Portland, I love you so

A weekend jaunt to Astoria

A birthday surprise from dear Mao, we spent the weekend in lovely Astoria. We partook in the usual tourist attractions – wandered along the waterfront; observed sea lions and harbor seals (and I named one Leon Spinks; the resemblance was uncanny); saw the Goonies house and promptly left said house; hiked to the column and ascended the many stairs; ate and drank at many of fine establishments (the Pig ‘N Pancake not being one of them); and enjoyed a night at the Commodore. We ate many a piece of salmon jerky from Josephson’s, wandering among the town smelling of smoke and fish oil, with many a cat following us. We sampled various Portland products – Stumptown, Sol Pops, a new Cargo outpost. We perused the produce, crafts and locals at the Sunday farmers’ market, while feasting on steamed buns and tortillas made that morning from fresh corn masa. And we even crossed the river to Washington to dip a toe into the Pacific in Long Beach. It was a wonderful weekend, but like any trip we take lately, we are always overjoyed to return to Portland and its food, its beer, its general splendor.

Another Wednesday

Yesterday was just another day. It also happened to be my birthday. I called into work “sick.” As I am self-employed, it was an awkward conversation. In my head. With myself. But, I got the day off.

I spent a leisurely Wednesday, reading newly gifted books, a few hours in bed with Anthony Bourdain. Mao took me to Pix Patisserie for birthday treats – a light lemon curd tart and a glazed chocolate mousse with orange vanilla crème brûlée and praline crisp. More lounging, moving between the balcony and the bed, book glued to my hands.

We eventually wound our way downtown for a lovely meal at Clyde Common. This was one of the first restaurants we fell in love with when we first visited the city. Tucked away on the second floor, with views of the happy hour chaos below. I started with a little gems salad and green goddess dressing. Mao had crispy fideos in a complex squid ink broth with seafood and sausage. We followed with pasta dishes – beet green ravioli in brown butter sauce and chickpea pappardelle in arugula pesto. All were delicious, as food at Clyde Common nearly always is. We left elated.

It was a wonderful birthday, filled with great Portland food. And the celebrations continue with a quick foray to Astoria next weekend.

Twenty pounds of basil

Since moving into an apartment with a balcony, I have declared myself a gardener. This declaration was, however, summarily ignored by any and all plants I have since acquired. All except my basil plant. The cucumber vines are yellow and wilting in the sun, the lavender waivers between depression and heaving itself onto the sidewalk below, the artichoke plant droops sadly, the strawberry plants were only recently brought back from the brink of death, the parsley displays withered and browning leaves despite ample watering, all while the basil thrives inexplicably, rivaling those gargantuan pots of basil they sell in grocery stores. A neighbor who recently house sat our meager garden expressed her jealously over my basil.

And so, while I had visions of summer salads, feasts of berries and other epicurean fantasies, I instead have mountains of basil to utilize. I began modestly, a caprese salad, flavoring tomato sauces for spaghetti. But, still the basil plant produced its tender leaves. I moved on to green goddess dressing, adding copious amounts of chives to the recipe, the other survivor of our balcony garden. The plant produced further still. Anything we ate at home became accented with basil – lemonade, jams, potatoes, salads. I resorted to small tabletop bouquets of flowering chives and sprigs of basil. The apartment smelled divine, but still there was more basil to use before the summer ended and the rain began. Then I discovered pea pesto and a delicious ending for any basil that may survive well into September.

Pea Pesto
1 bag frozen petite peas, defrosted
1 cup fresh basil, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 cup Parmesan, grated
Juice from 1/2 a lemon
Pinch red pepper flakes
Salt and pepper, to taste
Olive oil

Place all the ingredients except the olive oil in the bowl of a food processor. Pulse the mixture and slowly pour in the oil until the pesto reaches the desired consistency. Adjust the seasoning. Serve the pesto slathered on crostini or tossed with spaghettini.

An August pause

I have been remiss in writing on this space. One post sharing photographs from recent travels and then nothing. But, that’s not to say I haven’t been thinking about food. I have, maybe even a little too much. There have been sun filled afternoons on the balcony, obsessively tending to my tiny garden, daring an aphid to even think about roosting on my tomato plants. There have been Saturdays spent practicing my rusty Spanish at Sandy’s taco truck. There have been Sunday mornings at the farmers’ market, on a bicycle no less (a girl will overcome any fear with the promise of fresh produce). But, there have not been enough days at home cooking or hours spent writing about food, sharing recipes and ruminations. And, so yet again I promise to return to this space with more regularity.

I will begin slowly, a recipe here (see below for horseradish mashed potatoes), a restaurant recommendation there (Mee Sen on North Mississippi Avenue, incredible non-Americanized Thai). But, I am back, reminding myself how fun writing can be, especially when avoiding a looming deadline.

Horseradish Mashed Potatoes
2 lbs Yukon Gold potatoes, scrubbed
1 cup half and half
1 tablespoon butter
Salt and pepper, to taste
Several heaping tablespoons of prepared horseradish

Quarter the potatoes, with the peel on. Place the potatoes in a large pot and cover with water. Simmer uncovered until the potatoes are tender, about twenty-five minutes. In a small sauce pan, bring the half and half, butter, salt and pepper to a simmer. Keep hot while the potatoes finish cooking. Drain the potatoes and smash with a masher or force through a food mill. Stir in the milk mixture, then carefully fold in the horseradish. Adjust seasoning, then serve.

And we’re back

Thirteen days, three countries, six European cities, four tiny Franconian villages. We walked miles and miles; we sweated; we stammered unintelligible sentences in German, Czech and Polish; we explored countless farmers’ markets and more football stadiums than I could handle; we drank every local beer we could find; and we ate and ate and ate. It was incredible.

Mao sampled braised pork, various sausages, currywurst, meat in aspic, and the occasional vegetable. I thrived on salads, dumplings, gooseberries picked off the bush, fried cheese sandwiches and other creative vegetarian solutions to the meat centric diet of central Europe.

And now we’re back in Portland, with more ninety degree weather, but it’s Portland, our wonderful, wonderful Rose City.

And so to celebrate and/or mourn our return stateside, some food related photographs from our travels:

A pause and a recipe

I need a bit of a break from the blog. I tried to write something, anything once a week via the ‘Market Report,’ but that became tedious and boring. If it was boring to write, then reading some laundry list of items I purchased at whatever farmers’ market must be beyond boring to read about. So, I am taking a step back from the blog while Mao and I go on vacation for a couple of weeks. I hope to return refreshed, with a renewed interest in all things food related. Where we are going has fried cheese sandwiches, perfect for soaking up one too many pilsners; currants and mushrooms and every other imaginable type of produce; almost as many Turkish delicacies as Turkey itself; and other such fanciful delights, despite its regional tendency of a meat heavy diet.

But, before I leave, I have a small, but important, food revelation to share. Summer is finally upon Portland and with the sun out and the temperatures ever-increasing, everyone is grilling. We have gone to countless cook-outs the past couple of weeks and most of our friends are not of the vegetarian or vegan variety. So, Mao brings the beer and I bring the veggie burgers. Now, a typical veggie burger is nothing to write home about, but with a little effort, it can become something decadent, something even the most carnivorous of grill masters lusts after. With the average, plain, boring veggie burgers I tote to said cook-outs, I also bring a bowl full of arugula, ignoring the incredulous stares of those hauling bags of potato chips, and a triple crème cheese of some provenance, the more pungent, the better. My routine in preparing the best veggie burger is always the same. Begin with several frozen patties. Stake out a corner of the grill, glaring at anyone who might attempt to lay down a rogue hot dog or brat on the same space. Cook the burgers until nicely charred. Place several thick slices of runny cheese on the burger and allow the heat of the grill to melt the cheese. Remove from grill and top with a generous handful of fresh arugula. And devour. No need of bread or condiments or plastic American cheese. It is that delicious. Even Mao, who gorges himself on meat whenever we’re not at home, has taken to eating several veggie burgers in lieu of other protein choices.

Southern food in the Northwest

My mother is not Southern, yet somehow she managed to master cheese grits. She claims it’s because she’s from southern Germany and that’s southern enough for her. Whatever the reason, she makes delicious grits, transforming dull ground corn meal into a rib sticking delight. So, when my good friend Kyna, a Northwesterner currently living in the South, sent me a care package containing none other than Carolina grits, I dug out my mother’s cheese grits recipe. She likes her grits with smoked gouda, served with grilled shrimp. I increase the intensity of the flavor of my grits, still using gouda, but adding copious amounts of hot sauce. I finish it with a gremolata, which cuts the richness of the dish.

Cheese Grits with Gremolata
6 cups water or vegetable stock
2 cups milk
Salt and pepper, to taste
2 cups grits
2 cups grated gouda
Several dashes hot sauce

Bring the water, milk, salt and pepper to boil in a large pot. Whisk in the grits in a steady stream. Lower the heat, cover and let the grits simmer for five minutes. Whisk in the cheese and hot sauce. Serve with gremolata.

Gremolata
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 bunch Italian parsley, chopped
Zest from 1/2 a lemon

Combine all the ingredients and allow the flavors to blend while the grits cook.

Market report

Three days, three different markets. I was not kidding about my market addiction. Yesterday it was the PSU market for raspberries, blueberries and strawberries for a World Cup brunch. Today is was a bike ride to the King Market to stock our own pantry – fava beans, tomatoes, carrots, mint, more raspberries, cucumbers, maitakes and fresh garlic. Tomorrow it’s Pioneer Square Market to purchase eight pounds of cherries to be shipped overnight to a cherry connoisseur on the east coast.

And as this is a brief post, some long over due recipes:

Fava Bean Salad with Mint
1 pound fresh fava beans
1 small sweet cucumber, thinly sliced
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tablespoon lemon juice
2 tablespoons walnut oil
Salt and pepper, to taste
Handful fresh mint

Shuck the beans and blanch for one minute in boiling water. In a small bowl whisk together garlic, lemon juice and oil. Season with salt and pepper. In a medium bowl, toss the fava beans and cucumber with the vinaigrette. Transfer to a plate and top with julienned mint.

Mashed Fava Beans with Parmesan
2 pounds fava beans
1/2 cup Parmesan
Juice from 1/2 a lemon
2 tablespoons olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste

Shuck the fava beans and blanch in boiling water for two minutes. Shock in ice water and remove the outer skins. Transfer beans to a food processor, along with the remaining ingredients. Pulse until incorporated. Serve slathered over crostini.

Market report

Portland’s farmers’ markets are my addiction. It was a mild addiction as first, something to look forward to at the end of the week. But, now I crave the market, must visit the market, despite any scheduling conflicts. Take Saturday, I had an all day preservation conference to attend, but I needed my market fix. So with an early rise and an early MAX ride, I was downtown when the market opened and spent half an hour perusing and purchasing before hopping on a bus to make it to the conference. I made away with sungold tomatoes, cherries (Rainier! Brooks!!), shelled English peas, hazelnuts, cucumbers and fava beans. The latter I am lately quite obsessed with and have many, many recipes to share soon.

The market addiction carried on through the weekend and a stop to the Sunday King Market was a must, for the purchase of more tomatoes, more Rainiers, more wandering among the stalls. This addiction is nearly out of control and it’s not helped by the fact that a pint of tomatoes or a pound of cherries won’t last the day in our house. And with a different farmers’ market for every day of the week, I find myself planning my errands to coordinate with the various market locations. We may have no money by the end of the summer because of my market addiction, but we will have eaten well.