Five Senses of Feast

 

Two years ago while visiting Portland with my parents my ears perked up at something I heard on the radio. I only remember sound clips: Sandwich. Invitational. Feast. Portland. Bon Appetit. I was still relatively new to the Pacific Northwest at the time so it was a mystery that grabbed my attention instantaneously. I needed to know more. Upon further Googling I learned 2 things: 1) Feast was an annual multi-day festival held in Portland, sponsored by Bon Appetit, that showcased Oregon’s bounty and featured several renowned Chefs from around the nation. 2) I HAD TO GO.

Fast forward two years to 2017. On the morning of June 2nd I sat at my computer, cheek in hand, impatiently refreshing the page where I’d purchase tickets for the festival once they were released at 11am. The moment struck and after surmounting a delay caused by an overloaded server I was in. I scored tickets to four events: Late Night Adventures in Takeout, The Grand Tasting (like a deluxe weekend costco sample experience), No Kilts Required: American Single Malts and—the piéce de résistance—Tillamook Presents: SMOKED (A BBQ PARTY, YA’LL).

June, July, and the early days of September crawled by, but finally it was time to pack up the Mazda3 and zoom down to Portland for Feast. The weekend unfolded in what I can only describe as a sensory extravaganza. One that I’m going to try and recreate for you now.

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Feast looked like –

  • A series of electric parties across the city accented by thematic mood lighting that gave every event charisma. My favorite was the neon, untraditional at a BBQ event.
  • Crowded, enthusiastic gatherings of all kinds of people—friends and strangers, groups and soloists, from different places, of different generations.
  • A tie-dye of stains on my shirts from who-knows-which saucy snacks.
  • A never ending sea of artistically composed dishes created by chefs whose home restaurants are peppered around the US.
  • A list to which I was always adding, documenting names of new restaurants I otherwise may have remained oblivious to.
  • Caramel colored splashes on my collar from that last whiskey cocktail I shouldn’t have had.

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Feast sounded like –

  • The ubiquitous hiss of raw meats sizzling on grills.
  • Exclamations between guests about which dishes were worth standing in line for—guiding my next move.
  • Bumpin’ music adding to the energy of the night accented by the percussion of iced bourbon cocktails being shaken in both fists by the boisterous bartenders.
  • Soft speaking between members of a restaurant’s staff underneath the tents.
  • The wise words of innovative chefs being interviewed by Bon Appetit’s Adam Rapoport.
  • Clattering of metal stock pots and pans. The metal clapping of tongs.
  • Joy during a time of political turbulence—laughter, casual conversation, excited statements punctuated by each new bite.
  • The low, slow groans of indigestion around 2am.

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Feast felt like –

  • Oregon’s warm September sun, it’s chilly twilight breezes.
  • The crunch of my first air fried dumpling, and the contrasting soft textures of regional cheeses.
  • The delicate balance of my wine glass in one hand and two small paper plates in the other.
  • Warmth from open faced grills.
  • Fumbling with utensils: chopsticks, forks, spoons, skewers.
  • The constant pressure of my finger on the shutter button of my camera.
  • Conflict because my stomach was full but MORE THAN ANYTHING I just wanted to keep eating.

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Feast smelt like –

  • Competing smoky scents from the forest fires of Jolly Mountain and the plumes dancing skyward from the charcoal grills.
  • Complex combinations of spicy aromas characteristic of single malt american whiskies.
  • An amalgam of currently-being-cooked dishes—fermented, peppery, sweet, mesquite, fruity, floral.
  • The perfume of Febreeze inside of a suburban mom’s lyft vehicle.

 

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Feast tasted like –

  • Fruit-forward wines from all over the pacific northwest.
  • Sweet baked goods and fragrant berry jams from local vendors.
  • Unique combinations of sweet and savory ingredients that I would’ve never thought to combine like brussels sprouts and pomegranate seeds.
  • Umami.
  • A just-been-torched s’more donut from Blue Star that was crunchier than I was expecting.
  • The spicy, moist brisket from Langbaan served in a pool of spicy gravy poured from a hot silver kettle, and decorated with flowers that packed a peppery punch that you can’t even imagine.
  • Very high quality hot dogs with very high quality pumped cheese.
  • The kind of tastes that left an impact on your palate, and lingered even after you brushed your teeth—more like a fond memory than an annoyance.

I am so grateful to have had the chance to attend my first Feast. For every moment I was there I was filled with joy and was able to momentarily forget about daily stresses that often overwhelm me. It wasn’t just me, I was surrounded by other people who were just as I happy as I was. I already look forward to the next Feast I’m able to attend. Next time I’ll go to one of the suppers, I won’t miss the Night Market, and I’ll bring more than 2 doses of indigestion tablets.

 

To learn more about the festival check out their website at feastportland.com

 

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Saturday

saturday

Saturday mornings are great, but there is a particular kind of Saturday morning that stands above all the rest for me.

That kind of Saturday begins by waking up gradually and not to the dreaded, repetitive tones of your cell phone’s alarm clock app. Lazily you toss and turn, take your morning dose of social media, and once you feel like your blankets have agreed to set you free you casually make your way to the kitchen.

Within mere minutes the aromas of hot, fresh coffee and over-medium eggs have replaced the morning’s breath (much different than morning breath). It’s quiet, other than your playlist, and you’re able to live slowly. You plan your day — or not — and you’re able to peacefully breathe for a minute, free from the stress off the past week’s responsibilities.

That’s the kind of Saturday morning I’ve had so far and I’m probably enjoying it too much. I have little to no plans of changing out of this baggy sweater any time soon, and there’s probably a second french press in my future (shout out to Caffe Vita for beans that are giving me life).

These are the jams that are on my Saturday playlist today. What kind of Saturday is revitalizing to you?

Glasshouse | Seattle

GlasshouseIMG_7091IMG_7130IMG_7036IMG_7069IMG_7084IMG_7140flowercollageIMG_7092 Volunteer Park Conservatory | Seattle WA


Volunteer park conservatory is in the Capitol Hill neighborhood of Seattle. It was built in 1912, is modeled after London’s Crystal Palace and is home to a wide variety of plants from around the world (including a room full of palms–so trendy right now).

For me, visiting conservatories is always a reminder that taking a break from the screen (phone, emails, Netflix binges)  to focus on the green (nature, of course) is a welcome and necessary break from the static of being constantly on-the-grid.I spend so many hours pounding out emails and double tapping photos of sunsets that sometimes I’m guilty of losing focus on experiencing the majesty of the beautiful place I live. It’s earth day weekend. What are you doing to celebrate?

For When it Rains | Monday Playlist 10.13

forwhenitrains

 

The rainy seasons is upon us in Seattle, and for most people that means the onset of seasonal depression and general loneliness. For me? It’s soup time. Also, I just got a new raincoat and things are about to go from soggy to sassy. Strut through those monday morning rain sprinkles, miss thang.

I’ve got a lot to rave about this week (brace yourselves, posts are actually coming), but on the music front I’ve been obsessed with a few albums: 1) Halfnoise | Volcano Crowe, 2) Childish Gambino | Kauai, and 3) The Preatures | Blue Planet Eyes. Those are the albums I’ve had on loop. There’s a lot of variety genre wise, and you can ride that music wave allll through the week.

This weeks playlist is 100% inspired by the fact that fog and mist are about to be a part of every day of my life for the next few months. Might as well make the most of it, right?

Don’t let the rainy days get you down! Especially rainy Mondays.

Speak to you soon!

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