A tasting of cheap food along the Washington and Oregon coast

Friends,

If you want to succeed, wake up before sunrise, go to sleep after sunset, work all day with all your strength, and do at least three hours of reading and writing before you go to bed. And rest on the Sabbath. That was what Grandfather always says.

Today started in the darkness and drizzle of Autumn day in Portland. Having heard many good things about Camp 18 on Oregon’s Highway 26, which cuts between Portland and Cannon Beach, I endeavored to try it. When I pulled up to its outdoor museum paying honor to loggers of the area’s past, real tough men, the spirit sank. Tthe parking lot was empty. The restaurant apparently is only open Friday through Sunday for tourists from Portland making the coastal trek.



A man on a mission, though, will not have his heart troubled for too long. I looked to the backseat and there was my reward: a slice each of burrata and mushroom pizzas from Ken’s, leftovers from yesterday, and most of the odd flavored pie from Lovely’s 50 50. The burrata, owing to its fantastic and generous sauce, tasted better than it did yesterday. The mushroom lost some of its finesse. And Lovely’s was even less lovely than yesterday.





While eating at Ken’s last night, a woman next to me, who was probably flirting, as Mother says is common when I get that sun-kissed hair and skin from hiking several days, told me, after she found out I would be in Astoria today, “You must, absolutely must try Josephson’s Smoked Fish.” She put her hand on my wrist when she said it, causing me to pull back. Although I spoke to her no more at the restaurant, when I drove past Josephson’s today, I decided I would heed her advice.



They serve lunch, have smoked salmon for purchase by the quarter, half, and full pound, and sell their own canned fish. As it was driving me mad not being able to weigh my food, I told the fishmonger about Sam’s dishonest prepackaged seafood weights. He assured me that his guys always put a little extra, just to ensure they do not short the customer. And sure enough, at 4.8 ounces weighed for a four ounce serving of his recommended lemon basil smoked salmon, he was honest. At $11, it was nearly four times what Sam’s salmon costs, though it tasted far better. While there, he offered me a sample of their smoked sturgeon, which was wonderful. Uncle loves smoked seafood – he is the one who introduced me to smoked oysters – and I purchased the small can for $30. Uncle is going to be a very happy camper when I return.







Clearly that little salmon portion was not going to satiate my appetite, so I asked a random lady on the street of downtown Astoria where I should eat lunch. “You must go over to Bowpicker’s. They make great fish and chips.”

It was just a short few blocks away, just across from the Maritime Museum, and when I arrived, there was quite a line for this cash only establishment. They cook and serve out of an old boat. The fish is caught the day before and they use albacore tuna, a white tuna used mostly for canned tuna. This fish selection was a surprise to me because who would ever think of frying tuna? It was $10 for a half order, which includes three, rather than five, fish chunks. They were good, but the fries were not freshly cut, which I consider a prerequisite when you sell “fish and chips.” .







Perhaps 30 minutes north of Astoria, poking out between the clouds on an isolated peninsula near where the Niawiakum River empties into the oyster capital of the Northwest, Willamette Bay, I came across Goose Point Oysters. A small roadside sign welcomed friends to stop, so you knew I would not refuse an invitation.

The inside is half tourist merchandise, half seafood market. They sell mostly oysters, including those already shucked, shooters, and pasteurized oysters still in the shell. The girl recommended the shooter to me, but I informed her that under no circumstances would I eat out of something that has a violent name and is associated with alcoholic poison. So I chose a dozen of their pasteurized oysters, which are sealed with a tight piece of plastic. She told me that once the plastic is removed, the oysters naturally open up, though, occasionally, you would need to bang the shell on the table. Initially, most of my oysters required banging against the table, but at the end, I realized that if I cut the plastic wrap and let them sit for a minute, they would naturally open.

A dozen was just $15, and they ask for tips, even though I was in charge of cleaning my tray and utensils and tossing out the garbage. Surprisingly, I did not think most of the oysters were good. Half of them had this creamy, yellowish yucky substance in them, almost like oyster feces. What is that stuff? The ones that lacked this substance tasted great. Hepatitis A usually does not become symptomatic for 2-4 weeks after infection, so we shall see.