This is a short and (not so) sweet review.  I was intrigued by the packaging and photo, but unimpressed with the product.  The Private Selections brand (a house brand for Kroger affiliated stores) Marble Hearth Pizza, with pepperoni and roasted garlic didn’t have much going for it.  While the crust was OK, and the presence of the roasted garlic “felt”, after that, the pizza fell down.  Bland sauce, non-distinguishable pepperoni, high price point.

For the same money, I could have purchased 4-5 Totino’s or Jeno’s economy pies, and been just as happy. #Fail.  Won’t purchase again.

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In 1805, explorers Meriwether Lewis and Daniel Clark were deep in the midst of the first transcontinental exploration to the West Coast of the United States; in 1905, to celebrate the centennial of that expedition, Portland hosted a “world’s fair”, the Lewis and Clark Exposition.  At that time in history, “World’s Fairs” were held annually in cities around the world, as showcases of the local resources and potential opportunities for both companies and individuals.

The building which housed the entrance area to that exposition now houses Meriweather’s – an apt location for a restaurant that concentrates on featuring food prepared using local resources – in fact, Meriwether’s has their own nearby farm and serves in excess of 8 tons of locally grown produce annually.

Open for lunch  Mon-Fri, dinner seven days, and weekend brunch, the chef has come up with an interesting menu with new twists on old favorites, and created a number of his own daring entrees; the restaurant offers full meals, small plates, and a great variety of ‘samplers’  one can order in multiples from their happy hour menu.

We had received a gift card from some dear friends, and had it in our mind to spend a leisurely weekend afternoon happy hour at the restaurant.

Mrs. Burgerdogboy had been once before for a business engagement, but it was my first visit.  She started happy hour with an adult beverage, Meriweather’s French Pair, featuring Grey Goose pepper vodka, sweet liqueur, and prosecco.

On our small plate “board”, we went with five choices for $16: anchovy and avocado toast, chickpea fries, artisan salami, cheese & honeycomb, and raw oysters;  I added the bacon and cheeseburger as an afterthought, but it was served to us first.

The high quality ground beef was served medium rare at my specification, thick-sliced bacon, a mild cheese, and marsala mayo adorning possibly one of the finest hamburger buns the planet has ever witnessed.  The beef was lightly-seasoned and the seasoning did not overpower the ‘beefy’ taste of the thick patty.

While the sampler plate servings were small, all were pleasing, with Mrs. BDB especially enjoying the anchovy and avocado toast, small whole anchovies adorning a spread of very creamy avocado adorning slivers of toasted bread. I enjoyed the small square of honeycomb adorning a piece of cheese, and knew well enough that if I reached for one of the oysters, I might lose a finger to Mrs. BDB’s protective eye.

We arrived at 3pm and the bar (the only venue the happy hour menu is served) attendance was fairly light; by 5p, that had changed considerably.

Service was perfunctory, but the food is the real attraction.  I’m sure Meriwether’s will be added to our new favorites list.

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Mrs. Burgerdogboy came back from an outing with her pals at ScarletGirl.com, with a most unusual rave – no, not the latest in intimate playthings for couples, but rather a tip on a pizza her husband must try!

So Sunday nite she urged us out the door as the punctuation for a week we have both been suffering from the Portland winter crud sickness – either as a very loving jesture or in fact as an excuse to pick up some ice cream – the cure all for any known feminine malady.

We motored over to Uncle John’s Market in Burlingame, long the destination of Portland pizza whisperers, but heretofore unvisited by Portland’s leading “pizza expert.” (Moi).

So here’s the drill.  There is a strictly take-out pizzeria inside this neighborhood market, offering slices or one-sized (x-large) pies to go, with your choice of toppings.

The mistress of Scarletgirl had recommended the pie as a thinner crust rendition of typical NY pizza, a two-handed slice, and she was spot on in both her description, and her understanding of what Burgerdogboy likes.

We grabbed a single slice of pepperoni for $2.75, and both enjoyed noshing on it on our way to ice cream land.

It’s thinner than typical NY pie, bordering on a cracker-thin, crispy slice, with nice cheese bubbles and a little char on the crust.

I grabbed a take-out menu, as it’s near to impossible to find details (or a phone number) for this neighborhood gem online.

For a quick slice in SW Portland, hit up Uncle John’s, or call ahead and order a large pie to go, or to enjoy al fresco (in your car) as we did!

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Was home sick, decided to treat myself for lunch.  “Feed a cold, feed a fever, feed a hangnail,” my ma used to say.

So I mulled over my delivery options and opted for Tigard Pizza Kitchen.  I have about five delivery options at the noon hour for my sector, so why Tigard?   One of the very few places I have found in Portland that offers sliced green olives as a topping, and that’s one of my toppings of choice.

I used d-dish.com for delivery, which adds a wallop to the price of a pie.  This medium, with delivery and tip, topped $30.   That’s a chunk of change for pizza.

But to the meat of the matter.  This pie suits my taste.  It’s a little more doughy than I prefer, but acceptable.  Real cheese, mild sauce, and hand pulled chunks of Italian sausage.   Those joints that use “crumbles” I cross off my list.

We’ve been into TPK once before, and in addition to pizza, they have a full line of Middle Eastern foods, including some great hummus.

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(Kat Stromquist) I knew of (but had never eaten at) Serio’s from my days working nearby in the Central Business District of New Orleans. They had a reputation for good sandwiches and a long lunch queue, which is generally – though not always – a good sign.

So imagine my trepidation when I encountered, at 1:00 on a Tuesday, a deserted restaurant. A few employees lounged about a table, apparently enjoying a lunch break. Otherwise, not a soul stirred in the Louisiana-sports-themed dining room.

But alas, blogging requires us to undertake many questionable ventures. So I stepped to the counter and ordered a cheeseburger po-boy (basically a cheeseburger on French bread.) The counter attendant/chef, displaying exactly none of the typical NOLA short-order surliness, helpfully inquired after my choice of cheese (from American, Swiss, and Provolone – I chose Swiss) and offered mustard when I mentioned my contempt for mayonnaise.

The Serio’s cheeseburger po-boy is two half-inch-thick beef patties cooked toward the “well” side of “medium-well,” with cheese melted on and a slice thrown on afterward (presumably for texture). It’s dressed classically with iceberg and a few fatigued-looking tomatoes. They use a “hard” French po-boy bun, as opposed to a soft one. I prefer soft, but hard is more traditional.

As you can probably tell, I wasn’t expecting much from this sandwich. But as I bit into it, juices seeped from the meat, the bun crackled satisfyingly, and the well-seasoned beef (strong flavors of onion and a certain je ne sais quoi spice blend) filled my mouth with its savory flavor. Amazing! This unremarkable-looking sandwich was, somehow, delicious.

I’m going to attribute this one to the patty’s quality seasoning – a real “mystery meat” if ever I tasted one. Add that to the heartfelt service that continued throughout my meal (the chef checked on my food, and another employee offered to wrap up the remains of my extremely generous portion for me), and I’d recommend Serio’s anytime.

Next time, I’ll go for the muffaletta (available in whole, half and quarter portions.)

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Mrs. Burgerdogboy love getting our pork on for weekend breakfasts, and this can take many forms:  bacon, ham chops, jowls, links, patties, smoked or fresh sausage.  This weekend, we picked up some linguica from Uli’s Sausage of Seattle, being sold in the Portland area at Sheridan Fruit Market.

Linguica (for those of you who didn’t click the link to wikipedia) is  “Portuguese sausage” a smoked pork link seasoned with garlic and paprika.  Outside of the Iberian peninsula, you’ll find it popular in Massachusetts, NJ, Washington and environs, and most of all, in Hawaii.  Especially Hawaii, where you’ll find it even on the McDonald’s breakfast menu.

Uli’s is a fresh sausage, that is, one has to cook it prior to consuming.  I have a habit of parboiling fresh sausage before frying or grilling, a holdover from days in the Upper Midwest and they want locals treat bratwurst sausages (parboiled in beer).

Uli’s is a very fine grind, which I personally prefer (if you’ve ever ordered andouille in France, you’ll know what I mean).  The flavors are strong, but I can’t identify them to you, as the label only lists (in addition to garlic, paprika and red wine), “spices” as an ingredient.

After some discussion on the home front, and multiple tastes, we’re gonna guess that Uli has some finely ground fennel in the links, as well.

It’s a great product.  I’ll try others of his as I run across them.

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Geez, FINALLY.  Truth in labeling about a  “Kobe” burger.  You know those restaurants where you are shelling out $10-$20 for a “kobe” burger?  It ain’t “Kobe.”   It’s American beef in the kobe style, whose actual name is Wagyu.  The full explanation is in Wikipedia, so I won’t delve into it at this point.   It’s akin to labeling sparkling wine from California as “champagne.”  (It’s not, technically).

Well, enough snobbishness for one article.  Point is, Trader Joe’s continues their not-so-subtle campaign to garner more and more of my weekly grocery budget.  In the frozen foods department, I picked up their American “Kobe Style” frozen burger patties, two half-pounders to a package, and the copy proclaims “may be one of the best burgers you have ever had,”  or something along those lines.

And damn.  May just well be.  At minimum, it is the best frozen burger patty I have ever consumed.  Most of them I take umbrage to.  Too fine a grind, a lingering frozen meat aftertaste.

Not so with TJs.   This is a fine burger.  Pan fried low and slow at my house this morning, very little shrinkage or fat left in the pan, a nice coarse grind, a hearty beef flavor.

You guys continue to amaze me with your quality, taste and price points.  I’ll be back later today to clean out your freezer of these puppies!

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Billy Heartbeats, an outlet of the Restaurants Unlimited empire, is tucked away adjacent to the food court in the Lloyd Shopping mall in Portland, OR.  It’s a schnock-0ff of Johnny Rockets, serving a limited, table service menu of hamburgers, hot dogs, fries, and shakes, with the addition of a few standard diner entrees.

I’ve passed by it quite a few times, never in the mall long enough to check it out.  Last nite we had time before a movie, so Mrs. BDB and I sampled the wares of the kitchen and enjoyed the (decade appropriate) tunes being spit out by a lovingly restored 1952 Seeburg B-100 jukebox.

They offer a daily special burger and shake.   I went with the former, bacon and blue cheese, and our over the top server answered my questions with prescient knowledge.  “And the blue cheese are the big crumbles, not that sickly salad dressing stuff.”

Sold.

Service was prompt and the burger at definite curb appeal.  Food is served in a basket, and most orders are accompanied by fries.  I liked the burger, it’s hand formed and pre-seasoned and suits my palate.

The fries weren’t spectacular but there was nothing wrong with them, either.  Mrs. BDB went with a veggie sandwich and a traditional soda, strawberry, which I had a sample of, and enjoyed that very much.

While I have rarely contemplated a shopping mall as a dinner destination, perhaps I should more often.   Billy Heartbeats makes a burger worth stopping by for.

Billy Heartbeats

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I had my cap set on some natural casing hot dogs the other day; after all, I had just received a new shipment of Skyline Chili in the post, and I needed something to slather it on!

Natural casing hot dogs are my favorite, but not America’s – less than 5% of the hot dogs sold in the US coming in casings (sheep intestines, usually).   People that prefer NC dogs like the “snap” one gets when biting in to the dog; an additional plus is the casing locks in flavor and juices.  I enjoy both attributes of this type of wiener.

Being as the masses like the skinless dogs, that’s what you’ll find in most groceries.  I had to hit four stores before scoring my dogs the other day.  Store # 3 usually has Boar’s Head in the deli case, but they were out, so it was on to Sheridan Fruit Market; Sheridan whips up about 30 different kind of sausages on site their meat counter, I figured franks would be among them.

I figured wrong.  But Sheridan also has a separate deli counter, featuring New Jersey’s Thumann line.   They had a pack of weenies just for me.   The Thumann’s natural casing beef wieners are a bit over-sized – six to a package, and retail for just north of $7, a bit spendy for a grocery dog.    But you get what you pay for.

And Thumann’s packs a punch of flavor.  Most of America’s hot dogs are rather bland affairs, I’ve heard people describe them as “basically rolled up bologna,” but Thumann’s follows a more traditional “old world” recipe, and the delicate flavor of the combination of herbs and spices is quite evident, and enjoyable.  The “snap” is great.

Most hot dogs we purchase are pre-cooked, and thus require only reheating at home.  Natural casing dogs require a “gentle” reheating, so as to not split the casing open during the cooking process.   You’ll hear many different methods of doing this, whether it’s boiling water, shutting it off, and letting the dogs take a hot water bath for five minutes;  slow grill;  simmer; steam.    For today, I did low and slow in a skillet.

I like the Skyline “chili”, and I have that word in quotes, because in a fair amount of the country, you’ll see a product like this referred to as “hot dog sauce.”  The Midwest version is usually minced ground beef in a tomato-based sauce, with herbs and spices.  Ohioans like some cinnamon in the mix.   In the Deep South, you’ll find onion-based sauces.

I prefer the Midwestern style, as it was what I was first exposed to, at my all time favorite go-to dog place, Deluxe Coney Island in Duluth.  The Duluth version doesn’t include cinnamon, but today, in Portland, Oregon, at 330 AM in my kitchen, the Skyline Chili was just what the doctor (some doctor, somewhere, certainly not mine!) ordered!

Skyline Chili

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Hmmm, where to begin this one? Where to end. Shall I write a couple hundred words about Joe’s? Or simply (spoiler alert) “Meh.”

I was running around downtown today when I spotted the latest location of Joe’s, which started as a “kiosk” type operation at the fancy pants Bridgeport Mall, and although people urged me to try it, I never got to it.  Every time I go to Bridgeport, and pass the burger stand, I’m either on my way into or out of the cinema.   He has another location at his former Italian dining estab on BHH, but I don’t get over that way much either.  Bored yet?  I’m am.

I sauntered (sashayed?) in to the downtown location and was promptly greeted by the counter person;  the place was “moderately’ busy for a weekday lunch period, but I was the only one ordering.   Joe’s menu is spartan – burgers, dogs, rings, fries, shakes.   If there are topping options, neither I, nor anyway else who has read the menu, is aware of them, and the counter people aren’t coughing up any suggestions either.

I went with the regular burger, “Oregon all natural beef”, iceberg lettuce, tomato and sauce.   I could see by the pile of packages in the corner they use locally baked Franz buns, as well.

I was not asked if I wanted any other condiments, if any where available, or how I wanted it prepared.  I was told that it would be ready in ‘six or seven minutes.’  A burger with a side of fries clocked in at $6.75, I could have added a soda for another 50 cents I was informed.

I wiled away my time sitting at the counter facing the street, and the sandwich was done in less than the estimated time.

Like In N Out (I am not comparing, I am saying ‘in the style of’) Joe’s hopes that a bunch of produce a glob of sauce (both top and bottom bun) will discuss the paper thin patty, cooked into the realm of oblivion.

The prices were hot, crispy shoestring style, lightly salted.

The burger sauce was a variation of the standard secret sauce (thousand island-ish).

I’m not a fan of In N Out.  Fatburger also employs a similar style patty, well done, crispy on the edges, and for some reason, I like theirs.

I wish Joe all the success in the world, I know how hard the hospitality business is, and I’m sure he will prosper for awhile.

But like one of Portland’s other “faves” at the moment, “Little Big Burger,” all I can say is (yawn).   As always, this is MY opinion.  You may find Joe’s to be the perfect burger for you, and I urge you to try it!

Sorry Joe, for me,  no go for the dough.

If that thick pink slab was meat instead of 'mato....I'd be happy!

Why yes, that IS a bag of Moonstruck Chocolates for Mrs. BDB!

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