Drinking

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Hello Everyone! Are you ready for a looong one? Portland’s had truly Spring-like weather, the absolute best I can recall in my fifteen years as a citizen, excellent for gardening, with more digging, planting, and walking. This time we actually went beyond the city limits to where John McLoughlin, also known as the “Father of Oregon,” first laid claim to the territory in the name of the British.

In the back yard at the McLoughlin House, which was moved from its original location near the river. The cannon dates from 1789!

The tunnel under Singer Hill Road,

named for Singer Creek, which exits on the other side.

I love Art Deco, and the Clackamas County Courthouse is a dandy example.

A spectacularly fine roadster, a ’32-’34 Ford, I think. Hef?

Crossing the Oregon City Bridge to West Linn.

Apparently it was a great day for fishing, too. Dontigny, were you out there?

Yellow Awning

Red Ball

Tiny Vesicles

Cat Walk

Peeling Rust

Climbing the steps to Mt. Seleya.

Stopping for a lunch break at Mi Famiglia. We had a delicious spinach salad and mighty fine wood fired pizza, cremini and peperoncini, to be exact.

I spy…

The poor hubster, the one time he really wants to shop, the place is closed. He missed out on a slice of our childhood, with metal lunch boxes, Matchbox cars, Tonka trucks, action figures, McDonald’s glasses, and much, much more…

The tunnel to the Oregon City Municipal Elevator, the only one of its kind in the United States, and pretty darn cool, if you ask me.

It looks a bit like a space ship from the exterior.

The new Oregon City Bridge, boy is it a looker.

Oregon City is filled with charming houses. This one dates to 1877.

Willamette Falls

West Linn paper and vestiges of businesses past.

Nap interrupted.

My second favorite mural ever! The first is in this post.

The gorgeous Atkinson Memorial Church, circa 1924.

Waterboard Park bridges the second and third tiers of Oregon City. Hushed, save for the songs of robins, towhees, and one giggling human.

This is asphalt, slowly being consumed by earth and landslides. We felt as though we’d entered a portal into Logan’s Run, wondering if around the next bend we’d hear the howl and screech of cats and the moaning of “Sanctuary!”

Downtown Portland from the bluff. The hubster’s building is the tall one on the right. Hi Buddy!

Wisteria in full bloom.

This is considered to be the oldest working fire station west of the Rockies. But who cares about that; the sign is neon!

Inside the 100 year-old Carnegie Library.

Treats at Mike’s Drive-In, a banana and a Mayan shake.

Thanks for another great walk, Laura O. Foster!

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First off, how does anyone not love a place this handsome? I mean, seriously, Portland, you are dapper AND nearly equidistant from mountain and sea!

Second, bridges! I love bridges, and Portland’s got them in spades (with another on the way, I might add), including my all-time favorite, the Saint John’s. Oh my dear, what a beauty you are.

Third, Portlanders are pretty cool. We care. We are creative and have fantastic art and music venues. We read a LOT, with the greatest number of books circulated for a city our size. We are open minded enough to elect an openly-gay mayor and smart enough to take him to task over some less than brilliant behavior, and, in my case, almost wish he was running again.

Fourth, we’re quite green. We have the urban growth boundary to keep sprawl in check. We like alternative energy sources, wind and biomass anyone? We drive (very politely, I might add) hybrid and straight-up electric cars, share cars, and ride bicycles everywhere and have a counter to keep track of the legions crossing the Hawthorne Bridge (the hubster has a knack for being a number ending in 74: 1974, 1774, hmm…). We reduce, reuse, and recycle like the dickens, even things like yard debris, kitchen scraps (however smelly), and motor oil, right at the curb! Because whether or not global warming is real, wasting resources is d-u-m-b.

Fifth, we are crazy about food and beverages! We care about the quality and the people who bring it all to us. We are vegans, omnivores, and uber-carnivores. We love LOCAL! We make cheese, pickles, sausage, whiskey, wine, beer, cider, and so much more. Being good stewards of the land and treating animals kindly, even if their ultimate end is on our dinner plate, is important. We also like food carts and have literally hundreds of them, with fabulous chocolate caramel potato chip cupcakes, Korean tacos (as yummy as they look), and beyond delicious gentle man-made crackers with artisan salami and cheese.

Sixth, we’re a little wacky. You can wait with your lover (hair resembling a My Little Pony doll) in a long line to buy a doughnut where, “The Magic is in the Hole.” It might be in the shape of a penis! Or, as is my favorite, the Grape Ape, be sprinkled with grape dust. We have Zoobombers (probably not what you think) and naked bike rides, the Portland Urban Iditarod, the Adult Soapbox Derby, and many, many tattoos (though the hubster and I remain hold-outs). I once saw a guy riding a unicycle dressed as Uncle Sam. He bowed before opening the door for me at Fred Meyer. So gallant!

On the downside, at least for me, we have miles of unimproved roads, lots of pot holes, and under funded schools, but damn it, don’t you dare think about raising taxes on our beyond amazing local micro-brews. We have strip clubs and creepy massage parlors and prostitutes galore! We still shoot unarmed black folks in distress. We beat gay men for holding hands.

The long and short of it? We are beautiful, brilliant, and flawed. Oh, and wet! Did you know that it rains in Portland? Yup, something like 38 inches a year, though not at the moment. The sun is shining!

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Not Whiskey?!

Nash Metropolitan

Kelly’s Olympian

Big Pink

Thirty-Two

Leaf Sculpture

Neon Loans

Zoom Zoom

Favorite Driver

 

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For my final post on Montreal, welcome to our home away from home, Rue Tourville, tiny and easy to miss.

A cool painting hanging on the wall of our rented abode and one of the highlights of the trip: CIDER! This is ice cider, some of which is made from apples allowed to freeze on the tree before fermentation, while others are made from juice that is allowed to freeze. In either case, it is delicious. The hubster and I decided it is the port of apple ciders, sweet and kind of potent, meant for slow sipping (or pouring over ice cream!). In addition to this rather fancy bottle, I also nearly drank my weight in regular hard cider (dry not sweet), though to call it regular is a shame, because damn, Canadians really have a way with it, and as a big fan and consumer (second only to my love for whiskey), I feel I can say this with some authority.

More shots of our abode. Silly and a tad glamorous at the same time.

Saint Zotique, a neighborhood jewel.

Red mail boxes. Classic.

These are the buildings in the neighborhood.

Place Saint Henri Metro Station, dreamy.

He played Led Zeppelin in the most unexpectedly beautiful way, and I felt lucky to hear it.

Cafe Saint Henri, really good coffee in divine light.

The Marche Atwater, a very cool public market reminiscent of Seattle’s Pike Place, though this seems to be strictly for food,

like dark chocolate cake,

and macaroons. The pink was my favorite. I like it when pretty and yummy collide.

 And then poutine (twice: once the traditional way, the other with spicy peppers and sausage, the best), with beer for the hubster and cider for me, but you saw that coming, didn’t you?

Winter is coming…

Merci mille fois, chere Montreal!

 

 

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My uncle paid us a visit this weekend, one of those run and dash and laugh and talk all over the town kind of trips, summer idealized. The light was like a fil-um with three lovely stars. It was hot and blue, and we couldn’t stop smiling. We took in the sights and a beautiful car. We ate at new-to-us places and visited old ones with very new eyes. I baked a lemon slice pie, and it smiled at me, grateful to be part of something so magical, three days that were beyond grand.

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Hi there! I hope you are ready for a slew of Denver photos, peeps. Because they are a-comin’! Starting with a Friday afternoon adventure downtown and over the bridge, with my handsome brothers, walking, talking, lauging, and smiling.

I used to work in the tall building, the Republic Plaza, up above that second black line, on the 36th floor, with stellar views of the city and Front Range. It was a mortgage company, and I was in college, a full-time student, worker bee, and romantic, dating a certain cutie-pie who I am now beyond proud to call the hubster.

On the Sixteenth Street Mall with that fine contrast of old and new.

The piano player had a sweet voice and a light touch on the keys. I tipped her and got a dazzling smile.

A glass elevator with no Chocolate Factory in sight. Too bad.

We are headed just to the left of the church, to a place I spotted on my way to Grandma’s house, roaming the streets in my thumping-bass rental car.

I love architecture and bridges!

Everyone is reaching for the sky

And happy for sunshine.

The Platte River

The sculpture looks like a giant pile of intestines, but is cool, nonetheless.

Live wire, eek!

We’re all fine now.

Horsing around.

Finally made it.

The Colorado flag whips and snaps,

over a small French Bistrot,

Z. Cuisine.

Aaron tries the absinthe.

Chris is not so sure.

I am, however. Gimme! Gimme!

Sneaky sister.

I love my brothers!

Happy, happy 19th wedding anniversary to me and the hubster! I still get giddy when I think about us, truth be told. Our bright-as-a-penny love, better than just about anything good (kittens!) and sparkly (stars!) and fine (whiskey!). Yup, yup.

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I met the hubster downtown after work the other day. A date night, if you will.

We ate steak, and I had a Sazerac, one of the finest cocktails known to woman (oh yes I did!) because it contains not only whiskey but absinthe (I like mine with a little extra). The cocktail gods were thinking of yours truly when this one was dreamed up. Sho-nuff.

We walked around a bit before returning to the car, an ever so small window without need for an umbrella. I was pleased as punch to actually have my camera while the Portland Outdoor Store neon was in its full glory. How awesome is that light? It’s like having a Sazerac without actually having one. Warm giddiness spreading through the veins, one brilliant blink at a time.

I love this place. Though we haven’t been in a while. They have beer (surprise!) and really good live jazz. I like jazz. Give me a little Ella, Miles, Thelonius, or Chet, and I am good to go.

The hubster works in the tall building and can see the whole city, storms and traffic and birds soaring.

We’re driving home, and that’s his building again.

Five speeds and my knees. I do not like an automatic transmission. Not one bit.

I almost didn’t include this photo because the water droplets on the lens obscuring his handsome face, but his smile shines through it all. The best.

That’s Burnside, just in case you didn’t know.

 

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Happy Monday, gentle readers.  It is gloriously grey here in Stumptown, and I’ve no complaints.  Well, not any serious ones, anyway.

Here’s hoping you had a lovely weekend.  Mine began in earnest on Thursday, with my friend and maker of the exquisite little beaded angel pictured above, Bebe.  We met way back in college, and hadn’t seen each other in thirteen years.  She called out of the blue, on the road in my neck of the woods, and we spent two fun filled days thrifting and eating around Portland (Broder and City State Diner – yum).  It was a hoot and a holler to be sure.

Then Saturday was blessedly sunny enough to be in the car with the windows rolled down, doing all kinds of running around to purchase an odd assortment of items: delicious strawberry rhubarb jam (from my friend’s brother’s company), bread, my favorite Italian nougat, safety vests (for bicycling), metal straps and braces (for earthquake “proofing”), and something else that evades my memory at the moment.

We also spent a lovely evening with the jam maker’s sister, Lori (but sadly not her husband, as he was quite under the weather).  She made the sweet (in scent and looks) sachet above from a thrifted quilt.  Our chosen hangout was Circa 33, a newer place on Belmont with good service, delicious fare, and super drinks.  Steamed mussels, a pulled pork sandwich, and a cocktail called La Louisiane (whiskey and absinthe make great partners) were the tops.

The highlight of the weekend (more like my life), was the company and conversation of truly wonderful friends and one sibling (Hey brother!).  I am beyond blessed in this department, with so many kind hearted people near and far, giving of their time and hearts, cheering me up, willing to listen, share, and withstand my occasional and excited but no less annoying interruptions (noticing the problem is the first step to mending it).  Thanks to you all.

Have a wonderful week!

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Happy Tuesday, gentle readers.  How are you?  I am chilly-willy.  It is freezing here, quite literally.  Our thermometer has been hovering around twenty-two degrees since the sun came up, and I’ve got nearly enough layers to rival little Randy in A Christmas Story, yet my feet remain cold.  Blasted poor circulation!

All is not lost, however.  I am in good spirits and thinking fondly of our recent weekend getaway to Eugene and Depoe Bay.  We went two weekends ago and had a grand time exploring.  Eugene, if you don’t know, is the home of the University of Oregon (for my Colorado friends, think Boulder, circa the early 1990′s).  It’s two hours south in the valley, a lovely drive through verdant pastures with volcanic vents like massive mounds of granite scattered by the wind.  On the day of our drive, the skies were laden with heavy suitcase clouds, traveling alongside us, and the trees, oh the trees, a patchwork of emerald, gold, crimson, tangerine, and amber: the perfect portrait of Oregon in the fall.

Our home away from home was The Excelsior Inn, just west of campus.  It has a stellar and quite beautiful restaurant along with lovely, quaint rooms named after classical composers.  I chose Schubert, of course, and was very pleased.  There are also a myriad of watercolor paintings from local artists lining the halls, so it’s a feast for the eyes too.

In another feast for the eyes, we visited the Jordan Schnitzer Museum of Art on the U of O campus.  I have to say, it is probably the finest small museum I have ever seen, with an exquisite and well curated collection of art.  The building is pretty lovely, too, and precisely what I conjure when I think of an art museum: fine ironwork, high ceilings, gorgeous marble, and shining floors.  There’s also a nice cafe and a kids (of all ages) area with costumes and neat activities pertaining to current exhibits.  For $5, it is well worth the price of admission.

We also had the pleasure of spending the evening with my former student, Matt, and his sweet and adorable girlfriend, Kelly (no pictures – darn!).  We enjoyed their good company over dinner and drinks (still a bit odd to enjoy libations with someone I knew as a teenager!), along with a special screening of the Oregon gem One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.  It had been a long time since either the hubster or I had seen it, and it didn’t disappoint.

The next leg of our adventure didn’t disappoint either.  Though there was a thick blanket of fog and grave concerns on both our parts that we might not actually be able to see the ocean.  I grumbled and fretted, bemoaning our predicament, but was ultimately redeemed when I not only saw the whitecaps crashing but could smell their delightful scent.  There is nothing like sea air to buoy spirits!

As a perfect tie in to our Eugene adventure, our picture perfect Depoe Bay lodgings (The Channel House) were just adjacent to the bridge in the scene where Jack Nicholson’s character takes the gang fishing.  Though we didn’t fish, we ate plenty of local seafood (Yaquina Bay Oysters and smoked salmon, among others, oh my!) and saltwater taffy so fresh it was warm in our hands.  We also watched Oystercatchers, and a tenacious Cormorant catch its breakfast (very exciting!) while sipping hot tea and gorging on golden pastries, granola, and eggs.  I think it’s what could be described as the height of splendor.  Indeed.  Sometimes it is nice to get away.

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I’ve got a slew of recipes to tantalize your taste buds today.  Plus, apparently, a little alliteration.  Silly me.  I also have a whopper of a headache, a slight fever, an earache, and swollen tonsils, so if this wanders off into the territory of the bizarre, don’t be surprised.  I am not myself.

First off, oatmeal (sorry Sarah – I think you’ll like the rest!), but, though it may look it, it is no ordinary oatmeal.  No sirree, this is something special brought on by hunger, of course, a lack of bacon, an ugly banana, and a need for protein.

Ginger Banana Oatmeal

oatmeal

water

salt

powdered ginger

banana(s)

egg(s)

milk

Start making the oatmeal – add some salt and ginger, to your taste.  While that is going, puree a banana (I used my hand blender in a large measuring cup), add an egg (more if you’re making it for more than two people), and some milk.  Make it as thick or thin as you like.  Just make sure you mix it thoroughly.   Once the oatmeal is finished, add about one third of it to the banana mixture, and, again, mix thoroughly.  Then add this to the original pot of oatmeal, and stir, stir, stir.  If your banana was as ugly and sweet as ours was, you won’t need much sweetener, if any.  This is sooo good, like a breakfast pudding, but loaded with fiber.  A happy start to the day.

Now it is lunch time and spring time!  Perfect for asparagus, and mushrooms, and exclamation points!

Grilled Asparagus, Mushroom, and Cheese Sandwiches

Sliced Bread

mayo

Greek yogurt

creamy horseradish

Dijon mustard

salt

pepper

bite sizes of asparagus (cooked however you like – mine was roasted with EVOO, salt, and pepper)

sliced mushrooms (sauteed in a little butter or EVOO)

Havarti Cheese, grated (I learned this from Sarah – it melts so nicely!  I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of it before.)

Start heating up your pan over medium heat.  I use a Le Creuset that covers two burners.  It is the tops!  Make the spread -  I mix equal parts of mayo and yogurt (this makes it light and creamy), then add little bits of the rest until it tastes just right, being careful with the mustard and horseradish, unless you like to cry while eating.  Save when they are tears of joy, I am not keen on this.  Construct your sandwich, heat, and eat.  It tastes great with potato chips and a crisp apple.  Some sparkling apple juice or wine probably wouldn’t be bad either.

Tastes Like Sunshine Salad

One lovely Friday evening, we weren’t terribly hungry, and I had a small but beautiful assortment of produce in the fridge, but no lettuce or tomato, and stale heels of bread.  It’s a sunshine salad!

Tear up stale bread into bite sized pieces.  Toss in olive oil (not too much).  Sprinkle with salt, pepper, and crushed dried rosemary.  Toast in the oven until golden brown.  Allow to cool.

I roasted the orange bell pepper over the burner and put it in a brown bag to sweat.  Meanwhile, I diced an avocado and sliced some radishes.  Rub the skin off the bell pepper and dice.  Arrange everything nicely on a plate, drizzle with vinegar (I like white balsamic), EVOO, and sprinkle with salt and pepper.  Drink with the next recipe – we did, and it was marvelous.

We had half a bottle of red wine that had been sitting for a few days, not exactly good to drink on its own, so I made a zippy sangria-type beverage.  I got out a pitcher and muddled frozen blueberries and raspberries (about 3/4 of a cup?) with a little frozen apple juice concentrate (a tablespoon?), then I added some Grand Marnier (splash!), brandy (splash!), the red wine, and a can of sparkling water.  Man was it good!

Enjoy!

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