Living Room Theaters (341 SW Tenth Ave.)

I took a little nap when I got home from work and woke up just at 6:30. I checked my face for mascara smears and pillow marks, brushed my teeth and then headed out the door for dinner and a movie. In one place. By myself.

I got to the Living Room Theaters around 6:40, ten minutes before my movie (Broken English) was to start. Drats. The sign on the ticket window said: "To enjoy in theater service, please place your order 30 minutes prior to the start of the movie." I was hungry hungry. Not popcorn-and-a-soda-and-I'll-get-something-substantial-later-hungry. This simply would not do.

I hesitantly asked the server if it was possible to order some food before the movie started. I told her that I wanted the ham and cheese sandwich ("gourmet ham and gruyere cheese with red lettuce, tomatoes, avocado, sprouts and a Dijon aioli wrapped in our own bread"). She said that it could probably be done pretty quickly and to go ahead and go in the theater and she would bring it to me before the movie started. I also ordered a specialty drink called the Charlie Chaplin. Cranberry juice with something sparkling and sweet. Mmmmm.

I walked into the small theater, Charlie Chaplin in one hand, purse swaying in my other hand and I felt like I was at a cocktail hour. "Welcome to our living room!" The older gentleman in the theater said loudly as he and his wife laughed and motioned for me to sit down. No one else was in the theater. Thick, comfortable seats, some with tables in front of them and even a footstool or two. If this was going to be a boring movie, I was going to fall asleep, quite comfortably and the $9 entry price would be worth it.

Just as the first preview started to flicker on the screen, the waitress found me and brought me an artistically presented gourmet sandwich. The sandwich was divine - savory, melty, sprouty (in a good way) and crunchy. I haven't even experienced the digital technology the theater is known for and I already want to come back. Just for the seats and the food.

The movie was good, until the end, when they liberally and quite without apology ripped off the ending of one of my favorite movies, Before Sunset. I can't believe that Parker Posey and Zoe Cassavetes didn't know it was a rip off. And that is unforgiveable. Write your own ending. Geesh. Don't pollute the same words with your own cheap-independent-film version. Because in the end, you won't stack up to it. No way. Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy will always win.

Sanborn's (3200 SE Milwaukie Ave)

The Portland-y family sitting in front of us was typically adorable. Mom with cute short haircut and over-the-shoulder leather purse, no makeup. New baby that was a little fussy. Two year old in a high chair, more interested in checking out the people eating next to them than he was in his food. "He likes to flirt," the dad, in khaki pants and an oatmeal sweater, said to me with a smile as the little boy giggled with the back of his hand covering his face in pretend embarrassment.

I was actually more interested in watching the little boy than I was in eating. His precocious unintentional winks and flirty giggles were so much more interesting than eggs and toast. But Chelsea and I had come to Sanborn's to test out their breakfast, so eventually, I had to stop staring at the little boy and order food.

I ordered two poached eggs, whole wheat toast and potatoes. Chelsea ordered blueberry pancakes. My eggs were perfect. My toast was cold. But it is kind of hard to keep toast warm without drying it out. So I won't hold that against them. They did bring me a lovely selection of 6 jams to choose from. I had raspberry. One of the things I love in life is creamy salty butter swirled with sweet sugary jam on a piece of toast or a biscuit. It's like someone giving me a hug.

I had a bite of Chelsea's pancakes and they were beautiful. The blueberries were on the bottom of the pancake, exactly like I like them - wholly in tact, sprinkled on the pancake after one side is already cooked. And when you bite into them, the blueberry juice squirts into your mouth with a little blue love.

The family in front of us set their credit card out for the waitress when she came by. "Oh you know what? Someone in the restaurant just paid for your meal," she said, "They were admiring your family." And she handed back their credit card. The mom and dad were clearly touched.

I don't know who paid for the family's breakfast, but it was sweet, don't you think? That someone would admire a family and just on that basis alone pay for their meal. I hope that sometime I think of doing something like that in the moment. Like paying for the person in line behind you at the drive through. Or paying for a movie ticket for a stranger at the movie theater. Just because. Just because people are nice and good and children are cute and old ladies are sweet.

The family gathered their things, told the waitress thanks, "and please tell them thank you for us" and then said that they would be back next weekend for breakfast. I admire this family too. Tradition, food, children, gratitude. All of this and a Volvo too.

Anonymous generosity is cool and it makes me happy just to be a witness to it. Next time, I will be the instigator.

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.

Pix Patisserie (3901 N. Williams)

I have three sisters. We don't really get together on purpose very often. We all have pretty strong personalities, which can be really fun. Or not. Depending. On Saturday, we had our first ever sisters night out. We tried it last year, but someone brought their baby and someone else invited mom. So that doesn't really count.

Anyway, this year we actually made it to a restaurant together. We ate dinner at Nutshell, then, we walked one block away to Pix Patisserie. I've been to Pix a million times, though not to the one on N. Williams. The waiter there was much like the coffee guy who worked at Dean and Deluca in Felicity, do you remember him? Anyway, this guy was kind of stocky and wore cute glasses and sort of danced to the music as he was waiting for us to decide what we wanted. The atmosphere at Pix is one of a kind and makes you want to wear red shoes and black lace and dance with a flower in your teeth. At least that's what it does to me. And, I am kind of weird.

I had a lovely pear rosemary tart. One of my sisters had a fruit tart and the other two shared a beautiful chocolate tower of love. That's not the actual name, but that's what it looked like.

We finished off the night watching Hugh Grant in Music and Lyrics, a truly silly movie. But a totally great thing to watch after chocolate and a sisters night out.

Good food, good chocolate and a good sisters' night out talking about the first time we each got asked out, my sister Erika's babies, and fun adventures we've had in our lives.

Dying to hear more about it? Me neither. Not right now. I could maybe hear more about a giant chocolate tower of love, though. Perhaps the dream fairy will help me out with that one. I think I'm going to go to bed now.

P.S. I am going to Ghiradelli Square in San Francisco in a few weeks. Maybe that will be comparable to a giant chocolate tower of love. Should I get my hopes up?

Split (7335 Southwest Bridgeport Road, Tigard)

I met a friend over at Bridgeport Village (one of my friends likes to refer to it as Bitchport Village, you know all the hoity-toity-ness and unabashed snobbery in a shopping mall) to have dinner and see a movie last night. We tried out the new wine bar/small plates establishment Split. Service was good. Food was excellent and fairly priced. I had olives with crostini and bean puree and Amy had fried zucchini. Both were really good.

I don't love Bridgeport Village because I always feel like a sleezebag compared to all the Ann-Taylor-Loft-clad women sauntering around with their matching heels and bags. But it does have a good theater and now it has Split, which is a new restaurant that is not a chain. I know. Stop it. It's unbelievable.

Le Provence Bistro and Bakery (15964 Boones Ferry Road, Lake Oswego)

After a long massage on Saturday morning, I sauntered into Le Provence in Lake Oswego to get a muffin. The line at the counter was long. There was no line for seating. So I sat.

I was craving the Eggs Benedicte, which is on a croissant and historically has been extremely filling and satisfying. The service was very fast. So fast that my Eggs Benedicte was (is it was or were?) cold. Why was it cold? It was strange. I mean it was less than 5 minutes before they brought it out. Did they accidentally make an extra one? Did someone send it back? Don't know. But it was cold.

I love Le Provence. But I do not love cold eggs. Also, for a place that is so uppity in price and location, I think it's odd to have a basket of gold-wrapped butter and made-100-years-ago jam. Don't you? Why wouldn't they bring you fresh butter on your plate and a choice of fresh jams and jellies?

Also, the potatoes were especially oily this time. What happened to you, Le Provence? Were you just having a bad day? I understand. But snap out of it, will you? There are people who need a good breakfast and cold and oily just doesn't do the trick!

Bite of Oregon (Waterfront Park)

Any kind of festival in Waterfront Park usually sounds like a good time to me. Especially when it involves food (go figure!). So the Bite of Oregon always draws me in, even though my past experiences haven't been "Oh my gosh I had the BEST time at the Bite this weekend!", but more like "Yeah, the Bite was okay."

This year was no exception. I'm not sure why I go and expect to have really good food, when the restaurants there include Burgerville and Mo's. Not that there's anything wrong with Burgerville. It's just that paying $7 to get in the gates and then another $7 or $8 for food I can get anywhere in Portland - it's just not the greatest deal, you know? And Mo's. I won't even go there.

I ended up eating at a barbeque place. Jackie's BBQ. Looked good and the line was long, so I figured it must be tasty. I ordered the 4 rib dinner. "Where is your restaurant at?" I wanted to make sure I knew, in case the food was really good and I wanted some when this giant food festival wasn't going on. "Oh we don't have one. We only do this event every year." I just assumed that all the food places there also had a restaurant. Because why would it be called the Bite of Oregon if it was really just a bite of carnival vendors? Huh. I'll have to think about that one. The food was eh okay, for $12:

The ribs were bland until I squirted some extra sauce on them - then they were pretty good, but the sauce was cold, so it kind of made the ribs cold. And the corn was okay. I mean it's hard to mess up corn on the cob. But it wasn't warm either, and they had poured a mess of melted butter on it. Maybe the fact that it wasn't from a real restaurant kind of bugged me and tainted my perspective.

So if I had never been to Oregon before and I came to the Bite of Oregon to see what this great state had to offer and I happened to eat at Mo's or Greek Cusina, or even Burgerville - I would think to myself: "You should open up a restaurant and show these people what a REAL bite is." Then I would realize that I have no money and no sugar daddy and would go back to Arkansas or wherever I was from and make myself some good mashed potatoes and barbeque chicken and be satisfied that my family thinks I am an awesome cook, so who cares. Yeah. Exactly. I can cook for them and show them what good food is, just in case they ever come to Oregon and forget.

Anyway.

After we ate, we headed over to see the Nu Shooz Orchestra, which Kristin was excited to see, since they were one of her favorites from the 80s. I have to admit that although their songs sounded vaguely familiar, I don't really remember them. They were entertaining enough though as were the one or two groupies who were dancing.

As we walked along the waterfront over to the streetcar, the fireworks started going off. I love fireworks on the river. I think these were even better than the ones on the Fourth at the Blues Festival. There was a little family sitting on one of the benches, their smiles as bright as the fireworks as the parents pointed to the sky, as thrilled as their kids. Oh it made me happy. No professional photogs with me this time, but even my little camera phone caught the brightness.