I'm doing things a little differently today. Usually I write reviews of places after I've left them, but doggone it, Ballard's KISS Cafe is just so danged accommodating that I'm doing this one live.

Before I began typing, I took a bit of my awesome sammich, the "Thanksgiving Hangover" -- turkey, sprouts, cream cheese and cranberry -- and chased it with a sip of my latte, which is made with Zoka's roast, has a delicious foam on it and is basically exceptional in every way. There's a small but boisterous lunchtime crowd, a soccer game on ESPN2 and a big dog lounging next to its owner's barstool, and AC/DC just gave way to Al Green on the stereo. It's paradise.

The only drawback to this place -- and I mean the only drawback -- is that unless you live or work in Ballard, you'll probably never come here for lunch. It's on the far western end of Market, next door to Habitude and maybe six boat lengths from the Chittenden Locks. The 17 and 44 buses stop out front, but if you're anything like me you avoid the 44 like the plague, and the 17 is too unreliable for a lunchtime dash. Basically, unless you can drive or walk here, you're unlikely to receive this cafe's hospitality.

It's too bad, because this place rocks on oh-so-many levels. The sandwiches, served cold and hot, are basic, unassuming (according to the menu, the "KISS" stands for "keep it simple, sucka") and just plain freaking great. I recommend the "Hangover" because, to my mind, a turkey sandwich and a cup of coffee is a perfect meal, but the kitchen turns out BLTs, Cubans, French dips, veggie sandwiches, Dagwoods and more, and there's also a tempting selection of salads, homemade baked goods, cheese platters and jambalaya. Jambalaya! I'm so having that next time.

Look, I know I'm laying it on too thick. But even if you were to take away everything that makes this place useful to the neighborhood -- the banana-nut bread, the huge selection of bottled beer, the breakfast tacos and (heh heh) the free Wi-Fi -- you'd still have a place that's worth hanging out in.

Every detail of KISS Cafe's operation is fastidiously and even lovingly attended to. The basic glass o' water is cucumber-flavored; the pickle that comes with your sandwich arrives at the table in its own jar of brine; the napkins are black bandanas; and the "retail wine" sign is a Lite-Brite. There's nothing so small or seemingly insignificant that KISS Cafe doesn't feel the need to somehow tweak for the better.

I could go on for another several hundred words about KISS Cafe's funky-warehouse decor and attentive, genuine crew (also, I just noticed that they stay open until 10 p.m. and have a sign advertising live music), but I've been here nearly an hour, and even though I know the KISS staff would gladly accommodate me for another hour, I don't want to overstay my welcome.

That's the kind of place this is -- you don't patronize it; you visit with it, just as you'd visit with a good friend. Even if that friend lives on the 44 bus route.

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