Pinot; An American Brasserie

Welcome Pinot; the most accommodating and gracious $$$ restaurant I've been to in ages. Ruth Reichl (acclaimed food critic) wrote about the concept of spending money on a meal and paying not only for superb food, but for the experience and service. Nothing is worst then putting down a hefty dollar on a dinner and having the service be mediocre or worst.

Pinot may be new, but the chef and restaurant staff know how to make every costumer feel at home in their French kitchen. We were placed at the "chef's table," where we were able to see and feel all the hustle and bustle of the kitchen and see every exquisite meal being prepared.

Miss. Sarah's birthday dinner at Pinot was complete with a complimentary bottle of champagne (and when asked for strawberries, they implemented with raspberry sorbetto, in which they dolloped into each glass).

While I was obnoxiously taking pictures of cheese their platters, my nose practically touching the place, they simply offered me the plate; "That's an extra, would you like this one for your table? Otherwise I'll just have to give it to the staff."



Would I like a cheese platter?! Do you know who I am?

The dinner was spectacular. I had a "young hen." I wonder how young it was. I hope at least a teenager.

whole roast young hen roasted potatoes, carrot, onion and tomato

baby tins filled with fresh bread

Add captionskate wing potato gnocchi, brussels sprouts, preserved lemon, brown butter

alaskan salmon cauliflower and red potato gratin, horseradish

tagliatelle carbonara pork belly, shaved parmesan, duck egg

Birthday girl and Elizabeth

chocolate mouse

Oui, Oui

Fruit Tartlet, $3.75
 I’m on a me kick. This entails a Facebook hiatus, yoga, lots of daydreaming about Paris and the French countryside, a New York Times Bestseller, writing and as much park and Ipod time as possible. I had a dream I was in Paris the other night . . . then I listened to French music and coincidentally enough I posted on my Facebook—pre hiatus—that I wanted to go in September. You won’t guess what happened next, suddenly I found myself in front of Petit Provence. So I took it all as one big sign that I must have a Fruit Tartlet and guess what? I was right; I was supposed to have a tartlet.

La Petite Provence gives the Oregonian the perfect boulangerie fix and for a reasonable fair. Their breakfasts are large and rich and their homemade pastries are out of this world, or at least out of the states. Allow me to digress; I have trouble making decisions. I spent over 30 minutes in Powell’s today deciding which color August to August day planner to buy. I am that crazy woman walking back and forth, away for a moment and then back again, pacing the shelves, trying to make a simple decision. I almost always walk away feeling regretful.

So you can imagine my dismay tonight when the dessert choices at La Petit Provence were endless. Finally, with a little guidance I choose the Fruit Tartlet. I did not regret. I ate each bite slowly, savoring the plump blueberries, sweet strawberries and custard filling; adoring the gelatin over glaze and buttery crust. I even licked my fingers clean of the last few crumbs on my plate.

If for anything else, maybe you’re gluten free or something (I’m getting annoyed of you people), go to Le Petite Provence so that you can sit in their beautiful boulangerie, which they’ve clearly spent tons renovating. Sit next to the open windows and forget you are on the most gentrified street in Portland. Forget you have work tomorrow, that you spilled wax all over your tile floors and that you have 3lbs to lose. Sit, breathe and eat pastries. 

A Little Bite of Paris: Saint Honoré Boulangerie

Brie Bartlett $7.40 and a Mini Pain au Chocolate $1.75

Sometimes life gives you lemons and as the old saying goes, you are supposed to make lemonade. Well today my friends, I did something even better—I decided, as life was throwing me lemons, I would pick them up and head to Paris.

Saint Honoré Boulangerie has become my dear lemon avoiding friend. Saint Honore’s wraps me up and suddenly I’m engulfed in sweet smells of buttery croissants, rich coffee and sandwiches with names I cannot pronounce, but that I know sound beautiful.



Simply going into Saint Honorés is enough to take every ounce of sadness in the world away; I mean come on you’re in Paris in Portland, sadness is not allowed. The high vaulted ceilings, the tower like brick bread oven, the pastry cases filled with Canelet, Pain au Chocolate, Choquettes and Coffee Éclairs. Mouth watering goodness from the people that know sweets best.



And then you walk further, to the sandwich case and realize you mustn’t just eat sugar for lunch, mainly because they have a baguette that is drizzled with balsamic vinegar and olive oil and then layered with prosciutto, large slices of brie and then topped with caramelized pear, onion and arugula. Bon appetite.



Now I know, when life throws me a lemon, I’m heading straight to Paris, sitting outside of Saint Honoré's, surrounded by smiling people soaking up the spring sun, enchanted in conversations and taking delicate bites of Parisian food.