From Portland with passion

If you’re living in a city with a huge stigma like Denver, t suddenly becomes your duty to seek out and spend the weekend exploring another city filled with weird stereotypes at least once in your lifetime. As a natural born lover of television, my choice was easy, and after watching far too many episodes of Portlandia, I knew Portland was definitely on my list of go to places. But until this summer, I could never find the time or a reason to jump on that the 2.5-hour flight to city that promises to “Keep Portland Weird.”

After a hectic night of last-minute packing, planning outfits we would only abandon later, and running through the list of all the hilarious skits we watched and how much we hoped they were real, we finally climbed into an early morning Uber and made the flight to Portland. The stress of the morning immediately began to fade as we took our first look at the earthy, sustainable city.

Pulling up to the Ace Hotel, a trendy mix of hostel and hotel located in northwest Portland, we were greeted warmly, told our room wasn’t quite ready, and were offered to check our bags at the front desk while we enjoyed a beverage over in Clyde Common, the restaurant directly connected to the hotel. After explaining the nature of our trip, we were directed to Scandals, a popular gay bar and a neighborhood favorite. Naturally, we jumped at the suggestion and made the one-block trip down the street for a cocktail.

The cocktails came quick and strong, and as we sat on the patio chatting with locals, we almost forgot about our Forktown Food Tours’ brand new “Division Street” tour. We guzzled the last few sips of our drinks, snagged an Uber (which is still new in Portland), and headed to our tour. And boy are we glad we made it.

Beginning at Sen Yai, the tour guided us through the many flavors of Portland cuisine from noodles to tacos, tacos to food pods, food pods to poor man burgers, and poor man burgers to delicious peach pie. Each stop on the tour outshined the next, and filled a void in the overall cuisine scene, only proving that when it comes to cuisine, sure they care about “where the chicken came from,” but they also make sure it tastes delicious, too.

Completely full, we meandered our way back to the hotel to freshen up and explore the city. After stopping for yet another cocktail at Clyde Common, we chatted with a few locals to hear more about the weird city. Did you know in Portland, male strippers are allowed to go full frontal? And they do, but more on that later.

Soon it was time for dinner, and surprisingly we were ready. We arrived at Le Pigeon (and don’t try to pronounce it like a cool Frenchman … it’s exactly what it is) at around 8pm. The small but tasteful restaurant was buzzing with energy. The community tables inside were full of conversations and budding new friendships. The wait benches outside were full of laughter and anticipation. Immediately, I knew this was the place to be in Portland, and we certainly weren’t disappointed. With wine in hand, we dined on a multitude of selections. We started with albacore tuna and butter lettuce, moved on to salmon, smoked artichoke carbonara, and shared what most might describe as “the best burger in Portland.” Le Pigeon really sets the standard when it comes to dining in Portland, but what really sets them apart is their delicious fois gras profiteroles.

Rolling out of dinner, we almost didn’t think there was any energy left to muster, but in the backs of our minds we knew the strippers were calling our names. Immediately walking into Silverado, you know it’s a strip club, and you definitely know things might get weird, which explains how we were instantly greeted by a swinging (and very exposed) penis. Whoohoo! The next few hours flew by — a few lap dances, a handful of strong and cheap drinks, and before we knew it we were face down on our hotel room beds, tired and rolling with laughter.

Waking up, we made our way to the infamous “breakfast room 215” down the hall from our room, and enjoyed a European-style breakfast. Today would be the day we took an adventure around the city. Beginning at the farmers’ market located at Portland State University, we sampled wine, fresh jam, and all the hazelnuts imaginable. From there, we found ourselves thumbing through the books at Powell’s, and ultimately exploring the shops in the Pearl District, which led us to The Parish for dinner where we ate, drank, and chatted with our bartender Moses until we could barely see straight.

And that was day two.

Day three in Portland took our adventure to wine country. We made the 30-minute excursion to Ponzi Wines in Sherwood, Oregon. A family-made farm, Ponzi Wines strives to produce only the finest Pinot Noir. Granted it isn’t their only wine, but it’s the wine that started it all … and it’s pretty damn good.

Spending the day in wine country, I realized there’s something very magical about Portland. You can have it all. Wine country. Mountains. The beach. A thriving city life. It’s all there, and it’s all within reach. As we made our way back into the city, I needed to explore even more, and that’s when I found it … The Stag. Now I can only compare The Stag to our very own Boyztown. Maybe you don’t openly brag about going there, but every time you do, it’s a damn good time. Dancers at The Stag are also allowed to go fully nude, but most of them don’t. The atmosphere lends itself to more bar than club, and more casual than sexual. There are hot guys to chat with and comfy chairs to sit and watch them dance. While Silverado definitely felt more like a strip club, The Stag felt more like a sexy party. Both fun and great, but serving two different purposes in the overall lay of the land.

Our final day in Portland, I was determined to find one more thing. A donut, and no … not Voodoo Doughnuts (even though it is their birthplace); I wanted to try Blue Star Donuts. Biting into a blueberry bourbon basil donut, I felt my mouth quiver in excitement. As much as I wanted to savor each bite, I found myself eating faster and faster until finally there was nothing but the lingering crumbs all over my hands … and I ate those, too. My trip to Portland was complete.

No, I didn’t spend my days exploring the museums, and walking around zoo, but there’s no denying the quality of the experience — the rare feeling of really living like a local in a completely foreign city, and spending your days doing exactly what you would do if you were home … hanging out and exploring. And even though I didn’t see anything too “weird,” I bet if I’d stayed a just little longer I would’ve definitely found something. Until next time, Portland, keep it weird.