Maxwell and I went to lunch at the Horse Brass, one of those Portland institutions that I could never quite understand. 

Maxwell likes pot pies, and Shepard's pie and fish and chips. 

I blame his anglophile tastes on his father, but whatever the source he has them and if you slap a crust on gravy he is in.

I am not such a big fan of British food, and only went to humor him. 

I ordered a salad, which in retrospect was probably a mistake.  The lettuce was the dark green outer leaves that you generally throw away.  They were limp and looked like something you would feed a pet turtle. 

You could collect your salad trimmings all week for Timmy the Turtle and pile it on a plate, and it would look exactly like the salad I paid $9.00 for.

Mark and I had dinner out at Broder   on the 22nd, to take advantage of having my mom in town to provide childcare.
This was our second meal, we had breakfast there last summer.
Both times have been really lovely.
It happens to be in a cute little neighborhood right next to where I work.  I like cute, charming and quaint.  I was happy to be in a quiet place.
The space used to one of my favorite restaurants, which went out of business, so I was glad that something nice went in, instead of just another hipster bar, or pub. 

A cocktail with beet juice and caraway seed!

Smorgasbord, carrot soup, and more BEETS! 

pretty entrance

I'm a little tired, but that's ok, it's pretty dark and no one was very fancy or good looking.

Sparkly vintage dresses across the street.

Nuestra Cocina

It felt like it had been ages since Mark and I had spent any time together, so I suggested we go out to dinner Friday evening.
We went to a place neither of us had been before, which is something of a crapshoot, but this time we won, with Nuestra Cocina and upscale Mexican place, with a sweet outdoor seating area, close to home, not to noisy, good service and a pretty interesting menu.  Mark's mother was good enough to watch Freyja for a couple of hours, so there was no pressure to find something she would eat, and no cutting up to do.  Maxwell was off at a friend's house for the night, so we were feeling pretty lucky.

Finishing up at work for the week

changing, but refusing to iron, thus looking like an unmade bed. Tired  and a little piggy faced by 6:00pm.

Keeping things modest with a sweet, little horseshoe pin from Lily.

How lucky am I?  To find orange, Dansko sandals at Goodwill!

refusing to drive.

so, so margaritas, excellent atmosphere.

soup for Mark

Salad for me, with mango, avocado, pumkin seeds, and jicama

I needed some salt.  Mark said "I hope this isn't one of those places that brings salt in a little dish." Sure enough it was.  "You just never know who's been touching that salt."  Look at me, picking out the tomato skins like a three year old! I really hate skins in my food.  YUCK!

black bean, squash and cactus thing with avacado and fried tortillas.  We both would have been happier with them unfried, but it was good.

nice outdoor seating, that makes you forget you are right on Division!

Mark being very Portlandia, and going to dinner at a fancy place, dressed like a lumber jack, he lacks only a chain dangling from his pocket to hold his wallet in, and an ironic mustache to be totally to type.

An overview of the past week and DOGS

Rolf and his girlfriend met Freyja and me at Bob's Red Mill for breakfast early  last Saturday morning.  These guys tagged along, and were pretty sad to have to wait in the car. 

My insane love for my poodle is well known.  When I see his tiny, little, sweet poodle face at times like this I can't help feeling all mushy inside.  The big, Scoobydoish galoot side kick doesn't exactly harden my heart.  Anyone that isn't touched by the sincerity of these fellows has a heart of stone.

Perfect potatoes from Sauvie Island

Zucchini and Artichokes.  Trader Joes has beautiful, huge artichokes for $1 each

Ripley, stockpiling Freyja's toys in his basket.

aint it funny how an old broken bottle looks just like a diamond ring?

experimenting with black and white.  I think I like it.

 Today was one of those amazing, sunny, brisk Portland days, where everything is green from all the rain.  People were out on the streets like crazy, at school time pick up.

The sky was a beautiful blue and cloudless.

 We decided to stop in at Staccato gelato for a treat on the way home. 

Their donuts are excellent and the gelato is worth writing home about. 

The small size ice cream dishes are super expensive, but if you get a large, you can chose four flavors for $3.75, which is fun, if you are squeamish about sharing ( I am most certainly NOT, however Miss Bootiful Princess often makes a fuss and is not very skilled at sharing).  

We chose chocolate orange, coconut, Peep (you know those hideous marshmallow chicks? ) and white chocolate chunk. 
I usually like to get the pistachio, but the Peeps wanted Peeps.

messing around with color saturation on the camera.

 Maxwell opted not to share very much, he did want a "bite" of the Peep flavor.

Can I have a bite Mommy?  My children's mantra.

and had an Izzy soda and a brownie all to himself.

Freyja has a "pink princess" donut, which reminded me of the strawberry cake my grandma Betty used to make for my birthday.  Try asking your grandma to make a strawberry cake in January in the 70's before it was common to have off season fruit, and you will get a white cake dyed pink with strawberry jam, and nonpareils on top for decoration.                   I have always been high maintenance.

Taking the snow, with the good

Papa Haydn margarita

I really did not need a SNOW day today, geez!  I have so much to do to prepare for that wedding reception... on a positive note,  I went out with the mother of one of Freyja's friend's last evening- dare I call her a friend? I think I will. 

I felt positively giddy to be out, in a nice restaurant and it wasn't even my birthday.  

Hooray for an evening out, and for Papa Haydn East still being lovely after all these years!

Papa Haydn cheesecake

We ate giant slabs of fancy cake and gabbed about how motherhood turns you into a hermit. 

It was hugely liberating.

Not feeling very valentinious

I would have let the day pass, but Mark insisted on going out to dinner.
I loathed the notion of making a reservation, or going anyplace that required me to do more than comb my hair, so I convinced him that the slightly upscale Lebanese place on Hawthorne Tarboush would be a good compromise.
It is housed in an old, nicely restored Victorian, which is little weird for a Lebanese place, but nice if you don't think about it too much.
The food was good, but expensive and that was unsettling, since I kept calculating the cost of garbanzo beans and cringing with each mouthful of hummus.
I love Lebanese food, it is truly something I could eat everyday, but this was a little on the bland and safe side.  Truth be told I love Nicholas the most and nothing will ever be as good for me, but Mark hates the atmosphere, and it does totally suck, so who could blame him?
Me.  I could, because the food is just not as good other places.