portland

My goodness.

No, I haven't died and no, I haven't moved to Portland. But my weeklong vacation there has thrown me for a loop. I've been back for a week now but my suitcase still isn't unpacked (although it rather looks like it exploded all over the bedroom floor) and I simply cannot get back into the swing of posting posts no matter how hard I try. I haven't even tackled any recipes until this afternoon (more about those later).

I did, however, manage to clean both bathrooms, the refrigerator, and that rather neglected cabinet under the kitchen sink where we keep the trash and recycling bins -- if only we were the types to brew up all those coffee grounds I vacuumed out of there, we'd be in java for weeks! Oh and I bought some lovely arctic dwarf willows to build myself a hedge out front. I do love a hedge. Two lilacs. A mess of herbs and vegetables. That greenhouse is doing its job this weekend. And I had a million and one Portland photos to go through and touch up.

So you see, I haven't just been navel-gazing. I've been busy. And that's why you've been staring at that darned creamed woodchuck recipe for over two weeks. My apologies.

Maybe I'll ease myself into things gently by writing about one swell Portland restaurant per post, interspersed with photos taken here and there around and about town.

Here goes...

See those dark clouds? We got rained on alot in Portland. Thank goodness for Marmot, taped seams, and cinching hoods, that's all I can say.

So apparently, all the freaks who lived in San Francisco in the early 1990s have migrated north to Portland, Oregon. My fellow gen-X-ers during that period in San Francisco could have been summed up in one word:

Smelly.

I'm pretty sure I was the only one who'd showered recently. If loving a daily shower is wrong then I don't want to be right.

That's why San Francisco reminded me of Portland. So very many freaks. But not as smelly.

Part of the Portland freak problem was that I relied so heavily on public transportation: freak central.

Pretty produce in a market on North 23rd.

But I ate well. Oh, did I ever eat well.

We ate here twice:

That's Angie there at the end of the line, waiting with other devoted followers for Apizza Scholl's to open on a Friday night. This was our second visit. God bless you, Apizza Scholls.

The pizza there had a siren song we could not resist. Even though we had a long list of highly-recommended restaurants to visit in Portland, we couldn't get this pizza out of our heads. Once bitten, twice as hungry. Our first visit was so good it had Angie on the phone afterwards, sharing an in-your-face!, guess-where-I-just-ate? conversation with a friend who learned about this place on No Reservations and who really really wants to go. HA! In. Your. Face. Or something more gracious.

Between our two visits, we had the apizza 'margo'rita, the apizza amore (with capicolla, or cured pork shoulder) (yum), the sausage pizza (with housemade sausage), and best of all, the tartufo bianco, drizzled and dripping with truffle oil. It had me licking my fingers and my plate. When they brought that pizza out and we got a hit of the heady aroma of that truffle oil... Oh my!

I'd like to build some bamboo fences like these ones we saw at the Japanese Gardens.  In fact, I want one of everything we saw at the Japanese Gardens

Those were some lovely leftovers too. In fact, while waiting (and waiting and waiting) for my bus to show up so I could go home and dig into those leftover slices of heaven, I must admit I got rather impatient. And indignant. Freaking buses. Holding me up. Don't they know I have pizza waiting for me at home... all that may or may not have been muttered loud enough to make the bus stop freaks back away from me.

Aahhhhhhhhhh, Apizza Scholls. Your thin, slightly charred crust (both crispy and chewy) and lovely, simple toppings have ruined me for any other pizza on the planet. Seriously. I ordered some at Fletchers the other day and all I could think was: "Not Apizza Scholls."

An aside: I like that restaurants in Portland have rules. Some people might not appreciate that. They're more of that totally ridiculous ilk that believes the customer is always right. If I had a restaurant, there would most definitely be rules and any diner who didn't like them could take a hike.

For instance, at Apizza Scholl's you can only have three toppings. And only one of those toppings can be meat. They're the experts. Trust them. And they make their dough daily by hand from four simple ingredients, flour, water, salt and yeast, letting it ferment over 24 hours with a minimal amount of yeast. Once they run out of dough, they're out. As their website says, "Some days we may simply run out of dough... there is nothing we can do about that."

See what I mean?

Rules.

Comments

[Val]

Welcome home. Looks like you had fun!

[Melanie]

I can't wait to hear more about your trip. We are flying to Portland in July (with our 14 yr. old son) and staying a few days. I saw the episode on No Reservation about that pizza place. Did you eat at Ken's? I heard they were good too. We won't be in Portland for long but any advice would be appreciated. I tried to download your Things to do in Portland but it wouldn't come up. Anyway, keep posting and I'll take some advice from you. Glad you liked your trip.

[molly]

Hi Melanie, sorry you couldn't open the list -- I'll email you a copy. Favorites in Portland included the Japanese Gardens and the restaurants. We ate like kings there! Voodoo donut, brunch at Simpatica, dinners at Nostrana and Delta Cafe, dessert at Papa Haydn, lunch from the Sawasdee Thai cart (so cheap!) and of course, you read about my love for apizza scholls. Hope you enjoy your trip! Email me later and let me know what you did if you get the chance!