Essen und Trinken bei Prost!

The ugly one on the left is me. The so cute you could eat her with a spoon one on the right is Laura. The blurry, amorphous blob in front of us is someone else's boot shaped mug of beer...

I can't imagine a culinary tradition more appropriate to the onset of winter in the Pacific Northwest than that of Germany. This is not the season of microgreens, peas, basil or fiddleheads. Once the rains come, Northwesterners will, of course, still bike to work or don multiple layers for a drizzly hike in the Cascade range, but sooner or later we all go into hibernation mode, if only for brief, intermittent periods. This calls for a Netflix account, resignation to sky-high gas bills, and on those occasions when we do venture out, a certain kind of sustenance, one which might fairly be described as, well, a bit heavy: root vegetables; soups and pies made of squash and tree fruit; collard greens, cabbage, and anything pickled; meat, preferably of the porcine and/or smoked variety; and yes, dark beers of excessive alcohol content.

After witnessing the third round playoff bloodletting of the Virginia Tech women's soccer team by the University of Portland (it was like watching a pod of killer whales playfully tossing around a dead seal; Laura has season tickets), my better half and I met up with a few friends on Mississippi Avenue, at the recently opened Portland outpost of Seattle's Prost! I'd been meaning to head over to the place for a while, and fortunately, we were able to deflect our friends' suggestions of the Crow Bar or Amnesia Brewery and steered the crowd toward some German fare. Here's what we found...

Das ist ein Schwartzbier:

Ich prüfte das Braunschweiger, mit Brot und grüne Äpfel:

Und Laura aß das Landjäger mit Senf und Landbrot:

Na und, die Brezeln waren nicht so schlecht... All this is delivered amidst a most glückliches atmosphere and, if you get there early enough (we didn't), you can sample a variety of food carts in the adjoining parking lot, including a mexican cart run by Jesse Sandoval, former drummer of the Shins (that's another post in itself).

I give it fünf Sterne...

The Proposed Oregon Beer Tax Will Kill Us All!!!

If you live in Oregon, like to drink good beer, and don't want to pay $6 a pint for said beer, you're going to want to listen up...

Chances are you've got your ear close enough to the ground to have already heard about OR HB 2461, which was recently introduced into the Oregon legislature. The bill, as written, would increase the excise tax on beer from $2.60 per barrel to $49.61 per barrel. That's an increase of 1900% and, according to Laurelwood's Mike De Kalb by way of KGW, would likely raise the average price of a pint of microbrew to $6.00. Now, if we had a nationalized single-payer health care system, well-funded schools, healthy labor unions, a reasonably well-regulated financial industry and an economy that wasn't burrowing its way toward the center of the Earth, that might be a fair price for a pint. But as it stands, not one of those scenarios is the case. In addition to placing an undue burden on consumers, this tax increase will have a very adverse effect on craft brewers, especially ironic in a state which has garnered a reputation for its small-scale, artisanal producers and independent local businesses. We are simply going to have to take action to stop this bill, which essentially amounts to a sales tax on beer (and as we all know, sales taxes are inherently regressive and impact most those who are least able to bear them). A couple of things that we all need to do:

The first is to sign this petition. Then, we need to contact our respective state senators and representatives and tell them, in tactful but not uncertain terms, how we feel about this. You can find yours here.

That is all. Happy Wednesday, and Cheers!

Capitol Hill Block Party 2008

So I headed up to Olympia this past weekend to hang out with my favorite Portland expatriate, Jenni, and drag her along to this year's Capitol Hill Block Party, arguably Seattle's best music festival (that's Jenni's wrist in the photo, by the way). Mind you, I had to give up PDX Pop Now!, one of Portland's better music festivals, to attend, so you know there must have been some good acts on the bill...

Friday's lineup was great, and included my own city's Menomena, but I had to limit myself to Saturday. So the plan was this: The Builders and the Butchers (another Portland band; what is it with these music curators in Seattle poaching our talent, anyway?), The Fleet Foxes, Throw Me the Statue, The Hold Steady and DeVotchKa, in that order.

The festival started off on a good note for me as Jenni and I were walking in the entrance, when the girl taking the tickets said to me, "Your chops are fresh!" (my chops, while not quite Lemmy grade, are indeed fresh, if I do say so myself). We were meeting up with my cousin Brad and his people at the Comet, and being as the line outside Neumo's was insurmountably long, we decided to skip the Builders/Butchers and have a pint with Brad and his friends. After about an hour, we all headed out to the main stage, in the intersection of Pike and 10th, right between the Comet and Neumo's, to catch the Fleet Foxes:

This is the band I was most looking forward to seeing (Appearing on Letterman! Touring with Wilco!), and I'm glad to say they did not disappoint. While they describe their sound as "sleepy" on their Myspace page, I think they might be selling themselves a bit short. While that word does go some way towards describing them, it fails to take into account the impeccable guitar work, the very solid rhythm section and harmonies which at times evoke, as most good harmonies will, Crosby Stills and Nash. Not that they're a bunch of sixties folk revivalists or anything... they're indie folk revivalists! (but then, who isn't these days?) There's some rock in there as well, of course. A touch of Pet Sounds era Beach Boys, along with a little Band of Horses... I could go on. Good mix of stuff, check 'em out.

After the Foxes' set the six of us headed over to a gallery/bar (a great idea, by the way. Is anybody in Portland doing this yet?) called Grey. Alice Tippit and Chris McCullen were the featured artists on the walls, and a Sapphire G&T was the featured drink in my hand. We killed time in this stark yet beautifully appointed room (which used to be the OK Hotel, as seen in the movie "Singles"), until it was time to catch Throw Me the Statue's set back at Neumo's. Unfortunately, TMTS was a bit of a bust, and we skipped out early and headed back into the Comet to wait for The Hold Steady. Here's a shot of them taken with a camera, well... not held very steady:

I wanted to like these guys a lot more than I did. I hadn't heard much of them before the show, but they've garnered quite a bit of press in the recent past, and I figured I'd enjoy their set, which I did, just... not very much. They'd have been fun enough as a bar band, or at least marginally impressive in a Husker-Du influenced sort of way. But all they amounted to was a bar band version of Husker-Du, and that just kinda fell a bit flat. Luckily, we didn't have to wait long for DeVotchKa to go on:

You could lump these guys from Denver in with the recent rash of bands that mine Eastern European traditions for both inspiration and instrumentation, mixing said traditions with more modern sesibilities... say, Gogol Bordello, Beirut, A Hawk and a Hacksaw, etc. DeVotchKa play it a bit closer to their American roots, however. I might put them a little closer to The Arcade Fire than the rest of those gypsy rockers. A great set from one of the few bands out there these days with a tuba player.

Of course, we did eat some over the weekend, and as I haven't posted anything about food on this blog for a good long while, it would seem an appropriate time to fill you all in on a good breakfast place in Olympia, should you head up (or down) there anytime soon:

This place used to be called Rose's, but is now Sage's Brunch House. It's on the west side, just down the block from the Olympia Food Co-op, and I'm gathering it was at one point some sort of general store. Nowadays, they serve up some of the best breakfast grub I've had in quite a while. I had the biscuits and gravy with a potato pancake, while Jenni had the smoked salmon scramble, also with a potato pancake:



Well, there you have it. My weekend in Olympia/Seattle. I wish I could say Olympia offered up a little more excitement than it did, but college towns tend to be pretty dead in the summers, of course. Good thing it's smack dab between Portland and Seattle.

On the Joys of Hot Tubbing and Huge Burgers...

So New Girl, aka Risa, and I had a couple of milestones this weekend. The first was a hike into Bagby Hot Springs with the dogs. Our first hike together, and hot tubbin' to boot! The hounds are getting along very nicely, although Burke had to bust out the snarling and get some boundaries worked out with Moe in the car on the way up. Dogs will be dogs, I suppose. As for the humans, Risa was well prepared, but I misjudged the season/elevation, and wound up hiking through snow in my Chaco sandals (very capable footwear, even in the pow). Not the first time that's happened, mind you, but I was glad it was a short hike! We got up to the tubs and soaked for about an hour while having a very nice conversation with a three-generation family of old Oregonians (who were NOT naked - what's up with that? I guess "clothing optional" means that you can, indeed, wear something if you really want to, but that ain't the way they do things at Breitenbush... although to be fair, I was wearing my glasses most of the time). On the way back into town, we stopped by the Fearless Brewing Company in Estacada. I had the Jumbo Blues Burger, a half-pound behemoth with bacon and blue cheese dressing:


It's hard to fully appreciate the size of this thing from the photo, but the diameter of the bun is just shy of that of a frisbee! It was pretty tasty, although the bun itself was a little disappointing. The fries, while too skinny for my taste, were perfectly cooked: crispy on the outside, nice and mushy on the inside. Risa had the steak sandwich with grilled onions and horseradish:


In-between bites of our unhealthy but well-earned sandwiches, we partook of that other milestone: our first game of Scrabble. We're both pretty good at this game, and were talkin' a more than healthy amount of smack at each other leading up to the big event. I won't mention who beat the crap out of whom, but let it suffice to say that the winner's streak went unbroken... Here's a shot of the board:


"Stasis" and "private" (triple word score!) were Risa's, while "insane" and "equine" (double word score!) were mine. A rematch is in the works, I'm sure... Amazingly enough, the dogs behaved themselves in the car while Risa and I were going at each other over the tiles. A good day was had by all involved!

Arteries Hardening... North Carolina Style!

If you haven't been to Pine State Biscuits yet, you need to go. Now. Well actually, you shouldn't go now, as they're not open on Mondays, and even if they were, they'd have closed by this time (more on that in a bit). But you'd be well advised to head to this place for your next high fat breakfast binge, during their operating hours, of course. Many of you already know the story on Pine State Biscuits by now, but for those who don't: Three North Carolina transplants showed up in town a few years ago, set up a booth at the Portland Farmers' Market, and have been rockin' the place with country style biscuits over the past two seasons. I never checked 'em out at the market, not being one to stand in that half-hour line, but I couldn't help but notice the smell of their efforts wafting across the park blocks. A couple of months ago they opened a brick and mortar location on Belmont (mi calle!), in the seemingly cursed spot which formerly housed Ollie's Skate Shop. Cursed no more, apparently... PSB is doing a land office business. I stopped in for a sausage, egg and cheese biscuit sandwich to go a few weeks back. It was just portable enough to sustain me through the next five blocks to Freddy's without creating too much of a mess. On a subsequent trip, I tried their flagship sandwich, the Reggie, with a bottle of Cheerwine:


Cheerwine, incidentally, is a cherry soda which originated in North Carolina and is indigenous to the southeastern United States. Pine State "bootlegs" a special version of Cheerwine which comes in glass bottles and is made with cane sugar rather than high fructose corn syrup (reminiscent of the Mexican Coca Cola at Kenny and Zuke's). But enough about Cheerwine, and on to the Reggie: this biscuit "sandwich" is comprised of buttermilk fried chicken, local heritage bacon, Tillamook Cheddar and sausage gravy, piled inside of the eponymous biscuit. I should note that it's actually not their flagship item. That would be the Reggie Deluxe, which adds a fried egg to the madness. At any rate, this is a sandwich only in the nominal sense. You have to knock the Reggie over just to get a knife and fork into it. Surprisingly, it's not too difficult to make it through this thing. It's just enough for a hearty breakfast, as long as you're hungry (it also helps to be hungover). But if you order the Reggie, or its deluxe version, you might want to think twice about getting a side.

And while we're on the subject of sides, PSB has just two: hash browns and grits. I can't comment on the hash browns, but I did check out the grits on my last trip, along with the "Moneyball":


The Moneyball is fun to order if only because it feels like you're asking for drugs. It's a relatively simple sandwich, which comes pre-knocked over with a fried egg (perfectly runny yolk) and your choice of either sausage or mushroom gravy. I opted for the mushroom gravy, which was very tasty. Of course, it can't quite compete with sausage gravy, but I think that goes without saying. As for the grits, I can't comment with too much authority on them, not being from the South. My closest point of reference is polenta. But I will say that while good, they're no match for the cheddar grits at the Delta Cafe.

And now onto their hours: Pine State's open Tuesday through Sunday, from 7 am to 2 pm. Folks have been begging them to add dinner hours, which reportedly they're considering. I, for one, would really like to see it happen. I can't imagine a better bunch to provide P-town's food geeks with authentic vinegar-based Eastern Carolina Barbecue. But I guess we'll just have to wait and see...

Park Kitchen: Good, But Go Early for Bread!

Mom's in town again, which means, among other things, that restaurant madness is in full effect. Last night's post-Zenger outing was to Park Kitchen. Now, I may be the last person in Portland to check PK out, but believe it or not, this was my first time in the place. I wasn't planning on getting any photos, so I didn't bring my camera along, but I couldn't resist poaching this photo from Bay-Area blog Cooking with the Single Guy for its view of the kitchen, and the fact that it prominently features the very table we were seated at.

We ordered a bunch of small plates to share, tapas style. We also ordered some bread and olive oil, but it turned out that they'd run out of bread. This was a little disappointing, especially since their bread is Ken's, which is really good stuff. Now, I've never worked in a professional kitchen, so perhaps I'm venturing a bit too far out of the shallow end of the pool here, but how does a restaurant of this caliber not order enough bread to last through their dinner service? But I digress. First up were salt cod fritters with malt vinegar and chick pea fries with squash ketchup. The fritters were excellent, with the fish placed a little more forward of the potatoes than in other versions of this dish that I've had, which I appreciated. When you order salt cod fritters, you want to taste more than just potato. I'm not a huge fan of malt vinegar, but it worked well with the cod, making for an whimsical riff on fish n' chips. The chick pea "fries" are mashed, baked, breaded and deep fried, then served in a paper cone, belgian style. They could have been a little crisper, but they were well seasoned and the chick peas made for an interesting interior texture. The squash ketchup, which I'm guessing was made with acorn or butternut, had a flavor which was a nice balance of sweet, acidic and spicy; reminiscent, but not too reminiscent, of actual ketchup.

Next up was pork belly with apple, meyer lemon and licorice. The pork belly was braised in a sweet barbecue-like sauce, which made for a meatier texture than you often find with pork belly that's been slow roasted or confited. While the meyer lemon slices added a tartness that nicely complemented the pork and its sauce, the apple and licorice didn't seem to contribute much to this dish.

The last plate was a terrine of pheasant and dried cherries with coarse mustard and pickled beet. I wouldn't have thought of pairing mustard and pickled beet with a game bird paté, but it worked really well. The flavors were well balanced, and the mustard brought a lot to the game in terms of texture.

Going the small plate route left us some room for dessert. I ordered the meyer lemon pudding with pine nut cookies and licorice chantilly. The pudding had a nice clean citrusy flavor and a texture that was somewhere between a curd and a light cake. The macaroon-like cookies were a little on the chewy side, but the licorice chantilly was dead-on and served as a nice counterpoint to the pudding. Mom ordered the pecan parfait, a frozen cream and meringue mixture studded with candied pecans and topped with a mascarpone stuffed praline cannoli. Both desserts were unusual and refreshing; no molten chocolate cake in this place!

The final analysis? I'd say Park Kitchen pretty much lived up to my expectations. Chef Scott Dolich and chef de cuisine David Padberg's creations were imaginative and mostly well executed, the efficient yet amiable antics of the open-kitchen staff made for a good show (remember when getting a table next to the kitchen was considered a bad thing?), the service was excellent, and Heidi Wieser's desserts provided an appropriately light exclamation point to the experience. The meal was good enough that I guess I can even let the bread thing go...

No Canadian Stoner Rock For You!

I headed out with my buddy John the Irishman this evening to see Vancouver, BC arena rock revivalists Black Mountain at the Doug Fir. I was excited about this show. Black Mountain are, according to Carrie Brownstein, via her music blog on NPR, quite the lads to be paying attention to, one of many fine bands coming out of Western Canada these days. Very much in the same vein as Wolfmother, say, or Queens of the Stone Age. And to boot, the openers were Oakland's Howlin' Rain, who possess, shall I say it, far too much talent for their own good...

But alas, it was not to be. The show was sold out. I knew I should've bought tickets in advance, but I ignored my insticts, and paid for it as usual... So we headed a few blocks south to the old Pine Street Theater/La Luna space, which now houses Biwa, for a quick bite to eat. I ordered the house sake and a bowl of house-made ramen with egg and chinese BBQ pork:


The Irishman ordered exactly the same thing, but with Canadian bacon in lieu of the Chinese BBQ pork (in mockery of my evening's disappointment, to be sure). From there we headed to the Slammer, the significance of which can only be appreciated by those who live in, or frequent, southeast Portland:


That sign's been there for as long as I can remember. Apparently, the speakers used to get touched a lot. I keep coming back to the Slammer. But much as I love the place, it can't make up for Canadian stoner rock. Or maybe it's the other way around... I don't know... I'm going to bed...

Zee Salt Zat Eez, How You Say, Light Black...

Eating with Mom week (which was actually two weeks) met its conclusion tonight at a newly opened place near my house called Sel Gris. When I first spoke to Ron Dumas, one of the owners, a few months ago when they were just beginning to gut the space (which formerly housed Ken's Place and the beginnings of Kenny & Zuke's), he mentioned that they were planning on doing their own charcuterie in house, which of course immediately piqued my interest. I didn't see any evidence of cured meats being made on the premises this evening (perhaps that'll be coming somewhere down the pike), but there was plenty on the menu that looked to be worth a try. We started out with a shared appetizer, sweetbreads with apple butter and "bacon and egg":


This was quite good. The sweetbreads were tender yet substantial. The "bacon and egg" component, which you see sitting atop the sweetbreads, was an egg yolk lightly cooked inside a ball of a sort of dutch pancake batter, and studded with tiny pieces of bacon. After this, we each had a cauliflower panna cotta with coral gelee and a little dollop of caviar (full disclosure: this was comped to us by chef/co-owner Daniel Mondok, formerly of French Laundry, Carlyle and Olea, who had come over to introduce himself after seeing me photographing his food; but I assure you, the free panna cotta in no way influenced this write-up). It was an unusual and interesting combination of flavor and texture, and served as a nice segue into the entrees:


That's my olive oil poached duck breast with lapsang souchong reduction and thai black rice, accompanied by brussels sprouts, garlic and chanterelles, which was excellent. Mom ordered the steak frites:


This version incorporates hanger steak, caramelized onions, bordelaise and black and yellow potato wedges. The steak was cooked perfectly to medium and was complemented nicely by the onions and sauce. I'm not a huge fan of potato wedges, though, and like to see something more akin to fries or shoestring potatoes with steak frites. But of course, I wasn't the one eating it. Mom liked the potato wedges just fine.

Desserts were excellent as well. These are the work of Steve Smith, also a Carlyle alum. Mom had the triple chocolate mousse, with orange slices and a very tart orange sauce:


I ordered the lychee-starfruit semifreddo:


Semifreddo is something I'd never heard of until not too long ago, and has really caught my attention of late. I've made a vanilla-honey version a couple of times recently (expect a post on that in the very near future) and I'm starting to notice it in restaurants from time to time as well. This one had a mild tartness, which was a nice foil to the creamy texture of this ice-cream like concoction, and featured star fruit, lychee, kiwi and pomegranate scattered about the plate.

The meal was finished with a pair of chocolate truffles, topped with the eponymous gray sea salt.

The quality of the service matched the quality of the food. Brisk yet unobtrusive, cliched as that sounds. Overall, a very good meal and a very good experience (really, I'm not just saying that because of the free panna cotta...). I can definitely recommend the place. Just be advised that reservations are strongly encouraged!

Chicken the Bird, Chicken the Food...

I took Mom out to Zenger Farm today to meet the poultry. We headed down to the edge of the farm to gather up some windfall pears, which the chickens really dig. Here's Mom distributing the goods:


Once the eggs were collected and the hens secured in their coop, we headed just up the road to the newly-opened Cava. For Apps, we ordered the olive tapenade and the cheese plate, which featured Cana de Cabra (I seem to be running into a lot of canas lately), as well as an excellent french sheep cheese. Unfortuately, I forgot to ask what it was. It may have been a basque sheep cheese, such as Brebis or Ossou Iraty... I'm not sure. Might have to give them a call and find out. As for entrees, Mom ordered the pan-fried Pork Milanese sandwich with ham, gruyere and mustard, which was quite tasty. I opted for the Moroccan spiced roast chicken with stewed eggplant and peppers on couscous:


I hope it wasn't someone they knew.

Dining in the Bowels of the Ace Hotel

Eating with Mom week continues...

Last night we stopped in at Clyde Common, on the ground floor of the latest outpost of Seattle's Ace Hotel chain. In keeping with the Ace's MO, Clyde Common is a stark and graceful space with a studied casualness, not unlike clarklewis were the visibility factor amped up a bit; a vibe which was more or less reflected in the menu. We started with appetizers, one a dungeness crab salad with honeycrisp apples and watercress, the other a white bean, sausage and clam soup with greens and chiles. Both were superb, especially the soup, which was hearty, warming and deceptively spicy.

From there we moved on to the entrees. Mom chose the linguine carbonara, while I opted for something called "Pigboard":


It's nearly impossible to make anything out from the photo, as my candlelight shooting skills are still in development, but this was a small portion of slow roasted pork belly sided with little piles of spicy mustard, pickled onions and potato and apple salad, arranged on what looked like a small cutting board. This was nothing short of fantastic. The spiciness of the mustard, puckery tang of the onions and creamy sweetness of the potato salad perfectly complemented the pork belly. It was served with an ice cold shot of vodka, which provided a refreshing jolt after each bite.

Now perhaps many of you are pork belly veterans, but I'd never eaten it and had no idea what I was in for. The crispy skin, the thin layer of meat, the meltingly rich fat... perfect! Any larger a slab of it would have been too much. More importantly, the small portion size forced a deliberate approach, as I combined each bite of pork belly with its myriad accompaniments in carefully measured proportion before washing it all down with the vodka (as many of the chemical compounds responsible for what we perceive as flavor are alcohol soluble, the vodka shot makes perfect sense).

Unfortunately, dessert didn't quite keep up. The chocolate souffle cake with huckleberry ice cream was tasty enough, the cake yielding to the fork with a surprisingly light texture, the ice cream providing a tart counterpoint. But it seemed more an afterthought than a punctuation point. The cheese plate (Cana de Oveja and Idiazabal) was likewise perfectly solid, but the apricot lavender compote fell flat. I had a tough time detecting any lavender. The apple tarte tatin with creme fraiche ice cream and balsamic vinegar was intriguing, and might well have reached a bit farther. I'll keep an eye out for that next time around.

In related news, I couldn't help but notice that Kenny & Zuke's appears to be nearing completion. After a little on-line research, I've come up with the 23rd as the opening date. It'll be interesting to see how they stack up against... well, I guess there's really nobody to stack them up against, in this town anyway. Guess I'll have to use Zingerman's as my yardstick. But that's another post...

Brunch at the Country Cat

Mom's in town for the better part of a couple weeks, and as Mom likes to check out new restaurants when she's here, we'll be spending a lot of time chasing down some recently opened spots. And yes, I'll even be picking up the tab from time to time. We started our run this afternoon with Adam Sappington's Americana-themed Country Cat Dinnerhouse and Bar, ordering up a couple of items from the brunch menu and splitting the both of them.


I don't hail from fried chicken territory, but the Cat does what seems to me to be a pretty mean skillet fried chicken. You can sort of make it out hiding behind a custardy spoonbread to the left of the greens. Like I said, I don't know from fried chicken, but it seemed pretty spot on, nice and crispy with a moist, perfectly cooked interior. The bacon-speckled spoonbread was good in its own right and made for an interesting side, but the maple syrup could have been toned down a little.


The chicken was, however, outpaced by the duck confit hash. The chicken was good. The hash was great. The duck was mixed with perfectly done potatoes, onions and capers, and topped off with poached eggs. The dish had a subtle vinegar note which balanced out the richness of the duck and eggs. Very nice.

Brunch is all well and good, of course, but I'll be interested to see what they do with dinner. I'm putting it on my list...

Thai Weekend Part II: Pok Pok

I headed out with my friend Lowrey this evening to check out the wildly popular Pok Pok. It seems you can't swing a dead cat in Portland without hitting a thai restaurant, but for the most part their menus are identical. There are exceptions, places which elevate the cuisine beyond the typical curries and stir fries, Thyphoon and Kun Phic Ban Thai being two which come to mind. With a northern Thai street food inspired menu, Pok Pok breaks the mold as well. They even landed the Oregonian's Restaurant of the Year award this year, so I figured it was about time I gave the place a look.

We started with one of the specials, Tap Waan:


This was a duck liver salad with cilantro, mint, and a fairly mild fish sauce based dressing. I'm not generally a big fan of liver of any kind, but this was quite tasty. The duck liver and mint made for an interesting combination of flavors and textures. Next up were Papaya Pok Pok and Sate Kambing:




The Papaya Pok Pok, the restaurant's namesake, is a salad of green papaya, tomatoes, long beans, Thai chili, lime juice, tamarind, fish sauce, garlic, palm sugar, dried shrimp and peanuts. We ordered it with the optional salted black crab. The salad was a bit hotter than I expected, but it was excellent nonetheless. It didn't come with a very substantial amount of crab, however. The crab is apparently only meant to provide a salty dimension to the dish. Strangely, the sticky rice we ordered at the waiter's suggestion to accompany the salad was served in a plastic bag...

The Sate Kambing, two skewers of lamb sirloin kebabs marinated in cumin, chili, sweet soy, tamarind, garlic and palm sugar and served with a sweet dipping sauce, was good, but not as interesting as the previous two dishes.

At this point Lowrey was done but I had some room left, so I ordered the Coconut Ice Cream Sandwich:


This, I have to say, was something of a disappointment. It wasn't an ice cream sandwich as you might imagine it, but rather four small scoops of coconut-jackfruit ice cream on a sweet bun and drizzled with chocolate syrup, condensed milk, peanuts and sweet sticky rice. You'll notice the sweet bun looks a bit like a hot dog bun. It didn't taste like a hot dog bun, but it had about the same consistency and didn't hold its own against the melting ice cream. The ice cream itself, which is made in-house, was great. If they were to reconfigure this with something other than the sweet bun, it would probably work much better.

Pok Pok is well-known for their Kai Yaang, a charcoal roasted stuffed game hen, and their pork dishes seem to be especially popular as well, so I'll have to make it back at some point to try those.

All in all, it was a good meal. The food was a nice break from the thai standards, the service was attentive, the atmosphere was nice, if a bit noisy. It was a good experience. But restaurant of the year good? I think not. Although I am willing to let that stuffed game hen change my mind at some point down the road...

Happy National Waffle Day!

Yes, that's right, today is National Waffle Day. And in celebration of this most obscure of holidays, I made the waffle tour of Portland. It should be said that it wasn't really much of a tour. I only visited two waffle establishments, but as far as I know, they're the only two places in town that are specifically devoted to this batter cake.

The first was my friend Jon's cart Flavourspot in North Portland, which I wrote up a few months ago. This time I opted for the Ham and Gouda waffle:


You can get this with cheddar as well, but I recommend the gouda. You'll notice that Flavourspot's waffles are served up in a convenient portable form, perfect for breakfast on the go (Jon is slipping me a sawbuck as I write this)... I don't get up to North Portland that often, so I took the opportunity to swing by St. John's. This area has seen a number of new cafes and coffee shops open up since the last time I visited, one of them being the second location of the perennial NW 21st st. favorite Anna Bannana's:


There's also the newish James John Cafe, in the old Xeno's space, which is well worth a look. Of course, I couldn't leave the hood without getting the obligatory shot of the St. John's bridge:


Later in the day, Jenni and I headed to a recent addition to Belmont street called Jacé Gacé. The shop is apparently named for a french hang glider whose love of waffles was legendary. While Flavourspot is a solidly no nonsense operation that caters to waffleholics on the go, Jacé Gacé takes a decidedly more haute approach to the waffle, with both sweet and savory offerings. They have a number of wines and beers on hand, and have a fairly sizeable gallery space as well (this building used to house the Portland Art Center before they moved into their current Pearl District digs). The beer selection's focus is on brews from Belgium, appropriate given the "Brussels style" waffles they serve. They've done a good job with the place:


It's a pretty intimate space, with tables along one wall near the gallery, a couple of get-cozy couches across from the counter, lots of candles and a patio facing the street. I ordered the "three sides," a waffle cut into six squares, drizzled with honey and walnuts, and served with brie, apple slices and prosciutto:


The salty prosciutto and the tart apple played well together, and the savory umami of the brie served as a foil to the honey's sweetness. Jenni ordered the Curry Asparagus savory waffle, a cornmeal waffle with steamed asparagus and curry cranberry sauce:


This was a pretty mild curry, subtle and sweet, dotted throughout with cranberries. And the asparagus was steamed to perfection.

So... how did you spend National Waffle Day?

Best Fish & Chips in Portland?

The call was made shortly before ten. John the Irishman was feeling a bit sluggish, but I managed to persuade him to head out for a pint or two. I rode over to his apartment, and as we mounted our bikes to set out for the evening, we were a little unsure of where to go. We've both been sort of fed up with the usual haunts of late, the usual haunts being the Bonfire, the Moon and Sixpence, the Horse Brass and the Basement. Holman's was brought up, and I suggested the Chin Yen lounge as well, but neither place seemed to fit the bill. We rode by Lucky's, had a peek in the front door, and ruled that out pretty quickly. Then John made an unexpected suggestion: The Rose and Thistle, a scottish pub up in Irvington. I hadn't been there in probably six, maybe seven years, back when I lived in that neighborhood (incidentally, my grandmother grew up in Irvington, back in the 1910-20s). Yes, the Rose and Thistle... That's the place!

We arrived and locked up our bikes outside, and as we were walking in, I caught a look from an very attractive gal on crutches out on the sidewalk. I shot that look right back at her, and was hoping she would come back in, but unfortunately it didn't happen. At any rate, John and I settled in and ordered our pints (Newkie Brown for me, some scottish ale or other for John. In all the years I've known the guy, I've never once seen him order a Guinness). Being a bit hungry, I began to peruse the food menu, and ultimately decided on that old pub standard, fish & chips.

What arrived was a pleasant surprise. I'm rarely wowed by fish & chips, but these were better than usual. Much better than usual, as a matter of fact. Neither the fish nor the chips were what you would call truly remarkable, but they were both good enough that together they came to more than the sum of their parts. The fish was moist and crumbly, with a perfectly crisp yet minimal batter, and not the least bit greasy. The chips were just thick enough, and cooked to perfection. Now I've sampled fish & chips around town a time or two. The Moon and Sixpence does a fine job. Halibut's has come up with a good formula, and the Corbett Fish House in John's Landing does a nice version as well, with non trans-fat oil and gluten-free rice flour, no less. And there's a little place out in the Gorge (I forget the name) that has a pretty formidable offering. But the fish & chips I had tonight were probably the best I've had in the nearly eight years I've lived here. Has anyone out there had the fish & chips at the Rose and Thistle? Or do any of you know of a place that might top what I ate tonight? Among a certain set, fish & chips can be a contentious issue, like BBQ in Memphis or KC, so feel free to chime in with your opinions! Discuss...

I didn't get a shot of the fish & chips (I don't typically bring my camera to the bar), so I've selected the above mugshot of Rip Torn to stand in for my dinner.

Good beer and good food in the presence of good people always makes for a nice evening. But if only that girl on crutches had come back in...

¡Finalmente, hoy comí en Toro Bravo!

I finally got around to checking out Portland's newest spanish restaurant, Toro Bravo, earlier this evening. Their website is still under construction, but you can see their menu here. I staked out some real estate at the bar with my camera and my copy of The Omnivore's Dilemma, ordered up a glass of Rioja (just for the record, I'm really not down with the stemless stemware), and set about perusing the tapas menu for a couple of small plates.

I started with the Tortilla Español. Of course. To my mind, Tortilla ranks right up there with Patatas Bravas and seared scallops as the acid test for a tapas joint (Barry and Shellane, are you guys listening?). This tortilla was a simple preparation, packed full of chunky potatoes, served at room temperature and topped with romesco and a lemony aioli. Very tasty, and a bargain at five bucks.


For my other selection, I went with something a little more exotic, skate wing, which appeared to have been lightly sauteed... with a LOT of black pepper, which for some might be a bit overpowering. However, for my taste, which leans toward aggressive flavors, it was perfect. It was served with roasted garlic, olives, capers and a single small red pepper. I'd never had skate before, and this was quite a revelation. It's excellent, almost scallop-like in flavor, with a texture somewhere between flaky and shredded, if that makes sense.


All of this begs the question, of course, how does Toro Bravo compare to Pata Negra? I'm a little reluctant to make that comparison, as Toro Bravo isn't even a month old yet, and two tapas is by no means enough to make any kind of judgment. I'll take a stab at that once I've tried a few more of their tapas, and of course their paella. That said, I would definitely recommend giving Toro Bravo a try. They seem to be on to something.