I have a source. It is just like in the movies when they have a contact who feeds them valuable, prized information regularly – the type of information that is not easy to come by. Luckily, my source happens to spend most of her time in New York City where there is a lot to report on.

Word on the street is to keep your eyes peeled and your noses perked around lunch time for a bright blue rickshaw…it is transporting delicious homemade foods along the Highline. You’ll find things like Grilled Steak Sandwiches with caramelized onions and blue cheese dressing on a rosemary roll and Roasted Portobello Sandwiches with pecorino, arugula and balsamic dressing. If you need to quench a sweet tooth, add on homemade banana bread or fresh baked cookies.

Okay, now that your palate is perked and you are in the know, all you have to do is check out the daily menu here and then follow spoon on twitter here to track down this gourmet lunch on wheels.

p.s. How did rickshaws start making such a splash in western cities? I have been seeing them in Chicago up and down Southport for the past few years. Maybe rickshaw driver is a past time to consider to make a little extra dough while finally taming my upper thigh “problem area?”

As usual, I am marking the passing days of my life by the food that I eat. It has been a whirlwind of a few weeks with the sale of our condo (yeah!), the purchase of our new house (double yeah), preparations for our annual trip to visit family in the Netherlands and Greece (phew) and my current trip to Portland, Oregon to visit a dear friend. I have learned in the past few days that doing other people’s dishes and chores can be very cathartic in busy times.  And, as always, I am finding satisfaction in providing love to those in need by cooking for them.   

This morning, I was up at 6 am, charged with the care of my favorite new little 6 week old baby for a few hours.  I put her in a sling, leashed up my friend’s dog and headed out to wander north Portland. Within a mile, I had passed two microbreweries, half a dozen cute eateries, an awesome non-profit salvage shop, I’d learned about storm water drainage systems thanks to an informational sign, marveled at a plastic quilt making project meant to inspire people to live plastic free and was finally lured into an amazing bakery.   Smells of their fresh-baked treasures and locally roasted coffee were flooding the street and beckoned me forth the like the Sirens to the rocks.  

I scanned the offerings in the case and on the menu, flicked the $5 bill in my pocket and asked, “Do you take credit cards?”  The affirmative answer started my usual uncontrolled bakery binge.  One irish soda bread, a jam filled scone known as a “jammer,” bread for panini making, coffee and a breakfast sandwich.

The breakfast sandwich deserves a paragraph of its own.  Last time I was in Portland, Maine, I blogged about the best bagel sandwich of my life.  Well, this West coast Portland has just earned the title for the best biscuit sandwich of my life.  It is the little things… they had split the homemade biscuit and toasted the open ends just slightly before melting white cheddar against a farm fresh egg and disk of sausage.  

Thank you Portland… for providing unexpected treats on every corner.  If measured by my culinary delights, this trip has been a major success so far.

Dear Hot Doug,
I never thought I would find another Yesterdog and I guess I still have not.
But claiming that they are still my sole hot dog love? Well, now my heart is caught.

I am not the first nor the last to sing praises. I know you have many a suitor.
Still, I have decided to come forth and proclaim my love! (hiding slightly, behind my computer)

It is not just the taste of your offerings that have me dizzy with delight.
I love the consistency, the options, the dry humor, the steady pace…. your operation is tight.

I know what to expect when I get there and it is worthy of the long line.
Fresh sausages, homemade toppings and the most PERFECT corn dog every time.

Our special dates are Fridays and Saturdays when you make those duck fat fries.
If I said I didn’t care for them or could live without, I would be telling you bold-faced lies.

Your sausage emporium really does it for me. I am addicted to your perfect treats.
There are no two finer words in the English language than the words ‘encased meats.’

Hot Doug’s
3324 North California
Chicago, Illinois

I can’t believe I forgot to tell you all about our street food experience in Portland, Oregon in January. Near my friend’s house, there is a a corner. On the corner in a trailer. In the trailer are two guys. The two guys make something they call Dutch Tacos. And they are gooooooood.

Peruse their menu of savory and sweet and then order up. Relax, Portland-style, while they cook up your snack. They will call your name and hand you a paper. In the paper is a waffle. In the waffle are things like sausage and maple butter. And in your mouth is a lot of happiness.

What: Flavour Spot
Where: Portland, Oregon
Why: Because sandwiching delicious things between a hot waffle is good. Eating it on a street corner is even better.

Warm and simple decor, an amazing beer selection, perfectly prepared food and communal seating. These were the keys that opened my doors. As my friend and I burst into laughter, I felt a strangers hand on mine…

“It seems we were seated in the wild corner of the restaurant.”

Into our lives walked new friends with whom we had more real conversations in the first hour than some have after a lifetime. Talk of enchanted New Zealand forests, green rooftops, budding romance… all the while our palates were dancing with delight. She shared one of her oysters. I kept the shell.

This year, I will remember to engage. I will face people without judgement. I will feel happy to be alive. I will seek sensory experiences. I will remember that despite all difficulties and hardships, the world is my oyster and is full of pearls. Happy New Year Friends.

For the second time in the past month, I enjoyed a nearly perfect brunch at the Sofitel in Chicago. The main dishes they prepare are very good but it is the extra service and treats dripping from the experience that put them over the top.

As we pulled up to the door at the Sofitel, just West of Michigan Avenue, we were greeted by a very special man named Patrick. His bright, genuine smile and ruddy cheeks exuded friendliness. He bid us good morning, welcomed us to the hotel and offered to take really good care of our car while we enjoyed brunch. (He proceeded to nestle our Honda sedan between three Mercedes and a Bentley). Patrick clearly felt pride in his work and faced the world with a glass that is always half full. I have thought of him almost daily since our Sofitel visit last week and have reminded myself to channel the same energy.

The architecture of the new hotel is notable and interesting, the decor modern and clean. I could go on about the atmosphere and service but I am so anxious to get down to the true meat of this post….. the pastries. Oh, good God, the pastries. Now, I know that I have a bit of a problem with my inflated love for donuts and baked goods. But, the Sofitel pastries brought me to a new level.

Coffee is served in a French press, fresh squeezed juice is poured for each person and before your meal arrives, a basket of fresh, flaky pastries descends upon the table. I heard a soft crescendo of music and swore that there was an angelic glow surrounding the breads… manna from heaven! They are the best pastries I have eaten outside of France.

Although the indulgence in the divine sweets made me happy, it also became somewhat of a distraction. After our basket was nearly emptied and our main dishes were about to arrive, I was relieved to see the server whisk it away…. until he brough it back filled again to the brim.

This is the point in my tale when we realize I have a problem. They say you have an addiction if your need or desires affect your normal life or personal relationships. Well, does not being able to continue a conversation with your family because you are too worried about eating or not eating another pastry qualify? Is it a bad sign if you break out into a cold sweat as you see the neighboring table cleared and a dirty napkin placed over the full pastry basket as it heads to the trash? What if you honestly have visions of stashing the uneaten pastries from the table beside you in your purse before the busser comes to claim them? And if major life decisions like buying a new house, choosing to get married or having a child are EASIER than saying no to a “pastry doggy bag” offered by the server… is it a sure sign of needing HELP?!?!?

I did turn down that free ‘to go’ box of chocolate croissants, pain au raisin and mini baguettes. But, I have regretted it every day since.

Thank you Blue Ribbon Bakery for such a delectable mid-day treat! Well, the truth is, I devoured the above snack about fifteen minutes after eating my enormous breakfast at Cafe Henri in New York. So, it was more of a “brunch dessert.”  Blue Ribbon was right across the street from the cafe and while I was in the neighborhood, I felt it was my duty to visit, sample and report.

5 Steps to a Snack from Taste Treat Heaven…

1. Toast a piece of your favorite bread. I suggest a nice white farm bread or italian loaf. However, anything would do, including a sweet pecan raisin. (yummmm) If you don’t have access to good bread, it is worth the money to treat yourself and mail order it from here.

2. Generously spread some thick, delicious honey on the bread. You can order the amazing 100% raw Mexican Honey seen above here.

3. Top the toast with thin slices of manchego cheese. You can likely find this near you but if not, order some along with other Spanish treats here.

4. Cut the toast in four triangles. I don’t know why… but the size and shape DOES matter. Ask any kid about the shape of her PBJ sandwich halves.

5. Close your eyes and take a bite. Crunchy toast, sweet and flavorful honey, cheese from heaven…. oh my. You will likely need to return to step one and repeat immediately.

I have not had a chance to eat there yet but word on the street is that all Blue Ribbon Restaurants are all worth a visit.

This past summer, while in New York City, I made my first pilgrimage to Magnolia Bakery. I went at night, waited around the corner and then gave into my hoarding instincts and grabbed cupcakes madly to fill my box. If you were reading back then, you will remember my report was less than enthusiastic.

During my more recent trip to the Big Apple, I followed the advice of friends and visited Billy’s Bakery. We ordered a sampling including Red Velvet Cake (one of my all time favorite things), Banana Cake and a few different cupcakes.

The decor was quaint and cute, the staff more friendly than Magnolia’s and the line shorter. And now I tiptoe to my true opinion…I didn’t love the cakes. Eeeek… can little midwestern girl truly turn her nose up at two of the most popular bakeries in New York City?! The cakes were nice and pretty but all were quite dry. Perhaps I am so spoiled by fresh cake out of the oven that I am not realistic about bakery case cake. Maybe I just ordered the wrong thing… some friends later told me the Ice Box Cake was the way to go or even a slice of pie. Finally, I might be realizing that I prefer desserts that are not too sweet and the icings at bakeries are often sugary as can be.

Excuses, excuses. Anyway, I just really wanted to love Billy’s Bakery and I do suggest you swing by if you are in the neighborhood. There is a good chance it isn’t the bakery… it might just be me.

p.s. Speaking of Red Velvet Cake, it may be time to bake one up with Valentine’s Day on its way. (Seems like a good time to eat red cake.) I think I will revisit this Red Velvet Cake recipe, which i haven’t made since last year.

Amazing food brings me such joy and excitement, I almost wonder if I have a problem. Spending time with my husband, who happens to be my number one comrade, and discovering small, quaint restaurants and bakeries, perusing the menus and sinking our teeth into one delicacy after another makes me happier than just about anything.

I have decided to start a new category on Whipped called Food Finds by City for others who may be traveling and enjoy recommendations. In the coming days, I will start by sharing my recent New York City favorites.

The photo above is the image of my dream breakfast. Cafe Henri is a small, ten table restaurant that features crepes and other brunch dishes. I enjoyed the scrambled eggs, which were certainly made with cream and the perfect balance between fluffy and solid…moist but not wet. On the side you will see my bacon, potatoes, small salad and fresh bread with homemade peach preserves. Even the cappuccino was perfection and arrived with a mountain of foam akin to an angel’s cloud. My husband ordered the nutella and banana crepe. After it arrived, I only saw the top of his head for about three minutes and his plate was clean. So, I gather it was equally as memorable.

Cafe Henri
27 Bedford St (between Carmine & Downing in the West Village)
New York, NY 10014
212.243.2846