Brooke with an E
Saturday night Sweetie and I had a fantabulous time hanging with grigorpdx and his lovely wife Al. That's pretty much always a guaranteed good time, but thanks to Brooke with an E it raised up to the fantabulous standard.
The plans for the evening were "happy hour." Which, generally, means we meet up at some watering hole for alcohol and see where the night takes us. We started at Salvador Molly's which, if you enjoy rum drinks and throwing peanut shells on the floor, is a place you must check out. We had cocktails and a couple of appetizers, there were still tables open (so it's not like we were wasting space), yet the waiter insisted on coming by approximately every 2 minutes to ask if we were ready to order yet? Had we decided on food? Had we had a chance to look at the menu? Time to move on.
Somehow we ended up at No Fish Go Fish on Hawthorne. I was familiar with the lunch cart they (at least used to) have on the corner of SW Yamhill and 5th, but was not aware they had an actual storefront location. A fantastic time was had from the moment we arrived until well after we left.
The fun started with the cocktail menu. You aren't going to get your standard margaritas and martinis here, no siree. Your selection includes such concoctions as The Crater Lake, Frank Sinatra and Brook's Frou Frou Drink. How can you pick from such marvelous selections?
Shortly after getting a chance to peruse the menus our waitress came up to take our orders. If she knew what an adventure it would be perhaps she would have pawned us off on another waiter. Sweetie does not, as a general rule, drink, and when he does drink he wants "something that tastes like a milkshake or candy." Outside of Bailey's Irish Creme he is not knowledgeable on different liquors, so needs a waitperson who can cater to his needs. Al is at the opposite end of the spectrum and wants a beverage so sour that it will cause patrons at adjacent tables to pucker up.
Our waitress was not only good at helping us navigate the drink menu, but also provided editorial commentary along the way. This drink was created for a regular patron. That drink was invented by Brooke herself. We learned it was Brooke with an E because she has a concoction named after herself (the aforementioned frou frou drink), although her name is misspelled on the menu. What great fun this was!
Brooke commented that she liked us, and wanted to get our food orders taken care of pronto because there was another couple in the restaurant who promised to be of the demanding variety. We assured her we were fine, and food would perhaps be called for later in the evening, but go ahead and help the other couple.
I won the prize for the best drink order of the night, if I do say so myself. I had ordered a Crater Lake - I can't remember what was in it, but I know it sounded really yummy. It came in a champagne flute and was a sparkling sapphire blue that normal bodies of water do not attain, but Crater Lake does. But that's not the best part. The best part was the garnish. Because there, floating in the middle of the drink, was a tiny Wizard's Island made of meringue. Whoever imagined anyone would make geographically accurate cocktails?
Shortly after serving us our drinks Brooke went to check on the demanding couple. Sweetie was observing her, just curious on how that interaction would go. Brooke noticed and, within full view of the other couple (if they chose to look) mouthed, "I don't like them!" to the Sweetie. Upon hearing this news the four of us about died laughing and fell even deeper in love with our waitress.
And so the night went on. Brooke would stop at the table and share stories with us. She'd continue chatting with us as she walked over to the demanding couple's table, only breaking away from our conversation at the exact moment she MUST begin talking to them. We invited her to be a part of a movie that grigorpdx, Al and I have been envisioning for the last several years, and she gladly accepted.
And then there was the straight man. Not speaking of his sexual orientation (not sure of his sexual orientation), but he was the straight man waiter foil to Brooke, the comedic wit waitress. We, eventually, had ordered some no fish sandwiches and after devouring them Al had a moment of, "Wait, this crust, how is it bound together? Usually in a case like this folks would use egg as a binding agent." I quickly clued in and panic ensued. Sweetie is allergic to egg, and we had ended up at this restaurant in part because we felt it wouldn't challenge sweetie's allergies. So we dispensed the straight man into the kitchen to find out what was in the crust of the sandwiches. He came back several minutes later with a laundry list of carbohydrates. "Yes, but what's the binding agent?!?!?!" I don't think Mr. Waiter knew what a binding agent was, "Um, water???" "Are you sure it's not egg?!?!?!" "Well, yeah, if that was all you cared about I could have told you that. They're vegan."
Oh yeah, Brooke had mentioned the vegan properties of some of the sandwiches to us earlier. But between the stories and the cocktails and the demanding couple we had completely forgotten that part of the story.
Brooke tried to talk us into staying on, because at 10:30 they would be featuring a rollicking game of "Strip Jeopardy." Even in our various states of tipsy we were afraid of exactly what that entailed. From there we wandered on and furthered our attempt to get Sweetie drunk. We didn't fully succeed, but we did get him a lot tipsier than I've ever seen him before, so progress is being made.
So if you're in the Hawthorne district and you're looking for a tatsy cocktail and perhaps some food to go along with you shoud definitely check out No Fish Go Fish. Ask for Brooke, tell her one of the crazy people who wants to put her in a movie sent you. If you're truly brave, use the restroom while you're there. I think I may still be suffering nightmares from that experience.
The plans for the evening were "happy hour." Which, generally, means we meet up at some watering hole for alcohol and see where the night takes us. We started at Salvador Molly's which, if you enjoy rum drinks and throwing peanut shells on the floor, is a place you must check out. We had cocktails and a couple of appetizers, there were still tables open (so it's not like we were wasting space), yet the waiter insisted on coming by approximately every 2 minutes to ask if we were ready to order yet? Had we decided on food? Had we had a chance to look at the menu? Time to move on.
Somehow we ended up at No Fish Go Fish on Hawthorne. I was familiar with the lunch cart they (at least used to) have on the corner of SW Yamhill and 5th, but was not aware they had an actual storefront location. A fantastic time was had from the moment we arrived until well after we left.
The fun started with the cocktail menu. You aren't going to get your standard margaritas and martinis here, no siree. Your selection includes such concoctions as The Crater Lake, Frank Sinatra and Brook's Frou Frou Drink. How can you pick from such marvelous selections?
Shortly after getting a chance to peruse the menus our waitress came up to take our orders. If she knew what an adventure it would be perhaps she would have pawned us off on another waiter. Sweetie does not, as a general rule, drink, and when he does drink he wants "something that tastes like a milkshake or candy." Outside of Bailey's Irish Creme he is not knowledgeable on different liquors, so needs a waitperson who can cater to his needs. Al is at the opposite end of the spectrum and wants a beverage so sour that it will cause patrons at adjacent tables to pucker up.
Our waitress was not only good at helping us navigate the drink menu, but also provided editorial commentary along the way. This drink was created for a regular patron. That drink was invented by Brooke herself. We learned it was Brooke with an E because she has a concoction named after herself (the aforementioned frou frou drink), although her name is misspelled on the menu. What great fun this was!
Brooke commented that she liked us, and wanted to get our food orders taken care of pronto because there was another couple in the restaurant who promised to be of the demanding variety. We assured her we were fine, and food would perhaps be called for later in the evening, but go ahead and help the other couple.
I won the prize for the best drink order of the night, if I do say so myself. I had ordered a Crater Lake - I can't remember what was in it, but I know it sounded really yummy. It came in a champagne flute and was a sparkling sapphire blue that normal bodies of water do not attain, but Crater Lake does. But that's not the best part. The best part was the garnish. Because there, floating in the middle of the drink, was a tiny Wizard's Island made of meringue. Whoever imagined anyone would make geographically accurate cocktails?
Shortly after serving us our drinks Brooke went to check on the demanding couple. Sweetie was observing her, just curious on how that interaction would go. Brooke noticed and, within full view of the other couple (if they chose to look) mouthed, "I don't like them!" to the Sweetie. Upon hearing this news the four of us about died laughing and fell even deeper in love with our waitress.
And so the night went on. Brooke would stop at the table and share stories with us. She'd continue chatting with us as she walked over to the demanding couple's table, only breaking away from our conversation at the exact moment she MUST begin talking to them. We invited her to be a part of a movie that grigorpdx, Al and I have been envisioning for the last several years, and she gladly accepted.
And then there was the straight man. Not speaking of his sexual orientation (not sure of his sexual orientation), but he was the straight man waiter foil to Brooke, the comedic wit waitress. We, eventually, had ordered some no fish sandwiches and after devouring them Al had a moment of, "Wait, this crust, how is it bound together? Usually in a case like this folks would use egg as a binding agent." I quickly clued in and panic ensued. Sweetie is allergic to egg, and we had ended up at this restaurant in part because we felt it wouldn't challenge sweetie's allergies. So we dispensed the straight man into the kitchen to find out what was in the crust of the sandwiches. He came back several minutes later with a laundry list of carbohydrates. "Yes, but what's the binding agent?!?!?!" I don't think Mr. Waiter knew what a binding agent was, "Um, water???" "Are you sure it's not egg?!?!?!" "Well, yeah, if that was all you cared about I could have told you that. They're vegan."
Oh yeah, Brooke had mentioned the vegan properties of some of the sandwiches to us earlier. But between the stories and the cocktails and the demanding couple we had completely forgotten that part of the story.
Brooke tried to talk us into staying on, because at 10:30 they would be featuring a rollicking game of "Strip Jeopardy." Even in our various states of tipsy we were afraid of exactly what that entailed. From there we wandered on and furthered our attempt to get Sweetie drunk. We didn't fully succeed, but we did get him a lot tipsier than I've ever seen him before, so progress is being made.
So if you're in the Hawthorne district and you're looking for a tatsy cocktail and perhaps some food to go along with you shoud definitely check out No Fish Go Fish. Ask for Brooke, tell her one of the crazy people who wants to put her in a movie sent you. If you're truly brave, use the restroom while you're there. I think I may still be suffering nightmares from that experience.
posted by Swankette at 9:00 PM
3 Comments:
Your comment about geographical garnish reminds me of a story. The Boston Beer Works had a very nice Watermelon Lager this summer. Crisp, light, slightly fruity, refreshing.
It is difficult to order this with a straight face while being mocked by your Manly Man Beer Drinking Friends who do not believe that fruit goes anywhere near beer.
But if you think they're done ribbing you about it, just wait until it shows up garnished with a festive slice of watermelon. I would've been better off if they'd served it in a martini glass. Or, you know, a purse.
Was really good beer, though.
Ah, Joe. Surely your "Manly Man Beer Drinking Friends" are not so unworldly as to not know of hefeweitzen and lemon?! Philistines!
By the way, I am proud to have ordered Brooke's Frou Frou Drink. It was kinda like lemon merangue with alcohol. Lots of alcohol. Yummy in a dessert-y sort of way. Nothing at all like the Horny Martini I had before it.
Get your mind out of the gutter! Horny as in horny toad ... it was made with tequila. Strong, but unfortunately not strong enough to erase the memory of the restroom.
My Manly Man Beer Drinking Friends drink their hefeweitzen without lemon, thank you very much. Although I've been known to drink mine with.
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