The sign outside is so mangled, it offers only a slight indication of what you might find within: a bar, some beef, a dish ending in "ibs," and something that at one bygone time was considered "special." The dilapidated exterior is a shame, because special is exactly how I would describe the food at Rose Petals Restaurant [0].
I came to this unassuming Rainier Valley soul-food joint in search of a legendary food soul. Word on the street was that Helen Coleman, Seattle's patron saint of Southern cooking, had landed in the kitchen here after her legendary Central District restaurant, Ms. Helen's Soul Food, was shuttered in the wake of the 2001 Nisqually quake.
My companion and I proceeded through the foyer's smell of funk (which conventional wisdom says should be danced to, not inhaled), ordered a helping of oxtails and meatloaf from the day's choices scrawled on the white board, and waited for a return of the past.
What arrived first was corn bread, a pan-fried cake of it crisped on the outside, textured, grainy and moist on the inside, becoming ever moister and sweeter from the butter melting down its gently sloping surface.
Then came the oxtails. They were as fatty as they're supposed to be, falling off the bone into a thick gravy swamp, accompanied by sweetly spiced, buttery yams and collards stewed in whatever part of the pig is left.
The meatloaf was exactly what you'd want it to be, with a refreshing corn, okra and tomato salad that cut through the gravy's fat with perfect vinegar tang. Ah yes, we were in the arms of a Southern saint's comforting embrace.
With her only lunchtime patrons fed and her work done, the cook emerged from the kitchen. She looked younger. Her voice had lost its trademark rasp. Gone were the glasses. Had the years been that kind to her? No. This was not Ms. Helen.
"Oh, she been gone a while. This my kitchen." So says Jessica Dyer, a Kentucky native and one-time protegée of Coleman who has done much of the cooking at Rose Petals for the last 15 years of its double-decade existence.
Coleman, it seems, has retired, leaving the soul of Seattle's Southern food to others. And the torch is held high at Rose Petals, which has endured both a changing neighborhood and disruptive construction from Sound Transit. But Dyer and owner Bettye Gray are hanging on, hoping the customers will eventually return.
In the meantime, they serve up soul in gigantic portions. On Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights a DJ takes up residence in the enclosed booth to nudge dancers onto a floor hardly bigger than a welcome mat. Sunday nights are blues or ladies' nights, when the honeys are encouraged to whoop it up in their Sunday best.
Like molasses on a hot Southern day, Rose Petals Restaurant drips with character, hospitality and an easy-going vibe that I hope will see it through the slow times. Ms. Helen may be gone, but with luck, the future of local soul food will still be here.
Copyright © 2008 The Seattle Times Company
