But so. PORTLAND WE ATE YOU GOOD. As I mentioned
And we'd seen EuroTrash on Eat St and we are slaves to what our tv tells us to do and the EuroTrash cart is just so come-hithery. And this is where I will get into mad amounts of trouble because we had the foie gras on chips
and YES CRUELTY TO GOOSES and I already feel terrible about it so keep your lectures. The CHIPS, however, were fresh and lightly sauced and diVINE.
And then we had the Squidfana
i.e. the calamari sandwich, and I don't love seafood but calamari is mostly crunchy legs.
And then we went to the malls and SHOPPPPPED and had mall-Chinese
and you really have to watch yourself around Eleanor now, because she is quick, and strong like an ox.
The next morning, after Amy's rhubarb cake (DID I MENTION AMY MADE US RHUBARB CAKE? WHICH I WOULD EAT FOR BREAKFAST EVERY DAY UNTIL IT WAS GONE, AND I MOURNED IT?), we went to The Big Egg and I have strong feelings about eggs, in that I love them fiercely and inexhaustibly.
I especially love them on ciabatta with steak and pesto and caramelized onions. You guys, ciabatta bread makes ALL my dreams come true.
Oh, and all the things I said I feel about eggs, I feel doubly about donuts.
And Voodoo Donuts is a DIVE but they make a maple bacon (bottom left [durrr]), an Old Dirty Bastard (bottom right: chocolate sauce, chocolate chips, peanut butter drizzle, oreo chunks), a Memphis Mafia (top right: banana fritter with chocolate sauce, chocolate chips, peanut butter drizzle) and a PB & J (top left and basically just a pb&j sandwich and therefore not worth your donutty time).
And we sort of left dinner too late that day, so the street cart pickings were slim (SWAMP SHACK I AM STILL INTERESTED IN YOUR FRIED GATOR. BE OPEN NEXT TIME, PLS) so we had spicy homemade noodles at The Noodle House
and by this time we were jaded old eaters and weren't going to be impressed by anything that wasn't, like, Miss Kate's chicken and biscuits.
Fried chicken and biscuits are not things Canada does well, and we especially do not put collard greens on them, and we have no concept of white gravy. We might be able to match you for maple glaze, though.
Because we'd gotten screwed over the day before, we started thinking about dinner at around 3, and while I was changing Eleanor's diaper on the floor of the Starbucks, Joel was googling food carts that might still be open. We'd seen The Brunchbox on Eat St AND it was open AND it was maybe ten blocks away, so we scooted down there for a Trial By Fire on grilled cheese buns.
And I thought it would be sort of gimmicky but the grilled cheese actually added to the burger, as did the enormous fresh charred jalapeño. I am going to butterfly and char one whole jalapeño for all my burgers now, because that sort of made the day for me. We did not (tragically) get any Cheezasaurus Rexes, but if Eleanor had been, like, a year older...
I mean, right? ROWR, little sandwiches.
The next morning, before driving home, we stopped at Pine State Biscuits, and I'm so glad we hit up Miss Kate's first because that chickenandbiscuit was fried and salty and hearty and great, but Pine State's chicken was a bit spicy and their biscuit was tender and light and clearly their Thing They Do Well and the apple butter/cheddar combination was UHMEZZING.
Also before driving home, we swung by Voodoo again to pick up some donuts for my folks (which we helped them eat, obviously). The Mango Tango (bottom left) tasted like fuzzy peaches, the lemon chiffon cruller was sort of disappointing for something that combines two things I love, the apple fritter was AS BIG AS MY FACE and had those crusty edges that all good fritters have, and the maple bacon was still a maple bacon.
And then we ate Mike and Ikes all the way home, like savages.
In conclusion, I'd like to thank all the Starbuckses for letting is bogart their wifi to figure out where we were and where we wanted to go, Seattle's Top 10 radio for teaching me all the words to 'Call Me Maybe,' Amy and Colleen for letting us crash at their place and for loving on Eleanor even when she was testy, Portland's terrible street signage for keeping us on our toes, Joel for doing all the driving, Eleanor for not being worse than she could help, and my stomach for having hithertofor undiscovered capacities for digestion.
Red vines for the road.