It's 2 AM in Pioneer Square and you NEED a big plate of Fettuccine – where did you go? Trattoria Mitchelli's! One such night in the 80s, I tried to impress a girl by daring her to eat the garlic pasta with me. Topped with an absurd quantity of barely-roasted garlic, it was only edible if the diner was somewhat, er, medicated. I am told the next morning, the girl's Mom came into her room and exclaimed, "OMG, that boy will NEVER ask you out again if you stink like that!" Thirty-one years, later, I continue to prove my mother-in-law wrong.