It was tough to sleep on the red-eye from Vancouver, British Columbia, to Toronto, Ontario. When I initially booked my tickets from Portland, Oregon, to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, the cheapest route put me through Canada, which I certainly didn’t mind. A short jump to Vancouver, a red-eye flight, and a day to play in Toronto before I boarded for Brazil.
Insight into the worlds of culinary and beverage luminaries.
Aside from your relationship with potatoes, you hadn’t really crossed my mind over the years, your state little more than a hostage to the French fry existence. As it turns out, there’s more to you, with over 180 agricultural products, a top producer of Austrian winter peas, trout, barley, sugarbeets – and yes, potatoes. You also have a serious relationship with wine. Who knew?
My knowledge of the Tri-Cities area had been somewhere between the Hanford Site and the Kennewick Man over the last fifteen years of my Northwest residence. It seemed a flat, uninteresting corridor in the lower middle of Washington state with nothing but space to offer, overshadowed by the evergreen of Seattle further west.
Chef Michael Symon seems like the kind of friend you’re excited to see when you run into when you see each other on the street. A smile on his face, a spring in his step, he is a regular on television and at food and wine festivals across the country, always jovial, always within reach.
Developed in the early 2000s, after a string of successful coffee shops made Joe Johnston a local celebrity of sorts, it is an oasis in the desert, an agricultural Utopia. A working farmland sits at the heart of the property, with Joe’s Farm Grill, a small Farmer’s Market, and a coffee shop (packed with yoga Moms and strollers at 11 am) perched on one side.
Oh, Portland. After a decade, you’re finally starting to grow on me. Your rivers, your bridges, your crazy cyclists. The food and drink selection, however, is certainly one of your shiny bits.
We’re venturing to the west coast today, to the place where hearts are left and the Fernet flows freely – beautiful San Francisco, California. The iconic city by the bay is not only a tourist’s dream, it’s food and drink destination, with an abundance of cocktail pioneers and Michelin stars.
This round of ’48 Hours in…’ was penned by my dear friend, Erin Edds. A fellow entrepreneur, Erin and her husband, Stephen, are the operators of the wildly popular Hoosier Momma Bloody Mary mixer line – a favorite at Colts games, the Indianapolis 500, and Kentucky Derby.
First, you head north past Los Angeles’ Hasidic Jewish neighborhood and onto the posh boutique-lined Beverly Boulevard for a bite at Petty Cash, an upscale taqueria. The walls look like an enormous Digital Retna mural, and the bar is stocked with scores of agave spirits, many of which you’ve never seen before. You see the trompo and decide to order tacos al pastor to go with your Paloma.
Jeffrey Morgenthaler, bartender extraordinaire.
More like Jeffrey the Grouch when I first met him in the Denver airport years ago.
For this round of “48 Hours in…”, I asked my friend, and locale expert, Evan Strange, to point us in the right direction. Though I originally met Evan during my visit to Indianapolis, he made the trek down Texas way two years ago, and is certainly my go-to to get the off-the-radar dining deets in this capital city.