Erratic Times in Willamette Valley
I can’t say that I awoke feeling refreshed that morning. It had nothing to do with the quality of the room or the comfort of the bed but rather the snoring of Jason. Yes, I will give him credit, he had been awake for 36 hours. The first priority was, of course, food and coffee. I decided to take Jason to a small breakfast joint called Pine State Biscuits in the Sunnyside neighborhood of Portland. I had visited this place back in 2009 when my brothers and I had explored Portland before our cousins wedding in Corvallis.
Sunnyside is a quaint neighborhood with colorfully painted homes, leafy trees, and street-side flower gardens. Good coffee takes priority and so we made a stop for some Stumptown coffee. I got my usual latte and Jason got his routine mocha. All were happy.
Pine State Biscuits is a tiny little breakfast nook with just a few tables and a small bar at which to eat. It is owned by three guys who grew up in North Carolina. They all coincidentally found themselves in Portland and felt that the city was lacking in southern food so they started a restaurant with the best damn biscuits in Portland. They were featured on the Food Network’s show Diners, Dives and Drive-ins which featured them hand-making their biscuits. Jason ordered The Reggie Deluxe biscuit which came with a fried chicken breast, bacon, cheddar, a fried egg and gravy. I got the Chatfield which had the fried chicken, bacon and cheddar with apple butter spread.
While we waited for our food to come out we read the Oregonian newspaper and the New York Times. We also watched the bustle in the open kitchen. There were lots of eggs being cracked onto hot cast iron skillets. There was one particular cook that Jason and I both had our eyes on. He was tall and thin with a grungy beard, lots of arm tattoos and bright blue eyes. Jason and I fought over which team this guy was batting for. Jason kept staring at him while we were there, and the cook gave him a food nods in return. But at one point he came over close to where I was sitting and looked me square in the eye with an intense stare that could only convey one thing…
The biscuits were flakey, moist and delicious. The chicken was crispy and savory on the outside and juicy on the inside. The gravy was really flavorful with hints of herbs and cream. We made a stop off in Zupan’s market to peruse through the mostly local and organic selections they offered. It was basically like a local version of a Whole Foods. I picked up some Portland baked granola and some vegan beef jerky.
The sun was still hiding behind the clouds when we checked out of our hotel. Jason went to meet up with a friend while I did a bit of shopping. The first stop was Whole Foods just located a block away. I bought a tube of natural sunblock and couldn’t resist a cute pair of hound’s-tooth Tom’s. Next I went to the famous Powell’s Book store. This gargantuan store has every book imaginable lining shelves that go at least one story high. Books are organized not only by author or genre but also by award winners and store-worker’s favorites. This was the kind of store that Barnes & Nobles could only aspire to be like.
I picked out a few recent books that were on sale for about $9 a piece. I got Barbara Kingsolver’s recent book The Lacuna which came highly recommended by the woman ahead of me in line. I also grabbed a book called Sex at Dawn, a non-fiction book that I about “How we mate, why we stray, and what it means for modern relationships.” I could understand how Powell’s books was an institution in Portland. As I sat in the coffee shop section of the store, drinking my café au lait, I could easily picture how cozy it would be in here on a rainy fall day. There were all walks of life in that book store on that gloomy morning and I could have stayed there for hours people watching, blogging and reading my new book, but alas it was time to move on.
Jason and I navigated our way to the Willamette Valley, known for its many wineries which specialize in Pinot Noirs. Once we got out of the congestion of Portland, it was a beautiful drive through valleys surrounded by pine tree lined mountains, fields spotted with bails of hay and farms and vineyards.
About an hour later we arrived in the town of McMinnville, which is the main town in the wine region. We booked a night at another of the McMenamin establishments, called Hotel Oregon. McMinnville was a quaint 1950s style town with an inviting main street. Hotel Oregon was very centrally located. We checked in, unloaded our bags, and then went in search of lunch. A few blocks down the main street we found the Community Plate which is a quaint eatery sourcing its food from local suppliers. The interior was made using a decommissioned barn so the walls and tables were made of worn antique wood.
Jason and I had trouble deciding what to order. We settled on sharing the baked macaroni & cheese and we both ordered a salad. My salad came with pickled beets, goat cheese and toasted filberts. It was an amazing vegetarian lunch full of flavor and nutrition (minus the massive amounts of cheese on the macaroni.)
It was already after 3 o’clock and after a quick internet search, I learned that most of the area wineries closed at 4pm and were about a 20 minute drive away. We were about to claim defeat and head to the hotel’s bar when I found Yamhill Vineyards. They were just about 5 miles out of town and were open until 5pm. We excitedly hopped in the car.
After a short drive through rolling hills, wildflower-lined fields, and rows upon rows of grape vines, we ended up at Yamhill Vineyards We were the only visitors on site at the time and so we got immediate service. The friendly, blonde, middle-aged woman at the counter explained that it would be $5 for a flight of six wines. Since when did wine tasting become the metaphorical equivalent of boarding an airplane? Did these people really think their wine was amazing enough that it would transcend us to another plain of existence? I doubted it, but for $5 I couldn’t argue anymore.
We started our “flight” with a Pinot Gris, followed by a Pinot Blanc, a red called Erratic Rock, two Pinot Noirs and a Riesling. We liked one of the higher end Pinot Noirs the best and I also enjoyed the Pinot Gris which was not too sweet. The woman serving us was pleasant and friendly and offered an nice explanation for each wine, reminding us to pay attention to the color and clarity of the wines as well.
We tried to hit up one more winery before the day was done, but we found it to be closed already. Instead, we drove through the beautiful countryside. I hollered to Jason to stop when I noticed a sign for Erratic Rock. This is the same rock that Yamhill Vineyards named one of their wines after. We parked the car in the shoulder of the road and heade up the steep path to the top. A sign on the way explained that this famous rock had been transported from Missoula, Montana many thousands of years ago with a glacier.
On the pathway leading up, I noticed blackberries growing on the side. Most of them were still developing but I found a few purple ones. They were juicy but still a bit tart. After about a half-mile hike, we found Erratic Rock. I must say, it was overwhelmingly anticlimactic. I was expecting to find a large boulder overlooking the valley but really it was just a big rock on top of a hill. Jason and I tried to make the most of it and took some silly pictures, but really, it was kind of lame.
Back in McMinnville, we struggled to find something to do to pass the rest of the daylight hours. I did a little bit of window shopping at a hippie joint. I wanted to take a yoga class at a studio I spotted on the main street, but when we approached it, we found out that they were closed for the week. The girl who was mopping the floors to the loud sounds of Beyonce said that this was their slowest week of the year so they were shut down temporarily.
Back in McMinnville we caught a bluegrass street performance by a group of high school boys. They were surprisingly good and did some fantastic renditions of the Avett Brothers and other folksy singers. I decided to end my evening on the roof-top bar of Hotel Oregon while Jason sipped an iced coffee at one of the corner coffee shops. It was a beautiful temperature on the rooftop bar that evening. The sun was shining in a cloudless sky. I ordered a stout that was brewed on site and I drank it while looking out across the hills and trees. This was pure bliss! I sent text message to Jason to inform him that he was missing a hell of a time on the roof top bar. I indulged myself by ordering another beer, this time a hefeweizen, also brewed on site.
We had grand plans to try out a “farm to fork” restaurant in Dundee for dinner, but as we glanced at their menu online, we realized they were closing up for the night around 8pm, the hour upon which it was already encroaching. After eating all day, drinking lots of good beer and wine, Jason and I were barely hungry. Before calling it a night, we went across the street to the 3rd Street Pizzeria. It was one dollar pizza night and so we got a variety of their mini slices of pizza to try. It was warm and cozy inside the pizzeria and in fact, it reminded me of winters in the northeast, eating comfort food while the rain poured down on brightly colored fallen leaves. I could really get used to this Oregon lifestyle.
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