She Broke Breakfast

Had a nice chat with Amanda Mull from The Atlantic about why Americans tend to only eat certain stuff for breakfast. Check it out!

In the 1970s, Pizza Joints Pulled Out All the Stops

Remember eating pizza with your family while the dulcet tones of Pinball Wizard tore loose from a Wurlitzer pipe organ? The 1970s were real special times. I wrote about the Organ Grinder and the history of pipe organ pizza joints for Taste.

Put Down the Pitchforks and Pick Up the Corn Dogs

Shit’s been getting pretty real in Portland food media lately. The sudden closure of a two-Becky-owned burrito joint has caused indignant accusations of cultural appropriation (both from the “how dare you, sir” and “what’s the big deal” sides), widening the rift between SJWs and white supremacists. 

Putting things into perspective

Last night Scott and I were wandering downtown after a couple drinks and some comic book shopping, and stopped into a new little French bistro for dinner. We took a seat in the half-full Chez Joly and ordered up a few items from the modestly-priced 

A Tale of Two Cities

…and their respective Meatloaf Sammiches. Warning: iPhone photos ahead! Apologies for the powdered milk patina. So, I’ve been out of town a lot for work. It’s a controversial project that I can’t discuss, but I do a lot of driving and hiking. In the rain. 

Japadog and Guu

Vancouver is to Japanese restaurants as Portland/Seattle is to coffee shops. Which is to say, there is a fuckton of Japanese food here. We sort of knew this; I mean, we knew we couldn’t afford to spend as much time in Japan this fall that 

Oh Shit, We Are in Canada! Part I: Jade Dynasty

So, sorry I haven’t been around much. I was in the field all last week with no internet (except on my phone, like I’m gonna blog on that thing), and yesterday Scott and I got a wild hair up our asses and came to Vancouver, 

Happy as a Clam

I am, but not because we ate here. Let me back up. We went to the beach today, as is our wont on 100+-degree days. Today, by some twist of full moon Twilight Zone disturbia, it took us about three hours to make the 80 

Clinton Corner Cafe

Portland is a brunch town. God help you if you want to eat some eggs on a Saturday morning. On weekends, even regular blue-collar lunch counters become “brunch places” packed with hipsters willing to wait an hour for some eggs and hash browns. Some places 

Good Taste Noodle House

See also Stuff White People Like #71. I am totally guilty of this, by the way. I can eat completely mediocre food in a slightly dingy joint, but if Scott and I are the only white people, it’s Fucking Amazing, and The Best-Kept Secret in