Ode to Portland

Don’t worry though. I’m resilient and it was so worth it. 

Ladies and gents, I give you Portland, in a nut shell–or in food photos and a few words:

I arrived late Monday night and had a delicious meal at a little French restaurant called Petite Provence in Alberta. 

It was easily one of the highlights of the trip. Those three little guys up there? An almond macaroon that tasted like a cloud of crispy love, a chocolate cup of decadent chocolate mousse, and the middle is “Lemon Graffiti” it has a thin crispy layer, a touch of lemon creme, and  chocolate cream. Perfection in a bite. Paired with a white bourdeoux. Dinner was tapas: mango ceviche and Hazelnut Steelhead Filet on a bed of leaks and artichoke hearts. Hands down it was the biggest “treat” I’ve treated myself too as well as the grandest experience of a meal I believe I have had on my own. {Side note…it was also my first time eating out alone. 

Subconsciously maybe I was compensating… “I’m an adult. I will order a full meal and drink two glasses of wine if I want. I am enjoying this. Damn it. See!!? I got dessert. Clearly I am a pro at this.” Or something like that.}

Later I met my roommate who was a sweet 20 yr old from Brooklyn. It should be noted that I found a cheap place to stay on Airbnb.com. It wasn’t a hostel or a bnb…I don’t know what it’s definition was exactly but it’s technical name was “Inn Alberta Arts” and I shared this room with my new friend…

And despite the colors and judgment you might be tempted to pass on such…it was delightful. 

Tuesday morning I got up early for a run through town–challenging after my “HIIT” workout I did Monday that left my out-of-shape-muscles aching. Showered and headed into town. 

I walked across the Hawthorne Bridge and along the river. 

Most of my morning was dictated by my child-like bladder and I walked all over the city, in every convoluted direction, with absolutely no intention, just to appease my bladder. Bad. Bad, bladder.

I explored Pioneer Square, The Historical Society, The Portland Art museum–which currently has a French exhibit about the Tuileries Gardens and it took me back. I miss Paris. I miss Europe. New goal: plan next trip to Europe for SOON.

I had lunch at SouthPark.

The lime aioli on the shrimp salad? Amazing. The creme brûlée? Creamy.

Then I hiked my tushy straight UP for a long ways to Washington Park and the Rose Garden. There I decided to fall in love with roses.

At this point my feet were killing me–but there was still much to see.

Powell’s Books–a three story magnificent bookstore where I thought for a moment that I may have actually died and gone to heaven. Upon my realization that I had found a version of heaven on earth I proceeded to feel guilty that everyone I knew couldn’t be present to celebrate such a beautiful moment with me. 

Then I walked to the Pearl district and Chinatown before calling it quits at VooDoo Doighnuts. I bought two: an old-fashioned and a cream filled maple. My expert opinion? The old-fashioned was quite possibly the best old-fashioned I’ve ever experienced. The maple didn’t need the cream. I would have preferred a regular, hole-in-the-center guy to thoroughly experience the maple–which was divine. 

{Author’s note: For best experience, do not devour or inhale. Eat one bite at a time and only half a doughnut per sitting. But do not leave overnight. You’re welcome.}

Then a bus ride “home” where I momentarily crashed and recharged enough to walk down the street to Tin Shed and ordered the same meal Guy Fiori (from the Food Network) did upon his visit–The Baby Beluga.

I am still unsure how they put yams, avocado, kale, spinach, jasmine rice, capers, raisins, and lentils altogether to taste yummy. But they did! It was like a party everyone was invited to and we had a blast!!

The night ended with yoga play on the porch, topped off with a superb night of rest.

This morning my roommate and I made the 4 mile journey west to The Grotto–a cathedral, meditation garden, and spiritual Mecca set into the side of a cliff. We parted ways there and I spent 2 1/2 hrs. praying, meditating, journaling, and healing. 

Another bus ride and a rescue pick up from dawn who didn’t want me walking in the dark alone at 11pm…and I’m home. 

Brava, Portland. I think I love you. 

I will be back.