There is a punk band I'm really into called "Broadway Calls". One of my favorite songs by them is a tune called "Back to Oregon", which contains the line "I want to run back to Oregon, Fall every tree that blocks me from my street, Up in the hills watch the city lights, I won't feel home until I have Portland unger my feet" Now I understand that when one is in a band, or any situation that causes them to travel a great deal, homesickness is an inevitable feeling. However, I always thought, Oregon? Really? This is becuase I am an overstimulated, closet elitest, native New Yorker who sees little reason to leave a city that offers the freedom to purchase a panini at 4:00am if one feels even the slightest urge. After seeing all these other wonderful places, what could this semi-major left-coast city possibly offer in terms of fulfillment.* I found out this weekend.
My best friend moved to Portland, OR in September of 2008. This past weekend was the first time I saw him since then. It was a lovely reunion, blah, blah, blah (picutres on my facebook). The only things I knew about portland prior to my trip was the Trailblazers, Chuck Palahniuk, Johnny Marr's residence, and M.Ward. What I found out was that there is an abundance of certain things in Portland: homeless people, pretty girls with chest tattoos, bicycles, politeness and coffee. My friend lives in a 4th story walk up above a hip and bustling coffee shop in the north west section of Portland, rightly named Coffeeshop NW, which apparently has won much acclaim, and for good reason. The way the coffee there is made, is wonderfully representative of the overall mood. Not everyone's in a hurry, people take the time to wait for pedestrians, crossing signals, and their coffee. The craft of the barista is not one of the expedient monotony I'm used to, but rather a more detailed and attentive artisinal method producing almost a couture latte. I think of it as being analagous to a private school with smaller class sizes tht allow the teacher to give more time to his students. Even the coffee at the diner-esque establishments was delicious. Robust, strong & dark (often the way I am also described).
I've drawn a proportioned conclusion about this. People from the northwest are accustom to a time invested, detailed cup of deliciocity and must come to New York only to realize the epic fail that sits in their cup. This must be the same way I feel when I'm daring enough to try pizza & bagels (chinese food too) outside of NYC.
Portland is a young town. Almost remeniscent of a college town for those who have left college and are stuck in post adolescent purgatory. One of the advantages of that is cheap food served from the back of a truck. Portland is full of parking lots which are home to several different themed food trucks. (Similar to the greese trucks in Rutgers for those of my fellow fat cats out there) There is Mexican, Thai, Japanese, German, Pizza and I'm sure tons more than I was able to encounter. I spent the better part of my appetite on $1.50 tacos filled with seasoned beef and pastor (spicy shopped pork). Luckily this left room in my budget for the more overpriced yet must try culinary spots. Namely the famous VooDoo doughnuts. I was told a legend of a doughnut which was wrapped in bacon. When I arrived, either, they didn't make them that morning, they were sold out, or someother ridiculous reason that prevented my mouth from having both bacon and frosting in it that morning. Regardless, I am not one to complain. I selected the doughnut with everyone's favorite cut-the-roof-of-your-mouth cereal. Needless to say I was not what you would call unhappy. (Although, I did have some remorse that I didn't go with the c & b's). Calories and fat were not a worry for me (not that they ever really are), becuase I knew that I would end up biking at least 3 horus more those days.
All in all, Portland is a wonderful city. It was great seeing my friend and I would love to return there some day. However I am glad to be back in the east villiage where there is less eye contact and no law that says I can't buy beer after 2:30. But now when I listen to that song I think to myself. Portland? Really? ... Hell yeah.
*the song is actually about his girlfriend, who he eventually left the band to spend more time with.