colorful is healthy

Since all the health facts and nutrition advice say to eat a colorful diet, I made sure that all my normally-beige foods adequately represented ROYGBIV when making food decisions in Portland.

The drive from Seattle to Portland was probably the easiest. I barely squirmed in my seat, barely had to take Sunny off cruise, and barely had to drive through mountain highways. I was about an hour or so earlier than intended, so I went straight to Pok Pok, knowing I'd wanna take a nap once I checked into my Airbnb. Much deliberation happened, but in the end, the spicy fish sauce wings won out - "signature dish" on menus always gets me. First of all, when I saw these full wings, I thought about the last time I baked full wings and the little tips all got singed and then I realized that most places/recipes separate them. So these bright red beauties represented "nothing is impossible" in my head. And I savored every bite, cleaned off every bone, made sure to lick off every drop of sauce on my fingers. And broke up the intensity with a bite of pickled veg. 

After a solid (unintended but much needed) two hour nap, I made my way downtown to get my bakery fix that I did not get in Seattle.

Unlike people who squeeze the trust out of you and then bail on you anyways, the blueberry bourbon basil and passionfruit with cocoa nibs brioche donuts from Blue Star did not disappoint.

Good enough to lick off every drop of deep purple and creamy yellow frosting lost to the parchment paper. Much licking of sauces happened in Portland. Ugh, but that dough. That wonderfully fluffy dough that I could just curl up in. So much for my resolve to reduce carbs.

And then because I don't have a good grasp of the difference between I need that and I want that, I walked into Lardo with a full and happy stomach. Which seemed to immediately empty when this plate of dirty fries was placed in front of me. Pork, red and yellow peppers, green rosemary... all my favorite things tossed with my favorite tuber (potato) prepared in my favorite way (fried).

It's been awhile since I referred to Jeffery. But he's my beloved food baby, so named freshman year after some random conversation with Jeanette. Anyways, Jeffery was comfortably making his home as I hauled myself back to the Airbnb to collapse in the colorful carb heaven of my dreams.