Cupcake supremacy
September 18, 2010
When two blogposts collide, this is what you get. Yum.
Remember awhile back when my friends and I did the cupcake shop review? And when the watermain down the street from my house blew up (literally)?
Astoria Farmer’s Market
September 3, 2010
I woke up Sunday morning in Astoria, looked out the window, and the streets were covered with white tents. A farmers’ market had sprung up all around my hotel.
I must attract these things, which is fine by me. I’d thought I’d have to miss buying my produce at the farmers’ markets this weekend, since I was doing the Hood-to-Coast thing, but the gods of vegetables must be looking out for me.
I pack up and check out of the hotel, stow my stuff in the car, and head for the tents.
Boundless
August 30, 2010
“Only four, no three and a half more hours, and we’ll have been awake a whole two days! 48 hours!” says Seth excitedly.
I peer at him through exhaustion-bleared eyes. “48 hours?” I manage. “What the heck have you been doing for the last 48 hours?” I’ve only been up maybe 16 hours, and I’m ready to drop.
Seth and Eric and I are the “banner team” at the Hood-to-Coast Relays, in charge of receiving hundreds of sponsor banners as they are taken down. We clean them thoroughly, roll them up and tie them, then sort them into bags for storage. They like this job because it’s close to the rock concert and they can dance while they work.
I like it because I get to sit down.
Wildwood
August 20, 2010
- Restaurant website
- Location: NW, 21st above the Pearl
- Cost to feed four for dinner: About $125 (plus wine)
My colleague was doing Atkins, the low carb thing, and however tasty the bread, she couldn’t eat it. So the chef at Wildwood braised some veggies, added a mild vinaigrette and served them as the classiest (and tastiest) crudites I’ve had in quite awhile.
So when my houseguests offered to take me to dinner, and asked for a “Portland local” place that had good veggies, I sent us to Wildwood.
Good choice.
Carol, Laurie and 9-year old Emelia know food. (Emelia’s favorites are mussels and tomatoes, so yes, this family KNOWS food) What they got at Wildwood tonight was impressive.
Service was exquisite–the waiter was as passionate about the food as he could be (and he clearly loved his job). Every one of his recommendations was spot on.
I had an absolutely fabulous chilled cucumber soup; Emelia and Carol had the roasted beet salad with blue cheese and walnuts while Laurie tried a slightly tamer salad. Delicious, all of them, though I think my soup had the edge.
We proceeded to lightly seared tuna on a fresh tomato risotto that was absolutely incredible. “I don’t know,” said Laurie, “I personally think the duck confit was exquisite.” And we all loved Emelia’s mussels.
(I love houseguests that believe in sharing plates in a nice restaurant.)
For dessert, we mixed up the chesterberry pie with honey-basil ice cream, the lemon tart and the Varlhona chocolate whatever. My top vote went to the pie.
Lovely, lovely meal. I haven’t been to Wildwood in awhile; this trip reminded me of why I need to go back.
Cafe Du Berry
August 8, 2010
- Restaurant website (actually, this is a reviews link–can’t find a restaurant site)
- Location: Johns Landing on Macadam, toward Lake Oswego
- Price to break the fast of two: About $25 with tip
Thank heavens for GPS, I thought, as I hunted up a scarce-as-hens-teeth parking space. Despite living seven years in Portland I still can’t reliably locate Macadam Avenue or Johns Landing without computer intervention.
But at last I made it to Cafe Du Berry and met my friend Serena, sitting at a table for two on the patio. With sounds of cars whizzing past at high speed it wasn’t exactly the most pastoral of settings, but the trellised greenery and quaint brick wall made up for it a bit.
Serena had a noon appointment nearby, and we picked this place almost at random. Its online reviews were a puzzle: Half loved it to death and recommended (highly) the french toast. The other half lambasted it with tales of hour-long waits, rude waitstaff and lousy food…and then they got nasty.
I gotta say, guys, that we encountered none of that. The waitstaff was friendly and–when we could get their attention, they were pretty busy–almost TOO attentive. We were there on a Monday morning, which may have had something to do with it, but had no problems with long waits for anything.
Serena ordered two eggs, over easy, with the usual accompaniments; I got the french toast with fruit. Both were served promptly. Coffee was good, raspberry jam was great, toast was nothing special, orange juice was from concentrate, not freshly squeezed (but also not $10, which was what I paid for my last glass of FSJ in a restaurant).
My french toast came with berries on the side, not a lot but enough. The toast itself was a single huge piece that pretty much filled the plate, and it was accompanied by a mound of very nicely flavored hashbrowns. I enthusiastically gobbled berries and potatoes.
The french toast? Not so much, but it wasn’t really the fault of the cook. There are two varieties of french toast: In the first, you briefly dip the toast in an egg-milk-spice batter and saute it until crisply browned. In the second, you soak the bread in custard until it’s more like bread pudding than bread, then hit the skillet.
Du Berry’s was definitely in the second category and well done for custardy toast. Unfortunately, I prefer the drier, breadier variety so I didn’t much care for it. It was soft, creamy and not oversweet, with a nice crust. I did not ask for a doggy bag.
Serena and I can yak for days unless something stops us, and the waitstaff respected that. For about two hours they kept our cups and glasses full, discreetly removed empty plates and otherwise left us alone. A little mouse peeked out from under the deck and accepted nibbles (we were outside after all).
Overall? A little on the pricey side for breakfast, but not out of line for the area. I’d go back.
Everlovin’ Saturday
August 1, 2010
Sometimes you just gotta immerse yourself in Saturday, jump right in the middle and wallow in it. Last Saturday was like that, and by the time I got to bed that night, I felt as though I’d absorbed glassland through my pores.
After Friday’s water explosion excitement, my housewater remained the color and texture of a bad French press coffee. The waterfolk assured us that it was perfectly safe to shower in and drink, but warned not to wash clothes in it for several more days “because they’ll stain badly.”
Thinking just as much of my innards as my $6.99 t-shirt, I stuck with bottled water and got out of the house for the day, heading first for my beloved farmers markets.
It was cooler at Beaverton Farmers Market this week, which made all the difference. I stopped first at the limeade stand and then, refreshed, tackled my shopping list: Fresh tomatoes, some goat cheese, bread, new potatoes, beans, greens, whatever fruit reached out and grabbed me.
The bean ladies from last week (“free Oregon from the tyranny of canned beans”) were still there, and they gave me a sample of their fresh red beans mix. Yum–I like it even better than the Caribbean Black Beans I got last week.
The real name of this place, btw, is Better Bean, and you can buy them at farmers markets and New Seasons groceries, among other places. (Hint:If you dump their Caribbean Black Beans in a pan with a little hot olive oil, grate GOOD cheese over the top, and saute until it all gets crusty and kinda dry, it makes the most wonderful salad crunchies I’ve had in a long time.)
Speaking of cheese, tried a new cheesemaker, Fairview Farm Dairy–I highly recommend their caraway goat cheese. I also picked up a nice, solid loaf of beer bread from Fressen, a bakery I need to learn more about.
The tomatoes are just peaking now (and I found the farmers who raise my favorite pink grape tomatoes, which they promise will be out in a couple of weeks. If you’ve never had them, they’re little dark purple cherry tomatoes with so much concentrated sweet tomato flavor it’s almost like eating candy. VERY hard to find, but worth it.)
I picked up some green beans, lemon cukes, purple potatoes, some of the plumpest, roundest blackberries I’d ever seen and still-hard peaches that were so beautifully colored I couldn’t resist. A little old lady bought a flat of “sylvan berries” (never heard of those), reached for her wallet and almost dropped it in surprise. “Look at the onion monster!” she shrieked to her granddaughter and we all agreed it was a vegetative masterpiece (above).
The iris rhizomes were on sale. Jim and his wife, of Joyous Blossoms Iris Gardens, bemoaned their lack of website; I turned them onto WordPress.com. Hopefully I can publish a site listing for them soon, because their iris are outstanding.
I wandered through the stalls, listening to 70s rock from a couple of guys channeling the Eagles. The bug guy was selling his organic pest controllers–nematodes, lacewings and ladybugs, which sounded more like a Harry Potter potions formula than anything else. But he took it very seriously.
“Why are we poisoning the earth?” he scolded, to no one in particular, “My nematodes can do everything a pesticide can do, and more.” He was making nice, symmetrical arguments, and if I knew anything about gardening I’d probably pay more attention.
I finally settled in to listen to the retro rock-n-rollers doing Hotel California (such a nice surprise), and watched the kids across from me munch strawberry waffles and carmel corn. The fountains in front of Beaverton library were gushing, and a curious crowd was following a tall man in a baseball cap I’d seen somewhere before.
He shook hands with all and sundry, picked up toddlers, and silhouetted himself on the horizon..closely followed by clipboard bearing dudes and video cameras. “I didn’t know Ron Wyden was so skinny,” said the lady sitting beside me.
I watched Senator Wyden being the man of the people for the cameras and totally missing the point of a great Saturday. The kids didn’t; they dashed around him and headed straight for the fountains. An old man in a veterans cap, with a big American flag on his wheelchair, rolled back in forth in time to the music, and people ate and laughed and applauded.
A tough-looking couple in motorcycle leathers strolled in front of us with lawnchairs. They settled in to listen to the music and the woman turned to us, “If we’re blocking your view, we’ll move,” she offered, but we shook our heads, no.
And I thought: Only in Portland.
I gathered my bags and boxes and trudged back to the car, drove up to meet my family, back from their cruise. We headed out to Susie’s Country Inn for Dogs and Cats to pick up Toby-my-dogbrother–who, predictably, went totally nuts at the sight of Mom. I was too busy dropping my jaw at Susie’s place to pay much attention, however.
This place is billed as a B&B for pets, and they’re very serious about that. It’s laid out like an old western town, there’s a jacuzzi-sized tub for animal bathing with a big screen TV in the “hotel” building, and the animals are all in guest rooms.
I’m not kidding–the dogs have their own rooms with real, humanchild-style beds, each complete with doggy wallpaper and doggy movies on the in-room TV. I’m not sure who had it better during their vacation, my parents on the cruise ship, or their dog.
Finished out the evening on my friend Jerry’s boat, playing with Vorst-the-wonder-weimaraner (probably the world’s fastest growing puppy), watching the Hawthorne Bridge’s 100-year anniversary celebration. There were crowds, light shows, dancing and, for some reason, a busful of New Orleans jazz musicians adding that special touch of northwest ambiance.
| Hawthorne Bridge celebrates a hundred years of service |
By the time I got home, I felt thoroughly Portlanded. Happy sigh.
Pondicherrypie
July 30, 2010
Hey, all you math whizzes out there, solve this one!
How does
plus
plus
equal
?
Riddle me that, hmmm?
Cupcake 2.0
July 30, 2010
Now, listen, I LIKE cupcakes, don’t get me wrong. What’s not to like? They’re cake. They’re frosting. They’re portable. Portion-controlled creamy-sweet goodness you can stick in a lunchbox. With sprinkles.
But…high-fashioned eats? The hautiest of haute cuisine?
C’maaaaaaaan. They’re CUPCAKES, for heaven’s sake. Yet I kid you not, there are at least three specialty cupcake shops in Portland, and more coming. Some of the best bakeries in town are pushing cupcakes as the wedding dessert of choice.* [Read more]
Beaverton Farmers Market
July 24, 2010
Can you tell I FINALLY had a free Saturday for the farmers’ market? Whew. I thought I was gonna get stuck eating grocery store produce for the whole summer.
Berry red, berry blue
July 20, 2010
“If you’ll take the whole flat you can have it for $10,” the berrylady said, pointing to gorgeous heaps of blackberries.
I’d come late to the Portland Farmers’ Market AGAIN–I keep having early Saturday appointments that mean I don’t arrive until 2 or 3 in the afternoon, when everyone’s closing. The berrylady was one of the few still open, and she was trying to lighten the homeward load with a great deal: Huge, ripe blackberries for about 83 cents per pint (in grocery stores right now, they’re about $2.75/pint)