The title of this post is literal.
I am in Portland with the sole purpose of eating. It’s not the only reason I’ve flown a couple hours north from Southern California: while I’ve visited/driven through many of the states, I’ve never been to the Pacific Northwest; Portland is the home of Powell’s, the largest independent used and new bookstore in the world; I’m thrilled for an opportunity to rack up Jet Blue points, especially when I can fly out of Long Beach; and I’m a sometimes wannabe hipster. But, goal number one for my quick trip is to please my belly.
My co-eaters and I arrived late after a long day of work and mommy duties (I still had to shuttle my youngest to dance class before heading to the airport – I should probably check to see if someone picked her up).
After a smooth landing at PDX and a cheap ($2.50) ride downtown to our hotel, the pickings were slim for a late night feast. We opted for Huber’s Cafe, which bills itself as Portland’s oldest restaurant. From their late night happy hour menu, we ordered calamari, bay shrimp, nachos, seared ahi, and spinach-artichoke dip.
But visitors and locals alike know of Huber’s Iced Spanish Coffee, a $10 concoction of Kahlua, Bacardi 151, triple sec, and coffee that is set ablaze right at your table.
It was just the kind of show I was looking for to launch my PDX adventure. So far, I’m Drinking Portland more than eating it.
But that’s quite alright – I’ve got two more days, a few pairs of stretchy pants, and a suitcase full of aluminum foil and Tupperware.
Look out, Portland. Dianderthal is here.
411 SW 3rd