What’s Going on @ Sillydog Media

And, for the most part, you can eat them. However, just be wary of who gives you advice on where to go. When Matt’s parent’s (whose taste is dubious to begin with) recommended Eloy’s, I was surprised that it was any good at all. And by any good, I mean sort of, in that I’d not spend my own money there. However, the bout of food poisoning I had the next day was enough to keep me from ever going back there again.

Now, you can’t let a restaurant being in a strip mall disuade you, since just about everything in this wretched town is in a strip mall. Picoso, for instance, is in one and the food here was everything that Eloy’s wasn’t, namely fresh and made by real people who cared. I could eat here every day for the rest of my life and be pretty o.k. with it. Then again, I’m a little mental about good Mexican. I talked to the owner, and we agreed that homemade everything was just the only way to fly.

Sadly, the one place I was most impressed with had already been reviewed, so you’ll just have to take my advice and get yo’ self down to Le Crepe Michel. Oh yes! French food in Alba-turkey. Even the soup made me weak in the knees, but it might have been the wine selection, too. Who knows, but it’s a shame you have to drive about 10 miles to get to anything worth a damn in that town. Old Town is otherwise an awful tourist trap next door to the National Atomic Museum (which may be horrifyingly cool - I don’t know - we had to get back for some unknown reason).

A friend of the family took us all out to Thai food in the Nob Hill Neighbourhood upon Matt’s recommendation. Though a somewhat dismal neighbourhood, the interior of Orchid Thai sure looked the part. Smelled good, too. The pad thai was not the best I ever had, but everyone else’s dish turned out good. They key here is to ask for thai hot food, because it was otherwise a bit on the subtle side, unless that’s what you’re looking for. The coconut lemongrass soup was very good. (Read on …)

Or, at least that’s what I like to tell people. Honestly, I don’t seem to be able to hold enough liquor to actually get that drunk, so I tend to be more of a sipper. There are plenty of opportunities to get loaded in St. Paul, too, so you can think of it as a euphamism.

However, if I really did get around to tying one on, I might feel the need to repent on a Sunday morning. You can hardly do so in a nicer church than the Cathedral of St. Paul, right next to my very first apartment in the city over on Marshall Ave.

I mention this because I’ve had a photo of said cathedral included on the Minneapolis Schmap! applicaiton. It’s funny to me that anyone would consider those two cities to be one and the same, though I suppose the good citizens of Ft. Worth feel the same way.

Indeed, the east and west sides of Portland are becoming a bit like different cities. Perhaps they will be someday. Until such time, take care during your bridge crossing and just know that the Eastside Rules!

Portland is blessed with a great many places where you can enjoy wine these days. I recently did a few reviews of those who are either run or cater to women. They also both happen to be near my house, which is even better for me, since we all know the Eastside is the best side. First there’s the Vino Vixens over on Powell, for all your wine drinking pleasure (bring your own dinner or have their snacks) in the most improbably location ever.

Then, there’s the Hip Chicks Do Wine – a real urban wine works where they primarily do the blending of juice and grapes that have been trucked in from elsewhere. While this may sound a bit industrial, it’s actually far less industrial than some of the operations that take place out in the country.

And, why shouldn’t women be all over the wine thing? I suspect women make a great many choices regarding wine purchases, and now that I’ve spent some time in the wine industry, I feel as if I’m qualified to say that my sisters can do a very good job of just about anything from running the vineyard (like Marsha does over at Eola Hills) to blending to pressing to selling and even turning into something even more impressive (aka spirits).

Yep, women are all over the booze these days. And, since I’ve been working here and there at the New Deal Distillery this year, I’m all over it, too. I like being a girl!

One of the best things about my job as a freelance writer is that I can do my own personal research on someone else’s dime, so to speak.  As our plans to move to the south coast get closer to something like a cohesive permaculture design, I need to look into topics I’ve had only an overview knowledge of until now.  Alternative energy (including solar, wind, geothermal and water power) is one of those topics.

To that end, I did a series of keyword content articles on all types of alternative energy a few months ago. I’m very intrigued by water and wind for that area. If there’s one thing Port Orford has in spades it’s wind and water.  As always, keyword content articles can be a bit clunky, but I think I do a pretty good job of working some of the more difficult keywords in, if not seamlessly, not nearly as awkward as they could be.

There’s nothing quite like a liberal coffeehouse – well, I mean honestly, is there another kind? Perhaps in small towns, but they’re a different sort of place altogether. No, Mao’s Little Red Book and high levels of caffeination among young artsy types.

I hung out at coffeeshops because I wasn’t very good at getting out and meeting people otherwise. As luck would have it, i picked a venue that is very natural the habitat of someone like myself. Though I lean more toward the tea these days, I still feel like I owe coffee a debt of gratitude.

I recently reviewed a few coffeehouses – the first one was across where I worked in what a pal of mine called “the oil fields.” Though called the Bipartisan Café, it actually is quite liberal. Something of a kid-friendly shrine to the Democratic Party, really.

Regardless, they do serve good, homemade soup, which is the cornerstone of any civil society. Americans don’t eat nearly as much soup as we should. People from other countries are shocked at how little soup we eat, as a people. No wonder our medical expenses are so high. Lack of soup!

The other place I reviewed is right by my house. Matt and I walk by Legare’s almost every day on our way to New Seasons or Clinton Corner. When we stopped in one day, shortly after they opened, we were impressed w/ their odd selection of serve-yourself tea bags and nice proper tea service. They do also have the black stuff, but it’s very good to have another local tea house I can walk to. Especially one that’s open relatively late.

I review ‘em as I visit them, since I don’t write the nice, long sorts of reviews (though I’d love to) that warrants a food budget, I cannot affortd to go to even as many restaurants that open up in PDX in a given month on a writer’s budget. Therefore, when I hear that a place is good I wait ’til Matt wants to take me out and recommend we visit during happy hour. As we’re both freelancers, we can go whenever, which is double-great if we’re going to catch a late happy hour.

I reviewed Pasha after Lilah got me to check her belly-dance performance (I highly recommend it) at what was totally tripped out Middle Eastern disco that was being DJ’d by a fellow I believe was Ukrainian. Very trippy. Regardless, they have decent food, a darn decent all-you-can-eat lunch buffet (as long as you avoid the obviously not Middle Eastern dishes) as well as a buttermilk and mint drink that I swear to you is most excellent no matter what it sounds like.

I also reviewed the Blue Dragonfly, which serves a very high class pile of happy hour appetizers, thought the featured cocktails are not on happy hour special at all. It could be really cool if people find it over there on Powell. Thus far, it smells a bit of boondoggle, though I’ll very happily hit up the after 10pm happy hour ’til their accountants come to their senses.

I’ve recently had a picture of mine selected for an updated version of the Schmap! Vancouver Map. I’m thrilled.

Indeed, I was very impressed with Vancouver when I went there for a convention with Matt a couple of years ago. Even more, I think it was the first time someone just whisked me away for a holiday. I’d made the journey by car from Minnesota when I was 19, so it was a real different expience to see it from the prespective that 12 years and a few extra coins to rub together affords one. For instance, the 39th floor was very different from the 2-man tent Mark and I stayed in on the outskirts of town, last time.
So, Matt and I put the dog up for a few days with Aunt Darcey and headed north on a relatively small plane. It was just good, and I continue to truly dig Canada. And Vancouver is a wonderful example, if you happen to like the West Coast, as I do.

As I mentioned in some of the descriptions of photos from the trip, Vancouver is one of the few cities I’ve ever been to where more than a few people mentioned to me how much they liked their hometown. That sort of sentiment is usually reserved for people who’ve moved there from somewhere horrible. The good citizens of Vancouver (whether they live in Chinatown or not) just rightfully enjoy the eclectic mix of how sensible it is to be Canadian with the multi-cultural (and I say that in the good and not besweatered way) modernity of the West Coast.

What a thrill to be part of it in some way, even just being a visitor and all.

I reviewed the Press Club for wCities a few weeks ago, and remain smitten with this spot. It just has a most excellent feel to it, a nice fast wi-fi connection, and a darn decent house red along w/ my personal favourite: crepes. Oh, yum.

I’m just in love.

Speaking of love, you may wait for me there, and I’ll be there w/ my new best friend, the tablet PC.