Yes, it rained when it was inconvenient and was only sunny when it didn't particularly matter. Yes, there were several down-and-out scenes I didn't really need my cloistered daughter to witness (including a Ronnie Dobbs-esque dramedy between some drunk and airport security as we were leaving). And, yes, the family headcold squashed our biking plans. But that bohemian burp-up of a city was just the respite we needed after a long, dull Orange County summer.
We had the benefit of two back-bending hosts who took us to nearly every part of town — from the Oregon Zoo to Mt. Tabor, hipster boutiques to a truly super market. Behold, the list of my Top 9 sites seen.
9. Here's the oatmeal brulée and nutty bunny smoothie we ordered for my daughter at Gravy. Despite gorging myself on my own perfect Mount St. Helens-sized biscuit drenched in country gravy and huge mug of jasmine pearls tea, I still managed to gobble up what she so foolishly wasted. Cool art on the walls, a cool waitress, a bookcase stocked with kid-distracting picture books and great Mississippi Ave. neighbors (Black Wagon, The Fresh Pot, etc.) earned this place a gold star.
8. Yes, cupcakes are passé by now. But after seeing a crew of goo-faced smiling kids walk out of Saint Cupcake, my daughter pressed her face on the storefront window and began wordlessly pounding the glass like a zombie. We had little choice but to go in. If you can stand in this festive, miniature-filled shop without letting out even the most inaudible squee, you may possibly be a jerk. We ordered cupcakes and they were extra on-point. So many who've cashed in on the cupcake trend forget that they are actually supposed to taste as good as they look, if not way better. This place knows what they're doing. Oh, and there's a boutique in the back, too. Hello! Noun carries a well-chosen selection of vintage homegoods and handmade jewelry. It's like a small, non-mall version of Anthropologie. Plus, their slogan ("A person's place for things") had be giggling all the way down the street.
7. The service at the Alberta location of local French chain Petite Provence was so warm and friendly that I could've stayed there all day. I had savory french toast with grilled ham and asparagus and gruyere sauce. Slammin'! Oh, and the huge bowl of cardamom rum latté was nearly enough to lay me out flat. I never even made my way over to the sprawling glass case filled with pastries and breads, so I obviously have to make my way back there.
6. Bella Faccia Pizzeria is not much on ambiance. In fact, it's very much like a no-frills New York pizza parlor. And that's why I loved it. That, and the fact that the pizza was crispy, thin New York-style perfection. And let's not forget the good, fresh salad, a nice pitcher of local beer and a huge scoop of some crazy-good key lime pie gelato from Staccato Gelato. Yes.
5. The onset of rain made caffeine very necessary. At tiny, little Bakery Bar I found the perfect macchiato, which was the first/best of Portland's famed coffee that I'd find on the whole trip (added bonus: the banana bread with chocolate ganache).
4. We were only in town four days, yet we ended up in Grasshopper twice. The over-priced kids clothes in the front of the store had me feeling skeptical, but the far more affordable toys scattered all about helped ease me into this place (so many under-$10 options!). There's a very inviting, hands-on set-up and even the bathroom was thoughtfully planned. The staff was super helpful, too. When I discovered they didn't carry what I was looking for, one employee wrote out step-by-step directions to someplace that would. On the next visit, another voluntarily jotted down some notable kid's book titles for me. Our total haul included some of their vast Playmobil stock, very hip stickers by arty French toy brand Djeco and a copy of The Secret Lives of Princesses.
3. Man, was I under-dressed for Multnomah Falls. This is the second tallest natural waterfall after Niagara Falls and, even on a nice day, the surrounding area is wet. It should be noted that I've lived in mostly arid climes since I was 17, so I don't have any of that performance fleece, wind-blocking gear that seemingly everybody there but me was wisely wearing. My suede moccasins weren't useful, neither was the dainty Splendid 3/4 sleeve open cardigan I relied on as a "jacket" on that chilly day. So, you have a city slicker without a slicker, stuck in the middle of real-live, actual nature. Though this is an equation for lousiness, I totally loved it. The beauty of the falls was second only to the site of my daughter splashing about the trail in her froggy galoshes, marveling at the giant moss-covered trees.
2. Powell's City of Books — The next time I am in Portland, I will right my wrongs and apportion far more than a piddly hour at this bookstore. Ridiculous. I loved it so much and I only saw a fraction of it. In addition to an armload of used books (including this Strawberry Shortcake cookbook I loved as a kid), we snagged a copy of the new J.otto Seibold, which isn't even on Amazon for another few weeks!
1. The Bye and Bye is the bar my friend Liam owns with a few good friends. It is freakin' lovely. Weird to say about a bar, right? According to a Portland law, bars have to serve food and some (though, I don't think all) are open to minors until 8 p.m. The whole family headed over to the bar for some delicious vegan plates (yes, for real). They have cozy seating indoors and out and a design-scheme that is so very un-bar-ish — great art, modern colors, no squawking flatscreen TVs, no stale jukebox...my husband even gave the bathroom a good report. It doesn't even have that gross bar smell. I mean, how many bars do you go to and find people reading novels and working on their laptops while they sip? If you go, get the vegan grilled cheese. Believe me. Oh, and tell Liam I said hi.
Edit: I'd hoped to round it out to an even 10 by putting our hotel on this list. It was an old grammar school converted into a hotel — complete with hardwood floors, current and retro films showing in the theater and a cafeteria-turned-restaurant. All over the building, there was actual school memorabilia and our room was once part of the woodshop classroom. Alas, staying there turned out to be as fitful as sleeping in an actual functioning school, which is to say, noisy and uncomfortable.
