Category — Portland

I’ve taught myself a number of things over the years:  guitar, Microsoft Access, html.  Right now I’m learning how to meditate.

Every day I try to take some time with my dog Libby and we sit in the park in our neighborhood.

This is the view from the bench we sit in.  Meditation has a steep learning-curve for me, but ‘m willing to give it time.

Today, on our way to the park, we happened upon the evidence of someone else’s self-training.

These books were scattered next to the sidewalk.  It’s so awesome I had to go back to get my camera…

Along with the “Teach Yourself to Play Guitar” book was another gem:

Yeah, that’s how enlightened I am.  I had to walk back to the house to get the camera to take a picture of the word “orgasm.”

You see what I mean about a steep learning-curve.  I think maybe I should try a little harder with the meditation.

I walk past a number of things every morning on the way from the lot where I park my Prius to the cube where I park myself.

I walk past folks witout homes, past a garden someone has created on the side of the freeway…and this.  (Avert your eyes, Mom.)

Yes, evidently I’ve been walking past this twice a day for quite some time.  I have a vague notion that I’ve seen it before, but this week it caught my eye for real.  So I thought I’d share.

Yeah, that’s what it says alright.

Well, we all do our part.

Portland’s cool.  It really is.  Sometimes I forget, and I am reminded forcefully by my friends who take it as a personal insult – defending the awesomeness of Portland like it’s a family member.

Today, walking back from an excellent breakfast at the waffle cart (cool), I noticed that one of the homeowners along the way had converted their little garage into an artist’s studio in the Mississippi arts district (super cool).

When I walked over to snap a picture, I noticed a bike bell – hanging from the mirror of a van parked in front of the studio (the coolest).

It pretty much broke my cool meter.

On the train from Florence to Castelnuovo, we met a very nice man.  He was a banker around the age of 35, impeccably dressed, and speaking perfect English (of course).

My dad, who makes friends with everyone struck up a conversation with him.  When he learned that we were Americans, the very first thing he said was,

“You are very thin for Americans.”

Awesome.

This wasn’t the only time I heard this, but it was the first.  He went on to share with my dad his theory of why it is Americans are overweight.  “I think you eat too many sauces.”

Fair point.  However, when I stopped into a gelato shop in Portland today, I developed another theory.  In Italy, one scoop of gelato is the size of a walnut.  In Portland, one scoop is the size of my fist.  This was not what I expected when I ordered two flavors.

Here’s a tip:  If the ice cream comes in smaller portions, you can try more flavors without giving yourself diabetes.

I’m thinking it’s not the sauces.

Portland is a great food town.  It’s a foodie paradise.  The best part of this, to me, is where the awesome food spills over into the streets.

Portland is a great food-cart town.

I eat at the Bombay Chaat House probably 3-4 times a week (each meal lasts two days).  I think it’s the best Indian food in town.  For the past six months or so, my Sunday ritual has included a trip to the two waffle cart locations in North Portland known as FLAVOUR spot.

This morning’s trip was with my ex-gf/roommate/best friend (don’t you love lesbians) Leigh, and my dog Libby.

These waffles are so powerful that the promise of a “maple pecan” waffle can rouse me from a dead sleep to fully dressed and hair done in about 5 minutes.

This morning there was no line, and we picked out a primo picnic table in the converted parking lot that houses the cart on Missisisppi Ave.

I’ve tried to capture the gooey, delicious nature of the waffle here for those who have never experienced it.

That’s maple butter and pecans folded lovingly into a fresh waffle.  Today’s special waffle was fresh strawberries, whipped cream and nutella.  Woah.

You come to Portland, you go to Flavour Spot.  Ya dig?