Oregon: A State For Cheese.

I recently spent four days in the Mount Hood area, about 30 miles outside of Portland, in a remote cabin in the middle of the snow-covered mountains, and I have to tell you I was not impressed.

Not impressed with the food, I mean. The state of Oregon is beautiful, with some of the most majestic scenery I have ever seen. What I am referring to is the food. And I’m not talking about the legendary cuisine of Portland, which is where we ate our two decent meals (both breakfast). I’m talking about suburbia in the 30- to 100-mile radius of Portland.

One day, after breakfast at Voodoo Doughnuts, we decided to drive to Tillamook. Home of Tillamook cheese and their neighbor Blue Heron French Cheese Company, Tillamook is a quaint little town west of the Tillamook National Forest. This coastal town offers not only locally made cheese from Tillamook’s happiest cows and local seafood, but it also has a beautiful scene for whale watching and viewing monoliths. You might even spot a few common murres, a diving bird.

At a small restaurant downtown, we ordered fish and chips, but it was very bland. We expected the fish in a fishing town would have more soul or something. The cheese we sampled at the Tillamook factory, as well as at Blue Heron French Cheese Company, however, was fantastic. Nothing you can’t find at HEB, but I was happy to buy a few packages of cheese to support the local community.

The next day we ventured up to Mount Hood to the intimidating and impressive Timberline Lodge, which movie-lovers will remember from The Shining. Our $13 foot-long hotdogs from the little ski cafe next to Timberline came with barbecue sauce and pulled pork. However, it tasted like one of those sad gas station hotdogs (and looked like one too), and the pulled pork was most certainly from a prepared package bought at a retail club.

I did spot an impressive looking buffet in the lodge on the second floor, and the locally brewed beers we drank were satisfying. It is nice to sit and enjoy a beer during a blizzard.

Later that night we stopped at the Whistlestop Cafe in the middle of nowhere on Highway 26 where we ordered a chicken-fried steak. I was excited to receive a salad, steamed broccoli and a baked potato with the CFS; however, there was such an overwhelming amount of sausage gravy smothering the brick-like steak, it was pretty inedible.

Now for the good: Besides the over-the-top doughnuts from Voodoo Doughnuts, we ate at one of the many food carts in downtown Portland. Waffle tacos were our final meal before flying home. The little food truck had a menu of specialty waffles, folded over and stuffed with combinations like sausage, egg and maple syrup, and then wrapped gyro-style with foil. Genius and delicious. Tacos, in fact, seem to be a huge trend in Oregon. Even the small towns we passed through had multiple taco-based restaurants, both national chains and locally owned. In Portland, it seemed like the many food trucks were Mexican, Thai, Korean or waffle. Using 4Square on my iPhone, I saw that in the half-mile radius, there were seven waffle trucks and restaurants.

While I was blown away by the beauty of Oregon’s mountains, forests and coast, next time I visit, I’ll stay in Portland and make sure to cruise up Highway 5 to Seattle. I saw breathtaking wilderness, but I know sacrificed eating at some remarkable restaurants.