Date Night Resurrected

My mom was in town last week to lend a hand with Miles while Jesse had a business trip to DC. On Friday night, she offered to spend some quality time with her grandson (we really had to twist her arm) so Jesse and I could spend a couple of hours alone. We chose to dust off our date night tradition and headed out to Cascade Brewing Barrel House on Belmont Street. 

Cascade specializes in sour beers, which is a welcome variation in my opinion to the sometimes overly "hoppy" northwest brews. I am partial to more complex Belgian style beers, especially those that are spiced and dark. My first sour beer was in the form of a rather popular cherry lambic a few years ago -- a starter variety for sour beer drinkers or lambic with training wheels. Two years ago at the Cheers to Belgian Beers festival here in Portland, we sampled a local sour that was pretty awesome. In preparation for our trip to Belgium and Germany last fall, we decided to do our own sampling of Belgian varieties of lambics. We determined that some were very much an acquired taste -- with flavor descriptions that included "horse blanket" -- and others were rather delightful.

I was excited that Cascade Brewing managed to stay on the delightful and complex spectrum of sour beers and provided a spectacular evening of beer sampling. We started off with a glass of their special Cherry Bourbon Double Red and a glass of Bourbonic Plague. According to their menu:

Cherry Bourbon Double Red (11% abv) is a sour double red aged in Maker's Mark oak barrels for 9 months. The beer is then aged with sour pie cherries, fresh sour pie base and bourbacide. The result was a wonderfully tangy beer that had hints of bourbon. I was amazed at how much you could really taste the cherries. This was one of our favorites of the evening.  

The Bourbonic Plague (12% abv) is aged for 14 months and consists of strong dark porters aged in oak wine and bourbon barrels that is blended with dark porter that was brewed with cinnamon and vanilla. This is probably one of the best beers that I've tasted in a very long time. Its flavor was complex, slightly sour, and full-bodied, but not heavy. I was skeptical about ordering a 12% abv beer, because in Belgium that was almost a guarantee that you'd get a syrupy heavy concoction. This beer was exactly the opposite. Seriously, you have to try the Bourbonic Plague.

We also sampled Cascade's Bourbon Gold Yeller II (in photo on the right), and the '09 Beck Berry. The Beck Berry was outstanding (pictured on the left), but the Gold Yeller II just didn't stand up to the Bourbonic Plague, Cherry Bourbon Double Red -- I wish it had been one of our first sips rather than our last. We took home a bottle of the Bourbonic Plague to enjoy sometime in the near future, since I'm not sure when we'll get out there again in the next few months. However, I can't wait until our next visit so we can try more of the many beers on tap!

Work for Beer

Last night, Jesse and I rode our bikes over to the east side to see a band that I like play at a local bar. We arrived pretty early, so we stopped at a Cuban restaurant, Pambiche, for happy hour. I had every intention of just getting a drink, but when we looked at the menu (with their Cuban Creole fare) we decided to make that stop dinner. The happy hour menu consisted of small plates ranging between $2-4 and they were delicious! I'm still kicking myself for forgetting my camera at home. (The photo above is just a random shot from Google images. We didn't actually get the empanadas, but you get the point. It was delicious.)

We shared a plate of codfish and potato croquetas, black-eyed peas frituras (sort of fritter-like), fried plantains, Masitas (pork with garlic sauce), and Cuban pepper stew. Everything was really tasty, but my favorite was the Masitas. It was slow-cooked pork that was cut into large pieces and then battered and pan fried with the garlic mojo sauce on top. Seriously, out of this world! I washed it all down with a fresh pineapple juice mimosa. We're definitely going back soon! Actually, I'm dying to try out their breakfast menu, so the next person to come visit us here in Portland might get the pleasure of sampling the Cuban steak and eggs.

We enjoyed happy hour so much that we arrived a little late to get a seat at the bar. Actually, the place seemed no bigger than our apartment and I felt pretty boxed-in. So, we hopped on our bikes to ride out to Mississippi Avenue for another free concert (I know, only in Portland). We cruised through several NE neighborhoods that I hadn't seen before, so it was a great (impromptu) search for new places to live. Hockey, played a great, if not a little short, show. I feel like I worked for my happy hour beverages last night. As we rode home, the sun was going down** and we stopped on the Broadway Bridge to admire the view. Jesse looked out over the river and repeated over and over, "this is our home, we're not just visiting." I agree. It's pretty awesome.

Date night has been officially resurrected after long winter hiatus. Now that the weather is turning for the better, I think we're going to schedule regular date nights again, but with destinations that force us to ride to new places.

**Don't worry Mom(s). We have blinky lights on the front and back.

Friday Night, or Why I Am Not Hip Part 2

We hopped on the #20 bus to Doug Fir on Friday night and were chatting about the concert and our dinner and how sweet it was to get out for an evening. We sat in two empty seats near the back of the bus, right behind a plastic partition that separates the lower level and the stairs. Unbeknownst to me, my feet were wreaking havoc on a young man's soul as we enjoyed our ride down Burnside. Just as we crossed the bridge he ripped off his headphones (that were blaring music) and yelled at Jesse to stop kicking partition because he could feel every kick on his body and it was driving him "batshit crazy" (I think he threw in a fuck or two for good measure).

Ok, first, Jesse wasn't kicking the partition, I was -- the space was tight and I guess I was shuffling my feet around. Secondly, the jerk-face was leaning on the partition and lounging over four seats like a couch, so if he sat properly in his chair this wouldn't have been a problem. Finally, there was a bus full of empty seats that he could have moved to, but instead chose to yell at a perfect stranger. I didn't say anything, and neither did Jesse, because clearly he was crazy. However, I couldn't help tormenting him just a little for being such a little shit. We only had about four stops to go, so intermittently I would kick the partition really hard and would see his shoulders tense up. Then, as we neared our bus stop and stood up to leave, I made sure to do a drum roll with my feet. I know, I'm also a jerk, but it was fun.

As I mentioned earlier, my concert at Doug Fir was sold out so we walked over to the East End determined to have a fun night out. People watching was an experience. There were quite a few more dudes than ladies at the East End and they were all dolled up in their Friday night best. Clearly, I am no fashion expert when it comes to what the cool kids are wearing these days and was puzzled to find a surprising number of men walking around dressed as early 19th Century country gentry. If you swapped out the breeches for a pair of insanely form-fitting black jeans (tight to the point of possibly having to grease their ankles to slide them on) and cut off the tails on their waist coat this figure would be just about right. As a form of entertainment (for myself), I started imagining which A&E miniseries they would be most suited for, if I had full control of casting.

Most of the characters were not dashing like Matthew Macfayden as Mr. Darcy, but were more along the lines of A&E's version of Mr. Knightley -- complete with awful hat hair, but lacking the top hat as an excuse. I was pleasantly surprised when the lead singer of the second band turned out to be the guy I pointed out as Mr. Willoughby (good looking, but a bit of a cad) from Sense and Sensibility. I have no idea what he's like in real life, but in my East End narrative, he definitely will jilt Marianne (dancing seductively in front of the crowd) for a chick with a giant yearly allowance.

Since I am an old lady, around 12:30 I was ready to go home, but needed swing by the restroom before our bus ride back to the northwest. The line was insanely long and I found myself standing behind another "man of leisure" who was a dead ringer for Mr. Collins (the buffoonish clergyman from Pride and Prejudice). I think he caught me staring at him and he asked me if it was normal for four women to go to the bathroom at a time. This was as we watched a second group of ladies exit together from the single-toilet restroom. I shrugged my shoulders and told him that sometimes it helps to hold hands while you pee. He nodded his head (in earnest) and stroked an errant hair from my face. Really. He touched my hair. Mr. Collins then asked how I kept it so straight and shiny and complained about the little curls that were springing up around his ears from the humidity. I told him Static Guard. He adjusted his (popped) collar and seemed indignant about his styling product that cost a fortune, made his hair look unwashed, and yet would still not contain his boyish curls. I told him his curls were charming and he let me cut him in line for the bathroom.

Maybe Mr. Collins isn't such a boor after all. Weird, yes, but a perfect gentleman.

Friday Date Night or, Why I Am Not Hip Part 1

This was an awesome Friday. We had delicious food, good drinks, and great entertainment. I have to say that this may have been one of the better evenings that we've spent in Portland so far. Jesse and I made a pizza that was surprisingly good. We had drinks that were delicious. And we went to a concert that was sold out, but ended up at another concert that was pretty cool.

Despite how awesome I think that I am at home, tonight's concert venue solidified that a) I am old b) I am totally not hip and c) if given enough bourbon I can envision a rich fantasy world that nullifies both (a) and (b). But first, the part where I am a rockstar and my husband is a total dork -- in our own apartment making dinner.

I made the pizza dough earlier in the day and Jesse helped out by chopping onions, mushrooms, and olives for the topping. He then proceeded to make a killer pizza sauce while I figured out the Portland bus schedules (to get to our initial concert). His chopping technique is only intensified by his sense of style in the kitchen. Not a tear was shed over onions this Friday night.

In D.C., we often held true to our "pizza Friday" tradition by cutting out of work a little early and getting the happy hour special at Duccinis. Since we have yet to find such a deal in Portland, we decided to take a stab at our own version at home. Miraculously, the pizza dough turned out really well and I can't imagine a more fabulous tasting alternative. In fact, we have plenty left over for breakfast tomorrow. Both Jesse and I can't wait to go to bed so morning will come that much faster!

After dinner, Jesse prepared a little treat to keep us going through the concert -- two glasses of "Cunningham's London Fog." It consists of really strong coffee, bourbon and vanilla ice cream. Once given a half-hearted stir, it turns into a delicious, creamy treat. As we enjoyed our pre-concert beverages, we talked about the day and how I managed to convince Jesse into escorting me to an all-woman-singer concert.

Then, the night took a turn. We arrived at the Doug Fir to a sold out concert -- MY all-woman-singer concert. So, we walked down the street and ended up at the East End to see a band that Nightrain recommended earlier in the week. We headed to the bar, grabbed our drinks, and retired on a couch to people watch. It was at that point that I realized how much I missed in D.C. (in terms of the 'eclectic' hipster youth) and how un-hip I really am.

Look, I acknowledge the fact that I am an old man at heart, but seriously, I was out of my league this evening. I didn't have the right (Daniel Vosovic) hair cut, my jeans were not nearly tight enough (or awkwardly hung on my butt), I lacked a studded (and/or giant white) belt to hold up my non-tight/awkwardly fitting pants. Oh also, my face was not pouty, my feet didn't turn inward when I danced, my shoes weren't flat enough, and I was missing a bracelet (or fifteen) on my arms. Don't get me wrong, Daniel Vosovic rocks the coif, but it's not for everyone. And I do mean EVERYONE.

So, that concludes why Brasilliant is not hip Part 1. Stay tuned for Part 2, which includes: provoking a jerk-face on the #20 Trimet bus (in my own passive aggressive way), my comparative (and pictorial) analysis on hipster style and Jane Austen characters, and a colorful conversation from the bathroom queue.

Goodnight. And Happy Friday.

Friday Date Night with a Special Guest, Carrots

For some reason, the last time I went to the grocery store I decided it would be a good idea to buy five pounds of carrots. Hey, it was a cold day and I had soup on the brain. When I made chicken noodle soup and saw that my carrot use barely made a dent in the gigantic bag, I knew something had to be done.

So, last night instead of leftovers, I decided to browse Epicurious.com to see if I could find a creative use for carrots. That's when I stumbled on the Szechwan Carrot Soup. It sounded interesting, but a little scary. The soup contained lots of carrots and very little of anything else. Jesse was even a bit skeptical when I told him what would be served for dinner. Basically, you brown onions celery, and garlic, drop in a boat-load of carrots and a little fresh ginger, some red pepper flakes, and then cook the carrot concoction in chicken or veggie broth until everything is nice and tender. I blended it with my handy immersion blender and then stirred in the final key ingredients -- a little peanut butter, sesame oil, soy sauce, and a touch of cream. I have to say, it was quite tasty. We sprinkled on some cut scallions and toasted almonds. Yum!

I rounded out the evening with a batch of carrot cake cupcakes. I found out that I didn't have cupcake liners way after it was too late, but they popped right out anyway. Look how evenly they baked and how beautifully uniform they are! Usually one half is flat and the other is burnt. Oh how I love you new giant electric oven!

But enough about my oven, what does the true critic think?

Hands down, carrots rock.

Friday Date Day/Night

Today we have three things to accomplish:

1) Obtain an Oregon drivers license. The DMV opens at 8am downtown and I plan on arriving with my proof age/ birth/ residence/ citizenship/ bra size/ blood type/ shoe size. I'd say that I would ride my bike (like a true blue Portlander), but that would ruin my hair and force me to have a hideous ID photo for the next 5-8 years. We'll take care of the license plates and car registration another day. I can only handle one transaction at the DMV at a time.

2) Register to vote. No, we haven't done that yet, but don't worry, the deadline isn't until October 14th. We're way ahead of schedule. Since I've been thinking about volunteering to register young voters in Portland, I think it would be a little weird if I weren't already registered myself. This will be the second Presidential election that I volunteer to help with voter registration and voter awareness...let's hope this time my efforts pay off.

3) Attend a debate watching party at the Roots Organic Brewing Company. Even though I've already determined my candidate of choice, I feel it's my patriotic duty to hear what they both have to say. Oh, and to heartily poke fun at my foe (should he choose to show up). Also, we really haven't made many friends yet, so what better way than to convene with people who love beer and my candidate of choice?!

Of course there are several boxes that still need to be unpacked and a ton of cardboard that needs to be taken down to the recycling bin. I'm sure we'll try and fit them in between our very patriotic duties tomorrow.

Scenes from A Date Night

This past Friday (date night) was spent with a few of Jesse's coworkers at a going away celebration for one of his colleagues. The restaurant was nice, but the scene was weird with odd tension between some of the people there. It seems like a developing pattern with AED, always ruining my date nights! As a result, I can honestly say that losing contact with a majority of them would not be a terrible thing. I was glad when we bowed out early to watch an episode of Northern Exposure.

Last Friday's date was a lot more fun and started a few hours early to catch the Euro Cup game between the Netherlands and France. The soccer game was pretty exciting and left us feeling energized enough to walk out in the blazing heat to pick up our olive and pepperoni pizza.

Once our bellies were full, I convinced Jesse that a proper game-filled date night should not only include watching games, but playing games too. He suggested a full-on Yahtzee tournament, but I countered with a friendly game of Trivial Pursuit. In a moment of weakness, he agreed. Anyone who has ever played Trivial Pursuit knows that it can literally go on for ages. Being the enthusiast that I am, I refuse to let go until someone at least has all the colors in their wheel. Unfortunately, I am the worst at the Sports and Leisure category, so after filling up all of my colors, I was stuck with no hope for ever winning that final green wedge. By the time we neared the end, Jesse couldn't even hold his head up to read the questions.

I think I'll have to wait a while to get my fill of trivia again, but it was fun while it lasted. I don't think there will be many more leisurely date nights for a while, given that July's weekends are booked solid. That leaves us with Friday nights to get some serious packing and cleaning done. Yikes! Is it really almost July?!

Indeed it is. Only 39 more days to go!