Boy, is it.

This place has been dormant since Thanksgiving. Sometimes I wonder how I used to manage to post every weekday. But I’ve been feeling a dearth of creativity in my life lately, so I’m resolving to bring this thing back to life. After all, dedicating all of one’s non-working, non-sleeping hours to wedding planning isn’t exactly healthy.

Unfortunately, that’s all I’ve got right now while I try to ramp back up. The save the dates went out this weekend. And you know what that means, right? The list (ohhhhh, the list) is tentatively, almost, maybe final. If I could create myself a custom, wedding-themed dart board – or punching bag, for that matter – it would simply say, “THE LIST.” But now that that’s over, it’s all smooth sailing from here on out, right?

But yes, the save the dates. They were designed by my good friend, Michelle, and I love how they turned out. She was able to take the vision of the Columbia Gorge (where we’ll be married) straight out of my head and put it on paper. Can’t wait to work with her on our invitations, too.

Boy, is it.

This place has been dormant since Thanksgiving. Sometimes I wonder how I used to manage to post every weekday. But I’ve been feeling a dearth of creativity in my life lately, so I’m resolving to bring this thing back to life. After all, dedicating all of one’s non-working, non-sleeping hours to wedding planning isn’t exactly healthy.

Unfortunately, that’s all I’ve got right now while I try to ramp back up. The save the dates went out this weekend. And you know what that means, right? The list (ohhhhh, the list) is tentatively, almost, maybe final. If I could create myself a custom, wedding-themed dart board – or punching bag, for that matter – it would simply say, “THE LIST.” But now that that’s over, it’s all smooth sailing from here on out, right?

But yes, the save the dates. They were designed by my good friend, Michelle, and I love how they turned out. She was able to take the vision of the Columbia Gorge (where we’ll be married) straight out of my head and put it on paper. Can’t wait to work with her on our invitations, too.

Portland is pretty sly.
Disguised as a sleepy town, the artisans there are often, sneakily, a few steps ahead. Especially in the booze department.
Let’s not forget the liquid treasure produced by the vineyard-filled Oregon valleys surrounding Portland that shook up the American wine world, or where the craft beer movement established a formidable foundation.
Several years back, I visited Clear Creek Distillery in industrial NW Portland, at the time a refreshingly anomalous producer of eaux de vie, grappa and wine brandy. Nowadays, Portland has so many craft distilleries that they have their own district deemed Distillery Row and a passport to guide you through it. Clearly this is not something I would pass by. Listen up.

Aware that intoxication was a fair prediction for the afternoon, I opted for the distilleries within walking distance of each other. Unfortunately, due to tasting hours as well, that ruled out Stone Barn Brandyworks in SE’s Brooklyn neighborhood. (Alas, something to look forward to for next time.)
And so we started out at Integrity Spirits, ready for the first stamp in our adorable passport (which cost $20, and waives tasting fees at all distilleries on the self-guided tour).

I was familiar with Integrity’s Lovejoy Vodka, a beautifully designed bottle housing a lightly viscous vodka with hints of chamomile. Yummy.

The 12 Bridges Gin was my favorite, with a bright blend of herbs and spices reminiscent of Hendrick’s (light juniper and that hint of cucumber).

The Hazelnut Vodka was a nutty punch to the palate, super tasty and roasty. Almost Nutella-like with cocoa character.

Next we sampled two batches of infused vodkas under the Sub Rosa label. The Tarragon was fresh and vegetal with licorice and pepper notes (a fun booze for cooking). The bright yellow Saffron was complex with lemony coriander, cumin, and pepper notes.

Integrity is famous for their Trillium Absinthe Supèrieure, Oregon’s first absinthe and one of the first in the US after it became legal. The 120 proof absinthe is intended to be diluted and sweetened per traditional ritual, which we prepared during the tasting. The result was one of the smoothest, most palatable absinthes I’ve enjoyed.

Next up was New Deal Distillery down the street. Known for their vodka, I was most impressed with the range of product New Deal presented. All exceptionally well-executed.

I was startled by the drinkability of New Deal Vodka. Smooth “sipping vodka” with clean botanicals and an easy finish. Even the 88, a traditional vodka distilled in copper stills, bottled at 88 proof. A piece of cake! A delicious piece of cake.

I got really excited when we moved to the handsome Gin No. 1 and Gin No. 3. A study for purists, these are two very different gins using juniper as the sole botanical. The first is a less-refined early-Dutch-style gin, cloudy, lightly yellow, and viscous. This is not a mixing gin, it is meant to be sipped neat and enjoyed. The latter, Gin No. 3 is bright and complex, shocking such a melange of flavors (pine, mint, citrus) could come purely from juniper berries. Absolutely delectable. This was a gin I needed to own (and do).

We tasted a lovely coffee liqueur and new ginger liqueur, but both were eclipsed by the Mud Puddle. Unlike most cloying chocolate-flavored liqueurs, here cacao is added to this spirit prior to distillation for a dry and subtle, rich after-dinner treat.
The brave of us finished off the tasting with a fiery shot of Hot Monkey, a piquant blend of five Southwestern chili peppers, lending just enough heat to keep you wanting more. Forget the bloody mary, this stuff is great on its own or with a splash of tropical fruit juice.

Overall I was most excited for our visit to House Spirits, which was the perfect place to finish off the increasingly galvanizing day.

Known for their Aviation Gin, the owners at House Spirits were more like hosts, and us their guests. They offered Aviation and Fever Tree tonics as we perused the shop before diving into the tasting. Their famous full-bodied, Dutch-style recipe blends juniper, cardamom, coriander, lavender, anise seed, sarsaparilla and dried sweet orange peel. This stuff is major.

A growing star among the ranks at House Spirits is their Krogstad Aquavit, an invigorating take on the traditional Scandinavian spirit lightly spiced with star anise and caraway seed. A chilled glass will warm even your winteriest nights!

We quickly moved to the big guns, the Limited Release Line. These small-batch specialty stunners range in production from a few cases to a few pallets, each apothecary bottle numbered.

We got to check out Gammal Krogstad, a barrel-aged version of the previous Aquavit, rested for 10 month in 3 barrels (a 53 gallon House Spirits whiskey barrel and two 30 gallon used House Spirits rum barrels). The blend of the three produced a honeyed grandfather to the crisp Aquavit, with deep amber resonant notes.

Then we tried the White Dog.
House Spirits White Dog un-aged whiskey (50% abv) is made from 100% malted barley and Oregon Bull Run water. Unlike moonshine, White Dog starts big and rich, with a malty nose, chewy mouthfeel, and insanely disparate flavors from white pepper to lemon peel, flower petal to Halloween candy. I shouted “WHOA” when I took my first taste, and “more?” after my second. This was my trophy bottle of the day, and if you can find it, recommend you buy it at once. You won’t be sorry.

So yeah, we were pretty tanked by the end of the day. But all the better for wandering into random rose garden picnics.
I love you, Portland. Thank you for being so good to me. Until next time…

distilleryrowpdx.com

When you have a hit on your hands, what comes next? For the folks at Grüner, the answer is open a badass, invitingly-pretentious downtown cocktail room around the corner.
Enter Kask. The kids love it. The product is immaculate. The space is… a mining den? Whatever, it’s adorable. You’ll love it.

Judah is a man about town. He knew the pretty bartender. He ordered off-menu. He asked for a Gunsmoke and she broke out the big matches.

After a few minutes smoking his inverted bucket glass, she filled it with Rittenhouse Rye, Gran Classico, Combier Rouge, bitters and burnt orange. It smelled like heaven. A burned-out, destitute version of heaven, anyway. Deeelicious.

I was wooed by the exotic odd-man-out on the menu, the High Desert Swizzle. This summer slow-burner paired Del Maguey Vida mezcal with strawberry shrub, lime, and demerara sugar. At first smoky with a vinegar punch, it finished fruity-bright and mellowly sweet. Dangerously addictive. And not unlike an agave-spiked Strawberry Kiwi Mister Misty (that’s a good thing).

I was impressed with Kask, the sexiest drinking den in downtown Portland yet. Even if the chairs are borrowed from a kindergarten classroom, they bring us all that little bit closer…

1215 SW Alder St. Portland, OR 97205
grunerpdx.com/kask

As soon as I moved away from Portland, something seemingly magical happened (coincidentally, I’m sure).
Everyone was raving. Long before the Alpine craze spread like wildfire, downtown Portland’s Grüner was winning diners over with their “greener” (which grüner means in German) approach to goulash and spätzle. Perhaps it was my visit to Bavaria and the Austrian Alps in my formative years, but old-world Middle Europe is my soft spot. Upon my visit back to Portland, Grüner was at the very top of my list.

Brooke and I met up with Portland(-by-way-of-LA) transplant Anna of Banana Wonder for happy hour on Grüner’s sidewalk patio, rumored to be one of the best happy hours in town. After one glance at the exceptionally reasonably-priced menu I understood why.

I couldn’t deny the allure of the Aquabeet cocktail, with Krogstad aquavit, beet gastrique, and lemon juice. It was bright, earthy and refreshing. And strong!

The Dangerous Summer was a fitting choice for the day, which Brooke and Anna enjoyed, comprised of Appleton Jamaican White Rum, Maraska maraschino, raspberry syrup, lime, and flamed lemon. A little too easy to tipple…

Essentially, we ordered one of everything… Starting with the signature beet pickled hard-boiled eggs.

The duck liver mousse was forceful and pungent. We all sampled it silently, politely admitting later that we favored it least of the bunch.

On the other hand, the house-made liptauer cheese with radishes, celery and pretzel croutons could have come in a much larger crock, as we devoured it in seconds.

I insisted on the rabbit frankfurter, brioche bun & dill pickle relish, which was buttery and tasty. I wanted to order a second to get a larger bite, but wisely waited for everything else to come out first.

Anna is a bit of a pretzel freak, and I am right there with her. We were both disappointed not to see Grüner’s on the happy hour offerings. Our server apologized as it only appears as a side on the dinner menu, but after some begging agreed to oblige our request. A curious braid, this pretzel was almost a baguette hybrid, but with good flavor and chewy crust/flesh ratio. Anna seemed to give it a thumbs up.

Gosh, we were still hungry. Time to call in the charcuterie — salami, spicy coppa, cornichons & mustard tided us over until the big sausage came.

It wouldn’t be Alpine cuisine with bratwurst, and Grüner’s is plump and delicious, covered in sauerkraut alongside sweet mustard. This is truly all I need, and a wise way to finish our Germanic snackage fest. We called for our check, which arrived in a gorgeous piece of literature on Weimar Culture. Had only they dropped that sooner, we may have left sated and smarter.

527 SW 12th Ave. Portland, OR 97205; 503.241.7163
grunerpdx.com

If you find yourself trolling Pinterest for like super cute Scandanavian dream breakfast joints, well, SE Portland’s Broder is your jam. The narrow subway-tiled dining room / open kitchen is crowned with geometric branch-like light fixtures and punctuated with bright yellow and robin’s egg blue industrial chairs. The brunch menu is short and sweet, rich with Swedish staples. The coffee is Stumptown, so everyone wins.

Brooke enjoys a kaffe

I am always a sucker for signature dishes, so from a quick read vibed that the friterade äpplen was my best bet. These thick grilled apple fritters are dusted in sugar and served with baked eggs, a blistered apple pork sausage, sour cream and maple syrup (sweet+savory always wins). It’s hard not to enjoy such a smörgåsbord, though I found the fritters to be plated as more of an afterthought than deserved center stage.

Brooke’s Broder breakfast sandwich looked delicious, a manly open-faced situation on sourdough rye with country ham, Swedish farmer’s cheese, marjoram cream, two baked eggs, house ketchup, and a big sharp utility knife. And yet a light portion. Rawr.

Judah had to steal the limelight with a sizzling cast-iron skillet holding his förlorade ägg. These “lost eggs” hid under fried brown bread, spinach, bleu cheese and walnuts. Crunchy!

Broder is the kind of cozy café I not only want on my corner, but would want to open a branch of on my corner. Solid, across the board. Skål!

2508 SE Clinton St. Portland, OR 97202
broderpdx.com

I remember a time when I silently giggled at my friends who ordered cider at the bar, all smug with my Black Butte Porter or Maker’s ‘n soda. Funny how things change.
Cider has come a long way in the past several years, and I think I’d actually dub 2011 my year of mad cider crushage, climaxing with my favorite brew to date: Bonny Doon’s Brut-ish ¿Querry? Apple/Pear/Quince Hard Sparkling Cider.

My most fruitful cider rendezvous this past year however definitely took place in SE Portland’s Brooklyn neighborhood at a little hole-in-the-wall called Bushwhacker Cider.
Bushwhacker’s is America’s only urban cider(-only) pub, featuring seven ciders on draft, 120+ ciders in bottle (to stay or to-go), and if that’s not enough, darts. It was a perfect golden afternoon when Brooke and I visited the garage space (mythical to me by that point from Brooke’s reports), and I couldn’t have been more excited to try the draft sampler tray – for a steal, no less.

The sampler was bounteous, beginning with a bone-dry crisp-n-clear cider and running a colorful spectrum, from the farmy house-brewed cider (tanks filled the back of the room) to sweeter caramel fizzies. The feat of the tray was in pointing out the vibrant palette cider is capable of, and how like most spirits and brews, there’s a golden niche for everyone. Even haters like me.

1212-D SE Powell Blvd. Portland, OR 97202; 503.445.0577
Bushwhackercider.com

We hurtled a blockade and ambled down over the train tracks. Given the crisp evening, I was pleased the restaurant was walking distance, but surprised skipping tracks was part of the route. Judah and Brooke have never let me down, and could practically market themselves professional Portland concierges, so I didn’t question. On the other side of the train yard we soon hit SE Clinton Street, a familiar stretch lined with family residences, shade trees and bicyclists. A rustic clapboard corner ahead housed our destination, Restaurant St. Jack.

Opened by Canadian chef Aaron Barnett (23Hoyt, Olea) and restaurateur Kurt Huffman of Chefstable, St. Jack embodies the best of a traditional Lyonnaise bouchon (read: with a healthy focus on meat). Alissa Rozos (Bluehour) rounds out the team on the pâtisserie side, making the best canelé in town. We saddled up at the bar bastioned by grandfather candles ready for a taste from one of Portland’s rising stars.

The bar program by Kyle Webster distracted me from the Pôts Lyonnais option, traditional 46cl bottles imported from Lyon serving wine direct from the barrel. That said I was pleased with my Baccarat cocktail, an elegant union of bourbon, Carpano Antica, Aperol, Maraska Maraschino, and Regan’s No. 6 bitters. Brooke’s Guillotine was another killer, with Appleton V/X rum, Cointreau, lemon, housemade grenadine, and Kübler Absinthe.

Judah swears by the Gratin De Macaroni, oven baked with Gruyère, Aged Cheddar, Rogue Blue, Bacon and Shallot. I’m not often swayed toward overly-rich mac ‘n cheese, but this dish was extraordinary.

I was seduced by one of the board’s specials, Coeur de Boeuf. I hadn’t ever eaten beef heart, that I’m aware of, so chanced this classy joint would make me love it. Seared bloody rare and sliced alongside perfectly golden pommes frites and tarragon-thick béarnaise, the lean, flavorful muscle was a carnal delight.

We shared a dessert, settling on the Chocolate Pastis Pot du Crème with carmelized peaches and lacey chocolate wafer. The combination of disparate flavors was intoxicating and unique. A perfect adieu.

After dinner we walked down the street to the Savoy Tavern for a night cap. A cozy neighborhood joint, we ran into friends and enjoyed a late night happy hour scratch Old Fashioned. Oh, how I miss Portland sometimes.

2039 SE Clinton St. Portland, OR 97202; 503.360.1281
stjackpdx.com

One of the first people I met when I moved into my undergrad dorm was a compact and spry fellow down the hall called Joel Domreis. He was duct-taping a cardboard box to the wall, which he planned to use to house martini glasses. Those glasses may not have survived freshman year, but his growing love-turned-obsession with coffee, bicycling, and green living during those formative years have proven otherwise.

Eight years after he began roasting his own beans in his backyard, Joel’s Courier Coffee has developed staid clout and a devoted following alongside heavyweights like Stumptown in the always-pioneering Portland coffee scene. Initially a bike delivery roastery, August 2010 saw the opening of Courier’s formidable downtown café (an experience which Joel blogged extensively about). Around the corner from Powell’s Books and the Ace Hotel, the spare bar boasts “no lines, no register” and offers a selection of house-made baked goods. And killer fresh coffee, of course.
Joel keeps it real. ”We are dedicated to being small, local and awesome.”

Time to make the cold brew.

Strong coffee + fancy ice.

“We serve coffee like beer, except we don’t serve beer.”

923 SW Oak St. Portland, OR 97205; 503.545.6444
couriercoffeeroasters.com

Thanks to Portlandia, everyone who didn’t already know the Northwest’s sweetheart intimately now thinks they do. Six years after leaving the sleepy Rose City behind, I visited at the close of the summer (AKA Portland Oregon’s one month of absolutely perfect weather) for another tango with my beloved former home. Yes it’s saccharinely adorable as ever, but there is —and always has been— a lot more to it than eco-friendly hipsters making art, with birds on it.

Yes, bike racks have knitted koozies

Surely one of the utmost highlights of 2011 was wandering Portland’s lush summer streets, agenda-less, seeing where the days took us. One afternoon landed us in Ladd Circle park and rose gardens where friends transformed a neighborhood roundabout into a gilded picnic for several lingering daylight hours.

Joel from Courier Coffee produced cold brew pint jars from his Chrome bag

Reunited with old friends, what better to do in Portland than garden party?

We congregated at Andrea and Bruce’s quintessential Craftsman bungalow in Southeast, overgrown with gorgeous foliage, fruit trees, and a rich vegetable & herb garden out back.

With a trip to New Seasons (my favorite market, period) and a supplemental walk through the garden we effortlessly had a beautiful summer menu in the works. Friends sipped crisp Oregon white wine and gin blackberry cocktails as we prepared the meal.

Judah made a vegetarian risotto with oyster mushrooms, lemon and white wine. To have alongside I prepared succulent peaches with goat feta, basil and Nasturtium blossoms; shaved summer squash with fennel and lemon; and kale & avocado salad.

Then Brooke‘s peach and blackberry chocolate upside-down cake knocked our socks off! And led us into another favorite Portland pastime… wandering to the closest neighborhood watering hole for inexpensive whiskey cocktails and if you’re lucky an accidental dip in a koi pond (don’t ask).

All week I will be featuring my Portland adventures. And boy were there a lot! From distillery tours to coffee roasters, sausage mongers to cider houses. Keep it tuned…