I was 11 or 12 the first time I tried sushi. My mom was exploring a stint as a flight attendant, a vast departure from her long career in government. She took me to a hole-in-the-wall by SeaTac airport with some of her new coworkers, a cast of characters I found fabulous and fascinating. 

As the uninitiated are wont to do, I ordered California rolls and edamame. We sat at the bar, vibrant platters squeezed between us, soy sauce poured into little white dishes. They taught me how to break apart and use chopsticks. They encouraged me to try something new while they slurped glossy pieces of fresh sashimi beside me. 

As a “what’s your meat, what’s your vegetable?” kid raised by country-grown parents, I had never tasted anything so delicious. 

So began my desire to know foods from other cultures, sometimes on the surface (yakisoba from the teriyaki restaurant in a strip mall in my hometown of Olympia, Washington) and eventually more intimately (fresh sheep’s milk cheese cured right in front of me by a shepherd in the Romanian countryside, its huge, briny kilos packed into bags for my soon-to-be husband’s aunt). 

When my husband and I started dating, I lived in a house on the top of Queen Anne with three roommates. We hosted family dinners every Sunday. Two of my roommates were European — one from France by way of England and one from Germany. And while I grilled salmon burgers on my Sundays, they stirred up quiches, cakes and lots of things that seemed to require fresh aioli. My then-boyfriend got in on the action, too, showing my roommates his family’s recipes from Romania. We became an international American family of sorts. And when we weren’t cooking for each other, we cashed in Groupons to explore more of the international foods around Seattle, especially near his townhouse on Beacon Hill. 

We loved our impromptu dinner dates at little Southern barbecue spots, oyster counters, Brazilian steakhouses, and Japanese grills. I became a Yelp researcher, keeping a list in my phone of all the best places to try around the area. 

Eventually, my life and career interests converged, and I became the social media manager for ChefSteps, a creative startup in Pike Place Market. The founders had worked on Modern Cuisine, a 2,438-page book about the art and science of cooking. At the time, they were taking the idea of in-depth, written food research and development and shortening it for the internet through videos and bookmarkable recipes. I spent my days sampling from the kitchen, following the chefs around, posting photos and asking questions. They changed my opinion on everything from lamb (I always found it too gamey) and chocolate cake (too dense). They taught me to pay better attention to how food is made. 

When a magical farmers’ market experience moved my family to Edmonds, I was aware that there was good food in the area. We had tried quite a few Korean restaurants along Highway 99 but I had no clue how much depth there was here, how easily I could access dim sum, or that I would push my palate further than ever nearly 20 miles north of a major metro.  

Here are a few of my recent favorite stops:

Bangkok Boulevard, which took over the Fashion Dim Sum location (RIP, my beloved piggy buns and seafood shumai!)

JangAn Sullungtang in James Village (Korean Beef Soup)

Pho Corner by Ranch 99 Market (I like the combo with brisket and tendon)

Our Place Dessert Cafe (Einspanner lattes are my go-to’s)

We love to eat, and when we go out, we’re pretty intentional about it. My 5-year-old daughter orders a side of seaweed salad with her sushi rolls. She fights my husband over tripe. My 7-year-old son knows which cut of steak he prefers (ribeye). They follow me around PCC with their free piece of fruit — usually an apple, the variety of which they do not hesitate to debate before selecting and on which they promptly provide unsolicited feedback. They are never wrong. And if we’re in a pinch, I know I can get a fantastic, quick meal for them from Ono Poke right across the street (psst, ask me about my local kids’ menu recs in the comments if you want them). 

I’ve seen so many more strollers and young families around town the past few years. It warms my heart to know we live in an area with so much access to great food, new-to-us meals, and more culture than my low-fat 90s childhood exposed me to. We know so much more now, and Snohomish County — as far as I’m concerned — has food options to keep us busy for years. 

The only question is: What’ll be your first stop?

— By Whitney Popa

Whitney Popa is a writer, editor and consultant for little companies with big dreams. A born communicator, she connects people through stories. She believes strongly in many things, including expensive sweat suits, offroad vehicles, good books and bad TV. With her two cats, two kids, and one husband, Whitney splits her time between Edmonds and Waterville, WA.