It is, alas, time to say goodbye to Portland, capital of all things weird, sustainable, progressive, and delicious. The last few days have been gloriously sunny, with the mountains shining in the background and the leaves tossing gently in the breeze. We have done our best to acclimate to the Portland way of doing things, biking and walking nearly everywhere, composting and recycling nearly everything, and eating nothing that has been on a truck (unless food carts count as trucks). The last few days of most trips turn into a frenzy of trying to hit the last "must try" spots on my list and returning to my favorites one last time. This trip, however, it has seemed far more important to see people one last time, and that, I think, is the sign of a good trip.
There are some food odds and ends about this trip that didn't quite fit into any of the previous posts, but deserve mention, so I'm going to be lazy and write some bullets:
* Tasty and Sons. Portland is mad for this restaurant, which is the sister of the also very popular tapas place Toro Bravo. Ever since we hit town, every foodie we have talked to has put Tasty and Sons on the top of the list. They specialize in brunch, so a few Sundays ago, we dutifully trundled ourselves off to N. Williams St. to be greeted by a two hour wait. I get it: it was Sunday, Father's Day even, at eleven o'clock at the hottest and newest brunch place in town. But two hours? We called our dads while waiting, even managed to find a nearby farmer's market to peruse, and around 1:30, finally got our table. The concept of Tasty and Sons is small plate brunch, with everything meant to share. We ordered the sweet biscuits with strawberries (excellent), spinach with a soft egg (very competent), a nepalese pork stew (excellent), a red pepper and sausage stew (very good), and some chocolate donuts (surprisingly dense and disappointing). Everything was good, and it was nice to have so many non-traditional options for brunch. Everything but the biscuits and the donuts had a soft yolk egg on top which, when broken and stirred in, rounded out the sauces and made everything that much richer and saucier. That's definitely a trick that will be making its way into my repertoire. But, overall, I'm not sure I'm quite the devotee that so many Portlanders are. The plates were very small -- only a few forkfuls each (although there were three of us) -- and I left feeling barely satisfied and slightly sticker-shocked. I certainly don't mind spending some cash on good food, but the price seemed discordant with the extreme casualness of the space and the service. Chalk one up to excessive expectations.
*Pine State Biscuits. Our second day in Portland, we biked to Alberta St., which is the new Hawthorne, and mighty cool it is, considering the last time I lived in Portland no safety-conscious white girl would dream of going north of Failing. Cool clothing stores, a music store with an enormous selection of new and used acoustic guitars (so says Jeremy), and the nicheiest food establishments I have ever seen. Mac n Cheese To Go, which sells just that and only that. The Burger Bus, with a similarly predictable one item menu. And Pine State Biscuits, doing a screaming, line out the door and down the block kind of business. I was intrigued, but not at that time hungry. Then we started seeing Pine State booths at the big Farmer's Market, again with multiple block length lines. Really? For biscuits? I became frantic to try; Jeremy maintained his skepticism. "I just don't get the biscuit thing. Is there meat on them?" Finally, last weekend, I demanded we go. We joined the queue at the Alberta location (the line moved pretty briskly, as it turned out). I ordered the Reggie deluxe, an amazing biscuit sandwich with fried chicken, cheese, sausage gravy, bacon and an egg. My heart stopped a little just typing that. My god. Big biscuits, but wonderfully light without being even a little spongy, with the crispy, lightly salty crust that comes from being brushed with butter, and big, warm flakes inside. Moist boneless chicken breast with a still crispy skin. Creamy, spicy gravy, and that ubiquitous soft egg, as if it needed to be more rich and gooey. Now that was a breakfast of champions. That I would have gladly paid twice the eight dollar price to enjoy. Not necessarily pretty, but unbelievably satisfying, and while decadent, its single biscuit size keeps it from being too, too much. Jeremy's pulled pork biscuit, with pork from Pudnah's pit, was good, but really could not compare. Now I get the whole biscuit thing. We really, really, really need one of these in Spokane.
Bunk Bar, late night coz to Bunk Sandwiches. We went there after one of Jeremy's jewelry classes. The space was cool, the music was quite good, and the vibe was pure Portland hipster. I swear, in Portland, good looking women put on cowboy boots and oversized glasses so they won't look too good. The Portland chick chic is part part lesbian, part motorcycle gang, and part Lisa Loeb, and while some -- a very few -- manage to look cool and counter, most women just look like they are going out of their way to ugly themselves up. Men just wear plaid, and seem to shave their heads more than in other cities. Anyway, Bunk Sandwiches, much like Tasty and Sons, was high on my list of places to try. The word in the blogosphere was they were an instant classic, that they elevated the sandwich to its highest form, and that their cubano would make you forget all others. I had a meatball parm that was, while not sublime, perhaps the Platonic ideal of the form. The meat was juicy and moist, the balls had structural integrity without being dense or rubbery, the sauce was plentiful but neither messy nor overpowering, and the cheese asserted its presence in every bite while still playing nice with the other components. Jeremy had the cubano, and I have to say, again, I don't get the buzz. It was fine. A little overly mustardy, a little strong on the vinegar. The meat was promised to be pork belly, but I couldn't have told it apart from loin in a line-up. What's the big deal, Portland? Are they better during the day? And, dear lord, cut back on the salt on the fries. I know it encourages beer sales, but salt should not burn my mouth. Still, the experience got me thinking about how good a sandwich shop could be, and how many truly great sandwiches there are in the world. If you could put ten sandwiches on a menu, what would they be? Reuben, Meatball Parm, Banh Mi . . . what else?
*Olympic Provision's Cacciatore salami is the best salami anywhere. Done.
*I would like to take a bath in Chop's Chicken Liver Bourbon Mousse. Their Venison Pate isn't bad either.
* Two Tarts little cookie sandwiches are amazing. I thought nothing could be better than the li'l mamas (chocolate cookies with vanilla buttercream) until I had the cappuccino cookies with cinnamon butter cream.
As for those regrets? I regret that we made it to neither of the raved about pizza establishments, Ken's Artisanal Pizza and Apizza Scholls. I regret that I was unable to convince the proprietor of the People's Pig to relocate to Spokane, or to let me open a franchise. I regret that morel season is over. I regret we didn't make it back to Pok Pok, although we did make it to Ping, where we put away three steamed pork buns. But mostly, I'm just looking forward to being home, and the gloriousness that is summer in Spokane with my friends. I've missed you guys!
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