The year was 1983. Michael Jackson Thrilled us, Madonna made her debut and the only thing bigger than Jennifer Beal’s hair in Flashdance was the birth of Bend’s Biggest Burger.  Now a legend unto itself, the Pilot Butte Burger is still an 18oz Certified Angus Beef burger, erupting with lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, slathered with secret sauce and now locavorized with an 8” Dilluso-baked bun (the 6 oz. version was enough for me, reminiscent of an In and Out burger – animal style).

The original Pilot Butte Drive-In was born out of an old A & W at the foot of Pilot Butte. Even after adding a new Westside location (Century Drive and Simpson) last June, the menu and original recipes have largely remained the same. Decidedly different than its old fashioned, car-hop cousin, the Westside location (Simpson and Century Drive) is not a drive-in at all. Previously occupied by Tony’s Delicatessen, the space is freshly modern, with vaulted ceilings, a shiny bar-top with seating along the front windows and sleek booths with moveable table-top partitions.

"Gooey and Drippy"

“Gooey and drippy” were the founders’ requirements for an authentic Pilot Butte Burger. After careful calculations, I can attest that this legacy endures. The Hawaiian burger gushes with a teriyaki-sauced pineapple ring, thinly sliced ham and cheddar smothering a 6oz. patty nesting on secret sauce and shredded lettuce.  Against all odds, the bun stands up to the stacked, saucy interior.

The Not-So Mini $3 Burger

After School or apres ski, their Happy Hour can’t be beat.  Weekdays from 3 to 5 the menu boasts burgers, mini meals and treats, all under $6.  A mini burger with fries and a soda is just $3.  Their greasy spoon breakfasts are priced to please as well: Five options are promised to be ready in “five to ten for $5″ (from 7 to 11 am). The English muffin french toast with sausage and eggs ($6.99) was dessert for breakfast sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar, whipped butter seeping into the caverns of the muffin and powdered sugar snow melting as it met my mouth.

No one’s showing up for heart-healthy food, low-cal snacks, or lightly steamed vegetables (these don’t exist here). But people are showing up. And they have been for 28 years. Not just burgers, shakes and chicken fried steaks… “Quality food and large portions” is their credo and they’re still living up to it.  With bellies full and cravings conquered, we wade through ankle-deep slush, and parking lot puddles, knowing full well that, of course, the West side is the best side.

Confessions of a Recessionista…

I had nearly curbed my eating-out-for-lunch habit in an attempt to save money, when along came Pho Viet Café, on third street in Bend.  (It’s pronounced ”Fuh”, as in “Fu*#! this is good”.) With a menu focused around various bowls of noodle soup, Pho Viet is the first and only authentic Vietnamese food to come to Bend.  I have to admit it, I’m hooked.  I try to resist it– the do-it-yourself condiments, the clump of rice noodles nestled in the bottom, the medium rare eye-round in the “P2″ floating effortlessly in the steaming aromatic broth until cooked through.  As I said, I try to resist it.  Most of the time I can.

But then there’s yoga, with a reward of Veggie Pho.  The co-worker bonding bowl of Pho, evolving to a Veggie Pho with beef broth.  Two days later, lunch out with my man.  Each bowl arriving of course with the usual accompaniments; basil, jalapenos, bean sprouts, lime, hoisin and rooster sauce.

My standard until recently, the P2 had to step aside this week while I ventured into unknown territory to try both the chicken and the tofu Phad Thai, the fried veggie spring rolls, and the fresh salad rolls with tofu.

I ordered the P1 to go once, and the tall, smiling man that took my order paused and reverberated: “P1…”and then he added “because you want to BE numba one” laughing and walking away.  Whoa! Sarcasm? Or mind reader?  Either way, that takes balls. It turned out to be an interesting mix of beef, along with the beef broth, and rice noodles. There was brisket, eye round, strange soft meatballs, leans and riches, and tendons(?!?!) I presume the leans and riches were the white, sea-like creatures I had never seen before.  Shocked the Pho out of me.  But nothing ever does, so I liked it.

On my fourth visit that week, I was headed out the door when one of the owners thanked me.  I said “see you soon”, to which he replied, “like in 24 hours, haahaahaa”.

I don’t know what’s in that jasmine tea, or wether or not they stir a little crack into that Pho broth.  But somehow, I dropped $50 bucks this week without a single bite of regret.

Pho Viet Cafe

1326 NE 3rd Street (hwy 97) Bend, OR

541-382-2929

Rusty Boar Brings About The Brix

Enjoyed a bottle of Rusty Boar last night with good company.  And then another! I was pleased to find such a hardy, Washington red wine (undefined blend) in a screw top, with a nine dollar price tag—and was surprised at its suppleness after decanting.  (Find it at Whole Foods for a limited time.)  It had big blue fruit, but was it sweet?  The Brix scale was briefly brought up, and we realized we were at a loss to define what the numbers meant, other than knowing they measured the sugar content of a solution, like wine.

I decided to investigate.  There in “The Story of Wine”, an old wine service pamphlet my friend had in the vaults, I stumbled across the answer along with these other terms-I-thought-I-knew as well:

Reaffirm your wine knowledge or learn with me:

Ampelography- the study of grape varieties

AVA- (American Viticulture area)- a delimited, geographical grape-growing area that has officially been given appellation status by the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms.  Two examples are Napa Valley and Sonoma Valley.

Appelation: Defines the area where a wine’s grapes were grown.  Regulations vary from country to country.  In order to use an appellation on a California wine label, for example, 85% of the grapes used to make the wine must be grown in the specified district.

AOC- Appelation D’Origine Controlee- the French system of appellations, begun in the 1930’s.  To carry an appellation in this system, a wine must follow rules describing the area the grapes are grown in, the varieties used, the ripeness, the alcoholic strength, the vineyard yields and the methods used in growing the grapes and making the wine.

Botrytis Cinerea- Called the “Noble Rot”.  A beneficial mold or fungus that attacks grapes under certain climatic conditions and causes them to shrivel, deeply concentrating the flavors, sugar, and acid.  Some of the most famous examples come from Sauternes, and Germany.

Brix- the scale that measures sugar content of grapes, must, and wine, indicating the degree of the grapes’ ripeness (meaning sugar level) at harvest.  Most table wine grapes are harvested at between 21 and 25 Brix.  To get an alcohol conversion level, multiply the stated Brix by.55.

Tartrates- harmless crystals of potassium bitartrate that may form in cask or bottle (often on the cork) from the tartaric acid normally present in wine

Adapted from:

The Story of Wine

Published/re-published by Phoenix Wine and Spirits Inc

From the Thin Man character, Nick Charles: “The important thing is the rhythm. Always have rhythm in your shaking. Now a Manhattan you shake to fox-trot time, a Bronx to two-step time, a dry martini you always shake to waltz…”

When the days get shorter, the air gets crisp and winds of change blow cold into my open window, I have to stop just for a moment… and mourn the sweetness found in summer.   Sangria in the sunshine.  Rose in the shade. Cold Pinot Blanc by the river as the shit-show-on-wheels goes pedal-pubbing past.  Defying tradition with wine stained lips by the lake… cold Pinot Noir from the cooler…plump, ripe, and awkward heirlooms …walking barefoot on thyme…the crisp starchy-sweetnes of corn as it bursts between my typewriter teeth.

I strolled through the final farmer’s markets of the year today, noticing summer’s bounty waning.  Summer’s fruits become winter’s roots.  But then I smiled, remembering the pot of gold at the end of summer’s rainbow—Harvest time!

Time to get out of town, hit the open road, and get to where the wine is still on the vine.  So long Summer, old friend.

Breakfast is served

It was a Saturday night in early autumn, (and it still makes me laugh as if yesterday.)

I saw a poster for a band near the Crystal Ballroom.  Now, I have been known to be wrong, but I swear it said “Gaycation” on that poster.   It definitely had an island vacation theme to it.

I was laughing about this poster the next day at noon, hung-over, trying to recount each and all of the funny moments from the night before.  With blood sugar wavering and blood alcohol levels dangerously low, we saw Starky’s ahead on the left.  Breakfast? Check.  Patio? Check.  Full Bar? Sold.  The shaded patio was definitely ablaze with Sunday people and mid-day sunshine, but we were all the way inside before we realized that the place was actually (practically) on fire.  There were rainbows everywhere, and understated hipster flamboyancy was all a-bloom.

Our server, possibly also the bartender, promptly delivered a nice bloody mary with a salted rim and a champagne split with oj on the side.  Cracka-lacka. (That’s the sound of a screw top singing gospel on a Sunday morning).  OJ on the side?  I like it.  I was referred to as sweetie, and informed that I could order a bottomless mimosa for only $7, (grin) but stuck with the $4 original.  Was that a promise or a challenge??!  I love this place.  Our simple breakfasts (bacon and eggs, and spinach topped with eggs and cheese) came with toast, jelly, a small piece of watermelon and even a brownie for dessert.  The heavy silver and linen napkin classed up the meal but couldn’t disguise the fact that this was a dive, after all.

Weather it’s the bacon or the Bloody, the sassy service or the bottomless mimosas that tempt you, have your next Portland Hangover Breakfast at Starky’s.

Breakfast with a lisp and a smile, including drinks- $24.  Novelty Lighter from the store next door (which had a sticker on it picturing a creepy, tan, muscled stud resembling Napolean Dinamite’s Uncle Rico in heat-sensitive-briefs),$1. Sighting of mustached lady at the cafe accross the street, Free.  Unexpected gaycation in Portland? Priceless.

Starky’s, Stark and 30th, Portland OR

Bottomless $7 mimosa’s on Sundays

11 am to 2 am mon to sat

Sunday 9am to 2am

I am an opinionated person.  I know what I like, and don’t like.  I am tactlessly forthwright, unaware of feelings trampled as I laugh and tell you “sorry, the editor was NOT at the desk on that one.”

Take my opinions or leave them.  But if you take them, please do so with a grain of salt. (Mediteranean Sea Salt would be best.)

And let me just say for the record, that I am no expert. (Obviously)  I am not professionally trained in English grammar or the culinary arts.  I have read Wine for Dummies, but I am still a Dummy.

So please, take lightly my back-of-the-hand disclosures.  Be not offended by my sarcasm, my occasional political and cultural slurs, or my tendency towards prejudicial pidgeon-holing.  I mean no harm, and do my best to keep it positive by only writing about places I’d recommend.

I think I’m fair.  But life isn’t.

So as you read my writing, don’t get all worked up if I mis-spell something, mis-state something, or if I’m just flat out full of bull.  But tell me about it.  Feel free to correct me anytime, for any reason by clicking on the link here or on the link on the home page called “criticize us”.

I only shoot blanks…but I do so from the hip.  If you have something to say, fire on back…

We arrived at the Oregon Spirit Distillers tasting room thirsty with anticipation.  Off of Butler Market Road on Bend’s NE side, the bottling facility and tasting room are open to the public on Saturdays, or by appointment.  We were excited to try their Oregon Spirit Vodka,(on shelves in select Oregon liquor stores since December 2010).

Oregon Spirit Vodka Standing Tall

It was a family affair meeting the Irwins.  Kathy, co-owner and marketing director was busy with Savannah, the six-year old bottling intern and mini-micro-manager.  Brad, the head distiller and Certified Spirit Specialist was busy making booze. Warm and welcoming, they invited us in with a handshake and offered us the grand tour– or just the tasting.

Not being crazy, we took them up on the tour, and followed Brad into the warehouse.  The first piece of equipment we came to was the Agitator.  Big enough to handle 500lbs. of locally sourced Pendleton Mills flour, the agitator mixes the flour with water, which releases the starch out of the flour and into the mash.  Enzymes are then added which break down the starch into sugar over a six-hour time frame.

On that day, a marionberry mash was in the fermenter–a gorgeous purple liquid soon to be distilled into a private reserve batch of Marionberry Liquer.  One of the important decisions in designing their process was to choose the right yeast, which breaks down the sugars into alcohol.  A “burley” champagne-style proprietary yeast from Denmark was the final choice, due to its high tolerance of temperature changes during fermentation and it’s ability to survive high alcohol percentages, usually 12-14% after five days in the tank.  Yeast choice was an important one when considering the big picture price of building the business.  Tens of thousands were saved avoiding the more costly insulated tanks required for beer and wine fermenting, where even slight temperature fluctuations can lead to negative changes in the flavor profile.  Because vodka is distilled, these changes have a much lesser effect on the end result of a spirit.

Black Mariah Marionberry Liquer

The Cote pot still, which is a beauty in it’s own right, arrived on a boat from Germany and was pieced together and assembled over a six month time period.  It’s job? To heat the fermented liquid mash until vaporized and then condense it back down to a liquid.  From there, the distilled spirits are filtered through charcoal, and then bottled.  Minimal but sufficient filtration takes the nostril-burning quality out of the finished product, refining it, while still leaving the sweetness of the Pendleton wheat behind.

What an interesting process…Who knew I’d absorb more than just a little vodka??

In the tasting room, we sampled the vodka made from wheat, and also a Rye vodka they had been playing with.  What a contrast!  The wheat vodka was slightly sweet, full bodied, and hinted at vanilla.  The Rye had a peppery taste, and was like nothing I had tasted before.  A Martini Maven, I would probably still prefer the more filtered, clean tasting vodkas for martinis.  But I found this one to be impressively unique, and think it’s flavor and body would be well suited for a morning bloody, a madras, or an afternoon screw. (Screwdriver that is.)

We were sad that we had come too soon to taste the marionberry liquer we had seen in the fermentation tank, or the small batch bourbon aging in oak barrels in the warehouse.  Also to be released in the near future was Oregon Spirit Distillers Absinthe, a licorice flavored liquer aged with wormwood, historically rumored to be hallucinogenic (and perhaps even an aphrodisiac?)

Pick up a bottle of Oregon Spirit Distillers Vodka at local liquor stores, or look for it at one of your favorite watering holes: 900 Wall, The Brickhouse by the Old Mill, or Five Fusion, where Brad can be found mixing cocktails several nights a week.

Could we come back next Saturday, and the one after that?  Maybe we were pushing it.  One thing is for sure though, Oregon Spirit Distillers are a local dog—a good dog. And being young, they are still learning new tricks.

Oregon Spirit Distillers

490 NE Butler Market Road, Bend, OR

541-382-0002

Sometimes small disappointments lead to greater things…This was a recent case:

I’d had my heart set on The Brick House in Redmond, thinking that they were open for lunch.  At three in the afternoon we approached, only to find they don’t open until four.  The disappointment began to set in.  We decided to stroll.

A block or so away we saw a sign for Diego’s Spirited Kitchen.  My stomach said “Feeeeeed me Seymour“…so we ducked inside.

My first instinct was to go for a Margarita.  (But then, that’s often my first instinct.)  I opened the wine list.  WOW.  Maybe wine?  The dinner menu was an eclectic mix of Italian, Mexican, Southwest and American, making it hard to decide.  In the end, I gave in to my craving for something rich:  Dungeness Crab and Shrimp Stuffed Ravioli in a Lobster Cream Sauce.  Usually the Queen of Substitutions, I was hard pressed to find a need to alter it as described.

The soup of the day was Pork Posole.  I had gone with an Italian dish on a menu heavily influenced by Mexico and the Southwest.  Perhaps I should try the soup (and a margarita to keep it company before the pasta arrived wouldn’t hurt.)

My friend then ordered the Pork Verde and the waiter nodded.  I learned later that it was not even ON THE MENU.  I had ordered straight off the menu for once.  I had been outdone.

Seafood Ravioli in Lobster Cream Sauce

The circular, homemade Ravioli were stuffed with lumps of Dungeness crab and slices of succulent shrimp.  I would willingly drown myself in the thick, rich, perfectly reduced lobster cream sauce that was ladled on top.  Even the garnish, a small piece of chiabata bread, was not overlooked.  Marked from the grill, it was still soft with butter and garlic in the middle.  I used it to soak up the last of the smooth, creamy sauce from the bowl, longing for a time when I didn’t know that licking it was poor etiquette.  One ravioli remained.

I took pause to appreciate all things good: time on my hands, rich food, the best Don Julio Margarita made for me this year, and good company.

Which reminded me:  Pork Verde!  Across the table my friend had waged a war in silence and here I sat with little interest, captive to my own carnal needs.   I feared he had reached defeat.  But I…I had a second wind.   We switched plates so I could try a bite…..and I had eight.  And it was not even on the menu!  I had definitely been outdone.

On subsequent visits we were equally impressed with the food and found the service to be consistently attentive.  ”Ossobuco” was defined by the server without hesitation.  Our martinis were dry, shaken hard, and slightly dirty.  An aerator was offered in lieu of a decanter for a bottle of Bordeaux we brought in.

Pork Ossobucco

The Wild Mushroom and Boursin Cheese dip on visit three was a perfect start; earthy, rich, and easy to spread on the grilled garlic chiabata bread.  The scallops on visit two tasted fresh and were topped with a crab and seafood stuffing under a drizzle of Lobster cream sauce.  It was out of loyalty, not lack of choices that I enjoyed the Pork Ossobucco twice.  Both times it was falling off the bone atop garlic mashed potatoes, with one of the richest rosemary demis I’ve ever tasted.  (For just $22, it’s a steal.)  My only regret? That I didn’t notice ’till we were leaving that they made table-side gaucamole.  Next time, I told myself.  And there will definitely be a next time.

Diego’s Spirited Kitchen

447 SW 6th Street, Redmond, OR

541-316-2002