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It’s been a busy summer of travel for us, including multiple trips to the East Coast for Jeremy. A couple weeks ago we both were able to take some time off for a 5-day trip to Western Massachusetts, to visit family, and Portland, Maine, where we had both wanted to visit for quite some time.
I suppose it goes without saying that Portland is a big foodie town.
Poutine...made with duck fat...oh yes
That there is a homemade meatloaf panini with gruyere, pickled onions and horseradish mayo at Duckfat, a small spot with a devoted following and a penchant for frying its potatoes in…duck fat, of course. Given our love for poutine, we could hardly resist ordering a large size topped with local cheese curds and duck gravy. All complemented by a Maine microbrew, it was as excellent as we had hoped.
Of course, Maine is best known for its seafood, so we did our duty in seeking out the best. We enjoyed incredible oysters at Street & Co., a restaurant that specializes in uber-fresh seafood and a menu that changes daily. The rustic decor alone is worth a visit, with low wooden beams and antique furniture. We went for a happy hour snack of a dozen oysters – of course now I don’t remember what kinds, but we tried three types, all local to the area. Ironically, we had thought about ordering oysters at a restaurant in Massachusetts, only to be told the oyster of the day was from Hood Canal. I’m sorry, but we’re not flying across the country to get oysters that live within 50 miles of us.
A dozen oysters
Maine is famous for its lobster rolls, so we couldn’t leave without sampling those. We drove down to Cape Elizabeth for what we’d heard was the best lobster roll in the area at the Lobster Shack at Two Lights. Even though it was 2 p.m. on a Monday, the place was bustling with visitors. The view, too, was spectacular.
The lighthouse at Two Lights
The lobster roll and fried clams were both listed as “Market Price”, which we will from now understand to mean “Ask before ordering!” The lobster roll basket, with fries, was a respectable $14.99, but the fried clams turned out to be $27.00! I mean, they were tasty fried clams, but not THAT tasty.
Fried clams and a lobster roll, please
The lobster roll was really good – a hot, toasted bun with big chunks of lobster and huge blob of mayo to cap it off. Mayophobes, stay away from this one.
Close-up of the lobster roll
We weren’t as prolific with the photos on this trip, but for a quick roundup of other sites we hit, eating and non-:
- Evangeline for their three-course-for-$30 Monday night dinner. This French place was right near our bed & breakfast and was truly memorable – fantastic service, impeccably prepared food with local ingredients and a steal at $30 for three courses.
- The Standard Baking Company, known for their fruit scones and brownies so rich that one bite is more than enough.
- Brunch at Hot Suppa! They have a BLT with fried green tomatoes. Whoa.
- Bagels at 158 Pickett Street Cafe in South Portland. I deeply regret not taking photos from this place, not much more than a shack but with all house-made baked goods, including some of the best bagels you can find outside of NYC and Montreal. We got there at noon and they had THREE bagels left – they’re that popular.
- We (briefly) hit up Old Orchard Beach, which is the Jersey Shore of Maine. ‘Nuff said.
- Did some credit card damage at the outlets in Freeport, better known as the LLBean corporate HQ and military compound, as well as at Stonewall Kitchen, the specialty food shop that sells my favorite, garlic and onion jam.
It does sound like all we did was eat, though we managed to squeeze in plenty of exploring and some exercise. My main regret is not being able to spend more time there – 2.5 days were not enough to see all we wanted. I’d love a chance to re-visit and drive up the coast on a Nova Scotia-bound trip in the future.
I love the drive across the Columbia River into Oregon, when the factories segue into city buildings and Portland’s skyline comes into view. We had sped down I-5, eager to spend a night outside Seattle and eat ourselves silly in the Rose City. Portland – a city brimming with creative ideas and concepts when it comes to food – was the perfect option for a weekend trip. Yet, every time we come to Portland, it becomes harder and harder to leave. Each trip gives us a new restaurant to discover and a different neighborhood to explore.
Welcome to Oregon
Armed with a list of recommendations from friends, coworkers and the Internet, Lisa and I were determined to squeeze in at least three quality meals during our short time in Oregon. After decamping in Irvington (where LK’s cousins live) we made our way to Laurelhurst Market, a restaurant/butcher that’s a pantheon for carnivores in the Pacific Northwest. Inside the dark and intimate confines, we were whisked to the bar where I sipped a local Pinot Noir while Lisa studied the menu. Everything came farm-to-table, so fresh/sustainable the bartender joked the meat was “grass fed, oat-finished and constantly massaged throughout.”
Meat dominates at Laurelhurst Market, to the point that vegans and vegetarians are straight-up discouraged from even trying, and cooking the steaks well-done is “not recommended.” We glanced only briefly at the mussels and non-beef dishes on the menu before selecting the flank steak (made from Wagyu beef) with chimichurri and a steak with arugula salad. We also ordered an appetizer of sweetbreads (yes, glands) and a side of brussels sprouts.
As blog readers know, we are big fans of sweetbreads. Laurelhurst’s version were by far the best we’ve ever had. Crispy on the outside, melt-in-your-mouth insides, with a slight briny flavor. They also came with a slice of baguette topped with something called “bone marrow butter.” Your heart hurts just thinking about it, right? This might have been the best dish we’ve eaten in months.
The steaks were seared to perfection, and as we dined we chatted with our bartender (a transplant from D.C.) about the culinary renaissance Portland has undergone in recent years.
The Grilled Cheese Grill
Our favorite aspects of PDX are not limited to restaurants, but also include the pods of food carts stationed throughout the city. Endless options are available, ranging from grilled cheese on Alberta St., to poutine and frites inside the cart confluence on 12th and Hawthorne. Not limited by bureaucratic red tape and boosted by low start-up costs, food carts are now woven into the food experience in Portland. There’s too many to list, but our new favorites include the two mentioned above, particularly the poutine with its irresistible blend of gravy and cheese curds. Oh, did I mention we (cough) took a weekend off from Paleo dining on this trip. No sense in limiting yourself with so many options around, especially while on vacation. This is the reason we decided the coup de grace should be a dulce de leche milkshake, delicately balanced with sea salt, from the Patisserie cart.
One final memorable snack was at Random Order Coffeehouse and Bakery in Northeast, where we sampled the Meyer lemon pie and coconut cream pie, washed down with (what else) a French Press of Stumptown coffee. Both pies were rich without being too sweet, with flaky, delicate crusts.
Shaker lemon pie from Random Order
We packed a lot into 24 hours, and that isn’t even going into the time spent at Powell’s or the sports bar Claudia’s on Hawthorne in Southeast, where we joined a raucous crowd to watch the gold-medal hockey game between the USA and Canada, all huddled around pitchers of IPA and bottles of Session beer – Oregon’s finest.
A taste of Wee Britain
In tourism magazines and Clipper brochures, Victoria BC likes to tout itself as a foodie destination. But we were suspicious that the culinary scene was nothing but a tourism trap, where the restaurants are boring and unimaginative in order to pacify the blue-hair tourists after tea at the Empress.
But on our last two trips to Vancouver Island, we’re slowly coming away with the fact there are some hidden gems in Victoria. None more so than our last trip this past weekend, where we savored one of the better meals we’ve eaten in the 14 months we’ve lived in the Pacific Northwest.
The entire trip was made possible by a ridiculous Clipper-and-hotel offseason package deal. In the summer months, the Victoria Clipper is comparable to a plane ticket, but in January they’re practically begging you to take the two-and-a-half hour ferry ride up the Strait of Juan de Fuca. So early on a Saturday morning we took the Clipper to Victoria and checked into a swanky boutique hotel.
Breakfast, or brunch by the time we arrived, was at Mo:Le Restaurant, near Chinatown. It was packed with a mix of hipsters, tourists and vegans even close to noon, so they sent us next door to Habit, a coffee shop that wouldn’t be out of place in Seattle. We enjoyed loose leaf teas with names like “Tea for Sad People” and read free copies of Cook’s Illustrated and Meatpaper while we waited.
People, if you’re in Victoria, go to Mo:Le. The reputation is that of a veggie-friendly spot, and they can certainly make most things vegan, but there’s a burger on the menu and sides like local lamb sausage and free-range chicken. The varieties of eggs benedict were enticing, but since we’re not eating dairy or grains right now (more on that in another blog post) we kept it simple. Jeremy had the special omelet with sun-dried tomatoes, mushrooms and spinach both days we went (yes, we went there both mornings) while Lisa ordered a yam and onion omelet that may have sounded weird but tasted out of this world. The omelets were the lightest we’ve ever had, nothing like the leaden, overcooked eggs you get at so many breakfast places. Their housemade hot sauce, which we should have purchased to take home but inexplicably didn’t, tasted like it was made from tomatoes picked yesterday.
In between touring Victoria, helping out the Canadian economy with our hard-earned American dollars and catching a film at the Victoria Film Festival (the Danes are a dark, dark people) we discovered another outstanding local restaurant called Stage Wine Bar. It’s away the tourist center of the Inner Harbor in the Fernwood neighborhood, a good 20-minute walk from downtown. The little retail intersection has a few above-average restaurants, but Stage really blew us away. They serve small plates and both tastes and glasses of wine, several from Vancouver Island wineries. We started off trying to be restrained (we had just polished off a dozen oysters at Ferris Oyster Bar) but were unable to control ourselves once the first few plates started coming out of the kitchen.
We ordered smoked ham from the selection of local charcuterie; a salad of marinated white anchovies, celery, fennel, marcona almonds; crispy fried local octopus & lemon; duck confit with caramelized caraway cabbage and wine syrup; and then chicken curry with apple apricot chutney, because we couldn’t help ourselves.
Everything was delicious, but the standouts were the octopus and duck confit. The octopus was like the best calamari you’ve ever had, but lighter and more flavorful, with the perfect amount of crispness on the outside. The duck confit was rich and balanced by the caramelized caraway cabbage, which was braised until almost dissolving. This is another must-visit if you’re visiting Victoria, especially if you want to avoid the overpriced tourist slop closer to the harbor.
The memories of the best dishes we had (seriously, Lisa woke up the next morning still thinking about that octopus) made up for the fact that our return Clipper boat was canceled because of mechanical problems and we ended up getting bused 7 hours home to Seattle, via the BC Ferries, arriving home at 12:30am. The good news: they gave us 50% off coupons for a future Clipper trip, so we can return and revisit some of our favorite tastes.
Indian food at Vij's
This list came to mind as we came up for air tonight at Vij’s, an Indian restaurant in the sleek suburb of South Granville Island, Vancouver, BC. This topic was apropos at the moment because both Lisa and I were trying to find other restaurants that had such an impact on us as this one. Remember, this is the restaurant Mark Bittman (of NYT and The Minimalist fame) said was one of the best Indian restaurants in the world.
As expected, there was an hour wait at Vij’s, but it was assuaged by the relaxing lounge, a few local pilsners, and free tastes of pakoras and other goodies the staff kept passing around. The appetizer of BC shrimp was spicy but complex, with mung sprouts. We don’t even know that that means. We had the lamb popsicles, de rigeour for Vij’s, which as advertised were flavorful, tender and bathing in a curry sauce that we both wanted to bathe in. The scene stealer were the short ribs, rich with cinnamon and cardamom and served with roasted kale. The syrupy gulab jamin practically drove us to tears. We spent 10 straight minutes so engaged in worshipping the food we didn’t realize we were completely ignoring each other.
Given our tendencies toward nerdy foodie obsessions, you would think we could rattle off a laundry list of places. But we only came up with four others in that elite category. That’s right, four.
Liverpool House, Montreal, Quebec: A farm-to-table joint tucked into the working class suburb of Petit-Bourgogne. The menu is written on a chalk blackboard, and includes such delicacies such as Guinea hen and pig-ear salad with micro greens. It’s not so much “Quebecois” as it is local fresh ingredients prepared incredibly well. What we remember most about this meal is that it was prepared so perfectly that in each bite you could tell how much care had gone into the dishes. One of those meals where you just don’t want it to end.
112 Eatery, Minneapolis, MN: We love this place so much we drove 8 hours out of the way on our cross-country roadtrip just to go. So that should tell you something. This tiny place in the Warehouse District isn’t exactly small plates, but more like everything on the menu looks amazing and is under $15 so you might as well order everything your stomach can fit. The duck pate bahn mi, any of the pastas, the sandwich with harissa, anything on special: just order everything you crave and worry about the bill and your stomach capacity later. Also, we are still recovering from that one time we ordered the tres leches cake. That was in May of 2008.
The Kitchen Table Bistro, Vermont: We ate a LOT of amazing food on our trip to Burlington in October of 2008. We would be remiss not to mention the pizza with local bacon, cheese and onions from American Flatbread or the bountiful farmers market downtown. But the Kitchen Table, in the nearby town of Richmond, was astounding. It’s in a converted house and the chefs/owners/couple use as many local ingredients as possible. The decor was gorgeous, but appetizers and dessert stood out the most: cider steamed mussels with bacon and aioli, and apple cake with cinnamon ice cream. GAH.
Paseo, Seattle, WA: We don’t care if it’s “only” a sandwich shop that’s been around for years and only takes cash and often runs out of bread and has scant if any seats and almost always has a line out the door and doesn’t have a website. We can’t think of any other place that always, ALWAYS satisfies like Paseo, with its pork sandwiches bursting with Jamaican spices and aioli and grilled onions and cilantro and the freshest baguette you’ll ever find. Guaranteed foodgasm 100%.
We took a brief trip to Vancouver in November of 2007, and even in the rain and gray skies we loved it. So it was an easy choice to come back for the long Memorial Day holiday weekend.
We decided to rent an apartment instead of doing the hotel or bed and breakfast thing, because that way we could cook with food from the Granville Island Farmer’s Market (basically Vancouver’s Pike Place Market). We wanted to stay in the neighborhood of Kitsilano, which we visited briefly last time around and knew right away it would be the perfect place for a low-key, non-touristy vacation. We found an apartment on a site called AirBnB, which is kind of like couchsurfing but instead of crashing on someone’s couch, people rent out their entire rooms or apartments. Our rental is 2 blocks from the beach and 3 blocks from one of Kits’ main drags of shopping and restaurants. That, combined with 70-degree days, has made this mini-break an excellent decision all the way around.
Our trip is not, of course, all eating and sunbathing (though we’re doing our share of that as well.) Saturday morning we tackled the infamous Grouse Grind, a grueling trek up Grouse Mountain that the locals call “Nature’s Stairmaster”. It’s about 3 km through the woods on an incredibly steep switchback.
It starts out somewhat genteel, and then lactic-acid hell sets in around the 10-minute mark. Both of us are in good shape, and our hearts felt like leaping out of our chests and calling it quits. What makes it even worse is that we see Vancouverites breezing up the mountain, including one dude wearing a weighted vest. The hard-core trekkers are members of a mountain club, and they use a computer chip to record their times. We managed to finish in a little under 90 minutes, passing several people along the way. We felt good about ourselves, until we learned that the fastest time of the day was 33 minutes! The record is an absurd 24 minutes, accomplished by a Kiwi in 2005. How? Why? Ugh!
No trip to Vancouver, though, is complete without an attempt at the Grouse Grind. It’s a killer climb, but the views at the top (a vista of Vancouver and lower B.C.) are SO worth it. So is the feeling of satisfaction.
We rewarded ourselves with a few hours of relaxing on Kits Beach, kind of like the Canadian Santa Monica, with bikini-clad women and muscle-clad men frolicking in the sand in front of a spectacular vista of the water and mountains.
Then we strolled along the water to the larger and a little less sceney Jericho Beach for drinks at the Jericho Beach Sailing Centre, with more amazing views and microbrews.
Going into the weekend, Jeremy said we were going biking on Sunday, but would not disclose where. Lisa said if it was longer than 20 miles or included hills, she would not be happy. Sunday morning, we woke up early (too early for some of us, ahem) and after a quick breakfast at Fresh Flours in nearby Phinney Ridge, we drove up I-5 to Anacortes to catch the ferry to Friday Harbor for a “leisurely” bike ride around San Juan Island.
We made good time up to Anacortes (less than an hour and a half) and as we drove down the scenic cove to the ferry terminal where we saw a ferry waiting, we congratulated ourselves on making the 10 a.m. ferry.
Problem was, after paying for parking and walking our bikes over to the ferry dock, there was no 10 a.m. ferry. Whoops.
“You can catch the 12:05 to Lopez and transfer to get to Friday Harbor,” the ferry employee told us, seeing our fallen faces.
We faltered momentarily at the thought of waiting two hours, as it would not put us into Friday Harbor until 2 p.m. We thought of calling it quits and going home, or trying to find an alternative bike ride. But then we decided that since the sun doesn’t set now until about 9 p.m., and it was 70 degrees and sunny, and we’d driven all the way, we might as well make the most of the day.
So we caught the ferry, hopped off at Lopez Island and quickly hopped back on the ferry to Friday Harbor.
That’s the view from the deck of The Doctor’s Office, a small cafe where we had lunch — half a turkey club and half a veggie special, all melty with boursin cheese and carrots and zucchini.
Properly fortified, we hopped on the bikes and headed to South Beach, at the southern end of the island. Here was where that whole “leisurely” bike ride was proven a bit of a misnomer. Let’s just say there were a lot of hills, a certain amount of sweating, some angry tooth grinding by Lisa, and ultimately gorgeous views of Mt. Baker, Mt. Rainier (a good 150 miles away) and a calm beach to relax upon.
After an hour of lazing about, we got up to leave, with visions of pints of beer at the end of all those hills back. But as we started up the hill, Jeremy’s gear caught on something and bent halfway out of joint. We started a sweat a bit, realizing we were almost 10 miles from Friday Harbor, with no cell phone service to call a cab.
Fortunately, we had Canadians. A convoy of British Columbian firefighters (really!) were on their way back from the beach, and we hailed them to ask if their cell phones worked. Instead, they poured out of their pickups, circled Jeremy’s bike, discussed animatedly how to repair it, and did just that with a rock and a screwdriver and a bit of elbow grease.
So we biked back to Friday Harbor and rewarded ourselves with microbrews from the San Juan Brewing Company at the Front Street Alehouse, as well as a tasty seafood chowder highly recommended by the waiter, with big chunks of yam and salmon.
Comfortably sated, we made our way back to Anacortes and home — with a deuce-deuce (22 oz.) of San Juan Brewing Co. pilsner in tow for our efforts. Next time, we’ll know the ferry schedule better, and perhaps try Lopez Island, which is supposed to offer some flatter terrain for biking.
Lisa
Jeremy
