Even though Millie may have stolen the show, our trip to Portland had even more goodness to offer.  It was all a little random, so I think it’s time to whip out the bullet list again.

• After we arrived at the Hostess House, Dominic, Miles and I decided we needed to decompress and eat some dinner.  (We didn’t leave until 9:30, which is wayyyy past Barrie’s bedtime, so she opted to stay in and get some sleep.)  Most of the week prior to our trip had centered around an email chain planning out all the places where we would eat while in Oregon so we decided not to waste any time and made our way to Pok Pok, a hipster-Thai-fusion restaurant in Portland that is super famous for the Fish Sauce wings- chicken wings marinated in fish sauce and cane sugar for 24 hours and fried, then doused with a generous splash of chili sauce.  When we sat down and were greeted by our stereotypical Portland waiter (thick horn-rimmed glasses, fixed-gear-bicycle-ready capri pants, willing to talk about the pandan-infused tap water with the same gusto that a sommelier would describe a bottle of Rothschild), I was a little leery, but I was wrong.  I generally don’t like chicken wings, fried meat or chicken skin, but I wanted to eat the shit out of those wings- especially the skin.  Yum.  (The $4 a piece prawns were less impressive though.)  I am so sad I didn’t take a picture of those.
• We spent Saturday wandering around Portland proper- a visit to the Saturday market, some quality time at Powell’s, lunch at a  Lebanese place where the waiter may or may not have been an actual employee (he didn’t know the bathroom required a key even though there was a HUGE sign declaring so right behind him, and when Barrie ordered lebneh and eggs, he asked her if she really needed the eggs.  Huh?) and some afternoon art appreciation.

I was sad that I was still too full from breakfast to try the Wedge Fries- mostly because the sign said they are “tossed with happiness.”  How can you NOT want to eat something that positive?

Miles was NOT too full for a 2nd breakfast, obviously.

Miles, Dominic and I spent the afternoon at the Portland Art Museum, where we had some stereotypical discussions about the nature of art and checked out the really awesome China Design Now exhibit.  I wanted to take pictures of the Ju Jin models, but I got caught by a 120-year-old docent and had to delete them.

Barrie wanted something a little more kitschy so she went to check out what she thought was an Elvis museum, but was actually the 24 Hour Church of Elvis.  After seeing the “exhibit” (which took about 4 minutes), she wandered down the street for some sipping chocolate at Cacao, which got her sipping-chocolate-obsessed-self’s seal of approval.

The four of us reunited near Cacao.  The boys headed to an arcade, I called my mom and Barrie took a nap in the car.

I shouldn’t make fun.  I was asleep in the front seat 20 minutes after I took this picture.

• For dinner, we went to Mother’s Bistro and Bar, where we ate the best effing biscuits in the history of the world.  Our friend Brooke first raved about these biscuits a year ago, and she is totally right about them.  They are like giant clouds of butter with a little flour thrown in for good measure.  You throw some strawberry freezer jam on these babies and you basically have the best strawberry shortcake ever- and all this before you even start dinner.  (Note: Mother’s has a cookbook coming out next month.  I can’t bake, but if there is a biscuit recipe in there and you promise to make them for me, I will preorder this book for you today.)
• The next day, after another breakfast lovingly prepared by Millie, we set out to do what we came to Portland for in the first place- run an 8k.  You may have seen my earlier posts about other races I’ve run, but this one was a bit different- there were only about 20 participants.  Maybe.  We actually drove past the race once because we thought it was a family setting up for their kid’s birthday party- it was that small.  However, we did discover that really tiny races have one distinct advantage- it makes it a LOT easier to win.

Barrie and Dominic rocked it out and both won blue ribbons for their age groups.  Go team winner!

Um, I was still feeling kind of crappy thanks to last week’s brush with the swine flu combined with 45 degree weather that morning, so I stopped running after mile 3.  Miles walked the rest of the race with me because he hadn’t actually trained at all.  We were not winners.  (Technically Miles still got a ribbon because he was the only guy in his age range.  I think I was the only person in the entire race to not win a ribbon at all- I like to think that this was a victory in it’s own way.)

I DO think I had the best hat there though.

• Post race, we decided to reward ourselves with brunch at Kenny and Zuke’s.

Barrie feasted on a TONGUE sandwich.  When she showed me the gigantic tastebud in her sandwich, I finally remembered to document a meal.

Barrie nearly peed with joy when she saw that they had Celery soda on the menu- evidently, nothing compliments tongue like celery-flavored soda.  I don’t get it, but it made her incredibly happy.

Finally, Miles couldn’t decide whether he wanted to go the savory or sweet route, so he did what any real man would do- he ordered both.  Pastrami Eggs Benedict AND Berry Blintzes.  Impressive.  (Can you tell that Miles likes food?  I cannot wait to introduce him to Scott next weekend!)

• After brunch, it was time to head home.  But we had one more VERY CRUCIAL stop to make before we called the weekend a true success.

Dave’s Killer Bread IS the greatest effing bread in the history of the world, and the factory is located right outside of Portland.  Once we found out that you can buy day-old bread at half price (each loaf usually runs almost $6!), we knew we had to make a pit stop.

Dave wasn’t actually there that day, so we had to settle for a cardboard version.

So that was Portland.  I hope that this keeps you entertained for a few days, because tomorrow at midnight Mike and I are heading out for 5 days in Tulum, Mexico.  90 degree weather, sun, ocean and margaritas- here we come!  I’m so excited to go on a real vacation that I won’t even complain when Mike orders his margaritas blended.  Cheers!

Mike dedicated the weekend to working- save for a brief break to go see Zombieland, which he loved, he spent the entire weekend revamping his portfolio site.  He’s a good worker.  In an effort to be a supportive wife, I spent the weekend in Portland- you know, to better stay out of his hair and let him work.

I had actually planned this several weeks ago- Barrie, Dominic and our friend Miles had all signed up for a 5 mile race in Vancouver, WA, which is right outside of Portland, OR.  Barrie, ever the planner, not only found the race, but also discovered what was described online as a “quaint, affordable bed and breakfast” where we could spend the weekend.  We were all excited about what promised to be a relaxing weekend with good friends a healthy dose of sightseeing and exercise.

Well, we were all a little confused when we actually arrived at our destination.

The aesthetic was a bit more “my parents’ house in the suburbs” than “weekend getaway.”  We were confused.  None of us had ever seen a suburban bed and breakfast.

the not-so-countryside

We figured that the inside would be strikingly different.  And then we went inside.

our room

Have YOU ever payed money to stay at your grandma’s house?  Now Barrie, Dominic, Miles and I can say that we have.

Millie, the inkeeper, obviously has a real eye for interior decorating.

Do you LOVE the wall hanging?  Every time I looked at it, I had to try really hard not to make this face:

Of course, our stay included a homemade breakfast each morning!  Millie put on quite a spread.

On Saturday morning she made us apple pancakes, blueberry soup (shown) and ham.  On Sunday, to fuel us for the race, we dined on a homemade quiche and a fruit pizza.  Even the food was grandma-tastic!

Sadly, I only got one picture of our hostess, and it’s crazy blurry.  But I feel like this post would be tragically lacking if I didn’t show it anyway- plus, it’s not like anybody who reads this expects decent photography from me:

This post isn’t very wordy, partially because I’m exhausted from the weekend and want to go to sleep, and partially because there simply are no words to describe the magic that was Millie.  If you are ever visiting Portland and want to REALLY feel like you are at home- or at least your grandma’s home- definitely check out The Hostess House.  It set the mood for our entire weekend.

Coming up: fish sauce chicken wings, The 24-hour Church of Elvis, Miles’ gluttony, cow tongues and what it feels like to be the only person who didn’t win a ribbon.

The weekend started out swell.

I woke up Saturday morning expecting rain, but was very happy to see it clear up just in time to go meet my friend Miles for breakfast at 35th Street Bistro and a bike ride.  Yay clear weather!

Miles tried to avoid being photographed, but I didn’t let that happen.

Breakfast started with tiny muffins.  All things tiny make me happy.  This will be a recurring theme in this post.

The food was very good- good enough to make up for the slightly snooty service.  This was the big winner of the meal- they called it a flambe, but let’s be honest.  It’s a tortilla (good), with lardons (very good), potatoes & carmelized onions (carbs on carbs = extra good), a fried egg (super good) and a side of olives (mega good.  all food should include olives.)  We split this and were very happy campers.

Then, because we had to work off said lardons, we hopped on our bikes and went for a ride.

Miles is a superstar rider who is doing a 150 mile ride for MS next weekend.  I am a mediocre rider whose front wheel is so bent that the local bike shop told me it would be a waste of time to try and true it.  But Miles didn’t seem to be too annoyed by my lack of power and we made decent time.  We stopped at Matthews Beach so I could pee.

There I saw this sign, which nicely sums up proper swimming ettiquette:

The fact that they even have to include a “no communicable diseases” rule makes me NEVER want to go in that water.  EVER.

Even though we had just finished a 20 mile or so ride, I was still able to ride all the way up our bitch of a hill on the way back!  Yay strong quads!  (Clarification: I rode up the slightly pussier 3rd street side of Queen Anne, not the uber-steep Queen Anne hill itself.  That’s next year’s goal.)

After I got back, I went and got my much needed haircut with Shaun at Intermezzo Salon.  I totally loved him.  I no longer look like a frog!  Unfortunately, I forgot to take a picture until it was already dark and we were at the airport.  Here is the shit-tastic picture though for you to laugh at:

Nothing revolutionary, but i feel a lot cleaner.  I’ll go back to get my color futzed with in a couple of weeks.  Suggestions, as always, are welcome.

We spent the rest of the weekend with Mike’s dad, who flew up to visit us.  But, dear readers, these adventures deserve a post of their own, so you’ll have to hold on for that.  I will, however, leave you with pictures of carrots that made me giggle when I got them in my CSA bin.

Carrots in love:

And the consequences of their illicit carrot love:

Those are cherry tomatoes!  The baby carrot was soooooo tiny.  I squealed.

Miles, bike ride, lardons, haircut and lustful carrots summarized the high points of my weekend.

Rarely does an activity come along that unites Mike and I.  We occasionally bike together, but he spends half his time chiding me for being too slow.  He won’t run with me because he thinks running is inefficient and kind of insulting to whoever invented the wheel.  And he’s not the only guilty party- you don’t see me exactly jumping up and down to spend a Saturday at a car meet-up or begging to spend the afternoon window-shopping for Ducatis.  But yesterday, we finally found something that we could do together.

Well, kind of.

Yesterday we competed in the Great Urban Race, a giant scavenger hunt where teams traverse the entire city, only using foot and bus transportation, to complete 12 tasks as quickly as possible.  Of course, as you can see by our bibs (and our not-so-identical outfits), we competed on opposite teams.

Barrie and I teamed up and set out to wear matching retro aerobics outfits, but because we’re cheap, just ended up wearing really bright, semi-slutty outfits instead.  Eh, you could still tell we were a team.

Mike teamed up with our friend Miles.  They eschewed the matching outfits and just wore the race T-shirts instead.  But, as Mike pointed out, they still matched better than us.  Bite me.

Our friend Rita came and hung out with us before the race started and took good pictures.

One day, Rita will have a photo blog and make me happy because she’s so freaking talented.

While we were waiting around, Rita noticed that Mike had stolen a pair of my socks and quickly became enthralled.

Occasionally I am reminded of why I love my husband.

As soon as there were hints of looming physical activity, Rita took off and the race began.

While we had talked a lot of trash pre-race, the four of us decided to primarily work together once we set off.  Barrie immediately started running, and Mike immediately started regretting that decision.

Several of the clues required photo evidence.  Here are some of my favorites.

We had to take a picture with a street performer where everybody was flashing a peace sign.  This guy was a TOTAL crackhead, but we did have to give him props for being smart enough to stand right at a bus stop that lots of racers were using.  Yay smart crackhead!

We were running toward another landmark when we saw a bunch of other teams taking pictures in front of this sculpture.  We had no idea what clue it related to, but we figured we should stop and take a picture anyway.  2 hours later I figured out a clue that was in cryptogram form and it turned out that it was talking about this sculpture.  Score!

One of the clues required you to find a cookie store and take a picture feeding each other a cookie.  Mike called this “the most uncomfortable experience of [his] life.”  I think that is obvious in the picture.

Another clue made you find the Maximus/Minimus truck (a pig-shaped trailer that travels the city selling pulled pork sandwiches) and take a picture with both team members jumping in front of it.  I really don’t know what part of this picture I like the best- Mike’s face, the fact that he is using the sign to help him up, or the guy in the background.  All in all, it’s a total WIN in a the sense that it’s a total FAIL.

So who won?  Well, at the heart of the matter, it was a tie.  The four of us worked together to solve clues and help each other along the way- we finished in 2 hours, 25 minutes.  TECHNICALLY, the boys won because they were total bastards and sprinted ahead at the very last moment.  I had pictured that the four of us would finish together, holding hands in unison, but obviously not everybody is as good a person as me.  Oh well, when they are both sizzling in hell and I’m looking down on them playing the harp and looking smug, they’ll be sorry.

All in all, it was a very good day.