Good morning,
I missed you.
I’ve had a foray away from the computer,
and therefore, you, but I figure you
are there and we’re chatting.
Oh, it’s just me typing? Well darn. I
figured this was a two-way street. So,
tell me, how was your week?
I
wanted to give you a tour of Portland Oregon, and I will--sort of. You can call this a “Traveling with Joyce
or Jo,” whichever.
On Friday we drove from Junction City to
Portland in the sunshine, but the following
day we slogged through rain, and what do you do in the rain?
Eat!
Great, just what my
husband and I needed the day after Thanksgiving where I gave honor to Julia
Childs with an Ode to Butter.
I buttered the turkey before putting it in
the oven. The stuffing called for butter. I buttered the broccoli and the
mashed potatoes, and oh yes, the sweet potatoes were glazed with butter and
brown sugar.
No butter in the pumpkin pie—no, but that
dollop of whipping cream on top was close enough.
I’m buttered out.
But thank you,
Julia Childs, for telling us to cook with butter. And now that we know
fat is good for us, well, what can I say? Ask daughter
number one; she will rave about how fat is not only necessary to our health and welfare but will satisfy hunger.
That first evening in Portland I wanted a
steak and salad--had one, not a good one though. I took the recommendations of
the motel receptionist,
and we went four doors down, to Bill’s
Steak House. Don’t do it.
Breakfast: “Let’s have lox, bagel, and cream cheese at Kornblatt’s,” I say to husband dear.
We’re off with our little dog Sweetpea in
tow.
The
23rd Street area is my favorite place to be in Portland, quaint shops, good
food, and it is very dog-friendly with
water bowls outside the shops, and many
well-behaved dogs leading their people down the street. Sweetpea waited in the car during our breakfast/lunch though.
Begin
your day right--with a dill pickle.
Leaving Kornblatt’s
fortified, we spent the day slogging through the rain. Rain does not keep
Portlander’s home—the streets and shops were crowded and finding a place to
park was a challenge even for a scientist with a slide rule. (Remember those?)
On one rainy day, my kids and I had the
best day at Disneyland for rain did keep people away and we ran from The Indiana Jones ride to Splash Mountain and back again about
three times. I splashing in the rain is one difference between Pacific Northwest
people and Southern California People.
We found Finnegan’s Toy Store in downtown Portland that I had seen
advertised as a sort they don’t make anymore. Not a big box store but with lots
of stuff, educational, scientific and playful.
Sculpture alongside the sidewalk. Oregon is the Beaver State after all.
We got wet, carried the dog, who would balk when she either got too wet, or decided she had had enough. wore ourselves
out, went to our motel.
Okay,
time for more food.
I didn’t feel satisfied with food so far; I wanted something with pizzazz. So what
did I suggest? A pizza! One cannot be un-cheered
with a pizza. Of course, it needs to be a
good pizza.
Enter
Pizzeria Otto on Sandy, Blvd.
I tried to get a photo of the cook throwing
a pizza dough—we were sitting at the bar, close to the pizza oven--when one of
the other cooks told me that one really shouldn’t throw the dough, “It should
be treated like a delicate flower.”
The pizza was cooked Neapolitan-style, soft
dough, crispy at the edges, just right. An excellent
Caesar salad with anchovies preceded
it. We added a glass of Chianti, and I
was satisfied.
The following day we drove back up Burnside
Street to 22nd Street and stopped at The Elephants Deli, a
delicatessen reminiscent of an old European market with prepared food, food to
order, sweets, all made in-house, along with kick-knacks to browse.
They were featuring their in-house-made
fondue, the sample tasted excellent, so I
bought a pint to take home.
Fondue
Do’s and Don’t.
Do: Expertly stir your fondue fork in a
figure-eight pattern, don’t just dip.
Don’t: Lose
your baguette in the cheese—tradition dictates that if you do, you must kiss the person to your left. (This
might be a do, or a don’t.)
Do: Pare with white wine. (Duh.)
We’re home;
the sun is shining.
Where shall we go next?
