10 days in Portland. This is the story of What I Ate.
Breakfast at Podnah's Pit BBQ. The Best in the Whole Wide World. Seriously. This unassuming plate of buiscuts and sausage gravy is the ONE AND ONLY food that David and I drool over, dream of, long for, would cut off our pinky fingers to get it shipped to us out here in New York. It was the ONE AND ONLY meal out that I just had to have. It was perfection as always.
Oooooooohhhhhhhh good gracious graaaaaaaaaaavvy!
Mom and I cooked a lot together while I was home, which was just the dreamiest thing. We would sleep in, work out , have coffee at Dragonfly, shop (hi mom!)
and then cook a feast for lovely and various collections of our nearests and dearests! Mild scallop and shrimp curry, fried red plantains courtesy of Kuaku the kool, and of course greens.
Our next feast was delicious salmon and crunchy noodle salad - both Ina Garten recipes, because obviously she is a Goddess - which were lovely. But shown here is our famous, delectable treat of an appetizer... burstingly ripe purple figs....
absolutely jammed with creamy, oh la la luscious French bleu. Oh The Pretties. My Precious Pretties. Try them, you'll love it or your money back.
You already saw a lovely meal shared with my Dad and that side of my family, but here's a little home meal that really can't be beat. (that's my Grandma Ruth- hi Grandma!)
and I'm not just saying that because Dad got this halibut just for me...
And of course when in Portland, one must Coffee.
With dear friends, if possible.
Of course in Portland, one must also Dive Bar. Again, with friends is the recommended way to enjoy said must.
And last, but clearly far from least, my goodbye dinner with mom, mere hours before my red-eye back to the big apple. Homemade gravlax - which tasted a lot better than it looks - inspired by a CSA delivery that was simply teeming with the sweetest dill you could imagine . Cheese. Prosecco. And episode of Poirot. It was so us, and so totally fun. As was the whole lovely, Portland-a-rific visit.
This past Christmas, upon my arrival in Portland I was struck with the somewhat dizzying sensation that Portland was no longer my home, but that New York wasn't exactly home yet either. I was in flux, a no man's land of transition and growth. This visit was a completely different beast. After the usual slight disorientation immediately following my arrival (nothing that one night under Mom's roof couldn't assuage) I felt right at home. And yet, I caught myself saying 'back home' and meaning New York City. I am a girl of two homes now, and I couldn't be happier. Portland, OR and New York City - seriously, what could possibly beat that?