Emily Angry! Borders wins best bookstore

The problem with polling for “best-of’s” is that it often rewards the uninspired. It champions the established instead of rewarding the undiscovered.

And it leaves little room for new voices.

Knowing this, I didn’t jump at the chance to troll through the Statesman-Journal’s new best of rankings.

Also, I had read on the Eatsalem blog that Salem had once voted Olive Garden as the best Italian restaurant, offering the first of many reasons to discount the rankings.

Or at least to trust my own tastebuds against the madding crowd’s.

But I finally got curious. What are these polls other than a means to get mad — to direct your pent-up anger at everything you can’t control in the world to a poll you can’t really affect. So I went to the site, started leafing through the pages, was pretty unsurprised, until I came across this:

Salem voted Borders best bookstore.

Grumble Grumble Grumble.

REEAAAAGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!

Emily Angry!

Salemites, you don’t know how good you have it. You have a handful of bookstores selling quality used paperbacks, and you have two independent bookstores where you can pick up new books.

More importantly, you have BOOKSELLERS at the Book Bin and Tea Party Bookshoppe that hand-pick books for you based not just on what the market says will sell — read: WHO THEY THINK YOU ARE — but on the kind of books that will transform your lives.

If you don’t know this yet, than you haven’t engaged a bookseller in a frank discussion of your literary needs. The best of them won’t give you something based on what you already like, but on what you have to read, right now, OR DIE.

Now, I can’t say I’ve never been in Borders. I too have been lured in by free smoothie samples and table upon table of Twilight and Twilight-like products. Sometimes, when I need a specific book and I need it fast, I might stop there on my way home and yes, buy a book at Borders.

But I know what it’s like to live in a city where there aren’t any other options than the big-box shop. You step into one — and you could be anywhere in the world.

Shouldn’t best of  mean more than just biggest and most comfortable brand?

That reminds me. I’m going to come up with my own best-of’s. I encourage you to do the same.  Stay tuned.

Meet Your Meatmakers

I must have been reading my friend Nick’s blog too much recently.  Last year, Nick raised and then butchered a pig — capturing the entire process in multimedia  for his journalism master’s project. He has since become something of a pork expert, a major Midwest voice in the movement to have a greater connection to the food that we eat.

No one expects anyone else to raise and slaughter their own pigs. But I do believe there is a great amount of grace in knowing how animals are processed, and I choose to make consumer decisions on the values of sustainability.

Until now, I haven’t bought too much meat in Salem. I grew up with a mother who knew exactly where to buy meat — generally at our indoor farmer’s market — and I have thus become very skeptical of overly red meat in the grocery store.

But I’ve been in Salem long enough by now to have found a few places I can buy the beef. Or pork. Or chicken.

So I’ve been on a meat kick this week that will culminate in a dish of hammered-thin, batter-dipped, pan-fried pork. We picked some up at the Salem’s Saturday Market from this guy at Sweet Briar Farms.

This meat kick has also included picking up a chicken to roast and some bacon at Gillespie’s, an old-timey butcher located in Norman’s Farmer’s Market on Silverton Road.

Call it some much-needed protein for a new zest for life. Or catching up, for months of too much tofu.

Any tips? Where do you buy your meat and why? And more importantly, where can I get some great fresh fish around here?

Capital Shots: Puppytown, U.S.A.

Some people go for the fresh eggs, some flip for Foulweather Coffee, some prefer pork… I’ll take two King Charles spaniels. Seriously, the parking lot, where the Salem Saturday Market occurs, turns into is Puppytown, U.S.A. on Saturday mornings.

Desperately Seeking Soap

Picture it, it’s 1993, I’m 14, and in the doctor’s office with my mother for a regular check-up. Knees hit, ears explored, eyes peered into, looks like I’m doing just fine.

“Do you want to talk to him about your problem?” my mom asks.

I go red.

“Um… no thanks.”

“Emily’s been smelling soap,” she blurts out.

“Whatever do you mean?” the doctor asks.

The problem, if you want to call it that, is that I had started a soap collection and had been hoarding soap lobsters, seashells, Crabtree and Evelyn guest soaps, and even a soap hippopatamus in a basket in our upstairs bathroom.

I was a soap fiend. I spent about an hour a day bathing in the tub, molding my hands to create the perfect-sized bubbles, which are about 1.67 inches in diameter.

“Oh, I think she’ll grow out of that,” the doctor said.

We went along our way, but my obsession got worse. I started carrying around a half-used bar of soap and smelling it at odd moment of the day (hey, how did YOU survive middle school?).

Until 1995, when I returned from visiting the grandparents in Florida to discover that my mother had distributed my soap to hands unknown.

I found the hippopatamus, now a mushy glob, in her shower.

So wasn’t I surprised, delighted, and a little manic when I saw a hardcore natural soap shop on Liberty Street NE in the Reed Opera House. It’s called Slab, and it’s pretty much the best store in town.

And not because I like soap. Slab Handcrafted Soap Company is the best store in town because the customer has direct contact with the soapmaker and the store has a raw, designy aesthetic that looks like it belongs in Portland.

Sorry, Salem shopowners, for the most part, you need to step up. I will gladly purchase a bar of soap for $5 a pop if the experience makes me feel like I’m living in a city.

I picked up two bars of Douglas Fir soap (great gifts from Salem, no?), Plumeria, Avacado Butter, and a bar of Pomegranate.

If you go, ask the soapmaker, Tim, about the worst soap burn he’s ever had while laying out slabs in the Reed Opera House.

Shangri-La in our new used couch

On our way back from Word of Mouth Bistro, and after lounging under the Cherry trees near the Capitol, we stopped at a garage sale and bought an old school brown leather couch for $45.

We’ve been to a few estates sales in NE Salem and have been pretty grossed out by how some people live. But this house had the motherload — even though the sale was just about over.

This one little yard reconfirmed our hopes that Salem might have garage sales worth scouring.

In the folds of our new used couch we found:

Tonka truck man
Storm Trooper helmet (it fits him!)
Miniature skateboard (too big)
Crucifix pendant with fake emeralds
$1.27 in change
Polished agate
Laser pointer
Harmonica
Battle Royale Gameboy game
2 paper clips
Small plastic coconut
“Put your paws on a good book” bear bookmark
Eternal Sleep Spell playing card
Christmas light refill bulb
Butterfly hair clip
Blue scrunchie
Raffle ticket
Mini bean bag
One child’s handwritten list of “Nursry Rymes” including Little Bo Peep
Toothpick

“Aren’t you a little short for a Stormtrooper?”

Satisfyingly Found: Salem Farmer’s Market

I have known many markets: Lancaster County’s Central Market, the oldest indoor market in the United States. Munich’s Viktualienmarkt, a foodie’s heaven, Washington, D.C.’s Dupont Circle Market, a hub of food politics in the nation’s capital, Iowa City’s Farmer’s Market, a packed small town square and big f-you to Iowa’s big food producers.

And now Salem’s Saturday Farmer’s Market, which opened today for the season.

It’s still early in the season, and I’ve heard that the space near the capitol building where the market sets up shop fills up as the season progresses, but it is still possible to buy the compenents of an entire meal there this early in the year.

I went there knowing no one. I left with a bag of coffee, a dozen organic eggs, and the names of at least five people.

And I ran out of money.

(My own fault).

Here’s a selection of some of the market’s 50 stands.

Flower and Produce Stand

Farris-Seaman’s Bird house, Dog and Cat Cookies, and Knitted Hats and Bags (obviously a multi-talented family), also known as CUTETASTIC HATS!

Now all I need is a kid to force these cutetastic hats on…

Rainforest Mushrooms

Shitakes and Maitakes in brown bags, Oh my! And one of the hunters was there with a pan full of olive oil, frying some up. Told them my husband once found a 25-pound maitake in the Iowa woods. They weren’t pleased. (Actually, he now tells me it was 40 pounds. They were apparently not impressed by the size since they grow them indoors and don’t hunt them).

Cape Foulweather Coffee Co.

For now, let’s call them the most honestly named Pacific Northwest coffee producers I’ve encountered. I bought a pound of their ground Brazil. More on that later.

I spoke to Elaine, one of Foulweather’s owners, who is a former marine biologist. A FORMER MARINE BIOLOGIST! Seriously, isn’t that what everyone wants to be when they grow up?

No way man, that’s like so 15 years ago.

These days, they dream of roasting coffee.

Kracktastic crackers at Life Source

I have received some strange press releases since starting this blog. My favorite came from a major Italian producer of truffle oil who suggested these were times that allowed a good splurge.

Still waiting on the release from my latest obsession, Doctor Kracker’s über cracker, the Seedlaender variety. It’s about half seeds, half cracker, and it rocks my face off.

Literally.

You munch it and you can feel the crunch in your chest cavity.

Sadly the über crackers cost about $5.00 at Life Source for six large flatbread crackers, which make them a treat reserved for special times.

That’s right — I said it — this is the champagne of crackers.

And while I promise not to make this blog an outlet  for heralding just any old product, I can’t help but proselytize for ones that have made moving to Salem a fantastic foodie adventure.

CCCRRRRRRUUUNNNCCCCHHHHHH!

Oregonian’s majorly meta coupon story

When I get the Oregonian on Tuesday I sit down in our IKEA poing chiar next to the fire stove and  lay the Food Day section  gingerly on my lap like a blanket.

My discovery of Food Day has been the only thing keeping me from staving off paper newspapers altogether. It has been my only newspaper joy after learning that Washington Post Book World was going out of print as a single section. Food Day is compulsively readable and chatty in a good way.

Ok, it’s not the only thing keeping me hooked on print.

I’m a major coupon clipper. So wasn’t I surprised to pick up the Food Day to see a front-page feature story on a woman right here in Oregon who saves up to 75% shopping for her family of four by implementing a coupon strategy.

Actually, what she does is more of a coupon lifestyle. And she’s got a website to back it up.

The one important fact the reporter did not mention was how much time this woman spend working the coupon angle. My guess is at least eight days a week.

This is a great story for three reasons:

1. It has the “slightly crazy person doing awesome things” vibe I love about features

2. It is a subtle plug for the Oregonian’s own Sunday coupon section.

3. If you take it a step farther, it offers an implicit argument for buying a paper newspaper instead of just reading it online. Buying a paper newspaper, especially the Sunday edition, more than pays for its price in coupons.

I personally like the feel of scissors cutting through glossy coupon paper, though I know some people actually hate coupons for just that reason.

But the argument against coupons that you hear most often is related to time — how much is your time worth to you.

I say, if you’re going to sit through Season Two of Highlander on DVD anyway, you might as well be clipping coupons.

Salem Oregon Must-do list

Just created what will soon be my constantly changing Salem Oregon must-do list. Here’s the current one, you’ll find the list on its own page on the right column under the F.A.Q.’s.

Top Ten Things to Do in Salem, Oregon

10.  Run, don’t walk past the Oregon State Hospital.

9.  Take in a flick at the Northern Lights Pub Theatre. Assuming they’re not still playing Twilight. (Don’t tell me it’s Theatre Pub. I say if the movie theater is serving beer, it’s going first).

8. Check out some consignment furniture at Encore on Commercial Street SE.

7. Pop in for a spin around the galleries (Tuesday is free) at Willamette University’s Hallie Ford Museum of Art.

6. Chat up the booksellers at the Book Bin or Tea Party Bookshop.

5. Pick a wine off the wall at Morton’s Bistro in West Salem.

4. Stroll among the cherry trees at the State Capitol (they’re almost out!).

3. Chat with Jim Bernau at Willamette Valley Vineyards.

2. Gaze with wonder at how tchochkes can be stylish when grouped by color or theme at Engelberg Antiks.

1. Stop in for a make-your-own cannoli at the Little Cannoli Bakery in the Reed Opera House.

Blueberries! Shout it out!

If you set small but glorious goals for your life, there is no way that you can be unhappy.  For me, one of these goals has always been to own a blueberry bush.  On the list of things I wanted in my move to Oregon, blueberries ranked pretty near the top. You could say that I move with my mouth.

We arrived in December, so I must tell you that the wait is almost unbearable.

I bought two blueberry bushes in late February at Terra Gardens on the Northeast side of Salem, just past Lancaster Drive.  They cost $9.99 — who knew happiness could be had so cheaply?

I planted them in a half sunny, half shady spot at the side of the house. If you’re going to buy blueberries, the trick is to purchase at least two because they pollinate each other, allowing for a more robust fruiting.

Being plants that love acidic soil, they really love it here in Oregon. That must account for why we wanted to put roots down here too — our humor can get kind of wicked…

My blueberries are of the following variety:

Toro:

Continues to amaze us with its easy to pick berries that hang like grapes from the stocky bush. While not as fast a grower as some of the other varieties, Toro has outstanding ornamental qualities. The flowers turn from hot pink to bright white and contrast nicely with the bronze colored spring foliage. Deep green summer foliage turns to the brightest of reds in the fall.

Reka

Was selected and developed in New Zealand. It is vigorous, fast growing and adapts well to a wide range of northern climates and soil types. Gardeners will marvel at Rekas bountiful yields of early ripening, medium sized, tasty berries. Burgundy red fall color is an added landscape bonus!

These descriptions are courtesy of Fall Creek Farm & Nursery in Lowell, OR.

I can hardly wait.