3 Hours in the Hot Cake House: The Documentary

Hot Cake House: The Vigil from Zanny Allport on Vimeo.

Broder

On the last day of my project, I stop in for some frukost (Swedish for breakfast) at Broder Café on SE Clinton St. There is a short wait, but they’ve opened up a waiting area in next-door Savoy Tavern where there are tables and fresh coffee. Inside, Broder gives off a sort of nouveau country house feel, with brightly painted chairs, small granite tables, wooden floors, lots of light, mirrors, and a big open stainless steel kitchen area. It feels modern and warm. I wonder if they got any of their décor from Ikea. I hate to use “cute” as an adjective, but Broder certainly fits the bill. There are no more than twelve small tables in the entire place; I can see how it would be very packed on weekends. But luckily, Broder is worth the wait.I order the Ableskiver (Danish pancakes) and Gabby orders Pytt I Panna (Swedish hash). Other Scandinavian specialties they promote include poundcake French toast, Bords (which offer a spread of cheese, ham, soft boiled egg, fruit, yogurt, and brown bread), and a special Lefsa, which is a flatbread, which today is wrapped around apples and cheese. As we wait for our food loud poppy music plays, casting an upbeat mood. I can discern a Talking Heads song. The place isn’t self-consciously “trendy” but does seem to attract a mostly 20-year-old hipster crowd, although it is also family friendly. As we wait for our food I begin to see how Broder could maybe be too cutesy for some people. But the true verdict depends on the food.My Danish pancakes arrive on a charming little wooden board. They are light, fluffy balls of delight. Cooked perfectly, steaming, with a light dust of powdered sugar on them. They come with a lemon custard and lingonberry jam to dip in. Gabby’s Pytt I Panna comes in a miniature skillet painted bright orange. Talk about pleasant presentation. Her hash, which features potatoes, ham, roast beef, pickled beets, and baked eggs also comes with a homemade walnut toast. The hash tastes great but is a little on the salty side. Broder is among one of my favorite spots I visited overall. They really do all of the little things right, in addition to having superb food. A special atmosphere, exciting cuisine, charming presentation, and friendly wait staff all make for an incredibly unique experience. Verdict? I’ve gotta atervanda!

Goodbye, OHS

Today, I made my third and final trip to the Oregon Historical Society to dig through archived photos and menus from old P-town diners dating all the way back to the 30's. I gathered some great materials, and got to look at more pictures historic Portland than I could've ever imagined. I highly highly highly recommend the research library at the OHS for anyone who is doing a research project or is just curious about the past. I know it sounds nerdy, but its super enriching--from articles, to menus, to photos, to portraits to maps. Plus it's really fun to snoop in on all of the interesting things the other researchers are looking into. And only $5 for a student? What a steal!

E-interview with Slappy Cakes!

Today I heard back from Ashley Berry over at Slappy Cakes via e-mail. Here's what she had to say in response to my questions:

1) Can you tell me a little bit more about your backyard garden? How much of your food comes from there? Is the garden model advantageous financially?
Our garden is an attempt to reduce the "food miles" associated with our restaurant. We will eventually catch rainwater and make our own soil also. How much we can harvest depends on the season, but we always have herbs going. The garden will eventually be profitable, but we have a lot to learn by trial until that happens. If you would like to see the garden just ask the next time you are in!

2) Slappy Cakes is still less than a year old, what was the hardest part of starting a new restaurant?
The hardest part of starting a project like this is grasping the actual size of it, it always takes much more work, money, and time than originally anticipated (but especially money).

3) How much of your food do you try to source locally?
We try to get all of our produce locally, but this also depends on the season. Our meats are always local.

4) What type of person would you say comprises your clientele base? Did you have a “target audience” in mind, so to speak, when you opened the restaurant?
Slappy Cakes was intended to be for anybody wanting a fun and unique dining experience, and we see every type of person eating here. Our target audience is anybody who loves fun breakfast!

My worst fear, confronted

I was so relieved today to see a post on Amateur Gourmet that addressed an issue that I've come face-to-face with on the daily during my project: taking pictures of your food. I love what he has to say. For those who won't read the entire blog, check out some excerpts I grabbed:

"It forces you to pause and consider what's in front of you. Animals devour food indiscriminately; as humans, we have the capacity to appreciate our food in a way that they don't. Not just aesthetically (though that's important) but also spiritually; if we're eating a rabbit, perhaps it's worthwhile to pause and consider the fact that a rabbit died so that we can eat dinner.

Taking pictures of your food also allows you to create an archive of experience that transports you, instantly, back to a specific place in time.

Finally, taking pictures of your food opens up a dialogue between you and the people serving you. Some restauranteurs will ask you bluntly "are you a food blogger?"; other times they'll ask "Do you mind if I ask what you're taking pictures for?" Either way, you end up engaging the people who make and serve food for a living on a subject for which you share an equal passion. Many a great conversation has started for me that way and it's all because I was taking pictures of what I was eating."

And now, a quote from La Rochefoucauld: "to eat is a necessity, but to eat intelligently is an art."

Toast: Two Interviews

review here

INTERVIEW WITH OWNER, JOHN



INTERVIEW WITH HEAD CHEF

Interview with John Taboada, Owner of Navarre

John Taboada in front of his restaurant, Navarre

After Mark and I had breakfast this morning at Toast, I met up with John Taboada at his restaurant Navarre on NE 28th Ave. When I walked into Navarre the CLOSED sign was hanging and all of the chairs were stacked on the tables. A chef was in the kitchen chopping vegetables, and three other staff were floating about prepping for dinner. John walked in a few minutes later, a little flustered. When he came in it seemed everyone had a question for him. One woman asked him about entering the details of a featured beer onto the computer, another asked him how to prepare some item of food she’d never dealt with. He seemed very popular. Finally John answered all of them and we were able sit down at a table outside on busy 28th ave together for a few minutes to talk.

John is a very, very cool guy who I have tons of respect for. I’ve attached the audio file (its about twenty minutes), you should listen in to the interview, John has some very interesting things to say. He’s so unpretentious (to the point of irreverence, which I love) and down to earth it was amazing. I sound SO annoying throughout the whole thing and say “yeah” or “right” every other second, but if you can look beyond that you should download the audio file.



It doesn't seem like the player is working. Try these links to download it and then open it up in iTunes:

Download the audio clip:
HERE (Media Fire):
http://www.mediafire.com/?mqmmtwngigo
or
HERE (File Factory):
Download 20100527 151036 2.mp3 from FileFactory.com

A quiet interior of Navarre before the dinner rush

Reading List

Two books to add to the food-related reading list. Shout out to my homegirl Nance L for her recommendation of MFK Fisher.

The draw of this book, for me, is its synthesis of literature and food. It's essentially an anthology or compilation of meditations (both sincere and satirical) on food from a range of literary sources--from Winnie the Pooh to D.H. Laurence to John Keats to Virginia Woolf. Mary Frances Kennedy Fisher was a prolific and seminal writer beginning in the 1930's all the way through the 90's until her death in 1992. She dealt mostly with food in her writing. What I like about her is her charming style and her approach to food from so many different angles--especially through a cultural and historical lens.

Cricket Cafe

Slappy Cakes

PRE FLIP

POST FLIP

The Vigil

On Saturday night, Eddie and I held a 3.5 hour vigil at The Original 24-Hour Hot Cake House on Powell blvd. We arrived at 11:30pm and stayed until around 3AM. I'm currently in the process of compiling a short documentary about our experiences there (this will probably be shown during my presentation), but I have to work out the audio because the background noise is completely overbearing in all of the footage.

Until the film is produced, here are a few photos.

A major inspiration of the undertaking was this This American Life episode, where Ira Glass and his team decide to spend a full 24-hours in a 24-hour diner in Chicago, The Golden Apple, interviewing every single patron in the joint. Unfortunately, due to lack of courage and resources, Eddie and I could only aspire to do it as big-scale as they did.

Regardless, the episode is really great, so if you have a second, it's worth your time. Some incredibly rich stories and characters. LISTEN HERE.
(Thanks to Nancy D. for recommending I listen to it!)

Sanborn's

“I don’t know what it was, we just had this, this amazing...energy...at the Seattle show” a big man with wild salt and pepper-colored curls exploding in every direction from his had.
“See, I'm just not on the same page here” a woman with short hair and a floral jacket objects. “During the Seattle set, I was feelin' this magical energy way up here,” she motions with her hands, setting a bar above her head, “but then all the sudden, you started making a speech, and we just...lost it,” dropping her hand dramatically to the table, rattling silverware and cups.
A band with five animated, 30-something year-olds joins us early-on in our meal at Sanborn’s. In the quiet, mostly empty space, their passionate conversation carries throughout the restaurant, making it hard not to listen in on. I imagine they play poppy, punk-type music. I try to match each of them up with an instrument. I pin the tan guy in a fedora as the bassist, but can’t quite nail down the rest.
In its eighth year of business, Sanborn’s is perched understatedly on the corner of Milwaukee and Kelly Street, just down the block from the historical Aladdin Theater. The dark purple tavern-y exterior is misleading—insight is bright and quaint. The interior features a white tiled floor and white table clothes. It felt a bit too sterile for me. Music seems prominent throughout the space—from the “seat yourself” sign scrawled over music scores, to the piano featuring a few albums set out on top of it. Ironically, besides soft chattering at tables, the place is nearly silent. The kitchen is out of sight, each time our waitress reports to the kitchen she disappears behind a corner. This was the first place I’d visited where the kitchen was nowhere to be found.
But while the atmosphere isn’t remarkable, the food certainly is. I order the blueberry waffle (made with Oregon blueberries), which came cooked perfectly, dusted with powdered sugar, and with warm blueberry compote for syrup. Keenan orders Bee’s special, a basic egg-bacon-pancake set-up, while Colin orders the apple German pancake. The warm caramelized apples in the custard-y, cinnamon-y pancake is something special. If I were to return I would order the waffle or the pancake again.
Or maybe I’d muster the courage to order their infamous “Bam Cake”- an apple German pancake stuffed with bacon, served with maple syrup. German pancakes have gotta be their specialty, they sure make a damn good ones.

Fat Albert's

A clever sandwich board outside of Fat Albert’s reads “a waist is a terrible thing to mind.” In a sense, the sign sums up the personality of Fat Albert’s Breakfast Café on Milwaukee Street in Sellwood. Friendly, quirky, settling into its SE niche. The joint has been around for nine years, before being inhabited by Albert’s the space was filled by a barbershop.

When I ask why the name Fat Albert’s, our waitress chuckles, shrugs her shoulders, and squints one eye in an effort to recall.
“Hm, I don’t remember where that came from. It’s fun though, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it’s great…” my dad and I agree. It sounded like she’d been around from the start.

The space is long and narrow, cement floors and ceilings revealing the overhead piping render the atmosphere airy, light, and open. Our waitress ushers us to a wooden table painted bright turquoise. Under the specials board by the door a toddler with curly cherub locks wheels a yellow truck from a toy basket around on the floor. A young family, a few couples, and individual “regulars” fill the joint. In fact, regulars abound during the time I’m there. One man gets up periodically and refills his own coffee cup, another pays at the counter, chatting with the waitress while shoving the last crusts of wheat toast into his mouth.
As our waitress hands us to our yellow menus, I glimpse a chef in the back rhythmically breaking dozens of eggs into a large container. The many yokes, packed tightly together, picked up the yellow of the menu, and matched its offerings too. Fat Albert’s menu is egg-centric, featuring omelets like “The Garbage Grinder” and “The Salad Eater.” But the menu is balanced, egg dishes complemented by classics like biscuits and gravy, breakfast burrito, pancakes, the works. I choose “The Old Fashioned”—a sort of sampler plate with eggs, sausage, “browns,” and a biscuit. My dad goes with the Salad Eater veggie omelet. At the bottom of the menu I notice a plea: “on busy days, no campers please!” I guess it’s a busy place on the weekends.Fat Albert’s takes pride in the provenance of its food. A note at the top of the menu calls attention to their use of real butter, fresh roasted signature blend by Schondecken coffee roasters, bread from Grand Central Bakery, and biscuits baked fresh each morning.
Our food arrives—my eggs are cooked perfectly, coupled with the meat and potatoes the plate forms an ideal savory breakfast. But what really seals the deal is the homemade biscuit. It’s light and fluffy, smothered with butter and raspberry jam. Dad sings Salad Eater praises too.

By the time we’re done eating it’s around 12 o’clock. Our waitress swings by to top-off my coffee then retreats to the back of the restaurant to nosh on her own plate of food. I figure noon is a slow time for business. Nothing’s changed on Milawaukee street as we emerge, satiated and content. Grey clouds shroud the sun, drizzle keeps the pavement slick. The only sunshine in sight is the smiling sun painted on the sign above the door of Fat Albert’s as we depart.