Eating

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Long day, as in the kind one wishes to  s t r e t c h, the body on tip-toe, to see, do, and be more, more, more. My dear friend Rob was in town on business and we had three hours at lunch time, our first stop at Broder and then Roman Candle, two very Portland places, as per his request. The Swedish meatballs and lefse as fabulous as ever, and our adorable server, with his playful winks the cherry on top.

The beautiful pastry is the Kouign Amann (the first word pronounced like queen) and the very last in the case. An elderly woman stepped in front of me in line for a moment to eye it, and I wondered if I could go Seinfeld on her like that episode with the marbled rye. Friends, I love this pastry, and I am glad I didn’t have to find out. It is buttery with a delicate crisp to it, topped with a crunchy layer of sweet and fleur de sel, happiness!

We had just enough time to wander and take photos, as is our nature when together, and so very much fun, too.

I had an hour in between my time with Rob and picking up the hubster for date night, and decided to stop in at Lone Fir Cemetery to pass the time. It is Portland’s oldest, with its first burial dating to 1846.

Picturesque and precisely what I imagine when daydreaming about cemeteries, towering trees and a gentle undulation of the land, with nary a sound to be heard. Squirrels hopped and scurried, lucky to live in this wondrous place of eternal sleep. I shed a tear over more than one stone; the pastor and his missionary wife, ceramic portrait in their Sunday best; the long-time companions taken by AIDS in the nineties, lighthouse showing the way; too many children who failed to live to double-digits; and WHITE, surname of one of my nearest and dearest friends, may his remaining time be  l o n g.

Happy Hour at Park Kitchen, the best salt cod fritters ever with a drink that tasted like chai, and more wandering in the Pearl. Then we headed to Powell’s to buy a book. The hubster made this face when I read a kind of creepy title to him. Of course I laughed until I nearly cried and made him do it again for the sake of the photo. That man is the B E S T.

 

At the lovingly restored Hollywood Theatre to watch Enough Said a week ago this evening. For those not in the know, it was James Gandolfini’s final role, as a divorced father finding love again with Julia Louis Dreyfus. It’s one fantastic fil-um, mostly for the fact that it feels so real. These are flawed characters laid bare, beautiful, and funny, hoping for more than a glimpse of lasting love. See it!

The following day we gamboled around downtown, in eager anticipation of that evening’s show at the Crystal Ballroom. We enjoyed a super supper at Ristorante Roma, a postage stamp of a place lifted straight from twenty year old honeymoon memories, sweet sigh. Sadly no pictures were taken, as we wandered off the street and they squeezed us in between reservations. It was our job to eat, and so we did, the highlight a shaved fennel and orange salad. My gosh, FENNEL!

So that we might linger a bit and try another new-to-us place, we had dessert at Cheryl’s on 12th. For Denverites, it is highly reminiscent of The Market on Larimer, a tad smaller and lacking the patina of age. With cakes, candy, coffee, and deli cases chockablock with every manner of delicious looking food, it is a gem. We chose a Las Vegas Tuxedo cake and steaming lattes and were not disappointed, not at all.

That’s Laura Mvula singing in the second photo, and our initial reason for wanting to see the show. I discovered her this summer (this is the song that really did it for me), singing my praises to just about anyone that would listen. Then, when we looked to see if she would be traveling to our neck of the woods, I was beyond delighted to learn that she would be touring with Iron & Wine! Kismet!

And now, a blog intermission for a “Parent of the Year” award. Not only did this sweet boy get to hear Laura and Sam sing without ear protection at high decibels well past any reasonable bed time, he also got a contact high from the cute kids smoking pot right next to him. Huzzah!

And then there was Sam. Funny and genuine and so marvelously talented, the man blows my mind. He had this terrific rapport with the audience, too, asking us what we’d like to hear, chatting about beards and laziness and life. I think he spied the cute boy, too, because he recommended ears be covered during a song with more than one fuck in it. “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” he said.

Iron & Wine is generally known for a pared down sound, but for his latest album and tour, he went big, complete with this very tall trumpeter and a couple more on the saxophone. He did completely new arrangements to old favorites, too, which was a lot of fun. Gosh, I think I am gushing. It’s what I do when excited.

And then it was good night, and we went home happy.

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Tuesday

Tuesday was a good day. My friend Susan was feeling under the weather, so I chauffeured her to the DMV, where we discussed life, the horrid power of migraines, and chuckled about the inefficiencies and oddities of government offices, the people you don’t seem to see anywhere else. Then it was off to my favorite Indian place for lunch. I was reminded of the best signs of a fine friendship. No need for the fancy or the complicated. Let’s go to the DMV or the supermarket or sit on the front stoop and chat, the rest doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t.

After that, I wandered downtown, keen on finding the QUIN candy shop. It is tucked into Union Way (blink and you might miss it), which is reminiscent of a European style shopping arcade and very, very cool. The shop is about the size of my bathroom, but is jam packed with yumminess, nearly all of it made with locally sourced ingredients just blocks away, and without anything wince inducing like artificial flavors or corn syrup.  I had a grand time tasting and chatting with Caleb (Kaleb?), a most dapper and kind salesman if ever there was. I came home with out of this world Cherry Cola Gumdrops (a lot like gummies), Best of Oregon Caramels, and a chocolate bar with port wine in it. I love port wine!

To top it off, the hubster and I had dinner at Kelly’s Olympian, chockablock with neon!

A very fine day, indeed. Hoping the weekend is equally stellar for us all…

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Sunday afternoon, and it is rainy-drizzly and quite fall-like. I’m wearing a long-sleeved shirt and cozy cardigan with shorts, eking out summer as long as I possibly can. This was yesterday, celebrating the last of summer weather and the 100th Anniversary of Franklin High School. We’ve been a hop, skip, and a jump away for more than fifteen years but had never set foot in the building until then. Howdy-do Quakers! How beautiful and bright eyed are the girls at the window? And the trucks! Well, you know how much I love them. There was also a 1956 Cadillac like Elvis drove, but it will get its own post a little later. A real beauty!

We rode our bikes along the Springwater Corridor out to Gresham (24 miles round trip – toot, toot!), leisurely pedaling, hellooo-ing fellow riders and walkers, talking to the cute black bunny who did not give a whit about us, parking a time or two to glean the last of the ripe blackberries growing along the path (they were fabulous, Martha!), and, of course, taking plenty of snaps, as the hubster calls them. We stopped for a treat on Main Street, a scrumptious peanut butter chocolate and perfectly tart lemon cupcake at Bella Cupcake. If you are ever out that way, I highly recommend them!

Sayonara Summer 2013, you were mighty fine…

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Lobster Mushrooms with Chorizo and Parmesan Foam

Pulpo

Churros with Hot Chocolate Dipping Sauce

Isn’t it wonderful to have friends?

…

Last night, I rode my bicycle downtown to meet the hubster for dinner, and, quite likely, our last warm evening ride of the year. We went to Ataula, our new favorite tapas place, which, as it happens, is exactly where our old favorite place used to be, so there was no real need to lament the change, even though I did a little when I saw the space in the midst of renovations.

It is fantastic, with a very knowledgeable and friendly staff, and especially the chef, who personally made sure I got a bathroom key and came to our table while we were eating the lobster mushrooms (from Mt. Hood!) and chorizo with parmesan foam. We were the first to taste it besides him, and he wanted to make sure it was all that.  It really was! And come on, a place with churros and hot chocolate dipping sauce? The height of splendor, peeps, the height! Plus, there was pink bubbly wine and that smile. Jeepers. I am one lucky gal.

More luck in the form of timing. We rode to Chapman just in time to watch the Swifts! It was amazing and awe inspiring. Nature, I am in love with you!

Our route home took us down the Esplanade, where a multitude of like minded runners, walkers, and cyclists in shirtsleeves basked in the warm evening glow, of the moon and buzzing fluorescents. There were photographers with tripods, film makers, one man deep in conversation with Vera, and the awesome hush of reverence that this glorious city inspires. Portland, you are a gem.

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