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whether you’re of the belief that lewis carroll’s classic tale of the walrus and the carpenter is a diatribe on capitalism, a metaphor of religion, or nothing more than a mere children’s poem, one thing is for sure: oysters fall victim to culinary delight.  what better namesake for a new oyster bar situated in the heart of ballard, just moments from shilshole bay.  with fresh local bivalves, a barrage of savoury small plates, and one short but sexy cocktail menu, we began to feed and the walrus bar left our bellies fat and our taste buds indulged.  there is however a stark reality to this tale, as we soon learned that little things add up fast, and our wallets were left to take the brunt of the evening.  such is the price of not choosing to leave the oyster bed.

"and all the little oysters stood and waited in a row"

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