I love romesco. It’s that simple. I’ve blabbed about this love once on this blog already, but I thought I’d expand on that slightly with some critical advice, not only how to make it, but how to make it via a backyard gas-free mini-Weber.

First, romesco is the meat. It has handfuls of nuts and coupled with so many veggies, this savory sauce really does the trick. Traditionally, this Spanish/Mediterranean sauce is served with fish or chicken, but again, if you’re trying to dodge animals on occasion, but don’t want to bulk up on rice or other gluten-like entrees, go with this. And when the weather’s awesome and you have the option to grill – take it.

Second, I’m the dishwasher of the house, which means I have a keen awareness regarding how many dishes things take to prepare. I also adore cooking; put these two things together and I am insanely frugal at using multiple pots and pans to create a meal. This meal is the gold standard of marrying everything great together: vegan, simple, low-energy, low-dish quota and delicious.

Now onto the steps:

1) Cut the peppers into quarters.

2) Prepare your additional veggies for the grill. Tonight, I did sweet onions, portobella mushrooms, summer squash and sweet corn. I’ve done corn on the grill a few times and can now say keeping the husks on is preferred. Epicurious instructs to do otherwise and to put the corn directly on the hot grate; however, my informal Twitter poll suggested keeping the husks on. It keeps the corn from drying out. Other grill-friendly veggies are: zucchini, fennel, leeks and eggplant.

3) Squeeze some lemon, drizzle olive oil, sprinkle salt over everything.

4) Head outside to the Weber.

5) Now for the grill talk. There are many ways to grill food, via a gas grill, charcoal grill, or charcoal grill with gas covered all over it. I definitely enjoy doing this without petroleum – ugh – the thought of using gas kind of grosses me out; however, it’s a lot more challenging. You have to get the briquettes super hot and doing that pretty much requires a chimney starter. Without that, man, good luck. Once you pile in the newspaper to the bottom chamber of the chimney, light it, you’re well on your way. A quick note on the amount of charcoal – use a lot. It shrinks down quickly. This little puppy gets your coals all nice and hot. This process takes a while – about 15 minutes – and if there’s nothing flammable near by, you can take this opportunity to continue on dinner prep indoors.

6) Load up your blender or processor with romesco ingredients. Regarding the nuts: I’ve used almonds, hazelnuts and cashews and all of those are great. Cashews are probably the house favorite. Almonds are more traditional and I’d imagine pecans would work alright too. Experiment to see which kind you prefer.

7) Gee is for grill. By now the coals are probably ready. You want them slightly gray on the top. Make sure the top grill rack is removed and pour them into the Weber. Make sure the bottom holes are open; the more air you can give them the better. Give them a minute or two to settle before putting the grate on top. Once you do, give that a moment to get hot. Now you’re ready to pile on the goods. Place the peppers skin side down – you really want the skin blackened. Now just hurry up and wait. It will take the peppers about 15 minutes, depending on how hot your coals are, to blacken.

Once the peppers are done, you’re really on the home stretch. All that is left is to blend up the sauce.

Enjoy!

Just a Glimpse

It’s happened again. Portland exploded with a ton of new, fun eateries and drinkaries and I kept my opinions about them off the blog until now. Need more ideas on where to go and what’s hot right now? Do read on!

Cafe Nell
1987 NW Kearney
Portland, OR 97209
(503) 295-6487

I felt like I was in Paris when I was in Cafe Nell. No, I’ve never actually been to Paris, but that’s not the point. It feels uber cosmopolitan up in there and I love it. The glossy black trim along the windows; the densely packed trees alongside the high apartment buildings; the little champagne ice buckets next to each table not to mention the menu reading like something out of Vogue’s food section. Grapefruit brulee, homemade eclairs, Bloody Mary oyster shooters – small, simple, curated.

We tried something I’ve never seen on any menu before – deviled eggs and rice. Weird, ehh? It was lovely though. Brown rice along side deviled eggs spiked with blended avocado and garnished with a generous portion of diced tomatoes. It looked artistic and if you want something out of the ordinary but still not a gut bomb, this plate is a perfect option.

Cute chair, isn't it

Heart Coffee and Roasters
2211 E. Burnside
Portland, OR 97214
(503) 206-6602

This place is gorgeous. There’s definitely a strong trend of Portland coffee shops doing the simplistic minimalist interior design, but Heart is one of my favorites, no question. They’ve added an old-school classroom mix to it, which is just adorable. They roast their own coffee and it’s divine. They drip coffee and, of course, have the extra-fancy option of using the siphon brewer too if you wish. Another HUGE point to them for not only using Random Order as their pastry vendor, but have ample amounts of blueberry muffins in stock. God, I love that muffin. Oh, and for you homemade Oreo fans, yep, they sell them here too.

Lovejoy Bakers
939 NW 10th Ave.
Portland, OR 97209
(503) 208-3113

Heaven. This place is no short of it. Seriously, if someone were to say to me, Catherine, design the perfect place, Lovejoy Bakers would be it. Fantastic baked delights of all kinds, delicious coffee, gorgeous space that never gets too loud, ample outlets should you wish to laptop it… oh, the joys go on and on.

Perfection has been made

I’ve been a few times and the first time I had to jump on the almond croissant. Croissants in general are a little tough to find in this town, thank goodness, and good croissants are even more rare. For the record, I’d also give croissant props to Grand Central and maybe Petite Provence. Grand Central’s almond croissants are right up there against Lovejoy Baker if you ask me. They’re consistently flaky, packed full of rich almond paste, crunchy on the outside yet moist and velvety on the inside, but I would add that Lovejoy’s version is just a tad lighter than Grand Central’s.

Enough about them croissants … everything else I’ve had there is equally as exquisite. The beet salad and egg sandwich just couldn’t get any more perfect.

little t american baker
2600 SE Division
Portland, OR 97202
(503) 238-3458

Pretty white and yummy

They make a baked anise-orange doughnut that melts in your mouth. Pair it with a cup of their Stumptown joe and you’ll be closing your eyes, shutting off the outside world in a meditative state of bliss. I haven’t been back since the doughnut experience but I keep hearing excellent things about the place and lord knows their cookies had me glued to the glass.

Yakuza (ode to their burger)
5411 NE 30th Ave.
Portland, OR 97211
(503) 450-0893

I don’t do burgers much. So when I do, it’s gotta blow my mouth off. Yakuza‘s Kobe beef burger does not disappoint. It’s been super hyped (Portland Monthly’s Best Burger cover story last year comes to mind) and it’s refreshing and reassuring when it all lives up to it. The savory patty coupled with the layer of luxurious Chevre is such a stellar flavor combination. The brioche-like bun holds it all together in a convenient pocket of happiness. It’s just so sad when it’s all over.

Meet the Mexican Sammy

El Nutri-Taco
1904-B NE Alberta St.
Portland, OR 97211
(503) 473-8447

Oh, the taco cart. So many in this town to try… well, put this one at the top. It’s classic roach-coach cheap fare, but I had the delight of trying my first torta here. A Mexican sandwich? Great, as if I need to fall in love with yet another sandwich product, but it’s happened. I had the tofu variety and the thick, dense savory cubes of tofu piled high with Earth Balance butter, vegan cheese, beans, Vegenaise, jalapenos, avocado, grilled onions and lettuce. The bread deserves raves too. It’s a slightly sweet, pillow that’s the size of a giant softball.

Barista II
1725 NE Alberta St.
Portland, OR 97211

Billy, the man himself, Wilson has done it again. Barista II is stunning. No short of a relaxing French-inspired speakeasy with the best coffee options this town has to offer. I had the pleasure of interviewing him for Portland Food and Drink, so I’m going to stop from repeating myself. If you give a half ass about the coffee scene in this town, you need to go there – but really, you probably knew that already.

... topped with a fried egg

Tasty N Sons
3808 N Williams Ave.
Portland, OR 97227

People are getting obsessed with this place. For great reason – it’s a perfect storm. Here’s why: 1) the food’s amazing 2) it’s affordable 3) the menu’s huge so you wanna go back to try everything on it 4) it’s open EVERYDAY! Whoa. That really works for Portland’s breakfast crowds.

Ok, so the food, right, it’s incredible. Just like at the brother restaurant, Toro Bravo, Tasty n Sons pay meticulous attention to detail. No egg is passed through without inspection from the head kitchen chef. And I promise you, they pass through a ton of eggs. It’s a little obscene if you ask me. I know it’s a brunch place and all, but really, I’d like to tell them, it’s okay to have tapas without them. Anyway, the frittata is awesome – packed full of nettles, asparagus and hunks of feta. That biscuit sandwich? Yeah, any biscuit with fried chicken involved pretty much takes it for me. Their version, of course, comes with a fried egg and cheese. And I just love the radicchio salad. Super fresh leaves, doused just right with their Parmesan vinaigrette. Props to them using Ristretto coffee too. It was an obvious fit. They are just next door but it wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve opted for pre-brunch coffee, if I knew the kind the restaurant had was gross. Not an issue here.

See, windows, wood, steel

Public Domain Coffee
603 SW Broadway
Portland, OR 97205
(503) 243-6374

What a difference good interior design makes. Public Domain Coffee was, and still is, owned by Coffee Bean International, a wholesale coffee roaster that’s been based in Portland for a long time. Prior to Public Domain, the space was a coffee shop under the name, Portland Coffee House – yeah, original. It was gross too… super dirty and the coffee was always sub-par. Wow has it changed.

Public Domain is gorgeous. They’ve taken the minimalist design and have run far with it. Everything is either brushed steel or bleached wood. The windows are giant and they’re really pushing fancy coffee with everything from French press, to pour over to this other kind of coffee option that I’ve never seen before which basically sounds like a slow-pulled Americano. They have cuppings everyday and the few times I’ve been there, they have been packed.

Juiced

Cleanse day one: Let’s start with the ‘why.’ Why am I opting to make my life a lot more challenging by going on a three-day juice/smoothie cleanse? Let’s just review the past 24 hours: I ate a doughnut, orange puff, egg sandwich, double ice cream cone, lychee daiquiri and three whiskey ginger ales. And that was just a plain old Saturday.  Really, do I need to say more? Cue the cleanse naysayers: “Catherine, don’t be so extreme – just eat well and treat yourself occasionally.” That works most of the time, but after your body gets accustomed to those “occasions” happening, oh, every day around 10am, 3pm, and 8pm, then something has to change.

Plus, I want to. I need to be completely clear and honest that these three days of liquids only are solely my choice.

I remember when a bunch of girls at my work rode the detox train. They all boasted of lost pounds and clearer outlooks. My eating ways were similar then as they are now, consisting of a lot of lattes and cookie breaks. Wanting to break out of my impassioned addiction to all things sugar and butter, I jumped on. And, of course, got my girlfriend a ticket too. We drank the lemon, honey, cayenne tonic and bought boatloads of produce for the planned dinners.

Then I tried to go to work. I was a mess. I couldn’t finish my sentences – I felt as though I was slowly rising off the ground and through the sky into total lightheaded detox utopia, which is a place where things are nice and airy, and nothing has a deadline. Yah, that’s not a job. I dumped my date detoxing, ingested simple carbs, and got back to work.

What makes things different now? Well, I’ve got some time to hang out in the clouds so I’m going to give it my best shot. Plus, I absolutely hate to start something and not finish it, so in a way, I’m finally getting around to actually finish what I started six years ago.

So how’s it going? At this very moment my downstairs neighbor is baking muffins… yeah, that’s super. And my girlfriend’s sister just called inviting us out to PF Changs for  free appetizer specials.  I love PF Changs.

But enough of the carb dreaming, I need to celebrate the positive. I just drank a salad in a glass. Fistfuls of spinach, kale, beets, parsley, carrots, a little lemon and garlic went straight in the juicer and moments after I finished polishing it off, poof, my hangover was officially a thing of the past. It was almost scary how immediate the energy surged into my blood and lifted my eyelids open a few more millimeters.

Dinner’s on the way. Oh, I can’t wait.

Cleanse day two: One of the first things I said this morning was, “One day down, two to go.” My girlfriend chimed in, “What, you’re not enjoying this? You went crazy with food and drink the day before – and you probably will when this is over – why not just have balance?” Please view response to that above.

It’s not that I’m not enjoying it. So far, I feel pretty awesome. I have more energy than I thought I would; I’m not having communication difficulties like I did before; and my digestion system is thrilled.

I was just reading a report about how people enjoy the days prior to a vacation almost just as much as a vacation itself. Exactly. It’s the planning, the thinking ahead that’s half the fun. Such is the case with a sandwich and me.

Cleanse day three: I’m doing just fine today. Am I lusting after what I’m not allowing myself? No, not really. Am I high on purity? No, not really either. My mood is just pretty ordinary. Maybe it’s half-due to the rain clouds that have moved in. The gray sky can almost always kill a good life buzz.

But I was thinking more about this as I was sipping my lunch blend of beet greens, celery, cucumber, tomato, parsley, garlic and carrot… I’m proud of myself that I’ve done this – sure, I feel a lot healthier, but I love food so much and the fact that I’m intentionally removing it from my life is just kind of sad. It’s kind of sad, and also a little pathetic.

Everyone loves food, sure, but sometimes I feel as though it’s my entire cloth of life. I go through my week, thinking of where I’m going to eat this, when I’m going to make that, and how I hope to write about (insert hot foodie place here). When all of it is removed from my days – it’s a little boring and sad that I’ve built this kind of relationship. Well, so be it, I guess.

When I start on this introspective analysis, I often think of the Benjamin Franklin quote, “Eat to live – don’t live to eat,” and I think to myself, “Wow. I would not have gotten along with that guy.”

Sisters Coffee in, yes, Sisters, Oregon

Sisters Coffee
273 West Hood Ave.
Sisters, OR 97759
(800) 524-5282

This adventure kicks off with Sisters Coffee. Having a socially accepted addiction to something can make traveling extra special. It gives you routine when there is none. It gives you something to hunt. Not to mention an easy comparison guide. With that said, I’ll state the obvious: nowhere on this journey did we have coffee that even came close to being half as good as coffee we can get in Portland. Duh. But that doesn’t stop us from trying to find some anyway.

And here we were in Sisters, Oregon – three quarters of the way to Bend. We had successfully navigated through the snow-covered mountains of the Deschutes National Forest, which was a mission. I’ve driven in snow conditions a few times, sure, but not when you’re on the side of a mountain, and not when the car you’re driving starts to fishtail and almost do a 180. Luckily my partner Casey doesn’t freak out nearly as easily as I do, so when our car (aka. borrowed truck from her dad) started to spin, she calmly corrected it, slowed and pulled over. Whoa. I was shaking. We were fine but, dude, we almost weren’t! Thanks to girlfriend’s dad, I knew how to click on the four-wheel drive.

Almost falling off the side of a mountain surely does cue the coffee craving, so once we were cruising through Sisters, we opted to stop for some. Sisters Coffee was there on the side of the snowy road, shining like gem waiting to be clutched up tight. Boy oh boy, do they love the Lord up in there. Not only is their coffee strong as tar, their love for Christ our Savior is etched into various parts of their log-cabin walls. As my partner and I were waiting in line to order, our heads cocked to one side as we read the bumper sticker on their milk dispenser: “Jesus died for our sins.” We both looked at each other. “How about we start making out right now?” she asked. She read my mind.

Why have one beer when you can have six?

Deschutes Brewery
1044 Bond St.
Bend, OR 97701
(541) 382-9242

Our trip to Bend was pure Oregon tourism at its finest. We stayed in a B&B. We went snowshoeing. And the first place we ate dinner was at Bend’s flagship brewery, Deschutes.

It was standard in all the typical brew-pub ways – fries, burgers, kids making a total mess of their grill cheese sandwich and a Blazer game on 30 different TV screens. Ahh, bliss. The extra fun part were that you could get a little paddle of six beers on tap and of course we did that! Sadly, we’re both pretty pathetic when it comes to “knowing” beers, so we tried doing taste tests. Both of us failed miserably. We’d taste all of them, one by one, trying to learn what the red beer really tasted like in comparison to the amber, then we’d close our eyes and try to discern which were which. “Black Butte Porter!” I’d shout. “Umm, no. That’s the wheat one,” Casey’d say.

They also had major game all over the menu. Bison burgers, elk sandwiches… I imagined these majestic creatures roaming the epic mountain landscape then someone from the Deschutes kitchen hiding out in the trees waiting for the perfect moment to eliminate it from life, just to fill the burger quota. I got a chicken sandwich.

Needed the Fruit Coffee Combo

Top Notch Coffee
1722 Del Prado Blvrd S
Cape Coral, FL 33904
(239) 458-9485

Now the triple-city saga turns to Florida. Southwest Florida, Cape Coral to be precise. My partner’s mother lives there so we got to really know this little town during our two-week visit.

A few more details about Cape Coral. It’s small – about 167,000 total. It’s a town famous for its canals, which are waterways that many residents use for travel and leisure. It’s also, well, Florida, which means there’s a lot of retirees and the appropriate businesses to support them (I’ve never seen so many pharmacies in a four-block radius in my life). Cape Coral also has some hoppin’ bingo halls as well as some fine thrifting. Things it lacks that I appreciate coming from the Pacific Northwest are the usual contenders: bikes, sidewalks, organic food, independent coffee (you’re shocked, I know).

This was when my passion for Yelping kicked into high gear. I was determined to seek out any crumb of independent Cape Coral culture and leave my thoughts on it accordingly. You know, as a help for the next visiting lesbian girlfriend who’s in my same boat. Or anyone else who cares to use the user-review database. Scoping out the cafe/dining scene is something I don’t do lightly and Yelp was there to guide me every step of the way.

When I did a search for “coffee and tea” within a five-mile radius, Top Notch Coffee pulled up and sounded promising. Local coffee, salads, sandwiches, bam – done – it was our kind of place. And it was just a mere two miles away. No sweat; I needed to get my morning walk in anyway, so I strapped on my white canvas boat shoes and started on the trek. I diligently followed my iPhone compass, patiently watching the small blue GPS dot plot along the route.

Things were going fine for the first quarter mile or so. Then I turned on the main drag, aka Del Prado, a street Casey and I knew back and forward by the visit’s end. It was around 11am or so and the traffic was thick. The humid air hugged the exhaust and I felt as though I was bathing in it. I passed a man waving a Little Caesar’s Pizza sign, advertising a lunch special. I passed a drive-thru liquor store (yah). Then my cheap, mall boat shoes started to callus my left foot. Badly. I tried walking with the shoe half off my foot, but it was pointless. I’d never get there shuffling at that pace. I was discouraged but had to press on. Turning back would be just as painful and the thought of calling my partner to come get me definitely occurred to me, but I wasn’t able to actually be that much of a whiner – yet. I promised myself I’d ask her to come rescue me once I got there. And now I had to get there.

The blocks slowly passed. I walked on my tip toes. Cars without mufflers roared inches by me.

Finally the blue dot was about to overlap the red flag, indicating my painful journey was coming to an end. Only that I was now behind a tire outlet and in a residential neighborhood.

“Ugh. No!” I exclaimed out loud – as if someone would come to my pathetic rescue.

My beloved coffee destination had to be near. Maybe their mailing address was around this random corner. I shuffled back to the main street and walked another block, passing the tenth strip mall of the morning.

There. Like the angelic gold it promised, its simple plastic sign adhered to a stucco building.

I walked in and loved it. I was going to love it no matter how horrible the place was. My ankle was on fire. I sat down at one of the many open tables. Plastic tablecloths covered each two top. A nice, young brunette waitress was speaking to me immediately. I didn’t even look at the menu – I asked for exactly what I wanted: coffee, in a mug, cream, fresh cut fruit and band aids. She brought me all three. I was so happy.

A Beach BLT

Sanibel Deli & Coffee Factory
2330 Palm Ridge Rd
Sanibel Island, FL 33957
(239) 472-2555

You know that idea that goes something like, ‘Just stick to what you’re good at?’ I’d like Sanibel Island Deli & Coffee Factory to think about that in relation to what their business name advertises. They have coffee and sandwiches – really, isn’t that enough? Apparently not when you’re on a tiny island in Florida. And I get it. You really need to have whatever it is your customers could possibly want thereby pay for. For them that also means, burgers! pizza! pickled eggs! hot wings! Really? Hot wings?

So I tried their BLT which was perfect. Classic, simple, old fashioned – just as a tourist deli BLT should be.

The bonus-story behind the sandwich is that today was the all-things-crazy day. First, the car wouldn’t start. Then Casey stepped in a red ant hill. Then she totally wiped out on her bicycle – in front of a full line of stopped traffic. Then the grill exploded in her face while she was trying to light it (luckily she just lost a few hairs). Good thing lunch was a success.

Sauce for the Vaca

Romesco Sauce:

4 Roma tomatoes
1 lemon juiced
3 red peppers blackened
1 cup cashews
olive oil, salt, pepper to taste
Blend together

Romesco has had a great history with our travels. We met its deliciousness in Silver Lake, Los Angeles when we were there visiting our dear friend Nathan. We were going for a light dinner and shared Romesco with grilled asparagus. Ever since, we’ve been recreating this perfect entree-worthy sauce nonstop.

If you search around for recipes, they will vary a ton. Some get super fancy with pimentos, shelled hazelnuts etc., but really, you can’t get by without a nut, tomato and blacked red peppers. That’s the heart of the sauce.

The keys are 1) a grill and 2) a blender. Without those two pieces of essential equipment, sorry, this is a no-can do. While in Cape Coral, we definitely wanted to take advantage of the grillable weather, so we whipped up a batch for Casey’s mother and her husband. They totally were into it. Put it on pita bread, make a pizza with it, or just smear it all over grilled vegetables. You won’t be able to stop; I’m telling you.

Moretti's on the Waterfront

Moretti’s Seafood
4200 Pine Island Rd.
Matlacha, Fl, 33993
(239) 283-5825

This was one of those meals when you remember the server in minute detail more than anything else. Even when I’m staring at the salad and shrimp cocktail that she gave me, something about this woman has embedded itself in my brain. She didn’t even do anything particularly unique – I guess I just was touched by her in some way.

She was about 65 I’d imagine. She was a sturdy woman, wore those sneakers that were wedged for additional support. She did her makeup heavy which unfortunately highlighted the crinkles in her skin she was likely hoping it would mask. Her smile was wide – stained teeth, but perfectly straight nonetheless. She smoked, although I never saw her doing it.

She was great at her job. Announced the special with all the details the chef could ask for – used words like, “balsamic drizzle,” instead of vinaigrette. She took our drink orders and promptly returned with them a moment later, despite the crowded patio of diners she was tending to.

I think it was that I could tell she was proud of herself; which rubbed off and made me like her too.

The shrimp cocktail and Caesar salad were fine.

Lemons the size of softballs

Lemon Garlic Chicken

What to do with a whole tree of Meyer lemons? Make a major batch of lemon, garlic chicken of course.

Casey’s mom had the cutest, little lemon tree so we picked a few of the swollen fruits so big they were just begging to become a marinade. We hosted some of Casey’s mom’s neighbors that night and despite the warning of them only eating bland foods – I think they enjoyed our citrus chicken.

The recipe is as simple as it can get: chicken breasts, olive oil, lemon juice, salt, pepper, garlic – marinate – grill – done.

Cafe Matisse
2237 1st St

More coffee, more fruit, bored yet?

Fort Myers, FL 33901
(239) 362-1831

This was another independent coffee shop diamond, although technically in Fort Myers – the neighboring city to Cape Coral. It was great – had small cafe baguette sandwiches, quiche, fresh cut fruit, organic coffee and a lovely outdoor patio on the street.

It also passed the infamous family dining test. There were five of us there, all with different food preferences but everyone mentioned they liked it. A simple lunch, moderate prices with five people leaving fairly happy is a home run if you ask me.

Pie made from limes delivered from Mexico

Key lime pie

Considering we were a stone throw away from the Florida Keys, I thought it’d be a good idea to make a key lime pie. If memory serves me correctly, I made this the night before we left as a Thank You. But of course they didn’t actually s e l l key limes from Florida at the grocery store. No. Nope, they came in fresh from Mexico. Whatever. It was still awesome. How can you go wrong with condensed milk, egg yolks, sugar, butter and graham crackers? Right. You can’t. Top it off with whip cream and it’s sugar bomb bliss.

Five Guys Burgers and Fries
1860 Pine Island Road NE
Cape Coral, FL 33909
(239) 242-0384

There weren't five guys there then

Like the majority of Americans, I’m a sucker for food marketing. I’m especially a sucker for food marketing with a story. Five Guys Burgers and Fries was a part of a really good radio piece on NPR about successful companies amidst this crappy economy. The story took place during a conference of shopping mall executives, as in, high rollers who are apart of professional mall agencies. Shopping malls fascinate me all on there own, but then there’s a profile about a Five Guys executive coordinating deals with leasing agents from malls across America. Now I’m really interested. I have some pretty serious nostalgia with fast food, especially with In N Out Burger, a fantastic burger joint based in Southern California. So far it looks like Five Guys is trying to bite out a piece of the fresh-burger market (both burger outlets claim to never freezing anything), so I have to at least try ‘em to know what they’re like. All of that back story plus the fact that there isn’t a Five Guys near me, made me excited to go there in Cape Coral.

So we went and it was pretty disappointing. The burger just wasn’t that flavorful. In N Out still reigns supreme in my book. Although Five Guys’s fries are way better.

Another coffee "shop" stop

Espresso To Go
1518 Hancock Bridge Parkway
Cape Coral, FL 33990
(239) 458-5221

This was, undoubtedly, the best coffee “shop” experience. You can kayak there! And we did! Okay, so the coffee wasn’t really all that great, but again, I’m not complaining too much. The woman who owns this cute little shack on the canal was super nice (and a Pacific Northwester to boot).

Plus, she has a mean menu of ice cream shakes. And I had one.

Mrs. Wilkes’ Dining Room
107 W Jones St.
Savannah, GA 31401
(912) 232-5997

Southern Bounty

There’s almost no way to prepare yourself for the incredible experience of Mrs. Wilkes’ Dining Room. I ate like a mouse for breakfast (which is typical) and I told myself repeatedly as we waited in line, “be hungry be hungry…” but when the plates upon plates of mouth-watering Southern fare hit our table, I still wanted to cry. Everything looked so good – and I knew there was just going to be no way of enjoying it all.

Mrs. Wilkes’ is totally one of those places that travel food shows highlight. It’s classic; it’s been around since your grandma was in diapers; it’s family style and they have a cult following that line up and wait for communal tables outside – rain or shine. Trust me, I know, I waited in that very line in a downpour, huddled next to my girlfriend, despite my homophobia concerns of the quaint Southern town we were in.

The food? Bonkers good. Fried chicken so juicy, crunchy and savory… collared greens not too vinegary, simple cucumbers dressed in red wine vinegar, buttermilk biscuits, black-eyed peas, butter beans, sweet tea, the list goes on for eternity.

You’re forced to sit at tables amongst strangers, which the community-loving side of me usually appreciates, but this day, I really wished my girlfriend and I were left to ourselves. I just wasn’t in the mood to chit chat with Southern women in their 60s about how this wasn’t as good as her grandma’s recipes.

But nothing could damper my admiration for such Southern fare.  I’d go back in a second – after fasting for a day first.

It's Called the Garden Bar

Ruby Tuesday
Ste 1300, 14045 Abercorn St
Savannah, GA 31419
(912) 925-0193

Let me answer a semi-obvious question as to what the hell I’m doing at a Ruby Tuesday, nevertheless blogging about it. Well, as I said earlier, story comes with food and this is no exception.

We went here because we had to. An experience that often comes with travel – aka, the loss of choice.

And often what follows is the realization (especially with the assistance of hunger) that said chain restaurant isn’t really all that bad. And here we are at Ruby Tuesday in Savannah, Georgia. We missed our flight (don’t even get me started on that) and we were shaking up at the airport Country Inn and Suites, located oh so conveniently next door to Ruby Tuesday.

You know you’re at a place like Ruby Tuesday when, a) the menu is plastic b) there are photos of everything on it c) your server is required to call the salad bar, the “garden bar.” ‘Nuff said.

In closing I’d say that I came back with, once again, an undeniable appreciation for the local food scene here in Portland; however, I’m still a fan of those that do it differently, because, well, they’re doing it. Cheers.

Starts with the window

SE 36th Ave. and Hawthorne Blvd.
Portland, OR 97214
(503) 239-4756

Sometimes, okay, actually a lot of times there’s a gem in this town and it gets passed me. Like the Waffle Window – aka., the cutest brick hole I’ve ever seen. The Waffle Window has been around. It’s not new and the foodie press have loved it for a long time. The Oregonian did a little video interview for it, Gourmet featured it, Yelp has over 200 reviews on it. And yes, I just now went there. Where have I been? Well, busy, like everyone else, I guess, not to mention pathetically attempting to be disciplined.  I mean, how many times can you seriously allow yourself the intoxicatingly delicious delights this town has to offer?

And ends in waffle

So I made the Waffle Window waffle my lunch today. Good decision.

I opted for the seasonal “Fall Blossom” which included mandarin oranges, strawberries, panna cotta, whip cream, and pomegranate seeds. Their other topping options were equally as awesome, including a handful of savory choices (I’d totally get the “Farm Fusion” next time: mushroom, spinach, roasted peppers, tomato, marinated chevre).

The reason to eat one of these gourmet monsters is the waffle itself. Screw all the toppings. They apparently are “real” Belgian style, which has to do with the yeasted batter. It’s almost akin to a thick, bread pudding. Think luscious challah bread, but with even more vanilla. They’re divine.

Imagining streets lined with vendors doing waffles just like this gives me a cavity just thinking about it, but according to Belgium legend, that’s exactly what it’s like there. Whoa.

Also, if you’re hesitant to hit up the window based on the typical dripping skyline, don’t be. It’s totally legit to chow your waffle breakfast, lunch or dessert inside the Bread & Ink Cafe next door.

Sausage city

401 NE 28th Ave.
Portland, OR 97232
(503) 847-2534

This isn’t a review – it’s more of a shout out to a friend who’s got a really cool restaurant on her hands. I’ve known Alyssa Gregg for a while. We’re not super close, but I interviewed her years ago for Portland Food and Drink, and I’ve kept up with her ever since. As mentioned, she just opened Spints, and I’m just plain excited for her, for me, and for the NE 28th neighborhood.

The spot is gorgeous. She’s poured some insane amounts of sweat into the place, which only adds to the wow of it all. It has two rooms – a bar and a dining room. The doorway that connects the two used to be a solid fireplace.

Dining room glow

And she knocked that shit down herself. During the night of the opening her plumber told me he saw her with a jack hammer jacking up some concrete outside. “Well, the job needed done,” she said.

I only sampled her hors d’oeuvres, which were spreads of smoked meat 10 ways, spiced mustards, and dense nut breads – all lovely combinations with the impressive wine and spirit list. Fellow foodie-friend Gaironn Poole did the wine menu, which included a pinot gris that I adored.

More internet yammering about Spints to come, I don’t doubt. For now, Congratulations Alyssa. I’ll see you soon!

True story

Yesterday was an anomaly. Here’s why: I was successful at something without having to try that hard. That can only lead me to believe that chanterelle mushroom picking is insanely easy.

My girlfriend had been talking up this field trip for a while and I was very hesitant for two reasons – 1) I was scared to death I would become poisoned and 2) I did not have nearly enough time to learn all that mushroom picking entails.

Typically my tales of success go something like this: Have the desire to accomplish something. Learn all about it over the course of weeks or even years. Try and fail – many, many times. Finally, after picking myself back up, I will taste a small piece of victory and feel as though life really isn’t so hard… If only my other efforts would always end up as magically successful as our forest fungus adventure.

He helped

We packed up the dog, the mushroom guide circa 1969, rain jackets and a water bottle. The weather was unusually perfect – the clouds were puffy and separated – the sun sang through the sky and created epic rainbows against the picturesque farmland outside of Portland. However, I barely noticed what condition the world was in because I was frantically going through the mushroom guide, trying to study what the differences were between “fake chanterelles” and the real thing. Fake chanterelles shouldn’t be confused for the real thing, said the guide – they are poisonous and cause digestion distress. Please see reason number one why I didn’t want to take this risk in the first place…

Once we got to the desired mile marker, we pulled off the road and started meandering down the trail. My girlfriend is almost as clueless as I am in regards to mushroom picking, but had tried going a few weeks ago at this same spot. She came back empty handed and got additional tips from a coworker to go off the hiking trails.

“So, like, when do we start turning off the trail?” I ask.

“Whenever, I guess,” she responded. We kept repeating that, if nothing else, we’d enjoy an afternoon hike. I couldn’t imagine actually finding a wild chanterelle, so I was barely even looking. But then a little white-top mushroom showed itself through the soggy leave-covered ground. That’s all the motivation I needed.

“Look! There! Mushroom!” I exclaimed. That was the sign. “Here, let’s just start walking here!” The white mushroom certainly wasn’t a chanterelle – I didn’t need the guide to cross reference that, but surely where there’s fungus there’s fungi, right?

We squished through the soft forest floor – eyes suddenly acute to every leaf, stick, and pine cone. All of three minutes later we find it, our very first wild chanterelle all scalloped orange and perfect. It could have easily been mistaken for an oak leaf, but when examined closely, it was dinner.

“Look, the gills, do you think it’s really it?” my girlfriend asks. I couldn’t believe it – we needed a second opinion. The description in the book said to look for “gills going down the stem with adjoining veins.” Uhh, sure, I guess it fit that… Once we found one, the rest practically jumped into our hands. Every few minutes, we were gently adding more pounds of precious fungus to our canvas bag. The air felt fresh, kind and lucky.  The dog was romping around the forest just as excited as we were. A few hours later the rain came and we took that as our exit sign. We walked back to the car in disbelief that we had approximately 10 pounds of wild chanterelles.

Yumm!

My girlfriend took some into her coworker the next day, just to make sure they were the real thing.

“Oh yeah, they’re chanterelles,” she told me after their conversation.

“Was he so excited?! We found so many!” I said.

“Well, no – I mean, he’s gotten four times that amount lately,” she recalled.

Great for him. I’m still riding my mushroom high.

Stop one: Ping

October has been a month full of delightful eating outings. Instead of attempting to keep up on all individual reviews, I thought I’d just explode them all into one epic blog post. Enjoy!

Ping
102 NW 4th Ave.
Portland, OR 97209
(503) 229-7464

If I ate at Pok Pok nearly as much as I drove by attempting to eat there, well, I’d eat there a lot more. My point is Pok Pok is amazing, you don’t need me to tell you that, and it’s equally as busy – even on weeknights. Then comes Ping, Andy Ricker’s second successful Southeast Asian restaurant.

Pork collar by Ping

In short, it’s delicious. It parallels Pok Pok’s menu nicely, without being redundant. One of my favorite dishes in this town is Pok Pok’s boar collar, which doesn’t exist at Ping, but a similar one there would be the pork collar. It’s not quite as mind-blowing as its $12 counter part, but the pork is layered wonderfully with savory pockets of herbaceous Asian flavor.

The drink menu is almost as fun as the food — sakes that would make your head spin, and creative cocktails featuring foreign fruity spirits.

The space is super sexy too; one of my favorites. The open kitchen adds a casual feel to the hip vintage decor. Either making Ping a weekend date destination, or weekday lunch spot just makes sense.

DOC
5519 NE 30th Ave.
Portland, OR
(503) 946-8592

Dear God, every morsel of food and drink out of DOC is perfect. This Italian-focused restaurant takes the idea of stellar-simple ingredients and creates them into mouth-watering puddle of magic. Read the menu; it almost sounds boring, with items such as, “risotto, chanterelle, squash” but once those hit your taste buds, you’ll melt like butter via grassfed local cows. I did the tasting menu for $50 as did my two dining companions, so we essentially got to try the entire menu, minus an appetizer (or antipasta). For your next special evening out when you’re wanting to feel like you’ve never tasted food before and you’re willing to pay a few extra pennies for it – go there.

James John Cafe

James John Cafe
8527 N Lombard St.
Portland, OR 97203
(503) 285-4930

If what you’re after is a chill, wi-fied cafe in St. Johns with lovely pastries and Stumptown coffee – this is an excellent spot. The space is huge, the outlets are numerous, they accept cards and play nice music. Really, what more do you need?

They used to do dinners during the week, which got great reviews; however, those are currently on hiatus. They just started doing a small breakfast / lunch menu Tues-Fri, and do a larger brunch on Saturday and Sundays, of which I hope to try soon.

Latte and scone by Vivo

Vivo Espresso
932 SE Morrison
Portland OR 97214
(503) 477-6303

Too cute, too cute, Vivo Espresso is too cute. This definitely isn’t the newest coffee shop in town (by the time you blink, there will probably be a new one) but this one deserves a shout nonetheless. The owner is super sweet, and opened up back in April. She’s the only shop in town that serves Blue Star Coffee, a small-batch roaster up in Washington. I really liked it. The espresso and coffee was both really bright and clean, not too acidic and not too dark.

Wi-fi, yes, accepts cards, yes, good music, yes, and good seating, yes. The only bummers – she’s closed on weekends, the pastry selection could be a bit better and, as always, I wish it was open later.

Gretchen’s Kitchen
940 SE Morrison
Portland, OR 97214
(503) 234-4086

Breakfast by Gretchen

Think of your favorite restaurant, coffee shop, or even grocery store… now try and think how long it’s been open. I’d venture to guess it’s in the ball park of six years or less. Portland’s food scene has exploded, meaning that there are a lot of young businesses (yay, love them) but really, where and who are the old-school players? Hubers? Zells? Gretchen’s Kitchen? Yep.

Gretchen’s Kitchen has been kickin’ it on SE Morrison Street for e l e v e n years! It comes as no surprise that she has her hard-core regulars, many of which, walk in, don’t even look at the menu, and blindly order “the special.” Here’s the thing; Gretchen’s is the quintessential greasy spoon – nothing is fancy – it’s just a simple, comfort food, at wickedly good prices. She has the good breakfast, lunch standards: scrambles, pancakes, deli salads, sandwiches and homemade soups.

I had a mushroom, spinach (it was organic; I saw the bag), swiss, red onion scramble and scoop of fresh-cut fruit salad for seven dollars. Wow. The special that day looked incredible too – a quarter roast chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, homemade biscuit and green beans. “I’m gonna make you fat!” Gretchen said when one of her regulars gasped at the amount of food. “Too late for that,” he responded.

Gretchen is, a reason in itself to come here. She’s hilarious and so nice. When I tried to pay with my card, she didn’t blink twice and declared, “I don’t take cards; just come back next week.” I protested for a moment saying, I could go grab cash somewhere but she saw it as an opportunity to turn me into a repeat customer. “Honey, it happens all the time. Just come back next week, and I’ll get to charge you twice!” she said with a smile.

Hipness all Over

Urban Farmer
525 SW Morrison St.
Floor 8
Portland OR 97204

Oh, Urban Farmer; Oh, Departure; Oh The Nines. The three are very much related (i.e. in the same building) but I’m just going to focus on Urban Farmer’s weekend brunch for now. It’s good; it’s shiny; it’s very much trying so hard to be the snobbiest Portlander possible. That may sound like a total diss, but I still really enjoyed my time there. The menu incredibly diverse for being dubbed, “A Modern Steakhouse.” Every entree comes with some luxurious sauce, marmalade, or syrup, which I’m not complaining about.

I’m a big sucker for almond croissants and salads, so I tried their version. Croissant? Major let down. They make them in house, and are super chewy and gluey. The simple salad was delightful though – lots of local greens, with radishes. The extra-special treat that morning was definitely the fried chicken and waffles. If that’s on a brunch menu, lord help me refuse it. Urban Farmer’s version was pretty good. Small, cute, cornmeal waffles with moist, white-meat chicken and a honey-chili glaze. Would I go back? Sure. Would I go out of my way to go there? Nope.

I am happy to announce that I am opening my first restaurant, Spints, at the beginning of December, 2009.  Spints will be an alehouse featuring Northern European cuisine and eclectic blend of local and regional beers.  In addition, our cocktail menu will focus on local distillers along with in-house craftsmanship.  I will be acting as both owner and executive chef.  The cuisine will be have its main focus on traditional German food, but have some influence from Belgium and Northern France to add some lighter fare.  Overseeing the management of the bar will be Ted Charak, formerly of Teardrop Lounge.  The restaurant will be located at 401 N.E. 28th Ave. (x-street flanders) and will be open Tuesday-Saturday for dinner with brunch to be added soon after.    The neighboring businesses and residences have been very welcoming to this new addition and I look forward to being a part of the community.   For further updates please visit spintspdx.com.

North Mississippi & Skidmore
Portland, OR 97217

I like the expression, “I’m the mayor of (insert your neighborhood here).” I hear this every once in a while, and if I remember correctly, one of the owners of the Night Light Lounge even had this as his MySpace name (“Mayor of SE Clinton”). Don’t quote me on that, but the point is, if I were Roger Goldingay, I might be saying this in regards to North Mississippi and Skidmore.

Roger is the owner of the newly-opened Mississippi Marketplace: Portland’s latest food-cart “pod” and soon-to-be opened brewpub, Prost! I just get so excited when the food-economy stars align, and I couldn’t think of a more perfect use for this corner, especially when it’s in my own neighborhood. The Oregonian reported that Roger got “flooded” with applications to be one of 10 carts on the corner. Early comments from cart owners support the idea that this is the right time and place for the Mississippi Marketplace.

I’ve tried three of the eight carts, and am especially fond of the fresh juices and egg sandwiches (not surprising if you’ve read this blog before or know me at all). Dogfeathers serves up organic drip coffee and espresso from Schondecken, a boutique roaster in Sellwood and juiced-to order creations. The Big Egg has incredible egg sandwiches that melt in your mouth (try the “Arbor Lodge”).

I don’t doubt improvements are on the way, and I think Mississippi Marketplace would greatly benefit from the following changes: 1) an ATM machine 2) way more seating and 3) composting bins.

I’m also looking forward to the much rumored re-opening of the Sugar Cube, a sweet pastry focused cart originally started by Kirsten Jensen. I never got the chance to check it out before it closed and the owner jumped ship to Two Tarts Bakery. No word on when she’ll open, but I’ll be eating a cupcake in celebration when it does!