GabrielMathews.com | Biological Log

Tonight, after the downfall of chaos (Portlandese to English translation; snow),  Lesa and I decided to go to the lounge formally known as Colosso. It now goes by “Swift”.

The mild lighting and Flaming Lips was a welcome shelter from the chilly outdoors. The smell of the smoke was still lightly permeated through the walls from when it was smoke friendly establishment. The modern prints of Dizzy Gillespie, Willie Nelson, and Bjork were a far cry from low hung chalk drawings and the Spanish temperament I had known before. Lesa and I sat in the back of the lounge against a pretty cushy bench and waited for our friends to arrive. After scanning the menu and ordering a drink, the friends sat down and we made our choices. I was reminded by, whom I assume was the owner, that this was NOT Colosso. This was prompted by my disappointed sighs while asking for clams…a guy has to try yeah?…8)

Bjork Print

Round the table we went. I ordered Herb Grilled Calamari with a side of fries and some kimchi. Rebecca had the Roast Chicken Breast. Constantine, the Smoked Tomato Strozzapreti. Adam, the Lomito. Last, but not least, Lesa ordered the Swift Burger. Meanwhile I had finished my Coke. I guess I was pretty thirsty last night as I had about 4 of them. Good mix. Lesa had ordered the Sweet Tea Vodka which was served with a clove infused slice of lemon; served hot.

Swift Lounge Menu

When the meals arrived, I took inventory of the plating almost immediately. Adam and Lesa’s sandwiches were almost immediately wetting the plate as the buns weren’t grilled. The Swift Burger was an intimidating monolith of bun and meat. The Memphis relish was, as Lesa put it, “very tangy”. It scored 6.5/10 based on taste and experience.

Swift Burger

Adam had similar issues with “juicing” on the plate for the Lomito. Ranked 5/10 based on taste and experience.

Lomito

Constantine was happy with the music, but stated that it was a little loud. His food was not to his satisfaction, however he scored it 6/10 based on taste and experience.

Smoked Tomato Strozzapreti

Rebecca was absolutely enthralled with the Roast Chicken Breast. Score of 9/10 based on taste and experience…apparently the skin is really tasty.

Roast Chicken Breast

I enjoyed marvelled at the flavor dance party that occurred in my mouth when I tried the Calamari. 8/10 based on dance party in mouth. The kimchi was close to what I imagine eating an aborted fetus might taste like cold. I can’t recommend it. I think it was a matter of eating cold with hot (Kimchi/Calamari) that made it taste so egregiously horrible. The fries were super tasty though.

Calamari, Fries, Kimchi

Overall, after everything is said and done, I’d recommend this place as an awesome place to at least try. It is a little hit or miss, but I can say with full confidence that the Calamari is spot on. Overall score 7/10 based on experience, cleanliness, tasty dance party, and cushy welcome cave out of the snow. I can’t wait to try the place in the summer–I bet the burger will go PERFECT with a nice calm evening of jazz. You can check out the complete menu on their website – http://www.swift-lounge.com/

~G

As I’ve said in the past couple posts, I’ve been doodling a lot lately. I’ve also been coding, rendering, modeling, dreaming, and listening. My ears have been taken over by a lot of ambient songs; mostly Tycho’s- Coastal Brake, Solar Fields, and Carbon Based Lifeforms. Mix this with lucid nights thinking of how your eyes really see blurred lights vs the recent trend of ‘bokeh’ in every media channel, what does music look like to a baby in utero, stalking my passions like a lion in tall grass.

I’ve taken it upon myself to really assess what my temperature levels are on any given day as far as temperament and emotional symbiont balance. The other day I was on a conference call with a dozen or so people and wound up blowing up at a co-worker. I was able, at the same time , to watch my physical change as this was happening. My body got so tense, that I had to stand up and walk around the office while on the call. Normally, as far as being prompted to explode, I am like a grass reed that just flexes with the wind. It could be chemical, it could be intolerance for disrespect, or it could just be my own disability to put things into context. I’m not sure. I did feel bad though after all was said and done. I don’t like loosing my cool…especially when I do it and direct it at a fellow human being. We’re all just trying to live, yeah?

On a more positive note, I got the Sprint production photos back from the photographer – Michael Floyd. Super cool dude. We met up, along with the Sprint account manager at the store and I directed the shots. Some will be posted shortly on www.idlww.com. I’ll make a case study in the next few days for my website. Stay tuned for that.

Today, in a bit, I’m going to run over to Goodwill to buy some shitty art. My airplane friend Rachel is holding a ShArty at her house. Shitty Art Party-You buy shitty art, and try by whatever means to make it worse. My good friend iLan lived at a house where they did this up in Seattle. I love the idea. It is probably the only kind of party that I could go to and not feel socially awkward. I will be sure to take photos by the end of the night…some before and after pictures for sure.

Reader Poll-Do you drink hot tea at home? If so, what do you dislike about your kettle design? What do you like? Do you drink tea for some sense of comfort, medicinal, nostalgic reason? Let me know!

~G

Now that we have this settled you may go outside and wonder about more trivial things. Like what state has the best state song, which city is best for urban camping, or whether or not brusheezy.com and vecteezy.com are a good idea or not.

Tonight I had the best Reuben. Ever.

In fact, it was so good, that I had to order a second to take home, photograph, eat, and blog about. Don’t believe me?

Glutton

Riding my bike in search for a place to eat, I generally stay away from places that I feel I could get hepatitis from just looking at. Then again, these gems have some amazing food. I didn’t let the couple, that I am pretty sure were penetrating each other with swaths of affection, stop me from walking into “My Father’s Place” at 523 SE Grand Ave. The ceiling cladded with musical instruments, mining gear, and tin trucks, welcomes you with a playful dangle. I was greeting my the cook, Morris (I think that was his name). He proceeded to tell me this story about a panhandler, and in a whispery voice, “I was taking a shit and…” I tuned out, but nodded none the less. I was a little nervous.

I sat down, glanced over the menu of typical bar foods: breakfast all day, spaghetti, seafood platter, etc…Reuben…DING! It is one of the few surviving forms of epicurean gut-check for an establishment such as this. Fast forward to chills of happiness and misty eyes. I order a second to take home and start a clumsy bike ride home swinging my bag of magic back and forth as I try to signal my turns, brake, and stay on my bike all at once.

Home-

Bag of magic

Meatness is high.

The meat is so good. It breaks apart with the kraut and melts in your mouth. That is my biggest complaint with all other Reubens. The meat always sticks together with the fat. In this one though, the meat/fat ratio is perfect. Very little fat. Lots of butter, so a whole lot of fat. And I am pretty sure he put heroin in it because I am already getting the sweats/chills/shakes. I need another.

NEED.

If you ever pass the place (you’ll see two people practically having sex on the table outside*) go IN!

~Gabe

*By the time I left, he was showing her how to properly choke someone out. It was pretty amazingly random.