i can't find my credit card and all i want is a little pho.
yes.... i am hungover
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Carafe
fuckin' bomb happy hour, yo
Hung out with Alexis and Hambino in celebration of Ham's engagement. I had some greasy escargot swimming in garlic-hazelnut butter. Spongy, with a little bite. A pair of deviled eggs, and braised veal tongue. It was all good and all really bad for me. I think i was fairly unimpressed with the veal tongue though, it seemed like the braised all texture out of it. I am surprised Ham ate anything at all. The croque monsieur took care of my picky eater. This brief because it was two months ago, but worthy of some sort of mention. The happy hour is CHEAP. It was a sunny day and a peculiar location, next to a parking garage across the street from the Keller Auditorium. I had to take a key to the parking lot restroom to pee-- almost a deal breaker.
Afterwards, we went to the Gilt club to drink and pontificate, er gossip, with Broyles. Drank a bottle of something good and chain smoked on their patio. MMm
Hung out with Alexis and Hambino in celebration of Ham's engagement. I had some greasy escargot swimming in garlic-hazelnut butter. Spongy, with a little bite. A pair of deviled eggs, and braised veal tongue. It was all good and all really bad for me. I think i was fairly unimpressed with the veal tongue though, it seemed like the braised all texture out of it. I am surprised Ham ate anything at all. The croque monsieur took care of my picky eater. This brief because it was two months ago, but worthy of some sort of mention. The happy hour is CHEAP. It was a sunny day and a peculiar location, next to a parking garage across the street from the Keller Auditorium. I had to take a key to the parking lot restroom to pee-- almost a deal breaker.
Afterwards, we went to the Gilt club to drink and pontificate, er gossip, with Broyles. Drank a bottle of something good and chain smoked on their patio. MMm
Friday, June 19, 2009
Rogue Ales Brewery and Pub
You can take the girl out of Beaverton, but you can't take the Beaverton out the girl.
bear with me friends, its been a few months and I'm rusty.
I have been trying to run away from my Beaverton roots. When i meet new people at bars, or where i work they often ask me "where are you from?". As vaguely as possible i reply "near Portland". total cop out. Portland has quite the hipster stigma about the 'burbs. you do not know how many times I've heard someone say "oh totally LO", "Gresham this", "Beaverton that", "of course she grew up in the West Hills".
I became self conscious in college when I realized my heavily branded Abercrombie & Fitch wifebeater suddenly became uncool. Mall branding was not status-quo, but individuality was(Still up for argument, ahem hipsters). Portland: the city were the geeks are the cool kids. So I traded my American Eagles for American Apparels, and went to this place called the bins. (yes, I am a tool)
I'm going to be honest. As much as I say I hate my Beaverton upbringing, that I think anybody who stays in Beaverton is a loser, I totally love the Tron. The Bins are gross, and i think fixed gears suck. I know I'm not supposed to but I LIKE shopping at Target, dammit.
Most of all I love my childhood friends. While some may have explored new horizons, many have remained in Beaverton. They vehemently talk about how much they love it and will never leave. My friends, although, have remained in stagnant waters for the past six years. Rather than growing up, they have remained man-children. It has been the same weekend party, working the same part-time(now full-time manager!) job. and apart from the occasional trek to Portland City Grill, Henry's Tavern, or Dirty they remain rooted in their comfortable labyrinthine city.
I am not above traveling to Beaverton for the occasional barbeque, birthday party, or perhaps some Korean shabu shabu. But I am definitely not going to travel an hour into the burbs to smoke weed, and listen to the new Murs album.
But there is one way I can lure them into the city.
BEER
Hometown boys are always a sucker for some really good, super local beer. Luckily for portland, we have handfuls of them scattered everywhere. My old friend, Mikey, was in beaverton taking a break from his military base. As tradition we go to The Rogue Ale House and drink their delicious beers, and we drag our other friends out too.
Rogue has some wonderful beers. The Hazelnut Brown Nectar is my favorite. Thick, nutty, and hints of chocolate. I never have considered myself interested in beer. It was always the means to an end, but hand me a pint of that and I'll be whispering sweet nothings to my inanimate friend. I really dig on the unpretentious vibe that they have in contrast to Deschutes' over kitschy woodwork and Bridgeport's severely modern design. It's T-shirts and beer bottles, and a pub really should be nothing more.
The food however. The food.
Now, above I just stated how much I really liked Rogue. For any sunny day when I am craving a beer, and JUST a beer, this is where you can find me. I'll be damned if i eat their food ever again. Mikey and I had eaten there before and while it was decent (albeit) pub food, its price tag beckoned something of quality. It didn't suck enough for us to not come back, so on this last trip I was extremely disappointed. Maybe this is my fault, I just should have known. Why in the world would you grind up Kobe beef? WHY? and yet, I just had to try the Kobe beef cheese burger, it could only make a burger better... right? Mikey ordered the kobe blue balls pasta (less for his interest in kobe beef, more in his hate for kobe bryant), and our tagalong Grey called us stupid and ordered a normal beef burger.
While my burger was not horrible, it was over done, and honestly unimpressive. I had a bite of the normal burger and I hardly noticed the difference. My friend's meat balls were rubbery and tough and the angel hair pasta was soggy and swimming in a something comparable to a jar of Safeway brand tomato sauce. I usually expect pub fare to be a little sub par. I'm not expecting anything outstanding, but i hope that i am eating something decent. However, If i am spending 16 dollars on a burger it had better blow my mind. It did not. In fact, I'm pretty sure Red Robin produced better and (dare I say it?) more creative slop.
I pulled hairs to get my friends out to Portland, only to offer them overpriced tough Japanese ground beef. I remembered rolling my eyes when Grey complained about the 5.50 pints, and the 16 dollar burgers. While I was trying to explain Kobe beef to him, I was thinking of how uncultured and cheap he was being. In fact, it was I who was being the pretentious bitch, and my dining experience proved it so. Grey smirked at my friend and I as we shelled out cash for a meal neither of us cared to finish, while he happily flung twelve bucks on the table(tip and all) So i did not flinch when it was decided that we were going back to Grey's house to pound some bud light and play Rock Band.
i know that this was not eloquent. sorry, i'm just putting it out there. kobe beef should be a steak. to put it through a meat grinder is like painting a masterpiece and using it to wipe your shit.
(Also, I have discovered the mindblowing goodness of an OBA burger. bomb. dot. com. yea i said it)
bear with me friends, its been a few months and I'm rusty.
I have been trying to run away from my Beaverton roots. When i meet new people at bars, or where i work they often ask me "where are you from?". As vaguely as possible i reply "near Portland". total cop out. Portland has quite the hipster stigma about the 'burbs. you do not know how many times I've heard someone say "oh totally LO", "Gresham this", "Beaverton that", "of course she grew up in the West Hills".
I became self conscious in college when I realized my heavily branded Abercrombie & Fitch wifebeater suddenly became uncool. Mall branding was not status-quo, but individuality was(Still up for argument, ahem hipsters). Portland: the city were the geeks are the cool kids. So I traded my American Eagles for American Apparels, and went to this place called the bins. (yes, I am a tool)
I'm going to be honest. As much as I say I hate my Beaverton upbringing, that I think anybody who stays in Beaverton is a loser, I totally love the Tron. The Bins are gross, and i think fixed gears suck. I know I'm not supposed to but I LIKE shopping at Target, dammit.
Most of all I love my childhood friends. While some may have explored new horizons, many have remained in Beaverton. They vehemently talk about how much they love it and will never leave. My friends, although, have remained in stagnant waters for the past six years. Rather than growing up, they have remained man-children. It has been the same weekend party, working the same part-time(now full-time manager!) job. and apart from the occasional trek to Portland City Grill, Henry's Tavern, or Dirty they remain rooted in their comfortable labyrinthine city.
I am not above traveling to Beaverton for the occasional barbeque, birthday party, or perhaps some Korean shabu shabu. But I am definitely not going to travel an hour into the burbs to smoke weed, and listen to the new Murs album.
But there is one way I can lure them into the city.
BEER
Hometown boys are always a sucker for some really good, super local beer. Luckily for portland, we have handfuls of them scattered everywhere. My old friend, Mikey, was in beaverton taking a break from his military base. As tradition we go to The Rogue Ale House and drink their delicious beers, and we drag our other friends out too.
Rogue has some wonderful beers. The Hazelnut Brown Nectar is my favorite. Thick, nutty, and hints of chocolate. I never have considered myself interested in beer. It was always the means to an end, but hand me a pint of that and I'll be whispering sweet nothings to my inanimate friend. I really dig on the unpretentious vibe that they have in contrast to Deschutes' over kitschy woodwork and Bridgeport's severely modern design. It's T-shirts and beer bottles, and a pub really should be nothing more.
The food however. The food.
Now, above I just stated how much I really liked Rogue. For any sunny day when I am craving a beer, and JUST a beer, this is where you can find me. I'll be damned if i eat their food ever again. Mikey and I had eaten there before and while it was decent (albeit) pub food, its price tag beckoned something of quality. It didn't suck enough for us to not come back, so on this last trip I was extremely disappointed. Maybe this is my fault, I just should have known. Why in the world would you grind up Kobe beef? WHY? and yet, I just had to try the Kobe beef cheese burger, it could only make a burger better... right? Mikey ordered the kobe blue balls pasta (less for his interest in kobe beef, more in his hate for kobe bryant), and our tagalong Grey called us stupid and ordered a normal beef burger.
While my burger was not horrible, it was over done, and honestly unimpressive. I had a bite of the normal burger and I hardly noticed the difference. My friend's meat balls were rubbery and tough and the angel hair pasta was soggy and swimming in a something comparable to a jar of Safeway brand tomato sauce. I usually expect pub fare to be a little sub par. I'm not expecting anything outstanding, but i hope that i am eating something decent. However, If i am spending 16 dollars on a burger it had better blow my mind. It did not. In fact, I'm pretty sure Red Robin produced better and (dare I say it?) more creative slop.
I pulled hairs to get my friends out to Portland, only to offer them overpriced tough Japanese ground beef. I remembered rolling my eyes when Grey complained about the 5.50 pints, and the 16 dollar burgers. While I was trying to explain Kobe beef to him, I was thinking of how uncultured and cheap he was being. In fact, it was I who was being the pretentious bitch, and my dining experience proved it so. Grey smirked at my friend and I as we shelled out cash for a meal neither of us cared to finish, while he happily flung twelve bucks on the table(tip and all) So i did not flinch when it was decided that we were going back to Grey's house to pound some bud light and play Rock Band.
i know that this was not eloquent. sorry, i'm just putting it out there. kobe beef should be a steak. to put it through a meat grinder is like painting a masterpiece and using it to wipe your shit.
(Also, I have discovered the mindblowing goodness of an OBA burger. bomb. dot. com. yea i said it)
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