A Proper Weekend Adventure

We had intended to go to Little Red Bike Cafe. But they were closed. So we kept driving down Lombard and ended up in St. Johns. It's a small-townish part of Portland that was really quiet on a Sunday afternoon. We parked and then meandered down the street in search of a place to lunch.

We ended up at Proper Eats, a vegan market and cafe. It smelled so good inside - like fresh bread. And it looked all organic and homemade. It was beautiful outside, so we grabbed one of the empty picnic tables.

Right behind us, a couple and two kids. The woman was trying to make friends with the kids. She, in her perfectly matching black and white skirt and blouse, was trying really hard. Her fish-netted legs were stacked into a pair of peep-toe black and white strappy sandals, which she was tapping on the cement with impatience. In between joking with the kids, tossing her bleached blonde hair and making comments to her rather silent male companion, she would sigh and say loudly, "What is taking them so long with our food? We have been here for an hour!" Then she would start playing with the kids again, in a kind of forced manner. Finally. "You go in there and you tell them that we are leaving if we don't get our food in five minutes." The meek husband hesitantly agreed and disappeared inside for about 30 seconds. "They said that ours is the next order." "Well who did you talk to?" "The waitress that was just out here." "Well that's not going to do us any good. She doesn't know anything."

Two more minutes of awkward socializing with children. "I can tell when you are mad at daddy," one of the little girls says. "Your eyebrow goes like this," making a face. Still no food. More sighs and tapping.

(Oh - at this point, we had been waiting about a half hour for our food. But we were sort of caught up in the drama around us, so we kind of forgot about it.) More toe tapping. "Honey," the hesitant husband said, "why don't you go in there and ask them one more time about the food." The wife jumped up. "Fine. And then we're leaving. You guys figure out where you want to go."

In the meantime, a teenage girl walks out of the restaurant, talking on her cell phone and carrying her shoes in one hand, "Mom! Mom! Will you listen to me please! You don't understand!" She walked around the corner.

The wife came stomping out of the restaurant, followed by an aplogetic waitress. "I'm really sorry. I'm not sure what happened." "You know what? It's not your fault. But there are people inside who were not there when we got here and now they are taking their leftovers home. This is ridiculous." "Okay, well there's a line at the cashier, so don't worry about the beers. They're on the house. Don't even worry about it." The step-family walked off, with the wife muttering all the while.

My sister and I played analyst. "She totally tells him what to do," I said, within earshot of the waitress who was clearing off their table. The waitress started laughing. "Yeah, just because he buys you fake boobs doesn't mean that you can tell him what to do." Now that was funny.

Oh our appetizers arrived. Mushrooms with sea salt and breadcrumbs. Delicious. Until we saw the hair. Then our other food arrived. "So, here's your food. And it's on the house. Everything is on the house. We had a total meltdown. It will never take that long to get your food again." Score. Sort of. If you don't count that we had to wait 45 minutes for a salad with browning lettuce, mushrooms with hair in them and a sandwich.

I want to like this place, but I'm afraid my appetite is ruined. I hope they straighten out their kitchen messes. It was a hoot though. I'd go back just for the entertainment.

Blossoming Lotus (925 NW Davis)

The problem: Had crappy day. Cannot eat when sad. The thoughts that occupy my head are these: Sadness and chocolate. Sadness and cheese. Sadness and avocados.

The avoidance strategy: Shoe shopping. Clothes shopping. Pedicure. Manicure. Haircut.

Then what: I have to eat. It is absolutely necessary.

Solution: Eat healthy. No chocolate. No cheese. But some seriously beautiful avocados. Blossoming Lotus. I get the Southwest Bowl with hearty brown rice, hot vegetarian chili with something that tasted like meat but wasn't actually made of animal, steamed greens (kale, I think) creamy avocados and sour cream. Kristin gets curry with rice. We watch yoga types hugging and bonding while we eat and discuss (quietly, at the request of the sign on the table) why we love eating healthy.

Happy Ending: I am full. I am now educated on living (raw) foods. (Thank you, waiter with blonde beard.) I am motivated to take yoga and bond with fellow yoga types. I am confident having eaten a hearty, healthy and delicious meal and having spent lots of money on myself that things will cheer up brilliantly.

Why this is good for you: December happy hour with things like Live Nachos, Cashew Hummus from 8pm - 10pm. How often do you eat things like nachos and not feel guilty? This is your chance, my friend!

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.