cia – Page 128 – Writing With My Mouth Full

Where to eat in Hood River, Oregon: Celilo

After a half-day of snowboarding for the first time in two years, we were famished. Next to the Oak Street Hotel was Brian’s Pourhouse. It came recommended by the front desk, but we decided to skip it after we noticed the TV at the bar. Across the street was Three Rivers Grill. We crossed to check out the menu but stopped halfway after we saw the large sign up front: “Buy one steak, get another free. Wednesday nights.” During our drive down from Mt. Hood, I remembered seeing a restaurant that looked nice, so I coerced the Dr. to walk a few more blocks to check it out. (Our legs were sore, so walking took some convincing.) As soon as we saw that there were lamb chops on the menu, we walked in Celilo.

We knew we wanted a local Pinot Noir. We only ordered half of the Elk Cove because we wanted to start with a dirty martini–the Dr.’s latest drink–and the pear-flavored champagne, described as “pure Oregon in a glass”. We started with half a dozen of the oysters. A year ago, there was a warning not to eat oysters from the Pacific Northwest. I haven’t heard any bad news since then but they were as salty and sweet as I remember them. The pear and walnut salad was hefty, just the way I like my salads. And the lamb? Much better than I expected. The chops came with braised shoulder, which made the dish more than perfect for winter. For dessert, we stuck with our usual pick, a tart tarte (ha!), a homemade combination of huckleberry filling and vanilla ice cream.

The service was nice. There’s just no other way to describe the attitude of food servers outside New York City. I can call them “slow”, but I know that’s unfair since New York is the only city I’ve been that’s in a perpetual hurry. Regardless of the place, when I ask for medium-rare, I expect medium-rare. Celilo fulfilled everything we asked for except the dirty in the Dr.’s martini, but at $104 for two including tip, I turn most of the Cia off. I play nice in return. The martini stayed clean.

Celilo Restaurant and Bar is at 16 Oak Street in Hood River, Oregon. We walked in without reservations, but during busy season, call 541/386.5710.

Related post/s:
Eating in Portland, Oregon: Yakuza

What to do in Mt. Hood, Oregon

Jetblue had a nice sale to the west coast, so we took advantage of the promotion and paid $250 each for round-trip tickets to Oregon. Portland was on my list of places to visit this year and the Dr. really wanted to go snowboarding, so we spent a long weekend with friends even though the state’s been in the news lately, lost hikers and all. Late Thursday night, we arrived in Portland and stayed at Sam and Jenny’s house near the Japanese Garden. Sam was still at work but Jenny had a pot of chigae waiting with Fat Tire beers, so we stayed up a bit and talked. It’s hard to say no to Korean food especially when it’s pouring outside.

We slept very well and woke up the next day to catch up with Sam and meet their new baby, Ella, who babbled and smiled the entire morning. After a bit of catching up, we loaded our boards and drove their Hybrid SUV up to Mt. Hood. We stopped by a small town to get gas where we also picked up some greasy taquitos for lunch. It was raining when we were driving up, but it turned into fluffy, white snow when we reached the forest. It was absolutely Christmas-like. The pine trees were all covered in white and the snow didn’t show any signs of stopping.

It was almost two when we bought our half-day tickets ($49 each!) but we were able to board until it started to get dark. Visibility was low when we were on the lifts, but on top of the mountain, there was no wind. Past the fog, our runs were clear. I was still rusty but it only took one run for my adrenaline to start pumping. I forgot how much fun snowboarding could be. I’ve never experienced snow like that before in the east coast. Even though I fell on my ass a couple of times, the powder made falling down fun. I was more comfortable turning because I knew ice wasn’t going to scrape me and I wasn’t freezing my teeth off with every try. We were sore after the first day but it made for a good night of cocktails, Oregon Pinot Noir and lamb chops at Celilo.

On Saturday, we woke up from a deep slumber with the sun out. The mountain was already crowded by the time we started at 11am. The faster kids were speeding by us in their short-sleeved T-shirts. Meanwhile, I was sweating like a pig and trying to get out of a deep ditch of fresh snow. The easy run that the Dr. wanted us to try felt like a marathon. We lasted about four hours before we finally called it a day and drove back to Portland to meet up with Sam and Jenny, plus Dave and Carmie, who drove in from Seattle to join us.

This is hard to admit, but the west coast is starting to become more appealing.

Where we stayed in Hood River, an hour drive up Mt. Hood: Oak Street Hotel
Where we stayed in Portland, Oregon: Ace Hotel

Chicken and Bacon with Chickpeas and Spinach

I was doing my grocery shopping in Chinatown when I came across a pack of extra small chicken drumsticks. About a dozen pieces were tightly packed for about $1.50. At home, I opened them up and realized they weren’t chicken thighs but the other half of chicken wings–the arms, I call them. I had two packs, 24 pieces in all, and I immediately thought I’d just deep-fry and snack on them. But the temperature outside dropped and the weather called for a thick stew. This recipe requires a lot of ingredients, but fortunately, I already had them in my pantry. If you don’t have chicken and spinach, chickpeas alone make a satisfying meal, as long as it’s cooked in bacon. Just skip the step with the chicken and spinach and top with a fried egg.

Ingredients:
12 pieces chicken wings, halved, rinsed and pat dry with a paper towel
4 strips of bacon
half a bag of chickpeas, soaked overnight
1 bag of baby spinach, rinsed
2 cups chicken broth
juice from half a lemon
zest from half a lemon
1 garlic clove, minced
1 tsp red pepper flakes
1 small onion, thinly sliced
1 tbsp cumin, grounded
1 tsp paprika
1 tsp cinnamon powder
1 tbsp all-purpose flour
1 tbsp honey
a knob of butter
a handful of cilantro, roughly chopped
salt and pepper

1. Sprinkle chicken wings with salt and pepper. In a large Dutch oven, render fat from bacon until golden brown. Add butter. Brown chicken wings on both sides. Remove chicken from pot and set aside.
2. In the same pot, sautÃ© garlic and onions. Add the chick peas and the chicken broth. Bring to a boil and then lower the heat. Cover and simmer for 25 minutes to cook chickpeas.
3. When broth is slightly reduced and chickpeas are tender, add the rest of the ingredients. Add back the chicken wings. Cook for an extra 5 minutes or until spinach is wilted. Mix well and season to taste.

Chicken and Sausage Gumbo

At the New York Times Travel Show, I watched Chef Prudhomme make gumbo. I’ve never been to New Orleans, but I’ve always been curious about homemade Louisiana cooking. We recently got a fresh dump of snow in New York City and gumbo was just the right dish to eat for dinner. The secret here is the roux, a mixture of wheat flour and fat. Roux is the basis of French sauces and most Louisiana cooking; burn it and you have to start over. I added bacon to this recipe to use the last installment of bacon I received as a birthday present. I made enough to give back to the lovely people who thought about giving it to me in the first place.

Ingredients:
6 pieces chicken drumsticks
3 pieces of andouille sausage, cut into 1/4-inch-thick slices
5 slices of bacon, chopped in small pieces
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 medium onion, chopped
1 red bell pepper, chopped
4 celery ribs, chopped
a handful of okra, cut into smaller pieces
1 small can of diced tomatoes
5 cloves of garlic
chicken broth
3 tbsps Creole seasoning
2 sprigs of fresh thyme
4 bay leaves
hot sauce
vegetable oil
salt, pepper

1. Make roux. In a large skillet, heat vegetable oil in medium heat until somewhat smoking. Pour flour and mix with a whisk. Keep mixing for about 15 minutes or until flour is red-orange. This roux is your base. If black spots start to appear in the flour, it means you’ve burnt it. You have to start over. Remove from heat and add all the vegetables and the spices. Keep mixing with the whisk to help cool down the roux. Set aside.
2. In a large Dutch oven, render the fat from the bacon. Remove the bacon to a plate. Using the fat, brown the chicken drumsticks. Remove chicken to a plate.
3. Using the same fat and adding a little more oil as necessary, brown the sausages. Add the broth and the tomatoes and add back the chicken, the bacon and the roux.
4. Simmer and cook the chicken while ocassionally mixing to make sure it doesn’t dry up. Add more stock as necessary and adjust to taste using salt, pepper and hot sauce. Add the okra and cook until tender the last 10 minutes.

Cerro Negro in Leon, Nicaragua

We left Morgan’s Rock feeling a little spoiled. The manager gave us a ride to San Juan which helped us save $60. From San Juan, we got on a cab to the Rivas bus station. Along the way, we were stopped by some cops doing routine inspection. All six of us showed our IDs and passports. (The car fit four comfortably, but of course, the driver made six people fit.) When I asked the lady next to me why the inspection was necessary, she mentioned that drugs from Costa Rica are smuggled through San Juan. Her nail polish was peeling and her denim skirt was two sizes too small for her. I wished the cops would check her ID more carefully. In Rivas, we had an hour to kill before the bus to Managua was scheduled to depart. Kids were constantly asking us to buy food and drinks from them. We didn’t need to buy food because the staff at Morgan’s Rock packed us a couple of sandwiches for lunch and even gave me ceviche in a Ziploc. I ended up paying one of the boys 5 cordovas to walk me inside the food market and direct me to the public bathroom, though. He also asked one of the vendors for a plastic fork so that we could eat our ceviche. The ride was, as usual, bumpy and loud, but we made it back to Managua safely.

At Oscar Fonseca’s house, we unpacked before we walked around the neighborhood to look for dinner. If you’re planning a trip to Nicaragua, I recommend to skip this sooty city. There wasn’t really anything exciting about it. To our delight, we saw a Pollo Campero sign near one of the rotundas, a chicken fast food place we learned about while in El Salvador. We cabbed it to the main park but there was nothing there except an old church and a fountain. Before heading back home, we stopped by a fruit stand to buy a whole watermelon. That night, feeling a little disappointed with our experience with Nicaragua’s volcanoes so far, we decided to postpone our flight to the Caribbean coast and stay one more day in Managua to make a day trip to LeÃ³n, home of Cerro Negro, or the Black Hill.

The next morning, we woke up very early to catch the 5:30am shuttle van to LeÃ³n, Nicaragua’s “intellectual” city. It only took an hour to get there because half of the country was still asleep, but it took almost two hours before we could find a restaurant open for business. I was so grouchy when we finally found breakfast at Comedor Lucia that I ordered a chicken leg with my scrambled eggs. After eating, we met up with Hector at the Va Pues Tour office inside the Cocinarte restaurant-cum-artist hangout. It was a last-minute arrangement and we couldn’t risk just asking one of the locals for a much cheaper ride to Cerro Negro, so we ended up shelling out $90 for the two of us to hike the crater.

We got on the pickup truck and our driver negotiated the dry mud along the way while Hector told us about his life. He was young and energetic and seemed really thrilled that Chinese-looking people like us could speak Spanish. It was a long drive and we only saw one sign directing us towards the volcano. We tried to convince ourselves that we made the right decision in paying so much money to get us there.

As soon as we started our hike up Cerro Negro, I knew it was going to be a completely different experience from Mombacho or Apoyo. The small stones crunched as we stepped on them. It was like hiking on powdered snow: step up, crunch, slide down, repeat. From afar, we could see how much damage the lava from its last eruption affected the valley. There was no vegetation, only hardened asphalt. Steam was coming out from some of the rocks. I scooped up some to take home as souveneir and was amazed at how hot they were. One section of the hill was completely covered in yellow sulphur.

It was really windy when we reached the top. But the crater was right below us and it was an amazing sight. (Okay, so the $90 was worth it.) Now, this is a crater, I thought. Weirdly enough, crickets and grasshoppers were hopping all over the place. The heat attracted them, but they would die instantly when they would land on the steaming rocks for too long. After several photographs from the top, we readied ourselves for what was to come next: sliding and surfing down the other side of Cerro Negro. If we paid a little more money, we could have rented mini-boards to suit up and ride down like snowboarders. But we just decided to slide down without any props. It was longer than I expected but it was so much fun. The stones gave easily and I couldn’t help but squeal every time I slid without interruption. I imagined our entire surrounding was how the moon would look like. Everything was black and pure. I’ve never seen anything like Cerro Negro before and I’ve definitely never slid down a volcano in my life.

Back in LeÃ³n, we walked to the market to look for lunch. It was so hot, we were the only ones out on the streets. Inside the market, we saw several ladies serving up homecooked meals to the locals. It was my self-imposed rule in Nicaragua: find the fat lady who looks like she can cook as well as she can eat. We picked the largest woman in the group and sat down on one of the plastic chairs with our order. We were sweating when we came down the volcano and we were still sweating while we ate. We still have to go back to Managua at the end of the day but we definitely knew it was time for some beach time.

Where we stayed in Managua, Nicaragua: Oscar Fonseca’s House
Our tour guide to Cerro Negro: Va Pues Tours