Merry & Mod at home

PDX

To celebrate nine years of marriage (man, that seems like a long time...in a very good way) a few weeks ago we headed to Portland for a long weekend.  Finding myself with a free afternoon and no responsibilities was immensely liberating.  I hopped on the Max and sped downtown.  From there I wandered through the Pearl District to the Museum of Contemporary Craft.  Then of course to Powell's where I bought myself a new cookbook.  My meandering path led me to the most beautiful Whole Foods ever, where I selected a few choice hotel room snacks, then back on the rail car, where I hopped off to breeze through a very fancy yarn store. 

That night we dined at Beast.  The six course dinner with wine pairing was so perfect, so delicious, so very decadent and slow in a down-to-earth sort of way that we did not even blink at the atronomical bill.  (Before dinner we had a drink at a sushi joint down the street.  Very hip with those glass garage style doors open to the warm evening.  I had a cocktail of fresh ginger, lime, vodka, and prosecco.  Fantastic.)

The next night we met a friend for drinks at Clyde Common, then followed his recommendation for a casual dinner in Old Town at Ping.  (The skewered quail eggs wrapped in bacon and grilled are not to be missed.)

Portland, how I love you.  This former city of mine has changed so much that it's as though I'm rediscovering it all over again.   

pretty pictures

 

The boys and I are just returned from a very hot visit to my childhood home in the Willamette Valley.  Recently I wondered, living in the high desert as I do now, does my upbringing in Eugene make me a Valley Girl?

 

[Raspberry vodka in the works.]

 

[Stone fruits - the essence of summer.]

     

[Wading pools, shade, cold drinks, bare feet.]

California Recap

The wildfires and excessive heat did not exactly inspire a shopping bonanza last weekend at the Holiday Gift Bazaar.  Regardless, I enjoyed a whirlwind weekend with dear friends and family, many of whom came to admire my wares and left with little Merry & Mod bags full of presents for themselves and others. 

On Saturday evening, the old skate team reunited for dinner at La Vecchia.  I enjoyed the perfect mimosa and excellent eggs florentine at Anisette the next morning, followed by my first-ever facial at Willow Spa.  (I also had my eyelashes tinted.  It's an indulgence, I know, but it will help you look rested, no matter how tired you may be.) 

I celebrated the coming of a best friend's first baby that afternoon.

 

Later that evening, Kiesha and I had dinner at Mozza Pizzeria, a true Hollywood hot spot.  I recommend the butterscotch budino and Nancy Silverton's chopped salad. 

Returning to Oregon, I found two very welcoming little boys and one tired husband.  Traveling solo was a strange emotional mixture of independence and home sickness.  Happily, my family found their own creative moments without me.

They built a flying hockey stick...

and a bug house (which somehow involved the ax; I prefer not to ask questions).

Sweet home.

A trip to Eugene with my son was a busy, exhausting, and resorative weekend that ended all to soon.  While I enjoyed much happiness and togetherness with the fam, the only soul searching was the discovery that I should not be allowed to book my own flights.  Oh well.  We flew direct even if it was the middle of the night.  And Miles won the award for Best Toddler Ever by going so well with the flow.   

Once at home, it was a pleasure to watch Miles and his cousin tromping around Mom and Dad's back yard.  I'm often impressed by the extent of Miles' appetite, but I think that he could win a blueberry eating contest hands down.

The purpose of the trip was the wedding of a longtime family friend at Dorris Ranch. 

It was a very personal afternoon affair.  The bride and groom entered the ceremony arm in arm behind a traditional bagpiper and drummer, leading their wedding party, parents, siblings, and the groom's daughter (also the maid of honor.)  It was an emotional and impactful parade.  I was impressed by their poise and the bride's vivid smile and spot-on posture.  Their happiness was simply contagious. 

Afterwards guests refreshed with mason jars full of local micro brews, and a buffet of smoked salmon, dolmas, fruit salad and a gorgeous cheese platter, all of which was laid out inside the barn. 

I enjoyed the simplicity of an afternoon wedding.  It felt very old-fashioned and picnic-like. 

Alas, the problem with vacations, however long or short, is that they must end.  So I've returned to work after a busy day at home on Monday.  I spent a fortune at Ralph's and Trader Joe's in order to have food for the week.  I am beginning to cook my way through Mark Bittman's list of 101 easy dinners recently published in the NY Times.  That guy is my hero.  I also made a batch of stuffed shells with arugula and marinara to take over to Mike and Ruthie's - so I didn't feel so guilty cuddling their new baby the day they returned home from the hospital.  Lord, I love that big little guy already.   

And, as I type, I'm sipping a Hot Pink raspberry vodka martini made with my parents' homemade raspberry infused vodka.  This particular libation's recipe follows the principles of an excellent  margarita: 1 oz vodka, 1/2 oz triple sec, the juice of one very fresh lemon.  Shake.  Strain and serve up in a martini glass.  Heaven. 

Of course, if you were one of my brothers you'd be drinking the vodka simple, over ice.  True, it really is that good.   

Wardrobe maintenance.

Leaving town naturally involves a small amount of planning and strategy.  Tonight I feel decidely behind-the-game for my Thursday morning departure.  I did manage a few small preparations; various clothing pieces are laid atop the bedroom chair, though few outfits are likely to emerge from the cotton and cashmere pile.  I also did a bit of pre-vaca hand washing and there occured what I humbly consider a moment of sheer brilliance.  To wring out my undergarments while maintaining their helpful shape:  the salad spinner. 

Worked like a dream. 

And so convenient.