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For the second-most-important wine-producing state in the United States, Washington is surprisingly little known internationally. Perhaps it’s because second is so far behind first: California.
The natural world seems larger than life in Washington State, where towering conifers drip with lush green mosses and volcanoes sit quietly.
When the President of the United States comes calling, you answer. Even if that means arranging for a full-size, 1,800-kilogram Neapolitan pizza oven to be delivered to the tarmac of Washington’s Paine Field Airport so that you can personally cook for Barack Obama.
Room 272 at the Edgewater hotel in Seattle seemed like most other hotel suites in the early 1960s. That is, until August of ’64. The Edgewater is perched above the waters of Elliott Bay on Pier 67, and it is steeped in rock-and-roll history.
Like its leading restaurants and hotels, the American capital’s architecture is expensive and dull. Every note composing Washington’s new buildings is fine—the best limestone and marble, hammered copper roofs, and exotically tinted high-tech glass—but there is no architectural music here.
