North by Northwest

There is something about the Northwest––words that might seem empty anywhere else, like frontier, manifest destiny, new beginnings and ruggedness actually make sense here. Its very Westerness is so present, it’s almost shocking to my New York City self. It’s like when you go to Paris for the first time and you realize the songs and stories are right––it is romantic and sophisticated and lovely. Before you experience it firsthand, you would never believe the myth could be so accurate. That is how I feel about the Pacific Northwest. And although I don’t feel like a part of it, I find it intoxicating none-the-less.

For the past four years, Steve and I have come out to stay with his dad in an area an hour outside of Portland known as the Columbia River Gorge, a wonderful piece of America which lies between Mount Adams and Mount Hood, two enormous snow covered mountains. The Columbia River is the center of it all, with its wind surfers and kite boarders, creating a boundary between Washington State and Oregoon. It is, in a word, spectacular. Add to this about 30 small wineries and a burgeoning foodie scene, and you have something close to paradise.

Produce from Hood River Farmer's Market...