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.

Another Big Breakfast

For the past two nights, Jesse has forgotten to turn off the alarm on his Blackberry from traveling. This morning we were jolted awake by the regular clock alarm in stereo with the Blackberry alarm. Under normal circumstances, I think I would have just rolled over and gone back to sleep, but I was insanely thirsty -- too much Simpler Times last night, I think. I rolled around a bit, but was unable to relax, so I got up and downed a glass of cold, refreshing water. Then, I was officially awake. At 6:30am. Before the sun.

I surfed the internet for about 20 minutes and my stomach started to growl. So, I got up and decided to try and replicate that delicious breakfast special that I had in Los Angeles with Sharon (a quesadilla with carnitas, sauteed apples, and jack cheese). I cubed a couple of apples and sauteed them in a bit of butter until they were nice and soft with a light caramelized crust. I then pulled out the small bit of carnitas left over from last night's taco fest, and sauteed it with olive oil, dried chilies (not too hot) and a dash of Cholula for good measure. The hot pan revived the pork and gave it nice crispy edges. MMM. We paired the quesadilla with cilantro scrambled eggs for a complete breakfast feast. What a great way to start a Friday!

I feel like carnitas can make anyone seem like a rock star in the kitchen. I should don this t-shirt that I won this past Monday at the Hold Steady concert in honor of this kick-ass breakfast. In all honesty, I left before the first Hold Steady song was even finished (they were just too loud). Now that I think about it, the fact that I left should probably bar me from wearing the shirt, because I am just not worthy. Whatever, I rock at other things. I can live with that.

Speaking of rocking, even if you don't want to read all about the Hold Steady at the Crystal Ballroom, you should check out Quickcrit's face lift. It's still a work in progress, but it's 100 times better looking than before. Oh, and if you're checking out the web page with Internet Explorer, you'll miss out on the great new banner that Jesse and I designed. Sorry, it's an annoying Blogger tick that I have yet to resolve. DO YOU HEAR ME BLOGGER? GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER! Anyway, maybe it's just a sign that now's a good time to go ahead and download Firefox -- it's a much better browser anyway.

Revisions

This week has been all about work, leaving very little time for blogging. Today is also all about work, but this time making revisions. I hate revisions, so the afternoon will most likely be very painful. Also, today is the last day of enjoying chicken purloo for breakfast. As of a few minutes ago, I lifted my last bite. (What? I'm sure lots of other people enjoy delicious chicken and rice for breakfast. I don't care what you think! It's good.)

In order to psych myself up for the grueling tasks ahead, I watched a video clip that I took last week at a concert. Several times. At this particular concert we stood next to a guy who looked a bit like Ghallager. I giggled to myself at the thought of him whipping out a watermelon from his coat and smashing it right in the audience. You only get a couple of peeks of him totally rocking out, but the song is good, so enjoy.

(For those who are impatient, I capture his enthusiastic air drums around 0:02, 1:01, and 1:40. There's sound, so you might want to mute your speakers if you're at work.) Yes, I realize that it is sideways. I finally figured out how to rotate the video and can now watch it normally on my computer. However, Blogger keeps loading it in the original format (and taking it's sweet old time about it too), causing smoke to come out of my ears.

YOU WIN AGAIN BLOGGER. Thank you for making my life suck this morning.

***UPDATE*** 3:15 PM

I figured it out, behold the edited video:

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.

Lazy Day

The past couple of days have been mostly grey with sporadic rain and patches of sun. I have to say, the clouds have been a welcome relief from the heat we experienced in early September and somehow the rain seems cleansing. We have continued to organize and rearrange the apartment and are thoroughly enjoying our living room area.

On Tuesday, Jesse and I both had job interviews. Mine was more of a meet and greet over lunch and Jesse's was an interview for a job that doesn't exist yet, but might someday. Oddly enough, we were making contact with people from the same company. I had a really nice lunch with two people from an environmental company here in Portland. It was nice to meet professionals who are immersed in things that I enjoy and have lived in the city for quite a while. They were both very helpful on the job front, even though they don't have full time positions to offer right now, as well as sites to visit and things to do in the city. It is likely that they will throw some consulting work my way in the next few months (if I'm not already gainfully employed).

Last night we went to a Ron Sexsmith concert at Doug Fir and got home way past our bedtime (after 1am)! The concert was awesome and I have to now get the motivation to write a review on Quickcrit. The sun came up way too early for both of us this morning and I have to say that both Jesse and I have been dragging around most of the day.

I did, however, manage manage to spend an inordinate amount of time applying for an internship (of all things) with the city of Portland in their planning department. The position was forwarded to me by the senior associate at the architecture firm that I will be working as a contractor for later on this month. The internship work is not earth shattering, which means I'll probably rock at it, but I see it as a way to potentially make more contacts in the preservation community and possibly talk to some of the planning offices about how Oregon's (and Portland's) preservation policies suck. The more I read, the more I realize that there is very little regulation or oversight when it comes to historic resources -- their last comprehensive survey of the city was conducted in 1980!

Oh and tonight I made a killer eggplant parmesan with a recipe from The New Best Recipe from Cook's Illustrated. This cookbook never lets me down. Both Jesse and I were totally blown away by the deliciousness of the dish (accompanied by an arugula salad with almonds and dried cranberries). Of course, I forgot to take a photo so you'll just have trust me. I'm so excited for leftovers tomorrow!