Donate to a Great Cause for the Holidays

You may have noticed the little box on the right side of my blog with a thermometer and a percentage listed. It's a way that you can help end hunger all over the world. I just learned about this organization, Heifer, from a co-worker. Heifer gives animals to needy families, teaches them how to care for the animals and use them for sustainability. I thought it would be cool if a blog about food could actually help end world hunger. Even if it's just for one person or family. For more information, go to www.heifer.org, or follow the link right over there >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>.

Screen Door (2337 E Burnside)

On their PBS cooking show, Caprial and John Pence often talk about what it is like to be a chef and the skills you need to be a chef, such as flipping food in a saute pan, mincing garlic sans a garlic press, and grabbing meat off the grill with your fingers ever so gingerly. One thing they talk about a lot is the ability that a chef should have to season food with salt.

Chelsea and I went to Screen Door, a restaurant boasting a Northwest twist on Southern food, this weekend - we were excited to go because we had read so many good reviews. The first thing we ordered, the mushroom beignets, were interesting - doughnut like on the outside, but filled with a mass of cheese, perhaps gruyere, and mushrooms. Despite the opportunity of such a combination, they were bland. We sprinkled salt on them, but it wasn't enough to fix the problem.

I was disappointed when my meal came to find the same problem with the spaghetti squash, flavored only with unsalted butter and my cornbread, though moist, was clearly made without any salt. The collard greens were excellent, though. (They were cooked with a lot of bacon. Salty bacon.) My duck hash was good, only after a significant amount of salt and pepper were added.

The service was flavored just right. Excellent, prompt service and a waiter that would even engage in a faux argument with a customer regarding the Civil War and the horrors of those damn yankees.

I probably won't go back to Screen Door - there's just something about food that's not flavored enough with the basic elements, like salt and pepper. I don't want to pay $15 for a dinner that is missing the base of all good food.

A Taste of Mexico (716 NW 21st)

Before we went to Meet Me in St. Louis, I took my grandmother to a Mexican restaurant on NW 21st. It is beautiful, with brightly colored walls, beautiful framed prints of Mexico and a real sunflower in a vase on each table.

Salvador is a short-ish man, with glasses and a thick accent. He tells the couple behind us that he used to work in a restaurant in San Francisco and just moved up here to open this restaurant. He tells me that his favorite dishes are the Tortilla Soup and the Enchiladas Mole. Grandma orders the Tortilla Soup. I order the Enchiladas.

While we are waiting for our food, Salvador brings us a bright red square plate, with a small handful of multi-colored chips and a spoonful of bean dip with cojita cheese on top. Sometimes I eat the chips and salsa at Mexican restaurants in a frenzy - this is not the case here. Each bite is wonderful and full of intense flavor and creamy texture and I enjoy it not only before my meal, but throughout.

Grandma's soup is served in a beautiful wide white bowl, the soup red, with blue tortilla strips, chunks of avocado and sour cream. She says she is not hungry. She eats every bit of soup, without stopping.

My enchiladas look like Juliette Binoche's inventions in the movie Chocolat. Topped with fresh, crunchy lettuce and tomatoes, the deep, rich flavor of the sauce marries the shredded steak perfectly. They are beautiful enchiladas.

We still have 45 minutes to kill. Grandma orders Flan with Kahlua and Rum. I order crepes with caramel and chocolate. We watch through the glass divider by our table as the chef puts the whip cream on both desserts. We take up at least another half an hour slowly eating the sweetness put before us. Perfect.

Salvador does a good job. Go get A Taste of Mexico.

Cinema 21 (616 NW 21st Ave)

My grandmother and I don't really get along too well. We really have only two things that we can talk about: food and old movies. She has an enviable collection of movie memorabilia from the early years, including an autographed picture of Jean Harlow. I have my own collection of pictures, two with autographs, though not as significant as Jean Harlow.

Yesterday, my grandmother and I went to Cinema 21 in NW Portland to see Meet Me In St. Louis on the big screen. The 1944 film introduced the song Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas to the Christmas season and also garnered one of its young stars, Margaret O'Brien, a special Oscar for outstanding child actress at only 7 years old.

Michael Clark, a film-obsessed video store owner in Portland, sponsored the event yesterday and brought Margaret O'Brien, one of his good friends, to the theater to screen the movie with us and then do a question and answer session. (If you haven't been to Michael Clark's video store, Movie Madness, it is a must see Portland museum. Costumes, props, scripts from movies throughout the decades are mounted in display cases all over the store. One could spend hours in there just looking at the displays and then spend hours again looking at the rare movies.)

We watched the movie, singing along quietly under our breaths, and I cried during the Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas scene. It is a beautifully done movie.

After the film, Margaret O'Brien graciously answered questions from the audience, and told stories of her childhood, sneaking out with Natalie Wood late and night to go visit James Dean, playing games with Judy Garland and flirting with Clint Eastwood. It was like listening to fairy tales. These people have never seemed real to me, I think because most of them are dead. But yesterday I met a real live movie star from the 1940s. She was lovely. (Blurry person in red is me, blurry person in black, Margaret O'Brien.)

Cinema 21 often shows old movies, independent and international films. It is a pretty big theater, with a balcony and they just got all new seats, which are more like recliners. Another thing to note: though drinkholders are absent, there a ton of leg room in front of each seat for you to stretch out, or put your drink on the floor. They have curtains over the screen, which dramatically open before the film starts, just like in the old days.

My grandmother and I had a great time living nostalgically for an afternoon. Rent Meet Me In St. Louis this Christmas, instead of one of the old stand-bys. You'll end up singing along. I know you will. You might even cry.

Salvador Molly's (1573 SW Sunset Blvd)

Molly's Super-Cure-All, 5-star-love, Garlic Chicken Lime Soup. It sounds like a concoction you would buy from that street vendor in Pete's Dragon who can't say Pass-a-ma-quady, and I must admit, I was kind of hoping for such a miraculous soup that would cure all ailments. I only ate about an hour ago, but so far, it seems to be working. I came home and checked my email and not only did I win a million dollars in a contest, but I have 5 dates lined up next week and I just got a voice mail from a local radio station telling me that I have won a trip to Greece.

Okay maybe I was exaggerating a little. But there was a tad bit of snow on the ground when I got home and I didn't get any bills in the mail. Close enough. Plus, I got to eat a whole bunch of peanuts at Salvador Molly's and throw the shells on the ground. Life is beautiful. Eat Garlic Chicken Lime Soup.

Dublin Pub (6821 SW Beaverton Hillsdale Hwy)

Terrible food. Bad service. You will lose your hearing. But guess what? Tonight I was an uninhibited (mostly) dancing girl. The most fun in the whole world. How great is that. And it was Jen's birthday. Her 30th. It was her second of three birthday parties. The Dublin Pub was host to me coming out of my shell and dancing like crazy all night long. Or at least several times all night long. The Boys Next Door (very loud cover band) killed my hearing, but enticed me to keep dancing. I want to go again! Happy Birthday Jen!

Addendum: I went back. Their chips and salsa are actually really good. It is more fun to go and dance than to sit and listen. So if you go, go to dance and dance a lot. Go with dancing friends. If you don't have any dancing friends, call me and I'll go with you!

Imbibe (2229 SE Hawthorne Blvd )

Last Saturday I bought the biggest earrings I have ever purchased. Long dangling. HOOPS. Hoops that get caught in between my chin and my shoulder when I turn my head. I wanted earrings that I could wear OUT. Real going out. Heels. Trendy capris. As it happened, some of my friends were going to Imbibe on Saturday night to listen to a band play. Imbibe, which previously looked too intimidating for my kind of people, suddenly seemed within reach, now that I had giant hoops and heels to bolster my confidence.

My sister and I got there before our friends. We were seated pretty near the band, which was warming up and fixing all of their technical difficulties. The waitress checked our IDs a second time, in case we were under 21. Flattering.

The couch in the corner, off to the side of the stage, made for a living room like atmosphere. Chandeliers that looked like flea market finds shimmered dim light over the tables, and the band started to play.

A cookie-cutter girl with a low-back black top, started dancing right in front of the band. She swirled and twirled and thrusted and floated. Another sexy blonde joined her and they began to dance together. The sexy blonde sat down after a couple of songs and then a man, clearly over 50, with his shirt open, began to dance with the cookie-cutter.

Smiling and twisting and gyrating, the cookie-cutter girl danced all night. Sometimes by herself and sometimes with others. She had no shame, no embarassment. She had a good time. I think I was a little envious. That will never be me. Not in real life. But maybe sometime when I'm on vacation and visiting a bar where I don't know anyone, I will get into character and play the part of the dancing girl.