tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65306846259409516962024-03-14T10:06:54.984-07:00Rose City Food BlogLizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036578275756732901noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6530684625940951696.post-16192323907568171952010-12-07T19:14:00.000-08:002010-12-07T19:14:10.343-08:00Waffle Window<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTieU6oR-JRZTqK6hhydQHL3ueuvPGKDxTR9-QBCefoU3_sufzbR5nfwzikcbCTeikOG0CCUojLBEI6-do91k-HHSENj7_uPLeGVayt74S-UgQ54IClgBTcyDT09y3cdWWOEhCKK0930gS/s1600/download.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTieU6oR-JRZTqK6hhydQHL3ueuvPGKDxTR9-QBCefoU3_sufzbR5nfwzikcbCTeikOG0CCUojLBEI6-do91k-HHSENj7_uPLeGVayt74S-UgQ54IClgBTcyDT09y3cdWWOEhCKK0930gS/s320/download.jpg" width="238" /></a></div>There is a window on SE Hawthorne that sells waffles. It is called the Waffle Window. I guess the name of your restaurant doesn't really matter when this magnitude of deliciousness is on the menu. This is the Three B's waffle that Christopher ordered and I sampled. Repeatedly. Or maybe I ate about half of it. Brie, Bacon and Basil. I think that is orange marmalade on the side. Whatever it was, it was awesome.<br />
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Chicken and Waffles at Screen Door has some serious competition. Although C&W can take all comers when it comes to sheer massiveness. <br />
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In other news: I'm moving into an old bungalow in South East down by Reed college next Monday, and I can't wait! Living in a tiny NW studio with a kitchenette (a generous term in this case) was killing me. The new place has a gas range and teal 50's fridge. I will be taking merciless advantage of both. Posts of experiments and concoctions from my new digs coming soon. <br />
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Thanks for reading!Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036578275756732901noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6530684625940951696.post-48133227760183153252010-11-20T15:29:00.000-08:002010-11-20T15:29:05.382-08:00First postI am from Texas, I am a Texan. As far as I have moved from my hometown of Houston (1834 miles to be exact), I still consider myself a Texan. Somehow I found my way up to Oregon for college and have moved even farther north to find myself in Portland -- living among people that my grandmother still considers Yankees.<br />
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When friends discover my roots, the first question after "why don't you have an accent?" is "why did you come to Oregon?" as if I am crazy, that there is nothing here worth discovering and I should turn back now before I discover that the river is too deep to ford and Sue has died of dysentery.<br />
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I have given a lot of consideration to that question, since I have never been able to offer a very good answer. Maybe mountains are in my blood. My father is from rural northern Montana and he has to go back every several years to reset. Maybe I wanted a fresh start and to set out on my own, to get a piece of that Western expansion that seems so American and exciting. Either way I'm really not sure how I got here, but I know why I stayed. I stayed for the food. <br />
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Since moving here I have tried things that I was never exposed to in Texas. Beets that weren't from a can, Marion berries, Salmon Jerky. And fruits that I had always loved were taken to a new level when purchased on a whim from a fruit stand on the side of the road: cherries, apples, peaches, berries. <br />
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As the season of feasts is upon us, and food is raised to the center of everything, I feel that it is an appropriate time to start this blog, and it seems only right that I should start by returning to the Bayou city to visit my parents for Thanksgiving. <br />
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Thanks for reading!Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17036578275756732901noreply@blogger.com2