When people talk about Capitol Hill, they tend to overlook its micro-districts. Folks usually think of the well-worn Pike/Pine Corridor first, although a decade ago, it was equal odds they meant the central part of Broadway. But a neighborhood spanning over 11,000 city blocks could never be a monolith. There are boroughs to the Hill. The string of gritty bars around 15th and Madison, the Taurus Ox neighborhood at 19th and Aloha, and the borderlands near Seattle University. The former knuckled area around the Deluxe at Broadway and Roy. “The Olive Way Fun Zone,” as Montana owner Kate Opatz once called it. The lovely walkable strip of 15th East between Liberty Bar and Kedai Makan seems a million miles away from Neumos and the Cha Cha.

For my money, the Hill’s best-protected and most micro district hides on Summit Avenue at Mercer Street. Among the residential forest, five businesses cluster together under a trio of 100 foot bigleaf maples: Top Pot, Sol Liquor Lounge, and Single Shot in one building, and Summit Public House and Cornelly in another. It’s like being transported to another city under that maple canopy, maybe Berlin or Melbourne. Something about the light filtering through the leaves, the urbanity, the overall tranquility. There are some West Village vibes here, too, if the West Village were quiet and smelled good.

“It’s really the neighborhood that makes the place,” says Single Shot’s owner Ruadhri (“Rory”) McCormick, who helped open the bar-resto in 2014 and is now its sole owner. “It’s so special to be on this little tree-lined side street. We’re away from the chaos of Broadway, but we’re still part of a vibrant community down here.” He confesses that, although he also co-owns Re:Public and El Grito Taqueria in South Lake Union, we’re more likely to find him up here, away from the busy crush of the Amazon village. “I hide up here more often, where we’re doing our own thing,” he says. “Down there, with all the tech offices, it’s larger groups and happy hours. I would say it’s a good mix of regulars and new faces here—but it’s more regulars during the week, and a lot of them are our neighbors. Our friends.”

The creamy burrata boasts a seasonal flair, accented by charred peaches and rhubarb purée, sauced with watercress pesto, balsamic gastrique, and pistachio oil.

Photography by Andrea Coan

Whether they’re weekly locals or vacationing visitors, McCormick says, it’s the repeat customers that keep this ship running. Although it made a splash when it opened, these days Single Shot can elude the rest of the city, as the restaurant comes up on its eleventh year this autumn. “A little tongue-in-cheek play on the name,” McCormick quips, as we joke about whether people outside the neighborhood even know about this place anymore. (Just kidding: The name comes from an antique folk art carving—a 12-foot wooden replica of a rifle—that hangs above the bar.)

In comparison to mccormick, Antonio Palma is a fresher addition to the Single Shot team, having joined up as executive chef four years ago—but he’s been a regular diner since the restaurant’s debut. “I’ve known Rory for eighteen years, through Re:Public,” Palma says. (He’s been working in local kitchens for two decades, starting off with impresario Luigi de Nunzio at his longtime pastaria Al Boccalino in Pioneer Square.) “Years ago, right when it opened, Single Shot was one of my favorite restaurants to come into on the weekends. We have a flatbread pizza, the Margherita—that’s what I used to come in for, every weekend! And then everything else was so good that it became my favorite place in Seattle. At one point, I told my partner, ‘I would like to work in that kitchen someday.’”

Single Shot’s pork chop, sourced from Idaho’s Salmon Creek Farms, is bold in flavor and presence, combining a Green Goddess dressing, charred rapini, and sauteed green apples.

Photography by Andrea Coan

Palma got his wish soon after, helping with brunch and later dinner service for several years, departing across the lake in 2018 to help open Ascend Prime Steak & Sushi in downtown Bellevue as its sous chef. “But then I came back,” he says with a grin.

Since taking the helm at Single Shot, Palma has imparted the menus with the diverse culinary geography of his resume. It’s evident in dishes like the hamachi crudo, with pristine pink slabs of yellowtail, blood orange segments sprinkled with crunchy fried-out garlic, pickled rings of red Fresno chile, and micro-herbs, all served in a swirly pool of yuzu, soy sauce, and neon-green cilantro-jalapeno oil. It’s a Japanese-Mexican mashup that’s almost too vivid and beautiful to eat.

Another crossover hit is the roasted cauliflower entrée: a whole head of the stuff, spiced and olive-oiled, blessed by the wood fire, then dressed with both tahini and hummus, peppery romesco sauce, pickled golden raisins, and blistered cherry tomatoes. This hyper-flavorful, totally vegan dish evokes a place somewhere among Italy, Syria, and the northern coast of Africa (maybe Cyprus?), and it’s loaded with more than enough fat, texture, and sheer garlic to satisfy any avowed carnivore.

Luxurious vegan fare aside, for me, the star here is still the famous pork chop. Sourced from Duroc/white-line crossbred pigs via Idaho’s Salmon Creek Farms, it’s a monster at 16 ounces and at least an inch thick. Recently, it came with a Green Goddess dressing, charred rapini, watercress, and sauteed Granny Smiths—my plate exactly matched the trees I was dining beneath, light brown and brilliant green. Palma serves it with two extra-porky baby back ribs tented over the chop like a teepee, and it’s breathtaking to behold. The architectural ribs, the caramelized crust, the vivacious green sauce, the juicy first bite of the rosy marbled pork, and its fire-sizzled rim of fat. The faint sting of capsaicin. The superb quality of the meat itself. There’s a reason this thing has been on the menu for years. The last time I dined at Single Shot, I took an order to go, because I knew my partner would be jealous if I got to eat a Single Shot pork chop and he did not.

When asked how his menus differ from the ones that were in play prior, Palma says, “When I took over at Single Shot four years ago, the menu was a lot different. The previous chef was doing more of a Southern-style cuisine. So, when I moved here, it took me a few months to get to know the customers and the neighborhood, to learn what they’re looking for.”

“Sometimes I’ll do Mediterranean dishes, but then I’ll add, like, Japanese influences,  or some influences from where I’m from, in Mexico. Or Spanish influences on Italian dishes. I use a lot of French technique too.”

Palma describes his food as, global cuisine. “Sometimes I’ll do Mediterranean dishes,” he says, “but then I’ll add, like, Japanese influences, or some influences from where I’m from, in Mexico. Or Spanish influences on Italian dishes. I use a lot of French technique too.”

Fatty hamachi crudo accompanied by blood orange and Japanese-Mexican fusion sauce.

Photography by Andrea Coan

This diversity extends to bar manager Jason Mc-Grady’s inspired craft. Drinkers shouldn’t skip the Alpine Run, comprising gin, Amaro Braulio, rosemary, lemon, and red Zirbenz liqueur, made from the cones of Austrian stone pine trees. It’s earthy, citrusy, kinda minty, and the etched glassware is a sweet extra touch. The 611 Sling, meanwhile, is a rummy take on the Singapore Sling: Pere Labat 59° Rhum Agricole, Plantation Original Dark Rum, Vedrenne Crème de Banane, hibiscus, four kinds of citrus, and Angostura bitters. And the zero-proof Trellis is a not-too-sweet summertime refresher, with Wildfred’s Bitter Orange, rosemary, orgeat, soda, and lemon.

Single shot is one of those restaurants where it’s not possible to make a mistake on the menu, which is astonishing when you get a look at its tiny kitchen. Add to this the fact that Palma’s whole thing is cooking with live fire, and it’s plain dazzling. But even if its kitchen were the size of a Cheesecake Factory, I would still love everything about this place from Palma’s thoughtful seasonal dishes and the accomplished cocktail list to its lack of fussiness and pre-tense—which, to be real, was not always the case, back when Single Shot was one of the hottest tickets in town.

Aesthetically, this restaurant is also a standout. In an elegant nod to the 1920s, the dining room has a simple gray-and-white palette, with pretty vintage tile and twinkling lights that imbue a lovely golden glow. Details like the marble bar and the white roses atop it shows attention to the holistic experience. Another bartop tenet—the vertical espresso machine that looks like something out of Metropolis—serves up a tight little espresso at 11 p.m. after your meal, Euro-style.

And those big old trees are a crucial part of the experience, of course—the feeling of being cordoned off from the rest of the city. Of knowing a truly delicious secret.

As it enters its second decade, Single Shot has evolved into an exquisite dovetailing of McCormick’s moody aesthetics and Palma’s globally inspired culinary fare—all hidden away in a cool sub-rosa geographical pocket of Seattle. In such a quickly shapeshifting urban landscape, I’m grateful that it still exists.