Portland, OR / Ketchikan, AK - Day 1

“Centralia!” is the answer you would most likely hear if you were to ask any top food critic the following question: Where can I get a first class meal prepared by a world-renowned chef?  Also, no it’s not. 

A few months ago, Chad and I had dinner with our friends Melanie and Robert.  Robert is quite a foodie, and I asked about some of the restaurants he loves.  He told us about this little Mexican restaurant in Centralia called La Tarasca.  The enthusiasm in his voice, coupled with his incredible description of the food, sealed the deal: we were going to try La Tarasca.  Except that we immediately forgot about it.  We were reminded tonight when Chad’s buddy from work recommended it when we texted him on our way to Portland asking where to eat in Centralia.

La Tarasca doesn’t serve chips and salsa.  Instead, sitting on our table, was a small bowl of pickled carrots and onions.  As we scanned the menu, I looked down and noticed a pickled green bean hidden under the carrots.  It was the only bean in the bowl, and there was no way I was going to let Chad have it, so I grabbed it and popped it in my mouth.  Just as it entered my mouth, I noticed how fat it was for a green bean.  And it burst as I chewed.  I don’t remember beans “bursting,” and I sure don’t recall seeds like this… I began to think to myself, but I was interrupted mid-thought when my entire face exploded.  My mouth and throat began to burn.  And I mean BURN.  I looked at Chad with desperation in my eyes, but he was just staring at me with a sort of bewildered expression.  My tongue felt like it had been drag-racing across hot asphalt.  Every drop of fluid in my body raced to my mouth to extinguish the fire.  I just sat there, holding a napkin below my open mouth to catch the constant drool-stream.  I couldn’t talk, my brain quit working, and all I could do was stare at Chad and suck air in little puffs through my mouth.  Finally, in what I can only describe as Kathleen Turner’s voice, I said, “that bean was SO HOT!”  That’s when Chad told me that it wasn’t a bean, it was a jalepeno, and then he inquired as to whether I was an idiot.  Or maybe that's just how I felt.

We ordered chicken mole and carnitas, and eventually I was able to eat.  Our friends were right, the place serves amazing food.  Just be warned that those green beans in the pickled carrots are not—I repeat—NOT green beans.

We listened to great music while we drove to Oregon in the dark freezing night.  We arrived at the Holiday Inn by the Portland airport at 8:30.  Our first room was nice, but the thermostat was stuck at 86 degrees and so we had to move across the hall.  Tomorrow morning we'll fly to Ketchikan for a Christmas party, so let’s hope I have more interesting things to report than a hot pepper and a broken thermostat.

Nighty Night, folks.

The Niemeyers