Eden in Eugene
The sky was overcast when we woke up that morning in McMinnville. We threw on some long-sleeved shirts and headed next door to the Red Fox Bakery that I had spotted yesterday. It was a quaint little bakery that, according to the sign outside, make a weekly appearance at the farmers market and had a post-market food and music party as well. Jason and I each ordered our espresso drink of choice and a delicious assortment of pastries because we could not decide on just one.
With my latte I had a blueberry braided Danish (local blueberries, of course) and also a raspberry scone. Jason drank his mocha with a pain au chocolat and mixed berry galette. We got a small loaf of golden raisin buttermilk bread to go. The pastries at this place were incredible; it was hard not to buy a few more for the road, but we held off, but it really took willpower not to buy that giant dark chocolate covered cream puff and the still warm loaves of bread.
The wimpy little hike to Erractic rock that Jason and I had done yesterday barely counted as exercise and I was feeling antsy. Over the years I have realized that I am addicted to exercise. If I go more than about 24 – 48 hours without exercise, the withdrawal symptoms start to set in: I feel irritable, antsy, my gastrointestinal system goes crazy, I can’t stop thinking about where I will get it next, and I will fight anyone who stands in my way. I was getting to my threshold so it was time to find my next fix. I set out for a run around sleeply little McMinnville while Jason hung out at a coffee shop.
The small town was just waking up. People were out walking dogs, slowly heading to cafes, or pushing strollers. The houses were modest, but each one had a colorful garden of flowers out front. It wasn’t a town where I would want to live but it was certainly a quaint place for a one-day visit. I checked my email before we headed out of Hotel Oregon. There was an email in my work mailbox that seemed to good to be true. I don’t think I have ever gotten a medical recruiting email before in my life, but here was a message from a private practice in Eugene, Oregon. They were recruiting applicants to start working after my scheduled graduation. It seemed like a good omen. I was ready to see what Eugene had to offer.
It was a sunny drive from McMinnville to Eugene. On the way we drove through wide valleys spotted with vineyards, ranches, weathered and worn barns, orchards, and cattle. We got hungry for a snack on the way so we dug into the raisin bread. Even though I choked as I accidentally inhaled some of the flour dusted on the outside of the loaf, I still agreed with Jason that this was the best raisin bread we’d ever had. The crust was crisp and crunchy but the inside was moist and chewy. The golden raisins were huge and juicy. We had to pace ourselves so we didn’t finish the entire loaf.
We pulled into Eugene at lunchtime and parked our car downtown. For a small city of about 150,000 people, there was a lot of foot traffic. There was a farmer’s market going on in one of the open plazas. There were a few crafty items for sale like jewelry and pottery. There was the usual tie-dye booth as well, at this booth we laughed when we found tie-dyed scrubs! The girl who worked there said that there was an assisted living center in her home state of Utah where everyone wore her tie-dyed scrubs. I don’t think they’d welcome them as openly in Houston.
I couldn’t get enough of the fresh local berries that were sold at all of the Oregon farmers market. I ignored the headline on the last Oregonian newspaper I’d seen that warned about an E. coli outbreak in berries. I didn’t care if these berries lead to diarrhea either from infestation or sheer high fiber content, they were worth it. For $8 I got three pints of berries: red cherries, boysenberries and raspberries.
“Do you compost?” asked a white-haired man. I unfortunately told him that we were only passing through Oregon on vacation and sadly weren’t composting on the way. He was selling some kind of compost liquid. Instead of talking more about that, we had a discussion about Texas, where he said he’d lived during his childhood in the 1940s. “Isn’t this Eden here today?” he asked. We had to agree. It was about 75F and sunny with barely a cloud in the sky. It was warm in the sun but there was also a cool breeze blowing. He said that this was a cooler summer or Eugene; in past summers it has been up to 90-100F, but of course, not humid like Houston, he admitted.
There was a plethora of amazing food for sale at this market. There were some awesome baked items, coffee drinks, healthy Mexican food, and vegetables galore. I stopped at a stand called Field to Table where they were cooking up some great lunch meals. I ordered the Sockeye Salmon, cakes which came with roasted corn and green beans, sea beans, as well as a homemade tartar sauce. I got a basil-cucumber soda that they assured me was local, organic and consciously made. For dessert, I got a bacon-sage shortbread cookie with fig jam. The staff working the tent were so cheery and friendly, they genuinely seemed to mean it when they said they hoped you enjoyed your meal.
I couldn’t resist ordering a few more desserts at a bakery tent too. I also got a ginger cookie and a homemade oreo with butter cream frosting inside. I ate all of this food, with my berries, while basking in the midday sunshine and watching the market goers pass by. There were a few gray haired hippies heatedly discussing politics. Moms with babies in slings sifted through produce. A couple of guys with dreadlocks sat on the corner strumming on guitars. A few peopled napped in People exchanged pleasantries as they bumped into old friends. Eugene seemed like a tight-knight community. I could get into this. Maybe this was the place for me!
After I thoroughly gorged myself on the delicious lunch and many desserts, Jason and I split up. He walked around while I went to the Steelhead Brewery. There was so much good craft beer to be consumed in Oregon that I needed to stop wasting time and get down to business with the drinking. Steelhead was just about a one mile walk from where we’d parked our car. Tanks of beer were visible through the glass behind the bar in the pub. They had about ten different beers on tap and I chose a porter because I can never pass up a good dark beer. The beer was nutty yet not too heavy. I drank it in their patio while reading my very thought provoking book, Sex at Dawn, and watching the world go by.
I was feeling sufficiently happy after that porter but I wasn’t ready to stop there. A friend who lives in Seattle had suggested Ninkasi Brewery. I consulted my iPhone map and found that it was also just about one mile away. It was a pleasant walk through Eugene on the way there. I can see why its referred to as the Emerald City because it really is green both literally and figuratively. I passed many a quaint colorful with flowers blooming on fence posts out front, also walked past quite a few natural food stores, cafes, and headshops.
Ninkasi is a large building painted in black and turquoise. Jason arrived there with our car just a few minutes after I did. There were a few people inside the brewery tasting room and a few others sitting outside on the sunlight patio. When we found out that a tasting of five 5-oz beers was just $5.50, we had to order one for each of us. They had about eight different beers on tap so between the two of us we got to try them all. There was a good variety of beer types including ales, stouts, IPAs, double IPAs, and a red beer. I have to say that my favorite was, not surprisingly, the oatmeal vanilla stout. I had a pretty good buzz going after my own little Eugene brewery crawl, but I still couldn’t resist going back for a full pint of the stout.
While we sat in the patio of Ninkasi, which slowly filled up with the happy hour crowd, we took advantage of the free wifi. I got an email from my cousin in San Francisco saying that I should connect with a family we’d all grown up with in New Jersey who live in Oregon now. My cousins on the west coast are still very close friends with them and we’ve all seen each other at the occasional wedding. It seemed only a few minutes later that I had received an email from Kirk, who lives with his family in Eugene, that said to call him.
I called Kirk right away. Kirk almost immediately invited us to stay at his home for the night. With their eldest daughter way in Germany, he said they had more than enough room to accommodate us. We made plans to meet for dinner a little later when he finished up working. In the meantime, we continued to drink beer and relax. All of a sudden, as if in response to my culinary dreams, a portable wood-fired oven pulled up to the patio. A man with his son of about 8 years were setting up for pizzas. I chatted with them, found out what their best pizza was, and told them to holler when the grills were ready. It took awhile to heat that large oven up, but eventually Jason and I were snacking on a delicious little pizza with mozzarella, pecorino romano, garlic and bacon.
We met Kirk at Cozmic Pizza, his newest business endeavor. Kirk has been out in Oregon for probably about twenty years. He started an organic ravioli company, called Rising Moon Organics, which he later sold and you can now find his ravioli in all Whole Foods and many other health food stores. Since the ravioli, Kirk did a bit of consulting and recently bought a Laundromat, an apartment building, and the pizzeria.
I introduced Jason to Kirk and we all caught up over a few beers. Before long, his partner, Jade, and their daughter, Daisy, showed up. That had been at the barn all day tending to their horses. They treated us to a great dinner with a variety of salads and pizzas. Everything was delicious, especially Daisy’s favorite pizza, which had artichokes and other veggies on it. Cozmic Pizza is in large warehouse-like space that is shared with a café and another business. The open space in the middle has bunch of chairs and tables and there is a central stage where they frequently host live music. Tonight they were showing a film on the big screen. It was the documentary about the ultra-marathon runner, Dean Karnazes. I had actually gone to see Dean speak when I lived in Hartford, Connecticut and he came through with the North Face speaker series. This guy ran fifty marathons in 50 consecutive days in all fifty states—truly awe-inspiring. It seemed like a fitting movie to watch in the very athletic state of Oregon.
After dinner, Kirk drove us past his other businesses on the way to his house. We saw the Holiday Laundromat. Kirk said the place used to be totally ghetto and a regular hang out for the crackheads in town. He had revamped the place and totally cleaned it up. He had taken the center of the old washers and dryers and made them into pots for plants that now sat outside. We also got to see the apartment building they had bought and recently spruced up with a new coat of paint.
Kirk and Jade pretty much live in my dream home. Their house is not much more than a five-minute drive from downtown Eugene but it truly feels like the country there. They have five acres of land across the street from the trailhead to a dense forested park area. There is a small, old house that sits on the property that is about 700 square feet. Kirk said when the first moved out there, their family of four lived in this little house while they planned and built their new house. The old house still stands, and they now rent it out to a couple, but their new house is gorgeous. It has a very earthy feel and is painted a dark green with natural wood and dark red accents.
Kirk gave us a tour of the garden. They had sunflowers, tomatoes, peppers, squash, strawberries, lettuces, blueberries, and sunflowers, just to name a few. Jason picked a bright yellow-orange tomato that was ripe. I ate some blueberries off the plant. This was like the natural, organic, lower glycemic index version of Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. The blueberries really tasted like blueberries! Jason and I were in awe of their fabulous home and garden. Kirk said that he was glad to share it with us and enjoyed seeing the garden through our eyes.
Jade chatted with us while we settled into their guesthouse. The guesthouse is a small studio apartment that they had to lift and literally straighten when they moved there. It was just enough space for a bed, some bookshelves, a small kitchen, bathroom and a little wood-burning furnace. Jason and I said we’d be happy to just stay in this cozy little house forever. Jade said sometimes she likes to go sleep out in the little guesthouse to feel like she is on a little vacation. I could imagine how cozy it would be in there on a snowy or rainy day with the wood furnace burning.
We talked more about Oregon and how Jade ended up there. She is originally from Bakersfield, California. She and Kirk met in Maine through a family they both knew and admired who owned a sheep farm there. Kirk ended up in Oregon for school and she later joined. She said that she does miss the sunshine of California. Most Oregonians seem to agree that the gloomy weather does get to be a drag after awhile. She said it was less the rain or grayness that bothered her, but more the unpredictability of the weather for about eight months out of the year; every day was different here. Jade wished us goodnight and we jumped into bed.
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