Dear Willamette Week,
I have friends, who, while I’m off making them cocktails, sneak into my office and reduce the font size on my computer. I know this because every month it gets a bit more difficult to read, and they always look at me like I’m an inside joke.
The 2011 edition of your restaurant guide, is obviously targeted at continuing this visual harassment. I am sure that servers all over Portland will testify that I rarely bring reading glasses to their restaurants, and order willy-nilly, pointing at random things because the menu type is too damn small to decipher in the sophisticated lighting of these, so-swank, if-you-can’t-read-this-menu-you-are-too-old-to-eat-here, culture lounges. Truth be known, that is how I first tried frog legs.
Today, however, as I headed out the door to Coffeehouse Northwest, I thought ahead and brought my reading glasses. There were plenty of Willamette Week’s on the rack. I was happy. A perfect cappuccino warmed my hand, and while I waited for an empty table, I casually opened your restaurant guide and paused. I cleaned my spectacles to no avail, and clumsily titubated towards the bright light streaming through the windows. At first, it seemed I’d brought the wrong glasses, but no, it was just that the type size you had picked for your epicurean roundup was somewhere around four pixels in height. I’ve seen warnings on prescription advertisements printed smaller.
Oh, Willamette Week. I know I’m not one of the hip young members of your targeted demographic (do you kids even say “hip” anymore?). But is it really fair that I have to bring not only my reading glasses but a magnifying lens to read your 2011 restaurant guide? I applaud your efforts to limit the clear-cutting of our forests and to shrink this tome to something approaching glove-compartment size, but still, your efforts are continuing the feeling of weltschmerz, that, in my declining years, has taken over my life.
Notwithstanding, I think your choice of Podnah’s Pit is a fine pick for your Restaurant of the Year. I’ve enjoyed my visits to Rodney’s new place, and as I’ve said in my review, his food reminds me of Maypearl Texas where we both grew up (he just said Waxahachie because everyone knows where that is). Little known fact – our ranches were so close, I accidentally shot one of his dad’s cows while the Bonnie and Clyde biopic was filming from the front porch of one of our cabins. That incident was the real start of their family barbecue, not to mention the Dude/Murhead feud that rages to this day.
I know good Texas BBQ when I taste it.