Olli’s

You enter Olli’s through a semi-sheltered courtyard, past vegetable and herb gardens and a few empty tables. The door is propped open and you can see a large dining room with a small stage at the far corner. To your right, a long bar runs to the far wall and you can hear the sounds of a kitchen behind the bar. You can’t miss the guy at the far end of the bar; he’s well over 6 feet tall with bare, muscular arms, and he’s staring at you. He looks like he’s in his twenties. At a table right by the stage, a woman wearing blue leather boots is eating with a bearded man in a shirt adorned with bright, geometric embroidery. They don’t look like they’re from around here.

A woman emerges from the kitchen, carrying a plate piled high with good-smelling food. You see a bowl of stew and a thick wedge of hearth bread with a spoonful of creamy butter melting atop it. The woman isn’t young but she doesn’t look middle-aged either, and she has a smile that lights up her eyes.

“Come on in and find yourselves a place to sit!” She heads into the large dining room, to the left, crossing to a table where a man sits alone facing one of the many large windows. Even with his back to you, there’s something familiar about the guy, and as he turns to talk to the woman you all recognize Sentinel Wattilchot. He sees you, too, and waves; you hear him say ‘Kirak’ and ‘poor kids’ to the woman. She then returns, wiping her hands on her apron and ushers you all to a large table in the corner. 

“I hear it’s been a long, hard night,” she says. “Who’s for fresh kasha?”

A homey diner in the dowtown region of Moru Kel, Olli’s is run by the eponymous Seta cook, Olli Washtu. At least 2 of Olli, his wife Agna, and their friend Bo-Wiri are always present when the place is open, cooking up simple Seta fare. Olli’s caters to the town’s workers during the day. At night, it’s just a few blocks away from clubs like Glow and the Grottoes, and often serves as the final pit-stop on the way home for those enjoying a night of revelry.

A sheltered courtyard out front contributes to the quiet, homie atmosphere, and it’s a favorite locale of Watilchott’s when he needs a secluded place to talk with contacts or just a hot cup of kasha.