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Firehouse

I really love it when I put a dollar in the vending machine at work and my Twix gets stuck. Then watching the vending machine angrily process it’s failure like R2D2, stomping around on it’s stubby little legs, before it sighs and concedes, dropping a second Twix bar for free. I know that this is anthropomorphizing the vending machine. But I swear he hates me. So I treasure these little victories. I don’t win often in life (my results in the Banana Belt race should make that obvious). So I take what I can get. Even if all I can get is a free Twix bar every couple of weeks.

I felt the same winning feeling when I went to Firehouse without any idea that it was happy hour. I’d never been for dinner, and I wanted to scream “This pizza is TWO DOLLARS OFF, suckers!” But I realized that they already knew this. They made the prices. To brag about it would make me look like a buffoon. So I just kept my mouth shut.

Aesthetically, the place looks amazing. They have all of the things that fancy restaurants should have. Like big black and white pictures and huge windows and warm repurposed wood and lots of visible fire where they either cook or pretend to cook things. The staff were all super nice and knowledgeable. They have cooking books all around that I think are for ambiance, because the chefs all appear to know what they are doing.

Firehouse
711 NE Dekum St
Portland, OR 97211
503.954.1702

The pizza is good. I’m not a “foodie” (slang for “blowhard who rarely cooks for themself”) so I’m not going talk about shit that I don’t understand. I’m just going to say that it had all of the ingredients that a pizza should have, and that the bread part was on the bottom, then the red stuff, then balls of white stuff, then some green stuff, then some fish swimming around in little pools of olive oil. And I didn’t have to unwrap it and cook it myself, which was a nice touch. Well played, Firehouse.

I also went for brunch one Sunday. I like brunch because it’s just breakfast with a fancy name, so it looks and sounds classy. And it’s always cheaper than dinner, so you can take people out to brunch and act like you’re a high roller, even if you’re the kind of guy that gets really excited about a free Twix bar. And brunch comes in the morning or early afternoon, so it’s the perfect place to go after getting drunk and embarassing yourself the previous night in any of the common methods of embarassing oneself while drunk (competitively and/or socially and/or sexually, etc). And nothing takes the sting out of drunken embarassment like continued intoxication. Two mimosas, please.

I had the french toast, which was all turtled up underneath berries and a mounds of butter and whipped cream. You can’t hide from me, delicious French toast!

I’ve got nothing but compliments for this place.

And speaking of turtles, here’s a video of an adorable turtle getting frisky with a high top. I assume the turtle will be ordering two mimosas in the morning. And maybe one for the shoe, as well.