On Sunday Heather and I, along with our friends Justin and Katie, explored a bit of the Columbia River Gorge.
We left Portland around noon. Walking Man Brewery in Stevenson, Washington doesn’t open until 3pm on Sunday, so we figured that gave us enough time to see some sights, hike Beacon Rock, and then enjoy some beers. At Corbett we exited I-84 and followed the Historic Columbia River Highway east.
As regular readers know, I’m a fan and booster of Portland beers, restaurants, and sports teams [Rip City and Rose City ‘Til I Die!]. As often as possible I promote and attend local festivals. I regularly read, link to, and recommend local blogs and I keep tabs on media paeans to, and critiques of, my hometown.
I love Portland.
But not all my opinions jibe with the hometown consensus, for my love is not blind.
I am a Portlander, but I am firstly my own man.
Take, for instance, local beer brewers and consumers’ obsession with hops and a beer style, the Northwest India Pale Ale, that generally tastes like rancid grapefruit juice. I prefer beers that are interesting, or even subtle; IPAs are seldom the former and never the latter. One day I might be in the mood for something sweet and malty, the next day dry and toasty. Sometimes something a bit Belgiany, or tart. In the fall, when the hops are fresh and the air is crisp, I may even enjoy one of the banal and ubiquitous Northwest IPAs of which I whinge – the hop aroma is nice. But I’m tired of local bar and beer festival lineups where IPAs make up a third to half of the available beers. Show some creativity! When I want a grape fruit juice I’ll order a Greyhound.
The Timbers play at Merlo Field again this Friday, in a preseason exhibition match against U of P.
If you haven’t bought season tickets (you really should!), you can buy single game tickets starting today.
We’re less than a month away from the beginning of the season; a road game at Vancouver on Saturday, April 25 kicks it off. The Timbers first home game is against Carolina the following (thirsty) Thursday, April 30th.
Some accounts of the MLS to Portland announcement:
I’m Still In Shock Right Now – GK’s Althetic Sippotters
a rainbow for portland – This Is American Soccer
Sights and Sounds from MLS to Portland Announcement – Timbers at The Offside
And a podcast:
pdxsucks.com podcast special edition – mls soccer comes to portland
In the Times this morning Peter S. Goodman tells a tale of woe about Portland: A Downturn Wraps a City in Hesitance.
He starts with a look at Powell’s bookstore. Michael Powell recently postponed his $5 million expansion plans. Then considers the real estate situation, which isn’t doing well anywhere. Portland’s deepwater port activity has dropped off significantly, as has manufacturing, and retail. Go read the entire thing, if you’re a masochist.
I bought tickets for the 2009 Firkin Fest last month and had forgotten which weekend it was. Ends up it was yesterday, the same day we invited some friends over for dinner. We only had about an hour to take in the fest, but Heather and I are quite skillful at maximizing our weekend activities. So after starting in on cleaning the house and mise-ing en place as many of the paella ingredients as we could, we made our way to the Green Dragon.
Heather was initially skeptical of the Firkin Festival, until I clarified for her that a firkin is completely unrelated to a merkin, the latter being a word my lexicon was blissfully unaware of until yesterday.
Anyway.
We arrived a bit after 3pm. The fest was split into two sessions, the first from 11am-2pm and the second from 3pm-6pm, each limited to 200 person, which seemed at first to be about 100 too many.
But though it was difficult to jostle through the crowd, and there were not enough places to sit or lean and prop your pint, there were no lines for most of the beers most of the time, which was a pleasant departure from most beer festivals.
The local obsession with IPAs is one of my constant cranky complaints, and unfortunately I’ll have to bust it out again with regards to the 2009 Firkin Fest; about a quarter of the available beers were of that mouth numbingly bitter variety. But we had a limited amount of time and only 8 beer tickets, so we’d be able to work our way around them.
I had my first beers from Brewers Union Local 180, a real ale pub and brewery in Oakridge, Oregon (which is now on my shortlist of places to visit). The North Fork Ordinary Bitter was a creamy and delicious session beer, at a mere 3.4% ABV. Their molasses stout, known as That Dark Beer, was also not too powerful, at 4.6%. It tasted more like wort than beer to me though, and Heather’s “juvenile palate” detected latex paint. But we both agreed the bitter was a very pleasant beer.
Ninkasi‘s Spring Reign pale ale was delicious, as their beers have a tendency to be. The Eugene City Brewery, part of the Rogue empire, served up an Irish red ale, The Hammer Throw, which I also found enjoyable.
But my favorite beer of the afternoon was Bridgeport‘s Raven Mad Imperial Porter. Though I know it’s been available for a while, I had not gotten around to trying it until yesterday. It’s dark and chocolaty, with all the roasty flavors (coffee, chocolate) you’d expect, plus some oakiness from the bourbon barrel aging. I think Lew Bryson’s description sums it up best:
light burnt bitterness to it, a smooth drinkability, and a nicely understated wood/barrel character to it — not an upside-the-head wallop — almost like an ‘easy-drinking’ version of an imperial stout. Once again, BridgePort comes through with a beer that focuses on the drinker and not the person who’s looking to be knocked out in one glass.
We also scarfed down small slices of artisan cheeses from Pholia Farm, Rogue Creamery, and Willamette Valley Cheese Company, and sausages from Snake River Farms; all delicous.
Vosges Chocolates provided chocolates, but the only variety made available (at least when we were there) was an abomination: Mini Mo’s Bacon Bar. I’ve ranted before about the bacon dessert fad, but I’ll admit until yesterday I hadn’t actually tried any of them. Well yesterday I took a bite and confirmed my worst suspicion: bacon + chocolate = truly disgusting.
About 4:15 we were on our way, bestowing our remaining drink tickets upon a lucky couple as we departed. I rode a mild, pleasant, beer buzz as Heather embarked on her (not so) Mighty Putty adventure. And we had just enough time to finish cleaning the house and prepping the meal before our guests arrived.