I went to Portland with some friends and we stayed at The Nines...a former Meier and Frank department store that has been converted into a hotel. I loved the public spaces.
You get a lot for your money here. The rooms were super glam.
Drinks outside on the top floor started off the weekend.
We then headed over to my former hairdresser and friend Ivan's pad. He hired a pianist. In a shoebox. WHO DOES THAT? My own private Tom Ford does that. That's who.
We needed food and Portland is full of it. This is a town where the origin of everything is printed on the menu...even the olive in your martini. I highly suggest taking a trip there...well, unless you are a pig. Pigs don't live long in the City of Roses.
We hit Beast...a restaurant run by a former vegetarian (hard to believe) and her friend.
The six-course prix fixe meal ended with chocolate covered bacon. Really.
The next morning was hard on my roommate.
I told her to get up. We were urbanites now. We had work to do. We grabbed breakfast at The Urban Farmer downstairs in the atrium at the hotel.
Bloody Marys came...
...garnished with caramelized bacon...of course.
After that, I headed out to get reacquainted with an old friend at Saks. Jen...Gucci. Gucci...Jen.
I wonder if any pigs were killed while making these shoes?
Shopping made us thirsty so we took a detour in our limo.
Hardcore shopping was rewarded with another incredible dinner. In a food coma from Beast but still retaining a pulse...we trudged on in our epicurean tour of Portland and enjoyed duck breast under melting duck fat at Castagna. Ducking ridiculous.
Poached duck egg with lardons.
Cabbage atop a pig embryo. Kidding.
I took one for the team and slept on the rollaway that night.
The next morning we were sensible enough to hunt down a more peasant meal. I couldn't look at another pig. Well, unless it was orange and came with a handle and a lock.
We had killer pigless Chillaquilles and pigless Bloody Marys at The Veritable Quandary.
I said goodbye to Ivan (single!!!)...
...and came home. Good times.