Posts for August, 2011
August 11, 2011
Sometimes, you’re sitting in your kitchen, reading Saveur and seeing how many malt balls you can hide in your chub rolls, wondering if you really should have eaten those last six carne asada tacos and contemplating becoming a healthier person, maybe going on the Kumquat Diet or becoming a Juice Fast Coach and then Ping! An invite to a scoop shop preview party arrives in your inbox.
And suddenly you’re on your feet and leaving a trail of malt balls in your wake all the way to Alberta Street, where Salt & Straw has just thrown open the doors of their brand new ice cream shop and beaming super scoopers are asking you what you want off the menu. Anything! Everything! Whatever you want! It’s all yours! And your inner five-year-old self faints dead away and your chub rolls are rippling ecstatically and high fiving each other and you wanna shoop scoop ba-doop, scoop ba-doop, scoop ba-doop ba-doop ba-doop.
Today was one of those days.
August 10, 2011
Under The Table Special Correspondent Lucy here. Dog about town that I am, you’ve undoubtedly seen me strolling around Portland sticking my nose into various things of interest–my trash can, your trash can, my dinner, your dinner, my crotch, your crotch. That’s how I roll.
Not to boast, but I live a pretty easy life–I’m beautiful, so people give me pretty much everything I want, and I’m a dog, so it’s humanity’s responsibility to cater to my every whim, by taking me to the park, throwing my gooey ball repeatedly even though they’re clearly sick of doing so, scratching my belly, filling my food bowl, leaving the toilet seat up, etc.
But my world of unfettered pleasure was turned upside down last night. It started out innocently enough. My Guardian Mette took me to the park after her “job,” whatever that is, and then she let me run around the back yard sniffing beetles until her friend Jen, the one who always smells like chocolate, came over for “Girls’ Night,” whatever that is–from what I can tell it’s just an excuse to watch The Bachelor Pad instead of taking me to the park again. What-ever. Read full story »
August 8, 2011
Walking into new Three Pigs, it didn’t take long to find this diminutive deli’s namesakes–one pig was lying in the breakfast sandwich, one pig was floating in the soup, and one pig was tumbled up in a meatball. And they were all delicious.
August 2, 2011
I remember the first time I choked down a swig of Mad Dog like it was yesterday. It was a hot, still summer night in Ontario, Oregon, I was on my friend Tina’s pheasant farm holed up in a stifling barn with the merry band of miscreants we’d just finished dragging Main Street with, and I was being earnestly wooed by a guy named Nacho. Considering how we all felt the next morning, I thought I’d never see the business end of a MD 20/20 bottle until I was reincarnated as a cast member of a revived My Name is Earl. And then, one fateful evening last week, I walked into Metrovino. Read full story »