Bottom Scoop: Sweet Corn, Waffle Cone Chips, Caramel by April Bloomfield. Top Scoop: Mint Leaves with Sea Urchin Meringues by Jenn Louis.
Salt & Straw SE Division
Category: brunch
hey hey lily day
I’ve blown a few endorphins in my life. Spent them on rich food, fine wine, great literature, George T. Stagg, playing my anger like an instrument, cheap tacos, being despondently and inconsolably sad, numerous days of solitude in the desert, Ancient Age, being blissfully and serenely happy, bad poetry.
Last weekend I found a place to settle down with a superfriend who recently completed a 30-day cleanse (an anti-inflammatory diet which is restrictive of many foods, no caffeine, no sugar, no hooch). The sheer fact that she would choose to spend time with me during and after her trial is worthy of a medal in bravery and restraint.
Lily Day Cafe is sandwiched between Foster and Powell. It’s owned by the genius goddesses who once owned Dot’s Cafe, a darkened parlor of fries and Strongbow, the very best kind. Their new path is bright and well-curated; yardsticks lining the wainscoting, true tchotchke placed in cozy corners.
You don’t have to spend many endorphins at Lily Day, you can if you want to, but it’s okay to just chill out. The majority of the menu is based on sandwiches that are paired with a dip, or perhaps a dunk.
Chorizo, cotija, as if my spirit was floating around the kitchen offering suggestions, there is corn in this. Life is a hollow room without corn in sandwiches. The dunk for this offering is a tomatillo green sauce. This is an off-menu sandwich, A Special, if you will.
Cleansed Colleen ordered, in addition to the pear puree-raspberry liquer-cava cocktail pictured up-post:
On the subject of how and where to spend your endorphins, just look at this adorable cocktail menu. Lily Day has something precious to say:
So gosh darn cute. I tried the Spirited Coffee which balanced like an expert aerial yoga instructor.
Maybe you’ve noticed a recent trend in posts featuring raving accolades for my friends. You are well read and perceptive. Colleen is endlessly giving, supportive and encouraging. She will blast Cat Power with you, she will stroke your hair while you sob. Colleen is a lady who holds you close. Her beauty is rivaled only by the gale-force of her kindness. If you have any questions about healing or health, herbs or honesty, she gives outstanding advice on all subjects – a professional massage therapist and holistic guide who can school you on all aspects of endorphin expenditure. You can find her services here, or in Lily Day Cafe most Saturday afternoons.
following the masses
Just because you order wisely doesn’t mean you order well. It’s possible to be ‘good at food’ and simultaneously good at very little else. Food is not a virtue.
Lots of people eat at Mother’s in downtown Portland. Lots of people wait in line, tourists shove their luggage into a doorway the width of a very petite woman. The name of this establishment dictates its patronage; there will be children. You’re an adult with no children in tow, you will wait 45 minutes for brunch because someone you trust says that you should.
As you dodge launched Animal Crackers and Sippy Cups you might as well get the pecan cinnamon bun/strudel/whatever. You can finish it for dinner.
The matzo ball soup is Worth It. Very few places in Portland serve it, even fewer make it well. Get a cup, not a bowl. The bowl makes you look like a glutton.
I’m a surveyor of biscuits and gravy. I have opinions. The high point of these is the half flour/half corn meal biscuit dough. The gravy is under-seasoned. The eggs are transcendent, see the edge crisp on the over easy? Get yours.
This is the brunch special on your one and only visit to Mother’s. The hollandaise is whipped to a thick and velvet meringue, the crab is sweet and new, the potatoes are treated with animal fat.
The waiter compliments the two of you on your fine ordering skills.
Food is not a virtue, get the hell out of there.
bunny bread surprise 