Quinn's food and prices are deeply satisfying

Restaurants are like cast-iron skillets. They're typically not great right out of the box. They need lots of seasoning -- even a few mishaps -- before they can truly achieve their potential.

Yet there are exceptions, and Quinn's is one. Opened in October, this place is a mere baby but it's already a super slick, red-hot skillet of a restaurant.

As soon as it opened its doors, Quinn's fully realized its gastropub ambitions, providing a funky space to hang where diners can order inventive, deeply satisfying fare at incredible prices. There's nothing over $20, even lamb and steak dishes. And these aren't puny portions.

Maybe, just maybe, that's why during my first visit the server was slightly aghast at the volume of food our party of four ordered: "Wow. You guys must really be hungry." (And you, pal, must be fishing for a smaller tip, huh?)

Quinn's is the second venture launched by chef Scott Staples and his wife, Heather. The first is Belltown gem Restaurant Zoe, which the Seattle P-I's Rebekah Denn accorded three stars upon revisiting it in September.

Before Zoe -- named for the couple's daughter, and, yes, Quinn is their son -- Staples made a big splash on the Eastside at the Third Floor Fish Cafe. The well-traveled Stapleses were inspired to go gastropub during a meal at the now-iconic Spotted Pig in New York City.

I'm sure that spot is plenty charming -- I couldn't talk my editor into sending me to the West Village for "research" -- but Quinn's has the kind of comfortably worn character that makes diners feel as if it's been at the corner of 10th and Pike for years. The 1910-vintage venue, just across from Neumo's, used to be a Mexican restaurant, but it now looks completely different.

The massive space soars two stories, its concrete pillars, huge wooden beams, brick walls and huge windows providing a challenge for the sound system. (The musician at my table said it was a shame that all he could hear was the bass on Sparklehorse's "Gold Day," but that could be remedied by tweaking the woofer. Or I think that's what he said. I couldn't really hear over the thumping bass.) Tables on the mezzanine level overlook the bar, the seating on the main level and the cluster of potential pubbers at the door. The limited reservations policy means you'll need to arrive before the 7 p.m. rush or wait. The kitchen is open until 1 a.m. most nights, 2 a.m. on weekends.

This being a watering hole, let's say we start with a drink? There are 14 beers on tap. Most are pretty safe choices, such as Alaskan Amber, Sam Adams, PBR and Guinness, though one server was happy to point out her favorite, the Chimay Triple. At $9, it's the priciest beer on a really reasonably priced list.

There's also a tidy little selection of Trappist ales by the bottle, but I preferred the whiskey made by John Barleycorn from Kentucky. It's great to see Pappy Van Winkle in the neighborhood, one of the smoothest sipping whiskeys to come out of the South.

		Scott Eklund / P-I
	Nothing on the menu is over $20, including braised lamb shoulder and polenta.

When it comes to Quinn's signature cocktails, I had to grin while reading the description of "The Waters of Scotland": Glenlivet 12-year-old and a splash of Speyside-Glenlivet spring water. But it was the fragrant sage margarita that seemed best suited to the menu's hearty fare.

Even if you're there strictly for liquid refreshment, you have to dip into the meatball sliders from the "Snacks" portion of the menu. They're so much better than your average itty-bitty burger. One bite, maybe two and you'll be hollering for more. They're three for $5, which makes it awkward to share among four friends, so skip the squabble and double the order. Wait, that still doesn't add up. How about sending out four sliders for $6?

Some starter-type savories are listed under "Plates," so look through the list before making your meal plan. Other items that make for a fine first course include the exceptional deconstructed clam chowder -- tender bivalves in a creamy sauce -- a pear salad, smoked trout with pickled cipollini onions and housemade chips served with a dip only a Norwegian fisherman could love. At least that was the consensus at my table, which turned a big thumb's down on the salt cod concoction known as brandade. Being descended from a Norwegian named Finn, I actually liked it. If anything, I found it a little light on the fish and heavy on the potatoes and cream.

I can't stop dreaming about the oxtails in the substantial "Plates" portion of the menu. Don't worry; there are no bones to pick. This lovely, perfectly seasoned braised stew sits atop delicate gnocchi, the rich meat wearing a crown of crispy marrow.

Another slightly exotic offering, the wild boar sloppy Joe, is a knife-and-fork kind of sandwich. It looks just like a Manwich but tastes much better, especially because of the fried jalapeño on top. There's a definite kick to this Joe.

Quinn's does a mighty fine British-style cod and chips. The hand-cut fries are crisp, but not so crunchy to mask the true potato taste. These just might be the best fries in Seattle.

		Seattle P-I

They also show up alongside the terrific Snake River Farms Wagyu beef burger, an 8-ounce hand-formed patty the kitchen is willing to cook medium rare. And the taters play a swell second banana to the excellent hanger steak, cold-smoked before being finished on the grill for a rustic, cooked-over-the-fire quality. This steak has a Spanish accent, dressed with a well-executed romesco sauce (tomatoes, peppers, olive oil and vinegar pureed with dried bread) and Cabrales cheese.

Another meat-and-spuds pairing that proves the classic combo is far from boring is the juicy chicken breast nesting on a pile of potatoes that have been "forked." Mashed is so 2006.

Stellar sides are good enough to be stand-alones: currants and pine nuts embellish sautéed spinach, cauliflower is roasted golden, tender-crisp green beans are accompanied by pickled onions and radishes.

While the food scores, service stumbles. That first outing, when the server pointed out that we were overindulging when ordering sides, the overly familiar approach was borderline obnoxious. Especially when it was combined with a healthy dose of clueless, which left us hanging for drinks and waiting on the sides.

During my second visit, the dude who waited on us was subzero cool. When a buser took away the cheese plate before it was finished, he brought another. He was informed about the menu and willing to banter a bit. (Yes, he was dying to see "I'm Not There," too.) But then he dropped the check in the middle of dessert without so much as a "Can I get you anything else?"

That turn-the-table mentality is so anti-pub. Yes, there are lots of hungry folks waiting for your spot. I just hate to feel rushed at the end of such a pleasant experience.

So, I guess maybe Quinn's does need a bit more seasoning in a few areas. Still, it's easily the best new restaurant I've tried in the past year.