Portlandia

If you haven’t seen the TV show yet, you should. Or to see a stranger, more over-the-top version, just go to the actual place. Portland is a weird, wonderful city. It’s the kind of place where there are more food carts than restaurants, more breweries than people, and where brandishing a plastic shopping bag can get you killed.

And speaking of food trucks, we couldn’t imagine starting our visit any other way. We met my aunt Shelly at the train station, and she suggested that we grab lunch at Portland’s famous block of food carts. It wasn’t a hard sell.

End of blog. This photo says everything there is to say about Portland.

Well, not really. Portland is easily stereotyped, but there is way more to the city. Our next stop is a great example.

With a belly full of some sort of Thai chicken bowl (delicious), we walked a few blocks through downtown to a relatively nondescript building that was surrounded by an even less-descript white plaster fence. But inside that fence was one of the most amazing urban gardens I’ve ever seen. It was the Portland Chinese Gardens, was well worth the stop.

The gardens are curated by a team of experts in Chinese culture, with the help of a small army of volunteers. Pretty incredible.

Our last stop for the afternoon was Powell's Bookstore, the bookstore to end all bookstores. It spans an entire city block, and goes up four stories. It is massive, local, and well stocked. We could have spent all day there. But thankfully, my uncle Richard called to say that he was heading home from work. We left before we could blow what was left of our travel money.

We ate like royalty that night. Portland has a well-deserved reputation for excellent food from all over the world. We started things off with a stop at the nearby bicycle-themed brewery, or as it’s also called, a Portland. And of course, you can’t drive to a bicycle-themed brewery.

We were all really impressed with the beers, but they were nothing compared to our next stop. Dinner was at Pok Pok, a local Thai restaurant that has been written up in every paper from the New York Times, to the Bangkok Thaimes.

That was a bad joke, but it's still true. The restaurant is internationally famous, and for good reason. The place is set up like it's in rural Thailand, with outside seating under a thatched overhang. But we'd have to wait a bit before we could sit down. Pok Pok doesn't take reservations, and there was an hour wait on a Tuesday. This was going to be good.

We killed some at Pok Pok's sister bar across the street. Again, not a hard sell.

The bar looked like the kind of place where well-to-do Thai business people might mingle with expats in a neighborhood outside of Bangkok. In fact, it was pretty reminiscent of Tim Hatfield’s South Pacific “sporting club". It featured whisky cocktails that are apparently pretty popular in Thailand. Also pretty popular with me.

Now, it might have been probably was the whisky talking, but the meal we had that night was easily one of the best of my life. There was some type of pan-seared duck, a spicy veggie dish, plenty of rice, and several things I couldn’t pronounce. Seriously good stuff.

And even though Aimee and I were debating who would wheel the other one out, there was still room for dessert. There is always room for dessert.

Enter Voodoo Doughnuts. The idea for this place undoubtedly came to the owner after Bob Marley amounts of weed, but it totally works. Think of the weirdest, wildest donut you can imagine, then fill it with peanut butter and top it with Cap’n Crunch. Seriously.

This is probably the only donut shop in the country that is busier at 11pm than 7am, but it’s hard to tell, because the place is open 24 hours a day, and always packed.

As we waited in line, a retired 20-something from the Keep Portland Weird crowd hurled jokes at the line from his perch on a power box outside the donut shop. It was kind of like a roast of everyone in line as they walked past him. It was moderately uncomfortable, surprisingly funny, and very Portland.

When we turned the corner to enter the place, it was surprisingly overwhelming. There was neon everywhere, disinterested hipsters to take your order, and more donuts than I have seen in my life.

With the line growing longer by the minute, and more donut styles than you could eat in a year (without getting diabetes), it was surprisingly hard to come up with an order. Richard and Shelly already knew what they wanted. They’re too thin to be regulars, but this was hardly their first trip. Aimee and I, on the other hand, pretty much just pointed to the first things we saw.

I think this was the point when we got home and Aimee realized she ordered a Triple Chocolate Penetration with Coco-Puffs on top.