Cornelius Pass Roadhouse
Cornelius. The name would throw me and my sister into giggles. In the
backseat of the Tempo or Mercury or Escort, whichever Ford model we owned
that year, wed bust up pronouncing it Planet of the Apes-style, plowing
through the tiny township on our way to Cannon Beach.
I don't think Cornelius is actually a town, its a pass (whatever that
means) and it used to seem farther than far. Now my mom lives minutes away
and the McMenamins have converted a roadhouse (another one of those terms
that sounds good on paper, but isnt clear in reality. It's hard not to
conjure up Patrick Swayze.) into a microbrewery in typical Northwest
fashion. This time my sister behind the wheel, me shotgun, mom and step-dude
in the back, we drove a mere mile or two to my last Portland meal on my
recent more (family) business than pleasure trip.
I cant believe I actually ate a salad during this week, but my body was
starting to rebel—who knew I was capable of tiring of the
fried/sweet/oily canon. Normally, I wouldn't have an issue (while outside
NYC, I tend to loosen my dietary rules) with eating french fries for lunch
and dinner, but it had become too much, I needed real vegetables. So, the
Thai chicken salad it was. It wasn't remarkable, but appropriately crispy,
fresh and went well with a ruby ale. Really, at least on this particularly
evening, food was merely an excuse for drink. We downed a few diverse
microbrews, then hit a nearby Albertsons for a case or something lower brow.
Pass Roadhouse * 4045 NW Cornelius Pass Rd., Hillsboro, OR