Bar-B Right on ‘Cue
As I mentioned last week, I left Portland on the Monday night red eye in order to get back to Chicago for work on Tuesday. Traveling in the middle of the night meant very little sleep. It also meant more time for going out to dinner with my family. Mango Mama was all set to take us out for tapas at the brand new hot spot Toro Bravo, but that was not meant to be. A writeup in a city magazine and a review in The Oregonian meant everyone and their mom was there to give it a try. When we arrived the hostess told us the wait would be an hour. We decided to go looking for something else to eat, and we only ended up going to the end of the block. There we found Russell Street Bar-B-Que, a down-home, but hip, all-out meat haven.
As only a barbecue joint in the Pacific Northwest could do, Russell Street pulls its barbecue styles from all across the South, including Virginia, Texas and North Carolina. There are five different sauces, including three degrees of a Virginia tomato-based option, a Kentucky-style sweet-hot mustard sauce and a spicy North Carolina vinegar. All meat is vegetarian-fed, and all fish is wild. Among the menu options are pork and beef ribs, pulled pork and barbecued wild salmon. And, in a very Portland turn, Russell Street also serves smoked and grilled tofu for the vegetarians and vegans. Needless to say, we stuck to meat.
Daddy Salmon and I tried the Texas-style smoked beef brisket (pictured above) topped with the medium Virginia sauce and with all of the other sauces to sample. The meat was soft, falling apart at the touch of a fork. It was tasty, although it could have been a little bit fattier and more moist. The entrees came with cornbread (so-so) and two sides. I tried mixed sauteed greens and barbecue beans with bits of meat, both of which were excellent. Mango Mama tried a tasty smoked meatloaf made with a mixture of pork and beef. Trader Joanna opted toward the healthier choice of a barbecued chicken breast, but she couldn’t resist the crispy handmade fries. The most impressive dish was Flava Flav’s beef ribs (pictured here). The menu said they would make you feel like Fred Flinstone, and these massive meat-laden bones fit the bill perfectly. The meat was rich and delicious, and Flava Flav did her best to eat as much as she could. She took the rest home along with the bare bones so our dogs Mattie and Athena could enjoy the meal too.
I was more than sated when they all drove me to the airport afterward and waved goodbye. I’ll have to bring Empanada Boy back to Russell Street the next time we’re in Portland.
Russell Street Bar-B-Que
325 NE Russell St.
Portland, OR 97212
503.528.8224
It’s taken me a while to write this post because I’ve been exceptionally busy in the last few days. In part this was because of a last minute trip to Portland, which got me home at 5 am on Tuesday. Despite the unfortunate schedule for the return flight, I had a fabulous time in Portland and ate very well. I will tell you all about it, but first I have an important announcement:
Now, on to my first great culinary experience during my short jaunt to Portland. On Sunday morning Mango Mama, Daddy Salmon, Flava Flav, Trader Joanna and I went to the 
We couldn’t resist some of those peppers. Mango Mama and I also bought a heavenly, rich and tangy sheep’s milk cheese, some pretty little tomatoes, broccoli and cauliflower, chanterelle mushrooms and some deliciously sweet apples. Many of these items, along with Mango Mama’s excellent homemade pickles, helped form a gourmet lunch when we returned from shopping. It was a spread typical of a meal at our house: crackers, cheese, apples, pickles and a delicious, buttery raspberry shortcake made my one of the artisan bakery booths. Everyone serves themselves from an assortment of bowls and trays. 
Each day on our way to and from the train stop near our apartment, Empanada Boy and I have passed the same places. There’s a Chinese joint, a liquor store, a bar, an antique shop and a chiropractor’s office. Then comes a bold yellow sign decorated with old-fashioned circus-style writing and a picture of a giant hot dog. It’s 
Budacki’s and other places like it are known for their hot dogs. The Chicago-style dog is more than a genre— it’s a religion. Like everywhere else in the city, these are all-beef numbers, locally-made by the Vienna Beef company. The ones at Budacki’s come all dressed up with mustard, pickle spears, tomatoes, relish and onions. The freshness of these accompaniments accentuates the pure, beefy flavor of these tasty dogs. Empanada Boy tried the double hot dog meal during our last visit. (Actually, I should say mylast visit since EB’s been back since.) Thin, crispy french fries come with the all of the meals. Budacki’s somewhat ridiculously advertises these as “pomme frites” on a sign outside.
But EB’s favorite is the Italian beef: thinly sliced layers of beef cooked in a broth with oregano and other spices. It’s served in a crusty roll, which is often soaked in the broth used to reheat the meat. The meat is usually topped with a spicy hot pepper relish called giardinera. Italian beef is a signature Chicago dish and is apparently difficult to find outside the Chicagoland area. According to 
Madison, Wisconsin was the place to be this weekend, or so Empanada Boy and I determined. We decided to drive up after hearing that Drumstix and Popcorn Princess were having a shower for the upcoming arrival of their first child, Herbert. We also took the opportunity to catch up with EB’s friends Po’boy and Milkmaid.
Like Voodoo Doughnuts, the Greenbush Bakery is open late— until 3 a.m. on Saturday nights. Unlike Voodoo, there was no crowd of drunk hipsters waiting on line outside. In fact, we were the only ones there. One thing that automatically makes the Greenbush unique is the fact that it’s kosher. This fact is advertised all over the restaurant. Another major selling point is the fact that all doughnuts are fried in trans fat-free oil. 
Po’boy and EB ordered Oreo doughnuts, fittingly made with cream fillings. I found these overly decadent and a little disgusting. EB loved them and pronounced them better than those he’d raved so much about at Voodoo. We also tried a maple-glazed round and an un-doughnut-like apple pie thing.