Days 197 to 199 - Portland’s Dark Secret Unveiled

Author - Grant

Based In - Portland, Oregan

Photos - http://www.flickr.com/photos/32017704@N03/sets/72157618350619875/

We spent a total of four nights in Portland and (to completely plagiarize someone else joke) like one hit wonder Natalie Imbruglia, I’m torn.  On one hand, it definitely has more plus points than your average city but it has exactly three big negatives that put me off wanting to live here.  As such, I’m putting Portland in the same category as Lisa “the bike” Hughes from my High School - thrilling to occasionally visit but not somewhere I’d want to spend too much time in.

Let’s start off with the positives...and the first one is a monster.  In fact it’s such a big tick that it almost overrides all of the negatives on its own.  It is, of course, beer.  Apparently Portland has more micro-breweries per square mile than anywhere else on the planet (a fact I overheard somewhere and cannot back up but it sounds both impressive and correct) which has spawned the rise of the brew-pub.  Considering that Kate isn’t drinking, bless her for enduring more than a handful of these dens and, more importantly, of volunteering for designated driver duty.  It might sound harsh that I haven’t given up alcohol to show her support but I have given up caffeine which is harder than it sounds in a country that runs on java.  Anyway, back to the brew pubs.  Obviously each place has its own identity but they do have a few traits in common such as minimal decor, dog-friendly outside tables, a basic and limited food menu and a line-up of superstar beers that rarely contain less than 6% alc by volume and almost always taste like what I imagine is served in the bar in Heaven.  It’s going to be almost impossible to return to drinking the regular piss churned out by the big breweries after this mini Oktoberfest but it does prove that America makes some fine artisanal beers that can more than adequately indulge my IPA habit.  But more than just the quality, it’s the culture that goes along with it.  It’s a sad reflection on my weakness but one of the biggest things I miss about the UK is the drinking culture and so it brings a smile to my face and warmth to the cockles of my heart to see big tables of friends sat around in the middle of the afternoon necking fine ales, laughing heartily and smoking like they still haven’t figured out they’re kind of bad for you.

Next on the plus list is the grub as every category of food we have partaken in was top drawer (excluding the McDonalds which we’ll chalk up to a pregnancy craving).  From the fresher than fresh Voodoo Donuts (covered in the last blog) through a plain old panini at J’s Cafe (served with an abundance of style, love, originality and kettle crisps) to simple brew-house snack plates (such as the garlicy humous in the Lucky Labrador served with a loaf of fresh, crusty bread) and full blown meals...we’ve been a bit spoiled.  The creme de la creme, however, came on the last night thanks again to a tip from 17’ 3’’ Brooklyn Mike.  Like a troll that at first appears unfriendly, Montage sits under a bridge on the north side of the river that splits Portland but clearly we answered his three questions correctly as we gained access to the, at first glance, classically beautiful dining room.  It’s only on further inspection, once your eyes have adjusted to the low level lighting, that it becomes apparent that something is a little amiss.  It’s nothing in particular but the combination of the servers who may be wearing traditional uniforms but, in true hipster style, they are all a couple of sizes too small which reveals the obligatory tattoos and the cooks who are on full show (especially from our kitchen facing bench) and look like they all need a good wash as they continue their presumably years-old competition of “who can shout ‘Order Up’ in the most ridiculous and loud fashion”.  Or maybe it’s the paintings that are versions of classics (such as the last supper) but with chefs taking the lead characters and somehow they all look like they are cutting up lines.  Still, please don’t think this is a criticism as it all makes for a really unique atmosphere as there is never a dull moment in here...and, as a bonus, the Southern themed food just enhances the whole experience.  To start, Kate ticked ‘veggies’ off her daily list of things to eat whilst preggo (more on this another day as it’s an incredible chore) by having a salad whilst I had sautéed frog’s legs with a smoky, spicy cold remoulade.  I’ve only had frog’s legs a few times but these were far and away the best I have had as they were tender, juicy, meaty and surprisingly big which is always a crowd pleaser at the MacNaughton table.  Only after having the appetiser did I remember that I forgot to order the house speciality which is an Oyster Shooter (a freshly shucked west coast oyster with lashings of the same remoulade and fresh lemon juice) so I fit one in between courses for good measure.  For mains, Kate had the Buttermilk Fried Chicken (3 crispy drumsticks) with garlic mashed potato and a succotash of veg whilst I had a spicy macaroni pasta dish with andouille sausage.  They were both excellent but nothing could top those legs which will surely replace Lisa Smith as the thing I think about last before drifting off to sleep for the next few weeks.  Now the shocking part was still to come as the total cost for the food portion of this meal came to less than $30 which is just incredible value.  Another home run from the Mike guide to the Pacific Northwest.

I realise this entry is getting a bit big now (and it’s nearly dinner time) so I’ll try to limit the unnecessary detail but also well worth a mention is Portland’s proximity to a vast amount of nature (the vast and beautiful Forest Park is on its doorstep), the beautiful river front and its vibrant downtown.  Still, as I mentioned at the start, three things hold it back from promoting from great to exceptional.  In true Miss World style, let’s do them in reverse order of importance...

In third place is, unsurprisingly, the weather.  We caught the place in the middle of summer but annually it gets about 150 days of rain which makes Manchester look almost tropical in comparison.  Second place goes to the inhabitants who admittedly provide some world class people watching fodder but it just seems like everyone is achingly cool and unique which would be seriously hard to fit in with (and yes, I do understand the non-sensibility of trying to fit in with uniqueness but you get my meaning).  So that just leaves the crowning reason why Portland is not somewhere I would want to live and it is such an appalling characteristic that it almost makes me sick to write it down.  I’m just going to blurt it out and let you make your own decision.  Portland invented the shopping mall.  There, I said it.  Apparently the Lloyd Center was the first mall in America and its success spawned the global phenomenon which has directly resulted in ruining too many of my Sundays outside the football season.  I could have forgiven the place for Nazi sympathising but inventing Shopping Malls is a step too far for me.

So there you have it, such a great city but with such a dark secret.  Tomorrow we leave for four nights in Seattle.  Fingers crossed we don’t discover they invented the Chick Flick.