I had no idea that last weekend's jaunt to Portland would be a gastronome's dream, but indeed it was. First up: brunch at Belly Timber, which is Victorian slang for "food of all sorts" including the most soul-satisfying fried chicken and waffle doused in bacon butter and maple syrup.
MN called it a turkey leg, it was that massive. I could swear the bird had been brined, the flesh was so moist, well-seasoned and herbaceous under the crispy, crunchy batter.
The fresh bacon bits served as a good savory balance against the sweet syrup and melting ooze of butter.
If not for the strong cup o' Stumptown brew to help it all down, I'm certain I woulda slid under the table into a food coma ...