North Seattle's gateway to the wide world

I approach the North Seattle neighborhood of Wallingford cautiously now, because the last time I was there I spent several thousand dollars in less than an hour.

It happened while perusing titles at the fabulous travel store, Wide World Books & Maps, where I spied a bright red flier taped to the counter. "Discover China," it said. "If you're going to China just once in your lifetime, make this your adventure!"

And so I did. Automaton-like, chanting "must-go-to-China, must-go-to-China," I wrote a check to hold my place, and then took that month-long tour, led by store owner Simone Andrus and her husband, Dr. Stanley Toops, a professor and expert on Chinese culture and language.

Although I've never regretted that moment of whimsy, be assured that spending thousands is not a requirement for visiting this terrific store or this diverse neighborhood. In fact, Wallingford offers the experience of exotic outposts for just a few bucks. Along its economic hub, North 45th Street, you can sample the cuisine of China, India, Afghanistan and Ireland; shop in an all-beer store, an all-wine store, or an all-chocolate store; and perhaps most famously, check out an all-erotic bakery. That's where I started looking around.

Finally gave in

Numbers correspond to map.

1. Wide World Books & Maps. Open 10 a.m.-9 p.m. Mondays-Saturdays; 11 a.m.-6 p.m. Sundays. 4411A Wallingford Ave. N.; 206-634-3453, 888-534-3453 or www.wideworldtravels.com.

2. The Erotic Bakery. Open 10 a.m.-7 p.m. Mondays-Saturdays. Closed Sundays. 2323 N. 45th St.; 206-545-6969 or www.theeroticbakery.com.

3. Tweedy and Popp Ace Hardware. Open 8 a.m.-6:30 p.m. Mondays-Fridays; 8:30 a.m.-6:30 p.m. Saturdays; 9 a.m.-6 p.m. Sundays. 1916 N. 45th St.; 206-632-2290.

4. Chocolati Café. Open 6:30 a.m.-11:30 p.m. Mondays-Sundays. 1716 N. 45th St.; 206-633-7765 or www.chocolati.com.

Having driven past The Erotic Bakery many times, here was my chance to go inside under the guise of journalistic investigation. Not that it takes much investigating. The shop specializes in eye-popping baked goods: cupcakes to sheet cakes, adorned with private parts made from marzipan.

I stared. I gawked. I glanced sideways at the slowly rotating carousel of cakes topped with pinkish or brownish appendages. Then a young woman walked up beside me and she, too, peered in. Although to me the cakes looked similar, she clearly discerned distinctions. Finally, she pointed and told the clerk, "I'll take that one," asking that it be inscribed with a certain phrase (unsuitable for a family newspaper) and a certain woman's name in honor of her wedding shower.

Geezer moment. I'm sorry, but the last time I went to a shower the most risqué gift was red underwear. (I remember thinking, cattily, red was not her color.)

This future missus and cake recipient might one day have her picture pinned on the bakery's Wall of Fame where photographs show different reactions to the unusual dessert — confused, amused or, it must be said, gluttonously enthused, the latter tainted by an unappetizing carnivorous edge. I wondered, lordy, must guests share this cake?

The rest of the bakery is given over to merchandise. There's your Sex Soda, your "Naughty Weekend Kit," your raunchy greeting cards.

As a wholesome counterpoint, a few blocks west stood the old-timey Ace Hardware store, where the original 1920s sign proclaimed it "Tweedy and Popp Hardware." Not only does the shop keep people in nails and hammers, but it also serves as one of Wallingford's historical anchors. Vintage photos on the walls are reminders of the way things used to be.

Mike Mikkelsen manages the place, a store veteran of 20 years. Over that time, he's watched most of the other mom-and-pop stores give way to restaurants and coffee shops. "This has gone from being a blue-collar neighborhood in the '40s and '50s to a trendy place to live," he said. In spite of that demographic shift, the store is unconditionally embraced by locals.

"This is their little enclave; we hear that all the time," Mikkelsen said. "They'd rather come here than the big-box stores because of personal service."

While neither Tweedy nor Popp are around anymore, echoes of the past seem comfortable with the present. An old Flexible Flyer sled sat in the window, purchased at the store many decades ago. Next to that, a stack of Tweedy and Popp T-shirts, two for $15, with a sign warning that these sell fast so get them while you can. Because this is Wallingford, with a prosperous and diverse population, stone Buddhas are also offered, used, perhaps, as garden ornaments. Beats marzipan.

Warmed up to chocolate

Even farther west is a coffee shop devoted to all things chocolate: the Chocolati Café. One of several Chocolati stores in the Seattle area, it was new to me, and I spent a lot of time there. Over the holidays, I rediscovered my relationship with chocolate. Someone gave me a Cadbury bar for watching her cat. It was one of the big ones, imbedded with almonds (the bar, not the cat). As I broke off one line, then another, and another, I recalled how truly transcendent chocolate is. And at the café, you have access to such a vast variety, some of it ostensibly good for the heart and perfectly blended with that other excellent jones, coffee.

Thanks to the café's ambience, you may become one with chocolate. The shop's dark, close interior and sweet atmosphere is like entering ... fudge. When I was there, the café's lofts were full of people bent over laptops, each hauling up a cup with brown, sloppy borders — chocolate.

Erotic bakery notwithstanding, this was sensuous.

I bought a mocha that came with a long-stemmed spoon, just the tool to pull out any remaining chocolate sludge. Each cup is accompanied by a gold-wrapped square of chocolate and mint, the tipping point for a chocolate hangover.

Thus fortified, I crossed the street to just walk, taking in the variety of experiences one might have in Wallingford. Astrology readings. A teahouse. An automotive repair shop, which shows someone is resisting gentrification. And of course, the original Dick's Drive-In.

Unlike the last time I was here, my money ran out before the opportunities to spend it. I got away without signing up for a trip to Africa or Tahiti, but that doesn't mean you have to. Take your checkbook, a credit card. You could end up in China. Or with a cake that makes your toes curl. Whatever you want. It's in Wallingford.

Connie McDougall of Seattle, a regular contributor to Northwest Weekend, is a writer/editor for Seattle City Light. Contact her: conniemcdougall@yahoo.com.