zabbo

Alice and I have talked about painting since before we moved into this house. It’s only been a few months, sure, but it’s been a long two months. Alice finally had enough and we set out to try our first room. We started with the dinky entry way that is just inside the front door. It’s dinky. I would guess it’s about six foot by six foot by.. how tall are our ceilings? 10 feet?

Alice wins all kinds of points for finding the Miller paint store just down the street from us at Pine and Grand. We stumbled somewhat blindly into a super helpful employee guy (ask for Sean) who helped us find the right kit for our first job. It was very nice to find someone who was clearly enthusiastic about what he was talking about. He was particularly excited about these brushes made right here in Portland by Purdy. We got some of those and some rollers and some sanding stuff and this crazy tack cloth stuff and some spackle and a cute edger and an extendo-pole and some tape and a cheapo plastic tarp and a scraper and paint and primer. I was surprised by how heavy three gallons feels after seven blocks.

You can see what the room looked like when we moved in. That picture was actually taken to show off the cute Ikea bits we got to keep our coats and shoes in line. You can also see the dark purple wall and horrible off-green. The main goal was to get rid of that green. It’s Alice’s kryptonite. We went with a simple off-white for the trim and intended to brighten the room up with some yellow.

All told we ended up with two coats of primer and two coats of color. We taped off the floor and the glass and the light fixture. We also took the opportunity to crack open the window above the front door that the previous super-stars had nailed shut and then painted over. That, and learning to work with the primer, made the first coat the longest by far. It was a solid 4 hours for two people. Well, maybe not solid. We probably spent more time singing along to Madonna than a professional might. We got pictures after the first coat of primer. You can see pretty clearly how hard it was to beat the purple into submission. The second coat went on very quickly. I might have been going too fast with the roller, though. I managed to frost myself.

Luckily, the trim only needed one coat of white on top of the primer. That all went pretty smoothly. The purple, though, refused to die. We weren’t as thorough with the primer in the corners as we should have been. After the first coat it was still pretty obvious that there was something dark and evil lurking under the yellow. We really laid it on thick with the second coat, which went on very quickly, and that seemed to do the trick. Enough so, anyway, that we aren’t interested in the dimishing returns that a third coat would bring.

So, one down and, depending how you count, at least five much larger rooms to go. It’s going to be a very long summer. But if the other rooms turn out like this one did, it’ll be worth it.

Alice and I gave Tabla (see what Google Local has to say) this weekend to celebrate her first paycheque at her new job. I should talk about her new job some time, I really should, but first Tabla.

Alice knew much more about it than I did. She mentioned having heard that the chef behind it is a Western Culinary grad, which is not in the least bit surprising — one might say very common for a restaurant in Portland. She also warned that reviews she’d read complained about the serving sizes. More than likely such a complaint comes from a seam-bursting member of the Hungry Man or — I still can’t say this with a straight face — Enormous Omelet Sandwich generation and as such is actually a ringing endorsement.

So, in we went. The menu offers a very interesting three course dinner option where you choose an appetizer, a half-portion of pasta, and a half entrée all for $20. Alice and I both opted for this as it let us cover more menu and it seemed like a reasonable amount of money to spend. I was weak and started with the cheater dish — roasted peppers, fresh mozarella, diced basil, and olive oil. It’s just too easy to make this taste great. I was pleased to see that they bothered to do a good job of it — the basil was clearly fresh and they dressed it up a little by serving it in a pastry shell that was admittedly hard to disassemble. I was neither thrilled with nor disappointed by my pasta course. The beefy sauce was quite tasty and, while dry pasta isn’t a fundamental failling, I think I was in a mood for springy fresh pasta. Alice raved about her fresh pappardelle and rabbit sauce, though, which I’m going to aim for next time.

I’m going to be made fun of for what comes next, I just know it. I really enjoyed my entrée which was expertly crafted mashed potatoes, grilled asparagus, and some pork and sausage skewers. The sausage was nothing to write home about, sadly. However, the pork and asparagus were both startlingly well prepared. The pork was not dry and disgusting at all. The asparagus was fantastic. I’m told by a certain someone that this amazing feat is attained by mere mortals who have blanched, shocked, and grilled as often as you or I put our pants on each morning. I refuse to believe it — I think they have some asparagus gnome tucked away in the kitchen.

I’m going to be made fun of because of Western Culinary’s black box test. At the end of the program the students are presented with a pile of ingredients to prepare for the school’s chefs in a fixed amount of time. The unlucky students get totally mad things to prepare. Chicken hind-quarters, a whole fennel bulb, and farro; GO. The lucky ones, like a certain someone I know, managed to draw — wait for it — steak, potatoes, and asparagus. If Iron Chef is the Indy 500 and this black box test is driving in Boston then drawing those three is like going to some rural county where they don’t test parallel parking to get your driver’s license.

Finally, the portion sizes were absolutely not too small. I found them just right. We managed to still have a bit of appetite left for the third course but weren’t bursting at the end of the meal. I can imagine someone raised to think that it’s reasonable to eat a pound of anything for breakfast would be irritated by the mass to dollar ratio but our reasonable friends across the atlantic who relate their portions to the size of the human stomach would be well at ease.

Anyway, two thumbs up. I’m looking forward to the visits of my distant friends so we can return and have a nice meal.