Another wannabe movie like an earlier one here at pizza shop. Perhaps before my 80th birthday which gives me a year.
Time: Early June evening
Place: Pearl Bakery, Couch Street near Ninth, Portland, Oregon
Music: Your choice...
Voiceover: Pearl was one of the first places that felt comfortable to linger over coffee. Visiting Portland in the late 1990s, perhaps a year or two after they opened, we'd come for breakfast or lunch, wish we could find as delicious breads and seductive pastries near our apartment in New York. A few unfussy sandwich selections; you know it's Portland when one is PB&J.
Living here now we most often buy their multi-grain batard; favorite treat is not-too-sweet gibassier. Their quality stays high, I think, because their goals are modest. At the PSU Farmers' Market, the baker's wife is easy to talk to, interested in learning that artisan bakers in Vancouver, B.C., speak well of their product.


