Portland has blossomed and I’ve been walking on petals. Pink and white dot the sidewalks and hang over pathways. Soft silk from trees dance away in the light air.
All I did this weekend was breathe the beginning of spring and wander in outdoor ecstasy (though I admit to wandering towards food and shopping all the same). Getting to my destination was sometimes more enjoyable than actually reaching it. Blissful flowers hang over the city just as densely as the rain clouds did in January. Everywhere there is something blooming and it is drop dead gorgeous and sinfully refreshing.
^ pretty flower pictures and a nice up the nostril shot of myself.
This week at work was pretty steady and I’ve been feeling more comfortable and “at home” at Bent. I’ve been helping out with more jobs and talking to more coworkers, gradually, it’s been nice. Now, of course, there’s only two weeks left, but I won’t complain. I’m already thinking of how I should pack my suitcase. Despite the activity at work on Friday I was still needing a pick me up, either emotionally or physically, I don’t really know, so I headed out for a walk/latte. During this mini-excursion I wandered into Blink, a wonderful place that sells fashionably unique lens frames. I of course found about 10 that I like, 1 that I love, and a couple in my price range. Below is a picture of the Kirk Original glasses frames that I adore. They have sparkles, a honey coloring that compliments my paleness, a unique asymmetrical design all the way from London and a hefty price tag of $416. Why is everything I want $400 or more? I’ll dream of thee glittering glasses, but my face will never enjoy your companionship.
Friday was SO BEAUTIFUL that I decided to explore more of the neighborhood after work. I of course walked myself right to a park with what else but a dessert house nestled into it. Ahh, drudgery. I HAD to buy something, how could I not? Out of all the tempting choices, I got the Irish oat cake. It was dense, hinted with some cinnamony spice, and topped with the most creamiest texture of crushed almond icing. Looks like coconut, but it was far better than that. It was nutty butter cream magnificence. I stuck the rest in the fridge. Even with my tolerance, eating the whole thing would have been too much!
Friday night I ended up going to a bar called Tube with my roommate. The happy hour, which graciously offered $2 well drinks, lasted until 10. Um. I’m a lightweight now apparently and 3 small whiskey and sprites sent me whoozy. This feeling always calls for greasy food and Jody knew of a place, Roadside Attraction, with some munchies. We ordered nachos, and like all late night grub, the cheese, salsa, jalapenos, sour cream, chips, and whatever the hell else was on those babies were absolutely to die for. I literally shoved jalapenos and piles of nacho into my mouth. The plate was cleared in 5 minutes. mmm.
I clonked out and then woke up at 5 with the inability to fall back asleep. Ugh, terrible. I met my coworker for breakfast at Screen Door. We went early and got in the front of the line! booyah! I ordered a frittata that just wasn’t to my liking (*tear). Luckily my coworker’s fried chicken on a biscuit with gravy was a mountain and he was willing to share. IT WAS GOOD. What else do you expect from carbs, fried skin, chicken, and a homemade biscuit with thick sauce? After eating, I walked downtown across the bridge and snapped a few photos of the city along the way. I was going to the Portland Saturday Market and the homeless people decidedly told me where to go (down the stairs and beneath the bridge) without my even asking. I must have looked lost?
It was opening weekend for the market and it was packed. I don’t know if it’s usually this crowded, but there were people everywhere. People, clothes, jewelry, junk, food, elephant ears, cupcakes, paintings, beautiful carvings, people playing music, scents of cinnamon and roasted pecans, kettle corn, more jewelry, hand crafted everything, tee shirts with bikes on them, jars of jam, stuffed animals, people sitting by the river and kids running circles. It was wonderful and such an opportune place to be a “budding artist”. I had so much fun wandering through all of the tents and taking my time browsing. I ended up buying a necklace by the “spoonman”. It’s a twisted fork on a chain, an appropriate souvenir for my culinary excursions in Portland. I also bought some Marionberry jam for my Grandma, Nana, and Mom. Marionberries are unique to Portland and are oh so savory, especially in pie!
After passing who knows how many hours among the bustle of people and vendors, I went for lunch, if you can call it that, at Pearl Bakery. This is another bakery that local restaurants get their bread from (it’s rare that a restaurant uses non-local products). I got an almond pistachio macaroon and regretted it. One bite and I threw the rest away and went for a plain peanut cookie. The macaroon was pretty, but maybe the flavor I chose was just too weird. O well, still had a nice texture and I tried something new!
After my bakery failure, I went to the holy city of Powell’s Books. I had just started a book that used too many big words for my lazy brain. It was good, and I’m going to read it later, but my hormones were craving something fluffy and girly to read. So I bought “One Fifth Avenue” by Candace Bushnell, author of Sex and the City. I loooove it so far and her writing is perfectly witty and full of clothing descriptions (among other things). I was guiltily indulged.
Next I was destined to do more walking until I found somewhere to read. I walked past a neato Starbucks sign, a beautiful house sided with turquoise, maroon,and a pastel woodwork with delicate carvings, more shops, lots of overpriced coffee shops, and then even more boutiques. I kept walking until I hit Anna Banana. They proved to have the cheapest big latte I could get (I was super thirsty). I sat and read estrogen laden words while sipping my usual vanilla latte. It wasn’t the best…third disappointment of the day. Grr. Luckily, my next venture was not a let down. I hadn’t eaten anything but a half a cookie, some sample nuts and coffee since 10am and it was approaching 5 and there was an Indian restaurant across the street! Perfect.
The picture probably looks like a forkful of…well I won’t say, but it’s Aloo Saag and it was delightful. It’s weird though – both instances eating Indian in Portland, they didn’t ask how spicy I wanted it…but both times it turned out just right. I LOVE INDIAN FOOD. As do most college students, I know. There’s just something about the spiciness, the sauce, and the ability of it’s wonderfulness to fill you up and make you feel cozy inside. After eating, I wasn’t about to walk 3 miles home, so I bussed myself and my leftovers back to Belmont where I settled in to watch Blind Side. Good movie.
The next morning called for pancakes. I was mad about breakfast the previous day being somewhat of a failure, so I made sure I read good reviews on Yelp before going to Cup and Saucer. Yelp = Source of Best Restaurant Knowledge. The pancake I got was flapjacktaculous. maha. For $3.25 I got one giant poppy seed almond pancake on a plate with syrup. Oh my, just…ahh. I think I’m going back there my last weekend here. It was probably the most perfect pancake ever – no burnt top, no mushy inside – it had the holiest balance of melt in your mouth fluff, slight crisps of almond and the sweetest dousing of syrup – I was a happy girl and so was my wallet.
What I love about this city, is you can walk down the street without any intention of going anywhere, and you will find somewhere awesome to hang out. After pancake, I walked down Hawthorne until I found somewhere to do freelance and that is when Common Grounds Coffeehouse presented itself as a wonderful little niche with some couches, nicely priced drinks, and coincidentally, some pleasant live music. This duo of singers with their acoustic guitars were the perfect beginning to my morning. They sounded like they were right off the soundtrack of “O Brother Where Art Thou”. That good old folksy music made me end up staying there for hours, sipping an almond latte, and working on a postcard for Kiki.
Around 2 o clock I decided I probably needed some food, so I began walking home. Rocking Frog Cafe, with it’s cute logo, is a place right near my street. The building was a perfect hangout – more couches, tables, a fireplace, open windows letting in the cool, flowery air – a prime location for reading my girly book. I was excited for my $3 cup of sweet potato soup, but it ended up coming out looking a bit greasy, and there were chunks of…chicken? in it that just didn’t look appetizing. The taste wasn’t anything like sweet potato. Boo. I ate the toast, dipped it in the seasoned soup, and threw the rest out.
The rest of my Sunday was spent lamenting the fact that I was unable to watch the Oscars and then being disappointed to find that Hurt Locker won Best Picture. Psh. I also spent Sunday sweating over my finances, and that was no fun and I have no reason to sweat anyway. All I need to do is limit my expensive coffee consumption. Oh dear shiny red Keurig waiting for me at home, I can’t wait to use you. Despite a declining mood on Sunday, my overall weekend, though full of some food failures, was also full of success in Indian cuisine, pancakes, book shopping, and spring absorption – though I hear Portland my get some flurries this week – bizarre.
