The Holy Bagel

The other day I went to a little coffee shop within a grocery store and ordered a toasted multi-grain bagel with cream cheese. It was an unfortunate experience. It had no taste. Okay, a little taste. Like a cardboard taste. Made me sad because I love a good bagel.

A few days later, I got the bagel craving again and remembered that Kettleman's is just a few blocks away. I stopped there on my way to work. The case is beautiful, with baskets full of shiny, flavor studded bagels. They are Kosher, which is good for those people... who need to eat Kosher or something. But also because I like to eat things that I think have been approved by some type of clergy. Probably because I don't really go to church anymore, so I'm stretching everyday experiences into religious experiences. You know, like watching movies about a church on Sunday is kind of like going to church and eating a kosher bagel is sort of like eating food that's been blessed by God, right? [Oh leave me alone. It can be churchy if I want it to be.]

I just want to say that eating the salt bagel with scallion cream cheese was a RELIGIOUS experience. And I would say that even if it wasn't Kosher because it made me say HOLY. HOLY. HOLY. It was. Just as a bagel should be. Chewy. Salt crunching. Just moist enough to latch onto the cream cheese, which had big chunks of sharp scallions in it. I ate it while I was driving and I swear I almost had to pull over.

I went back the next day and got the salt bagel with olive and pimento cream cheese. In the picture here. Beautiful, huh? If you are going to get bagels in Portland, Kettleman's is your place. Please don't buy them from the grocery store. It's offensive to the spirit.

Chow it down, Lady.

The cafe on 14th and Glisan is colorful and bright. Chow, it's called. The lady in front of me ordered a breakfast sandwich in a hesitant voice. The animated counter girl was enthusiastic. "Would you like some biscuits for your dog? We make them here. They're really good." The lady behind the counter was excited about the biscuits. "I was making them all day. And they have bacon fat in them so my hands stunk really bad." I was standing there thinking, how does she know they are good. I pictured her tasting them.

Then it was my turn to order. I ordered the Egg and Tillamook Cheddar sandwich, with red onions and tomatoes and bacon. The order-taking girl behind the counter said the word "lady" probably 50 times. "What would you like, lady?" "I'll bring it right out to you, lady." "There you go, lady." It was amusing. She was bubbly and very smiley.

I took a seat outside, perused the Willamette Week and enjoyed the breeze. My food was ready in about 10 minutes. I lifted the top a little. No tomatoes or onions. Oh well. "I forgot the onions and tomatoes! I made it and I forgot to put the onions and tomatoes on. I'll be right back." Order-taking girl grabbed my plate and brought it back with the tomatoes and onions. It's nice to not have to bring errors up, when the restaurant takes care of it on their own.

When I order an egg sandwich, I always imagine that the egg part is fried. With a yolky, sunshine yellow yolk running over the sides. So I was a little disappointed when I saw a giant scrambled egg disk on the sandwich. It tasted good - fluffy, light. I understand why - it's easier to make a scrambled egg mixture and use that, instead of frying eggs. But there's nothing quite like a fried egg on a sandwich.

Everything on the sandwich was good. The tomatoes bright red, crispy bacon, pungent onions. The cheese had melted into the Bridgeport Bakery bun, so the taste was muted, but the bun was really chewy, warm and perfect.

I wanted there to be more seasoning. A sauce that made the sandwich special. Something. It was a good sandwich, but it was just the ingredients put together, nothing to pull it together. Something was missing. I wonder if they could make a sauce called Chow sauce. I would like that, I think. Like aioli with lemon and rosemary. Then the sandwich would be perfect.

"Thanks, lady!" I waved good-bye, full, but still wanting.

CHOW
505 NW 14th Avenue
Portland, OR 97209
503.274.CHOW (2469)
www.cafechow.com

And then there was PIE

Pie seems to be *it* these days. From Whiffies Fried Pies to the tomato pies at Savor Soup House, they really are all the rage. And I can't seem to get enough. So when I found out there was a pie shop opening mere blocks from my house, I could hardly wait.

The artwork that is being created on the walls at Stone Pie Joe's is interesting. Faces. Lots of faces. In 3-D and in paint. I don't like it so much. Yet. But it's not finished, so I'll give it some time. The women at the counter were still trying to get the hang of things. I think we visited them only on their second or third day open.

I bought a breakfast pie to take home and eat the next day on my way to work. The girl told me to be sure to heat it up in an oven, not a microwave. Sure - that makes sense. It made even more sense when I got my whole order.

I had ordered a mushroom, zucchini and cheese pie, along with a blueberry pie. The savory pies had a crust that was much more similar to bread than crust. It was like a bread bowl. It wasn't bad. Wasn't my favorite either. And even though it was heated up in their convection oven, it was textured like it was heated up in a microwave, chewy and hard to pull apart with my teeth. Though as it cooled, it got easier to eat.

The filling though, it rocked. It was just the right combination of vegetables and cheese and seasoned very well. The filling from the breakfast pie was great the next day - it was full of eggs and sausage and cheese and when I heated it up in my convection oven, it was crispy and fluffy, which I loved. I will definitely be buying pies to take with me to work, since it's so easy. Also, all the pies are $2.85, which is much less than I usually spend on breakfast-y type foods in the morning.

The sweet pies have a more typical crust but aren't overly sweet. I really enjoyed it. Keep an eye on Stone Pie Joe's. I think they will be cranking out some interesting stuff. Vegan and Vegetarian options are plenty. Also, they are open at 6 am, so SCORE!


Stone Pie Joe's
Between Lovejoy and Marshall on NW 23rd

Breakfast, Ears Ringing and Tastebuds Singing

The thing about living in an apartment with no kitchen to speak of, is that I get to go out to eat a lot. And when I don't go out to eat, I don't eat. Which means I am hungry more often and when I am hungry, I feel skinny, and when I feel skinny, I feel sexy and confident. Good, right?

But the other thing that happens when I get hungry is I get a headache and frequently talk about the possibility of eating arms. As in, I'm so hungry I could eat my arm. You can get those Hannibal Lecter thoughts out of your silly little head.

This is exactly the state of mind I was in on Friday morning. I was HUNGRY and on the phone with my friend Jen. We needed to find breakfast and it was already 10ish. We headed to Genies on SE Division. I had been there before, a couple of years ago and remembered it being good.

There was a serious line of people waiting, Friday being a recognized holiday for most places and the weather being what it was. We put our names on the list and decided to plop our emaciated (I use that word loosely) bodies down on the benches and order drinks while we waited. I made two comments about eating my arm and then realized that people around me might not find that as funny as I thought it was. FINE.

After about 30 minutes or so, we were seated in the extremely boisterous dining room. Not sure if it was the acoustics, but it was so loud that we could not have a conversation. I don't even recall any music playing - I think it was all excited people happy to not be at work.

The waitress was one of only two I think, running a very efficient and quick service in the dining room. She expected us to have our order ready when she first came to our table. We knew what we wanted, so it was all good. I ordered the Tasso Eggs Benedict, with Cajun ham from Chop. Jen ordered a scramble of sorts.

One thing I really like about Genies' menu is that it has this statement on the top of it - something to the effect of: We serve you the food that we would make for our own families. We hope you enjoy it. I really love that, because it's not something I necessarily would have thought, with all the bustling around and the orders being cranked out as fast as they were.

I knew my food would be good. I was excited to try the Cajun ham. And in about 10 minutes time, it was in front of me. Spicy, tender - almost, ALMOST, tender enough to cut with the side of a fork. English muffin was toasted just so and the hollandaise sauce was just enough to pull it all together. I would have been okay with more hollandaise, but then again, I'm one of those people who thinks that commercial where the guy is eating a stick of butter is delightful. Anyhow, the eggs were cooked well, even a little more than easy, but still juicy enough to blend with the sauce and make a rich, spicy, mellow bite.

The potatoes were cooked well and seasoned just right - crispy on the outside, creamy on the inside - especially when dipped in the sauce/yolk. Jen enjoyed her scramble as well and let me have a bite of their housemade sausage, which was a mouthful of subtle spice and moist-to-the-point-of-almost-falling-apart-but-not-quite meat.

We finished rather quickly and we escaped the din of the dining room as fast as we could. Genies has fast, efficient, accurate service and really delicious, homemade food, as far away from yuck as you can get. And I think everyone is so excited about it, that they talk in their outside voices. Totally understandable.

I found them at Milo's.

Finally made it to Milo's for Eggs Benedict. I sat at the counter. It's the best place to sit when dining alone. I watched every move they made - restaurant kitchens fascinate me. I've never worked in one, but sometimes I think I want to open a food cart or a restaurant or a diner or something someday. I am endlessly curious about how they poach eggs en masse, what do they prepare ahead of time, how they serve all five people at one table hot food all at once. Anyway, I love watching it all come together.

I ordered fresh squeezed grapefruit juice - was just right. Not too sweet. And the Blackstone Eggs Benedict, with pepper bacon and juicy tomatoes. I watched them poach my egg and grab bacon out of a container on the stove, then I couldn't see them assemble it all the way, but in a jiffy it was in front of me.

The tomatoes were lovely red and juicy and worked together with the bacon for a fresh and salty flavor. They didn't skimp on the bacon either. It was definitely the heart of the dish. The hollandaise sauce was light and buttery. The potatoes were crispy and very hot.

Todd, who had recommended Milo's Eggs Benedict asked me if I have ever had better. Yes, I said, I had. The one time I made it for myself.

And while I would love to make Eggs Benedict every day as my job, it's a relief to know that while I'm stuck in my office job, I can still get some great eggs nearby.

Radio Room coming in loud and clear.

After the bageldict (stop giggling) debacle from the other night and several other benedictal failures, I was *desperate* for some good hollandaise on Saturday morning. My friend Todd recommended Milo's, which I love for dinner, but had never been there for breakfast. I headed out, looking forward to some excellent food.

"Um ma'am, you can't cross the bridge. It's closed." Damn parade. Have I told you how much I hate parades? Mostly because they impede traffic and cause inconvenience in my life, but also because I cry just a little whenever I see pre-teens in uncomfortable nerdy band costumes marching along, playing their instruments and walking at the same time, which is hard and I'm so proud of them. *Sob.*

But anyway. I ended up crossing the Broadway Bridge and was detoured down side streets until I ended up driving down MLK towards North Portland. I remembered that Matt from the Grilled Cheese Grill had said that Radio Room was really good - and maybe they had breakfast! So I headed over to Alberta St.

I love the inside of Radio Room. The art on the walls is bright and colorful and pop-culture-y, which is right up my alley. There was only a couple of other people in there when I walked in. The cheerful, smiley waitress came over to me right away. Because I was sleepy, I asked for a diet Coke.

When I opened the menu, I knew right away what I wanted. It was called the Playwright's Hangover. Toasted bread, covered in a saffron beschamel sauce, with grilled mixed vegetables and topped with two over-medium eggs. I know my goal was hollandaise, but this pushed all thoughts of Benedict out of my mind. Also. I felt kind of cool. Like I really was a playwright. With a hangover. Eating breakfast with Sam Shepard, August Wilson and um maybe, Neil LaBute for a little color. Temporary insanity due to several episodes of crappy eggs benedict.

The toast was softened, though not soggy, with the beschamel sauce. The mixed vegetables, which included broccoli, zucchini, asparagus, and carrots, were topped with the eggs. The flavors were great together and perfectly seasoned - no salt and pepper needed. (Though I was kind of disappointed not to use the salt and pepper grinders on the table - that's so rare!)

It so hit the spot - but wasn't heavy because of all the vegetables. There was plenty of sauce, but not an overpowering amount. It was all put together just right.

Can't wait to go back for lunch/dinner/latenight/anytime at all.

Bageldict Humperdink.

When a place says they serve breakfast all day, I am thrilled. Because I love breakfast. Furthermore, when a place serves eggs benedict all day, I am again thrilled because I love eggs benedict. And. When a place that serves eggs benedict all day as part of their all day breakfast menu is just two blocks from my house, I am again thrilled.

Sadly, this place is Kornblatts. I mean I wasn't sad at first. At first I was thrilled. The waiter was peppy and enthusiastic about the "bageldict." Then I got my order.

I ordered the bageldict (why does that word sound so dirty?) on a garlic bagel, which tasted...processed and chemical and totally overpoweringly garlicky. The bagel was tough and hard to cut through. The hollandaise sauce was surely premade out of a container because it was too bright of a yellow color and tasted like absolutely nothing.

And the potatoes. If they hadn't been left out on the counter overnight, surely they had been left on the counter all day. They were cold, overcooked and just plain gross.

If you can't serve it right, don't serve it at all. I would prefer that you didn't serve breakfast all day if you are just going to serve cold, old leftovers. Do what you do well and stick to that. Of course, I don't know what Kornblatts does well, since I haven't eaten there any other time, but I'm not going back now. Mediocrity is one thing. Utter crap is another.

"Simpatica" means nice.

All hail the Brunch God. Simpatica started serving brunch on Saturday. Moments after I read the announcement, I called to make reservations for my restaurant group.

We waited a few minutes for them to get our table set up. I could not wait to see the menu. I know there was a lot of great stuff. Waffles and Banana Pancakes and Eggs Benedict and Strata and oh. So many things.

I decided to take a leap. The Logger. Chicken-fried bison with country ham gravy, roasted potatoes and two eggs, over-easy. It took a while for our food, but we had a lot of people and it was busy. Plus, I was kind of feeding my stomach by gawking at the food around me. The smells were intoxicating, the plates, culinary artistry.

My bison was tender and crunchy and laced with fatty ham country gravy. The potatoes perfectly roasted enough to sop up the yellow middles of the eggs. Yeah. It was perfect.

The waitress tempted us with dessert. Someone at our table said "Dessert? Ohhhh. I don't know about that." The waitress nonchalantly said "I eat dessert and bacon with every meal." I loved that she said that. Even if it wasn't true, she and I were on the same level for that one moment. And, it convinced almost all of us to try the Jack Frost Cake, made of homemade chocolate cookies and homemade peppermint ice cream.

I want to go back again and again. I mean, why even make my own breakfast on the weekends anymore? There's so much more of the menu I need to explore.

P.S. Simpatica - I think you should change your name. I mean "nice" is nice, but how about, "Increible" or "Estupendo" or "Fabuloso"? But that's just the opinion of one brunch junkie.

Saturday morning at a coffee shop, where we meet two Bostonians against Mitt Romney.

We needed our strength. Ansley and I were headed to Battle Ground, Washington to go to a Barn House Sale. We stopped by the Wordstock office to get some programs and posters to pass out along the way and were headed to Ken's Artisan Bakery to grab some goodness to eat in the car.

But then. We drove past 50 Plates, which appeared to be open this fine, chilly Saturday morning. We decided to check out their breakfast.

It was empty - it's more of a coffee shop setting in the morning. The two people tending to the counter, a short-haired blonde girl with fashion-conscious glasses and a young man with dark hair, were talking about Sarah Palin. "She's on Saturday Night Live tonight," I said. "I know! We were just talking about that." The conversation then turned to Obama and McCain. The girl made an anti-McCalin comment. "Oops," she said, "I probably shouldn't have said that."

"Oh you're okay," I said, "This is Portland - you are pretty safe to make a comment like that." We talked a little bit more about the election and how we hoped that Obama would be elected. We talked about how amazing it was that it was such a close race. I mentioned that one of my sisters is writing in Mitt Romney's name for President.

"Well. We're from Boston. And you can tell your sister that as Republicans from Massachusetts, Mitt Romney has done nothing for the state." Okay, I said. I'll pass it on.

Then we ordered food. Ansley ordered the drinking chocolate - which if you ever go to 50 Plates, you REALLY need to get. It's a huge cup of hot milk, with a block of solid chocolate on a stick that you swirl around in the milk. So delicious.

I ordered orange juice (fighting a cold still!) and a waffle sandwich with canadian bacon, mustard greens and a duck egg. Ansley got the French toast skewers with berry syrup. (See Ansley's post with pictures of her food here.)

Delicious! The waffle was crispy and warm, the duck egg over easy, the mustard greens flavorful and the Canadian bacon just salty enough to complement the egg and the tomato. It was perfect. And it was only $4.50!

Such a delightful way to start the day and a long journey to Battle Ground. Politics to get the blood going through my head and breakfast to warm my stomach.


www.50plates.com

My Tongue Is Delighted

The first time I had a macaron from Ken's Artisan Bakery, it was a favor from a baby shower. I picked up my chocolate spice macaron on the way out the door. It looked so enticing that before we were out of the driveway, the little cellophane bag was open and the fluffy sweetness was in my mouth.

As I was licking my fingers, some of the other guests walked past us on their way out, seeing my tongue fleet in and out, not allowing one iota of sugar to escape. But I didn't really care. The taste of the cookie was too creamy, chewy and chocolate-y to be squashed by embarrassment. From that moment on, I wanted more.

Saturday, my new roommate and I decided to head to Ken's to check out the morning fare of baked goods. My tongue was practically jumping out of my mouth as I saw that they had Apricot Macarons, in addition to the Chocolate Spice ones. I ordered one of each and a cannele. Oh and a fresh cherry tart. Ansley ordered a grilled cheese sandwich and a macaron of her own.

As we sat, not so discreetly eavesdropping on the people beside us plan their business floorplan, and eating our sweets, the wind blew through the open retractable wall and I savored the sweet summer morning. The cherries were tart atop a sweet cream, and the cannele, a sweet spongy mini bundt cake-like pastry was just perfect. The macarons - I took them home, only to savor them after my lunch later on in the afternoon. Even though I had tasted them before, they properly stunned my tastebuds with their subtle spiciness and their overtly first-place-in-the-world-of-macarons chewy sweetness.

The grilled cheese, which I was so grateful to have a bite of, was gloriously gooey and cheesy - a french cheese, similar to brie, generously slabbed and melted atop walnut bread and toasted with a panini press. This was heaven. Finger-licking heaven.

Thanks, Ken. Please don't ever leave Portland. Please.

Me and Benedict Eat Breakfast

Johns Landing is quiet on Saturday mornings. A few joggers here and there, but overall, it's peaceful and kind of empty. Tucked away from Macadam on Virginia Ave, Porcelli's Restaurant, a former grocery store, seems quaint and homey. And on a Saturday morning, is also peaceful and kind of empty. I opened the door with a little too much force and didn't quite step far enough inside. The door whacked my heel, as well as my behind, sounding a loud THWAP. The one couple eating there stared at me. The waiter just inside the door stared at me. "Sorry... I guess is didn't take a big enough step." I laughed nervously as they all continued to stare at me. After what seemed like several seconds, the waiter finally asked if I was okay. I nodded and made apologies again.

I sat down on the other side of the dividing wall, so that I wouldn't be forced to stare at the couple who was staring at me. I heard them leave a few minutes later. There was soft music playing, but my thoughts were much louder than the music, and I was starting to feel the pressure of solo dining.

The menu was long, but sounded good. There were no words like "fresh" or "organic" or "herbs" anywhere in sight. It was kind of a relief to be honest. I just wanted breakfast without the pretense of the high-end foodie culture in Portland. I ordered orange juice and my good old friend, Eggs Benedict.

It's one thing to eat in a restaurant alone. It's quite another to be the only patron in a restaurant when you are eating alone. There was no people watching. There was no loud music. There was just my thoughts and me. The chef was rearranging glasses at the bar. He stopped just to make me breakfast. Nice of him! Took only a few minutes, then he returned to the bar to finish his task.

Benedict arrived and looked pristine. Creamy, hot. The potatoes were shimmering and spicy. Honestly, it was the best Eggs Benedict I have had in a long time. I enjoyed it and didn't want the taste to end. Though the awkwardness of being the only patron only got worse. Especially when I went to cut through the ham with my knife and fork and my hand slipped. My knife scraped loudly against the plate like nails on a chalkboard and a few potatoes jumped to the floor. Oops.

I hurried and finished my breakfast, rushing out of the uncomfortable feeling as quickly as I could, trying to savor the taste of my Benedict all the while. The waiter came to take my plate and eyed the potatoes on the floor. Damn. He found them. I would have made a joke, like: "Just call me clutzy Carrie!" and then laughed cleverly, but after the door incident, I'm pretty sure he already knew the current state of my clutziness and was not pleased with it.

Slightly flushed and ready to not be alone in an empty restaurant, I paid the bill ($11.75 for Eggs Benedict and Orange Juice), and walked out. They were probably relieved that the awkward, clutzy solo diner was leaving. I know I was.

Add about 10 or 15 people to the surroundings and I'm sure this place is a good place to enjoy the food, which tasted really really good, the little part of the menu that I sampled. So when you are sure you are going to be there, call me, k? I'd like to check it out again, buy my soul can only handle so much solitude under the observation of a chef and a waiter.



Open for Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner
Seven days a week

Pine State Biscuits (3640 SE Belmont St.)

Biscuits were one of the first things that I learned to bake. I am a bread fiend, so quick access is important sometimes when you need that dense serving of carbs fast. First I learned how to make baking powder drop biscuits. Those are okay when you are in a real hurry, but nothing compares to the cream biscuits I learned to make that rise a couple of inches high as they bake until golden brown.

They split easily because they are so flaky and buttery. This is by far the best biscuit to use on top of a chicken pot pie. But the best way to serve them is plain, with butter and jam. Hot. Right from the oven. Or with a pile of sausage gravy on top, yeah, that would be fine too.

I'm so happy that Pine State Biscuits opened up a real-live store. Their popularity at the Portland Farmers Market propelled them into a storefront. Halle-freakin-lujah. So Saturday morning when I met a couple of friends for breakfast at Pine State, I decided to go for the gravy. Spicy sausage gravy, with paprika (I think) sprinkled on top of the biscuit, oh yeah, and the fried egg over-easy. So warm. So solid. Such a freakin good meal with such complex, heavy-hitting taste.

They have no juice, only this Cheerwine soda that really isn't that great, but it makes me happy to look at the bottle and you can't help but be in a good mood when you are drinking red sugar at 8 in the morning. It's coffee or soda here, folks. Oh and water.

It was a packed and I'm sure it will stay packed for a while. Great biscuits are hard to come by. These are de-light-ful.

Mother's Bistro (212 SW Stark Ave.)

Oh this is long overdue. I can't believe I haven't written about Mother's before. My sister had a birthday breakfast there about a month ago, with my mom, both grandmas and our sister. It was a good time! I have to say though. They have a policy about not seating you until your whole party is present, which I totally understand. But they were not flexible at all considering we had one 98-year old and one 89-year old, who both need assistance walking down the street. That was a little disappointing.

But the food and the service once were were seated were great. My sister had made flower arrangements and brought jars of lemon curd for everyone, which the waitress ooh-ed and ahh-ed over. They brought her some complimentary crunchy French Toast with candles in it for her birthday. Luckily, we all had a bite. Very hey-mom-let's-put-corn-flakes-in-the-French-Toast-ish. It was delicious.

I ordered the biscuits and gravy, which were pretty good. I did like my grandma's pancakes better, though, with coconut in them. Those were really great. My mom got the eggs benedict, which was good, but the hollandaise seemed a little gloppy. It tasted great though.

I've eaten dinner at Mother's before, but not for ages. I do remember their pot roast and their mac and cheese being delightful.

So for all you people who have been to Mother's before, what's your favorite?

Simpatica Dining Hall - Best Breakfast in the Country?

Okay, so I don't read men's magazines very often. Although I did explore the website of Details when I received this link via email and I think it is a male version of Cosmo. Lots of talk about style and sex and apparently, food. They compiled a list of best breakfasts in the country, which does seem like a rather useful article. Portland's own Simpatica Dining Hall made it on the list.

I've never eaten at Simpatica Dining Hall. It's on my list, but haven't been there yet. Have you eaten breakfast there? What's your take? Is it the best?

The March issue of Details is on newstands this week.

Helser's (1538 NE Alberta)

Their specials sounded fantastic. Helser's on Alberta smelled delightful. The waitress said that she really liked the eggs benedict with ham, so that's what I ordered.

My friends ordered eggs, sausage and potato pancakes. I stared at the other patrons as they were eating their food. I was really hungry.

I have been wanting to eat here since I read LadyConcierge's review back in November.

After a good long wait for our food, we finally got it. It all looked perfect. But my eggs benedict were lukewarm. The crumpet they were resting on was dry, the edges soggy from hollandaise. Maybe I'm just not used to crumpets. One of the eggs was overcooked and solid, not like a usual eggs benedict where the yolk runs into the hollandaise sauce and swirls together to make a perfect sauce for the ham and bread.

I did really enjoy the potatoes, though. They were crispy and in flaky chunks with perfect seasoning and onions. They were stellar. And the pears were crispy and fresh and definitely a good finish for a heavy-ish breakfast, light and sweet.

My friends loved their food. I just didn't love my eggs benedict. I think maybe I need to go again and give it another shot - the food was too pretty not to be good. Maybe it was just an off morning.

Stay tuned for Helser's: episode 2.

Cricket Cafe (3159 SE Belmont)

I stayed out late on Friday. Late enough that my legs were laborious to move by the time I was on my way home. When I finally crawled into bed at 2am, I was heavy with anticipation of sleep. So I was really, really annoyed when I woke up at 7:30am. I tried to go back to sleep. But my eyes were burning because they needed sleep and burning so much that it was keeping me awake. Around 8:00, my back started hurting. Damn firm mattress. Fine. Fine. The universe wanted me awake.

When I can’t sleep on Saturday mornings, there’s only one thing I do. I watch the Food Network. After the Barefoot Contessa and a little Bobby Flay, I was hungry. A conversation with my roommate Kristin about cooking and food led us to believe that we should be brave and face the world. Out in the cold. To get some good breakfast. Where to go?

Cricket Cafe. Hmmmm. Belmont. Saturday. Not too crowded. The customers were not limited to one stereotypical group – not hipsters, not yuppies, just people who wanted to eat breakfast. We sat in the back room, which was quieter than the front. The menu looked fantastic. I wanted something sweet and savory. I have always liked the sickeningly sweet pancakes with syrup, but always need a little egg or sausage to mellow it out.

I ordered the Saint Hash with Cajun potatoes, red peppers, onions, housemade pork sausage, two eggs over the top and covered in hollandaise sauce. I substituted a piece of toast with a big fat pancake.
The waitress brought me a tall glass of fresh squeezed grapefruit juice. I am picky about my grapefruit juice. I hate the grapefruit juice “cocktail” that you buy in the grocery store. Red Ruby? Sugar water. Hate it. But this glass, similar to the juice at Bread and Ink Cafe, was filled with fresh, unsweetened, lip puckeringly tangy grapefruit juice.

The servings were quite large. The Cajun potatoes were very spicy and would have been too spicy for me had it not been for the lemony hollandaise sauce and egg yolks that spilled over the hash like a cool bath over a sunburn. The pancake was crispy around the edges and fluffy in the middle. It perfectly soaked up the melted butter and syrup to reward me with a mouth full of salty sweetness.

Kristin ordered the special scramble, with mozzarella, pesto, sun-dried tomatoes and sausage, served with a biscuit. It looked really tasty, but I was so infatuated with my hash that I forgot to even taste my friend’s food. Bad restaurant reviewer.

The guy in the corner behind us was chilling out after his breakfast. Reading the paper, drinking his coffee by himself. A scene that was replicated in a few different parts of the cafe. I like that. A place where people feel comfortable enough to enjoy their breakfast, their paper and their coffee. Alone, or with friends.

The service was not too slow and was unintrusive. Laid back. Saturday. Morning. Breakfast. We stumbled back to the car, our legs maybe a little wobbly from the massive dose of carbs and fat we had just taken in. Upon our arrival home, I fell into bed and slept for 4 hours. Sigh. That was exactly what I wanted.

Genie's (1101 SE Division)

My sister, a floral designer and sometimes crazy, stunning, beautiful event planner, is helping me plan a fundraiser at my house for my favorite nonprofit in Portland. She is being very official and professional about it. We had to have a lunch meeting on Saturday. So we lunched at Genie's and discussed decorations and the menu.

A girl in a purple mini-dress and black tights manned the bar. Green stripes, bright red and cool hats also punctuated the appearance of the servers. It made me happy to see such color abounding on a Fall Saturday afternoon.

They had a whole tea menu, which Chelsea loved - she ordered White Peony tea. I wanted to try the Virgin Bloody Mary. But decided that I wasn't quite in the mood, so I am saving that for my next visit.

I really wanted the crab and asparagus eggs benedict, but sadly, they were out of it. So instead I tried the biscuits and gravy, with their house-made sausage. It came with two eggs and roasted potatoes. The sausage in the gravy was salty and spicy and the perfect complement to the cream gravy. The gravy itself could have used a tad more salt for my taste, but all in all was excellent. The biscuits were crispy on the outside and soft and creamy on the inside and eaten with a bite of egg, the whole thing came together quite nicely. The potatoes were good, crispy and spiced quite nicely.

Chelsea had an omelet, which I think was a mushroom and cheese omelet. It was quite good, the bite I had. She also had the potatoes O'Brien, which were better than my roasted potatoes I thought, but then again, I always love onions and peppers in anything, so it would stand to reason that I would like them better.

I liked Genie's. It had a good hippie atmosphere and the food and the service were both good. I really want that Bloody Mary now.

If you are interested in attending my stunningly beautiful, fabulous menu-ed Autumn Soiree and House Party fundraiser for Write Around Portland, please e-mail me. It's going to be a kick.