Portland

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A Rambler American, circa 1964-1965. Isn’t it a beauty?

I love poppy season!

We watched the Winter Hawks beat Edmonton in the first game of the WHL Finals on Saturday. Good golly are they a terrific team! We parked far a way because we are cheap skates and love walking, a match made in heaven. It just so happened to be dry as we ambled and I got these terrific shots in the Lloyd District. As Ray Charles most brilliantly sang, “The night time is the right time…”

Detail of “Rendezvous” by Dane Eisenbart, one of many gorgeously meticulous and highly imaginative pieces currently on display at the Albina Press, where I enjoyed this week’s decaf latte. The hubster had a cappucino. All was right with the world.

Whatever you say, man.

Portland isn’t called the City of Roses for nothing.

One of the best garden borders, ever!

The hubster used the force to find this sign. It is strong in him.

Oh man, this city! Sometimes, when it is rainy, rainy, rainy, and the hubster’s underpants are sopping wet from the bike commute home, we contemplate other places. Dry and sunny, hot, hot, hot! But that’s only impetuous anger. We love this place. It is wildness and humor and the best damn food anywhere on earth, wrapped up in a blanket of green and grey. Everything I want is here, except for the sun for the occasional L O O O N G stretch, but that only makes it more beautiful and warm when it IS here, and sends my body out with infinite gratitude to meet it. Splendid!

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Happy Cinco de Mayo! Which celebrates the Mexicans winning a war against the French, I think. But, like any other holiday, the celebrating comes down to food and drink. So some favorite Mexican food it is! This is at Taqueria Nueve, which I sorely missed during its five year absence, even though Tapalaya, also one of my favorite places, lives in its old location.  In particular, the Coctel del Pulpo, a sweet and spicy bit of ambrosia, haunted me. I literally had dreams about it and sought a replacement hither and yon, to no avail. I am most grateful I can get it once more, along with a mighty fine chile relleno and vegetarian tacos. Arriba!

On to La Taq (no website, but next door to Podnah’s and from the same owner), which is really Tex-Mex, but, to me, Mexican food is all in the family. They have super green chile, fantastic tacos, and a pretty spectacular queso, too. Unfortunately my food photos are blurry, probably because I was too hungry and excited to sit still. The kindly bartender is shaking my margarita, my favorite in town, I might add, with the perfect balance of sour and sweet. It’s pretty snazzy!

And back to Mi Casa. The hubster and I had a serious New Mexican food craving yesterday, so we walked to the market for provisions and whipped up a feast. There was green chile, of course, brown rice, smoky garlicky beans, guacamole, and home made tortillas, rolled into gut busting burritos. All turned out muy, muy delicioso, though my Dad would probably be disappointed to learn that I didn’t have any meat in mine. The older I get, the more vegetarian my leanings. Life is full of surprises!

P.S. I almost forgot! Have you tried Xochitl chips? Oh my goodness, they are the best. Thin and crispy, just like the package says and seriously good! A chip gone to heaven and back, maybe. The only problem? I feel like I’m cheating on the glistening chips made in Hood River with these Texas Wranglers. Sorry!

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Hi there! Happy Saint Patrick’s Day! Happy Birthday to my Great Aunt Mary, the kindest woman I ever knew, who would have been 106 today! I am not wearing green, but I do have a bowl of cauliflower soup with roasted jalapeno happily swimming in my belly. Does that count?

And now, a step back in time, to Saturday. We had brunch at Olympic Provisions to fortify us for the walk ahead. This is not your typical brunch, not in the least. Everything impressed. Service with a smile, a wink, a nod, and a laugh. Then there were the consumables. The Edith Piaf cocktail was as tasty as it was beautiful. The badass plate of food is the Braised Short Rib, with laser potatoes and lardons, because that hunk of meat was clearly not enough. The hubster, beyond pleased with his choice, devoured it in no time. I had the biscuits and gravy, and they were the best I’ve ever tasted. Boom! To top it off, the chefs were very kindly to us, engaging in conversation while they worked their tails off to make every last belly full and happy. They even gave us a plate of fresh house smoked trout, just because. Oh my, my…

buttercup winter hazel

blossoming quince

Like all of Laura O. Foster’s walks, we learned a little more history and saw Portland in a new light, despite having walked and driven by these buildings a thousand times. Take Jantzen, for instance, did you know they were originally manufacturers of sweaters and hosiery? When a local rowing team asked them if they could make a lightweight suit for winter, the world of bathing suits was forever changed.

Hi!

This bulldog, originally from a Mack Truck, is now happily ensconced on a Volkswagen. Or maybe not. I don’t suppose anyone can ever truly know the feelings of a hood ornament.

We stopped for a sweet at Alma. The icons are chocolate!

Lone Fir Pioneer Cemetery – Funny how the clouds came just in time for the photo…

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A fond memory of snow: the bright stillness of night, everything aglow.

The best and gentlest man I know with my favorite, and almost nineteen year-old, girl.

At Bob’s Red Mill, the white is a sheet of ice. I bought a cardamom bun, scads of dry beans, and a 25-pound bag of whole wheat flour. I can’t believe how quickly we go through it.

A “Welcome to Kentucky” flight of whiskey and bourbon at Tapalaya. Not a bad start to a lazy afternoon. I love sitting my nose close to the rim and inhaling just as much as I love the flavor on my tongue. Maybe because it reminds me of pipe tobacco and my Grandpa, the tins he stowed around the house, with me lifting the lids just enough to concentrate the scent in my eager nostrils.

The flight was followed by the quite literal blue plate special of crayfish etouffee, black-eyed pea salad, and garlic bread; and an oyster po-boy, sweet potato fries, and red beans. All was fabulous, as always, the biggest surprise being the salad. Unaccustomed to cold black-eyed peas, we were leery, but the flavor won us over right-quick.

My weekly decaf latte. It does a body good.

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Happy Sunday! Yesterday was a lovely day, straight from my Colorado childhood, with fat flakes dancing and swirling and uttering hush. We walked to the park with our cardboard “sleds” to join the multitudes. It was a mellow ride compared to the toboggans and saucers, but no less fun. I laughed, loud and hearty, my heart full of joy at such a simple pleasure. We came home, my legs wobbly from so much running up the hill,  and warmed with hot chocolate and a deliciously hot bath. We cuddled, humans and felines alike, and snacked with movies on the sofa. And this morning, I awoke to the magical Dr. Zhivago coating of ice. Lovely and crackly, with birds, squirrels, and this human skittering to feed and capture the splendor of it all.

Look at these sweet kids! Twenty-three years since our first date. Oh, how the time flies…

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