Will You Marry Me? Okay. Fine. Then take me to Lucier instead.

"So I promised the valet that I would go back for a drink. You guys want to meet me there?" I was hesitant. The 4th of July. I was not dressed up. No, in fact, I think you could say that I was definitely dressed down. Lucier is rumored to have a dress code. And a river running through it. (Now that would be very Robert Redford-ish if there really was!) Not the place I would go in my grubbies after sitting in the dirt watching the fireworks on the waterfront.

Laura seemed confident though - "Oh they'll let us in, it's just the bar." Why the hell not. Sure. Let's try it. We greeted the valet, who remembered Laura. Wait. Stop right there. If the evening had ended right then, it would have been enough. The valet was as hot as the 4th of July. And it actually WAS the 4th of July, so I can verify the accuracy of that statement. I reflected on my own appearance as I stared at him.

My eye makeup was of course smeared from the heat and the business of the day and by 10:30 I looked like a full-fledged heroin addict, with ripped jeans and a t-shirt and a red fleece blanket crumpled in my arms from the fireworks show. Ah well. Sometimes it's hot to just be yourself, yes? (The correct answer is: YES. Thanks for playing.)

The valet, darling as he was, assured us that we were not underdressed. "You know there's no dress code here. It says 'business casual', and this is Portland after all. You guys are fine."

We wandered to the patio and I caught a glimpse of the dining room on our way. H. O. L. Y. Did the architects know they were building a restaurant in PORTLAND? The chandeliers, tablecloths and flowers made me cough a little and cover up, as if I was exposing some part of myself.

We found the perfect place to sit - a couch and two cushy chairs around a coffee table. Mmmm. The menu was short. And French. My eyes went straight to the truffled parsnip chips (parsnip chips gratinees, black truffle-infused oil, bra tenero cheese). And some kind of fried cheese things (Fourme d’ambert cromesquis, fourme d’ ambert cheese croquette sauternes & honeycomb syrup). My friends ordered all manner of desserts.

The waitresses all wore uniforms of silky/satiny halter tops, black slacks and high heels. Malibu Barbie was our waitress. The original Barbie was in there somewhere, too. But all the Barbies were nice and friendly and spot-on waitresses. I'm only calling them Barbies because I'm jealous. Truly. They were all as hot as the valet. I began to wonder: Am I really in Portland or am I on a strange drug-trip to 90210?

Sigh. The food was A-mazing. The parsnip chips? Yah. Could have eaten the plate of them all myself and maybe even a second plate of them. The deep truffle flavor and salt permeated the delicate parsnips and it all came together with the cheese that was melted on top. Think hoity-toity nachos that rock. Thank goodness my pride was a little on guard that night and I refrained from the desperation-second-order. There was no need, really. The desserts, which included a black pepper cheesecake and jasmine creme brulee and then a chocolate fancy dish, had really interesting flavor combinations. I liked them and thought that the the pastry chef must be intriguing. I am really more of a salt person, though. I could have stuck with the chips and cheese and been so so happy. Instead, I pushed it a little farther and was stuffed.

Right about the time I was going to go into a food coma, Malibu Barbie came by and told us that it was last call. Sara and Chelsea went to the bathroom and came back all agog and with a beautiful brown fancy-dinner-napkin like paper towel as a souvenir.

As we were leaving, the waitress gave us a tour of the dining room. Gasp! There IS a river running through it. Not kidding. Well, it is really more of a trickle in a tiled moat around the dining room. But still. A river runs through it. She was talking about the symbolism of the different styles and walls and how it all reflects Portland, but I just kept thinking that I needed to run home and shower and put on some really nice clothes before I could understand anything that she was saying.

It is really, really beautiful. The food is rich and flavorful and memorable. I really want to go to dinner there, but it's going to have to be an occasion that's worth it. This is not a Friday night, restaurant group kind of a place. It's a 50th anniversary place. Or a my book just got published place. Or OMG I just got a $5,000 bonus at work place. Or a marriage proposal place.

But I don't put it past myself to dress up one night and pretend that one of those things is happening to me, just so I can eat dinner there.

Pinocchio (1005 SW Park Ave)

We went to Pinocchio the other night, after seeing the Oregon Symphony Gospel Christmas (which was excellent!). I ordered the antipasto vegetable platter and some garlic bread. Kristin ordered the chicken special. The waitress was very nice and seemed to know a lot about the food. The vegetables were okay. Not great. The broccoli raab was way overcooked. The garlic bread was just too much. It was dripping with a ton of butter and garlic and parmesan cheese. So much that a tiny little crumb fell on my shirt and now my shirt is stained. Sometimes it's best to just leave a good thing alone, instead of trying to make it better. The bread was crispy and chewy - perfect probably on its own. But weighed down with so much effort, it was just mediocre.

I was interested to try this place after reading this. I'm glad I tried it. Wasn't really impressed. Might go back to give it a second try. Might not.

Calypso (3350 SE Morrison St)

So my dinner group for November met at Calypso, f.k.a. Salvador Molly's. I am sad. It was not so good. They were very nice on the phone. But the food was not great. It was just okay. I had a heaping pile of pulled pork that was bland and mashed potatoes that were still in the shape of the round scoop. Never a good sign. I tasted some habanero poppers that ignited my mouth and made it impossible to taste anything else for the rest of the night.

When asked for a recommendation, the waiter said, "What do I like here? I don't eat here." Hmmm.

Rock and Roll Cafe (4160 NE Sandy Blvd)

So I know this place is called Mark Lindsay's Rock and Roll Cafe. But seriously. Who cares who's cafe it is. Unless the who is a really really good chef. And in this case. He is not. (Yes, I know who Mark Lindsay is.)

The vast menu was a little overwhelming. There is a Meier and Frank section. Food that used to be served at Meier and Frank, I guess. In that section was Gerry's Frank. Exactly as he (Gerry Frank) liked it, I guess, with all the fixings. I thought about getting it until my sister said, "You're going to eat what?" Gerry Frank's... oh. Yeah. I lost my appetite.

There was a vegetarian menu, a Blues menu, a ballad menu, then on the back was the old Yaw's menu. I couldn't tell if it was a picture of an old menu to elicit "awwwwwwww"s from the clientele or if it was really a menu. I think you can actually order things from that menu. It has things like fries with brown gravy. Interesting. But not appetizing.

Anyway, after a more than 20 minute wait for our server to take our order (though those 20 minutes were punctuated with "I'm sorry! I'll be right with you!" and "It's just so busy!" "Sorry!", etc.) a different server came and took our order. My sisters shared a Reuben Sandwich and fries. We also ordered salad rolls. I had a Bleu Cheese Salad. We got our food in relatively short order. The salad was seriously lacking Bleu Cheese and had only one piece of the promised prosciutto. But it was tasty nevertheless.

My salad was supposed to come with bleu cheese cornbread, which I thought was a novel idea. But really, when I got it, it was just a regular piece of cornbread with bleu cheese sprinkled on top. The cornbread even had jalepenos in it. Strange combination.

The Reuben did not win rave reviews from my sisters. And I heard reports of the fries tasting like McDonald's fries. The salad rolls were uncomfortable to eat, like biting into a roll of straw. I guess it was a combination of the noodles and the lettuce that were, well, like straw.

At one point, randomly in the middle of our dinner, the server that was first assigned to us slid into our booth and said "I'm just so sorry that I couldn't take your order. I don't like to neglect my customers that I've already started." Okay. Thanks for letting us know.

Then when our waitress brought us our ticket she said, "We really really appreciate you coming. Thank you so much." Did we just give a donation to a non-profit? Oh that's right. No, we just ate a crappy meal at a new restaurant.

In all fairness, the restaurant JUST opened on the 27th. So they might have a few kinks to work out.

I guess Mark Lindsay put his name on there to signify the rock and roll-ishness that plasters the walls and the airwaves in the restaurant. It is definitely noticeable. But isn't that why it's called the Rock and Roll Cafe?

**Update: Woke up very sick in the middle of the night and was sick the whole next day. From salad. Ugh. Stay away.

Nutshell (3808 N. Williams)

I keep thinking back to Saturday night. Crunchy earth colored salt, hanging out on a perfect piece of Pearl Bakery bread, all wet with Spanish olive oil. Creamy, cool avocado, perfectly seasoned and sweet grilled pineapple married to carmelized walla walla onions on a soft and chewy, yet firm multi-grain bread. Bamboo shoots spackled with crunchy batter, dipped in a lip-swelling habenero sauce. Sparkling peach and champagne soup tickling my throat and cleansing my pallette.

Nutshell , a vegan restaurant, opened just a couple of weeks ago. The graffiti-clad walls note the uniqueness of the place and the book exchange in the corner makes me feel at home. The carniverous plants on each table scare me just a little.

I am not a vegan, but if I'll be damned if I'm not nearly converted after eating at Nutshell just once. The food is beautiful and sensual and full of intensity.

We finished the bread before the salt was gone and while we were waiting for our meal, I finished the salt. Is that bad manners? To eat salt with your fingers? I don't know, but I'm so glad I did. Salt is a new discovery for me, at least gourmet salts. And I am smitten. I would go back to Nutshell for the salt alone, but lucky for me their food is just as seductive.

They serve soup in shot glasses. And have at least 20 different salts. And I haven't tried dessert yet. Three great reasons to go back. See you there.

Nutshell is cash only. And it's inexpensive. The four of us had a bill of only $46 total.

The Green Room - Take Two (2280 NW Thurman St)

So I went to the Green Room about a year ago to listen to music and just recently returned this past weekend. A couple of improvements: it wasn't nearly as smoky and the patio was open. The service is still excellent (I'm pretty sure we had the same waitress this time as last year) and friendly. The food is still good - I had a grilled cheese sandwich on whole wheat, with provolone cheese and tomatoes, which was just crusty enough and melty enough to satisfy my hunger. The tater tots were so crispy, just like I like them, and I would venture to say that they give McMenamin's a run for their money where tater tots are concerned.

The people watching is as good as it can get. A few young women were dressed up in prom-like dresses, writing on each others' chests with the ketchup and mustard bottles. A couple of other women were standing next to us on the patio divulging their secret crushes on the woman who was singing. "God, I'm in love with her. She really knows what she wants." A man offered to fight me for the next spot in line for the bathroom and then after we bonded in the bathroom line, got the waitress's attention for me at the bar so I could buy a drink a few minutes later. Seriously, good strange people interaction. I love that.

The music - I liked it okay. My sis hated it. It was Women Who Rock Night. Two women who looked like they were straight from the 80s, both in age and dress, sang their hearts out. Really, when it's that late at night (11:00), I don't care so much about the quality as I do the loudness and the beat of the music. That girl was right - the singer did know what she wanted and she sang about it loudly and with all her heart. She certainly fulfilled the titular role of the evening.

We really came to hear the third woman singer - a rockabilly (still have yet to hear that kind of music) singer, but it got too late and we were too tired to stick it out. So for the second time at the Green Room I've missed the people I came to hear. And for the second time I didn't try their barbeque. What is WRONG with me??!!! (That is a rhetorical question, please don't post a comment with an answer. Because I already know. And you are right.)

Da Rib Shack (3503 N. Mississippi)

A couple of weeks ago, my friend Kristin and I went to N. Mississippi to listen to some music at Mississippi Pizza Pub (review coming!). We parked right in front of this sign. When we got out of the car, the smell of barbeque hooked me and almost overcame me to the point of being forced over to the little cart that was set up. However, we were going to meet friends to eat pizza, so no barbeque that night.

My sister and I headed over there on Saturday night, once again to listen to music. This time, as we passed the little white cart with three barbeques surrounding it, we succumbed to the addictive aroma of Southern joy. They were already closed, but the man inside the cart said he would fix us a sandwich anyway. A beef brisket sandwich. He flipped the meat and the sauce around in a pan, right there in front of us, then poured it on some thick yellow Texas toast bread.

The sauce was thick, red, sweet and sticky - exactly like barbeque should be. After a couple of bites, I had to use a fork because otherwise, the sandwich would have fallen all over me. It was delicious. We got a copy of the menu that will be in full effect next week, after their grand opening. It includes such things as catfish, red snapper with creole sauce, Louisiana salad, black-eyed peas, vegan collard greens, jerk chicken, sweet potato cheesecake, and on Louisiana Saturday, they have a Ja-Ballin (shrimp and talapia) Po'Boy.

This place is gold. Their Grand Opening is on June 19th. I'm telling you, you walk by and if that aroma doesn't grab you by the throat and force you to eat barbeque, then there's probably something wrong with you. I'm just saying.

Hours: Tue - Thurs 12 noon - 7 pm, Fri - Sat, 12 Noon - until close

Three Lions Bakery (1323 NW 23rd)

So after the long walk/run on Saturday morning with Portland Fit, we decided to hit Three Lions Bakery for breakfast. I actually wasn't that hungry, but the attractive smell tickled my nose as soon as I got out of the car. The place was filled with people, (NW 23rd on a Saturday morning, of course!) and their display case looked yummy. I ordered an Oatmeal Raisin Scone, because it looked just like the ones my mom used to make when we were kids. It was buttery, crumbly and delicious. Just like the first one I ever tasted.

My friend got a breakfast sandwich on a croissant that looked great, along with some fresh fruit. The service was good, and it's a comfortable place to fill up on carbs after a good workout. Three Lions Bakery has five other locations. You should definitely check them out.

Peanut Butter and Ellie's (4405 SW Vermont Street)

This here is a shout out to my nephews Joshua and Caleb and my niece Millie. I took Joshua and Caleb to Peanut Butter and Ellie's last year and we had the most scrumptious food. I had a peanut butter and bacon sandwich that was delicious. I think Joshua had something with chocolate and marshmallows! Caleb had fun writing on the chalkboard wall.

It's almost time for Millie to experience PB and Ellie's. Maybe next time they come up to visit me...

A Taste of Bali (947 SW Broadway ), South Park (901 SW Salmon St) and Leonardo DiCaprio

After two days of snowbound boredom, Kristin and I decided to take a field trip into the thawing city. The bus ride was noisy. Kr-chunk, kr-chunk, the chains on the tires crunched on the road every second. Before we fed our appetite for sexy violence with Blood Diamond at the Broadway Theater, we decided to feed our appetite for dinner. Right across the street from the Theater, A Taste of Bali called to us. It is a somewhat dingy place, not really attractive, but the menu looked great and the colorful pictures of Bali on the walls were fun to look at.

Inside, a PSU student was ordering his dinner at the front counter. As we pondered over the menu, an enthusiastic man, I think the owner, told us to sit down, that he would be right with us. We ordered our food - I had pork satay - and ate the cabbage salad that is served with all meals. A woman who was visibly intoxicated came in and ordered a pina colada drink. The owner knew her - she seemed to be a regular.

It took a few minutes, maybe 10 or 15 for our food to come out, but once it did, it was worth the wait - the pork was grilled perfectly and was juicy and crispy on the outside. The owner had to leave to go pay his electric bill, which he announced at least 5 times on his way out the door, with a big toothy grin. "You have any questions, you ask my son or my wife. They help you."

We paid the son, who joked around like his father and asked me if I was going to pay for his dinner too. Next time, I said and left to go watch Leo fight in the African jungles.

I have never liked Leonardo DiCaprio, but he is excellent in Blood Diamond. There haven't been many good action movies lately, but this one was worth it. Check out the Broadway Theater, too - they have new seats and tables and are now serving pizza.

South Park entertained us for Dessert - we'll have to go back to give it a full review, but the the warm dates we had for appetizers before our dessert, were beautiful and melty, sweet and salty and combined with the swanky atmosphere, we could tell there was much more to be experienced. The Apple Compote Bread Pudding was more custard-y than soggy bread, which I loved and the caramel sauce topped it off nicely. Next time, we'll have dinner and see how good this place really is.

Spice (fka Billy Reed's) (2808 NE M L King Blvd)

Tempura covered deep fried vegetables (broccoli, squash, zuchini, green beans) are just as tasty as french fries, maybe even more so, and come with a handy little guilt disposer. Upon the first bite, you might think to yourself "I really shouldn't eat all this fried food." Then, upon swallowing all the nutrients, the vegetables compel you to feel good about yourself. "Think about all the vitamin ___ I'm getting from eating this ____ (fill in vegetable here)."

Onion rings are just another tempura covered deep fried vegetable. The ancho chili in the batter sets them apart from the squash and green beans, but really, it's all the same. I can still feel good about myself. Especially because I had a salad for dinner. I mean, the appetizers were fried, but they were so small and come on - they are vegetables! The salad was heavy laden with tasty vinagrette and goat cheese crostini - but there was an awful lot of greenery there to balance it out.

I felt good about my dinner at Spice. The glasses and silverware were all swoopy or sloopy (depending on which word YOU use), making me feel a little sideways. The service was okay - we had two waitresses, which was annoying (How's everything tasting? said the curly haired girl. Do you like your dinner? said the tight pony-tail girl 5 seconds later).

I never went to Billy Reed's when it existed, so I have nothing to compare it to. All in all. Yum. They have numerous fountains emptying all over the sidewalk. Or maybe it was a water main leak. Nevertheless, it added to the ambiance.

P.S. The picture on this post has nothing to do with the restaurant. It is a picture of my favorite spice rack from Dean and Deluca. Someday, when $145 means nothing to me and I am living on Easy Street, counting my money because I am bored, this spice rack will be mine.

El Grillo (703 SW Ankeny St)

"Seriously, this place has the best burritos. And you have to use the bathroom." That's how I first heard about El Grillo, a hole-in-the-wall Mexican place downtown. A co-worker told me to go and drink a tall Corona with my meal and then venture to the restroom, hidden behind the swinging door connecting El Grillo with Mary's Club.

I didn't go for the Corona, but I did order a Diet Coke with the Burrito El Grillo - a giant burrito filled with tender ground beef, fresh chopped tomatoes, onions, cilantro and jalepeno peppers, covered in enchilada sauce and cheese. Everything tasted so fresh and the cilantro was bright green and newly wilted by the heat of the meat. It was a simple burrito, but it was excellent. I even got a Mexican Flag on a toothpick on top. Fast service and friendly people enhanced the authentic food. (Okay, I've never been to Mexico as an adult, so for me to say it is authentic is, well, a rather unauthentic comment. But it seemed to me to be more authentically Mexican than Taco Bell or Baja Fresh at least.)

As we were eating, the back door swung open for a large man wearing a shirt with flowers or dolphins or some type of hideous pattern on it, coming in from the strip club with greasy hair and a toothy smile. "I'm ready for my drink," he said as he laughed with his belly.

The back door has a few signs on it, including "RESTROOM" and "NO MINORS ALLOWED" and "NO DRINKS FROM EL GRILLO ALLOWED IN THE BAR" and frequently swings open, wafting a breeze of cigarette smoke, whistling, cheering and clapping throughout, reminding the patrons of their proximity to a strip club.

I was going to get up the nerve to go use the restroom, since I haven't ever been to a strip club and I thought it would be an interesting adventure to write about it. However, my bladder was not that full and I'm not quite brave enough to go into a place like Mary's Club by myself on a Saturday afternoon, with a stomach full of burrito.

Great burritos, great people watching. Atmosphere - nice, but punctuated with cheers and whistles from men that are way more greasy than the food.