Do you remember the episode of Seinfeld where Elaine opened a store that only sold muffin tops (leaving a mountain of muffin stumps that even the homeless wouldn’t eat)? Imagine if those muffin tops were made out of delicious moist chocolate cake and two of them were used to sandwich a thick layer of sweet, fluffy, creamy, whipped something. If you still can’t quite imagine it, think Hostess Suzy-Q—only infinitely better.
In late August 2004 I had my first Whoopie Pie when my partner took me to one of his favorite places on earth—Monhegan Island, Maine. The cat is already out of the bag about Monhegan, but it is a place that is so special that we try and play it down. We selfishly don’t want to increase the relatively modest tourist traffic that plies the island in the summer.
This past August we were again privileged to stay on Monhegan. Our lodging of choice is the lovely, unpretentious Monhegan House. With no television, cozy cotton bedspreads, and a large communal bathroom on the second floor, the Monhegan House is the perfect place to get away from metropolitan life (although you can’t swing a dead cat without hitting someone reading the New York Times). Aside from the sheer beauty of the island, we were most looking forward to the Whoopie Pies available at The Novelty attached to the back of the Monhegan House. The Novelty has the best Whoopie Pies available anywhere in Maine, perhaps the world.
Sue, The Novelty’s master baker, food goddess, and all around wonderful person makes a Whoopie Pie that will knock your socks off. Before we left Monhegan we told Sue we were going to need a half dozen of them to take home with us (why God did we only ask for six?). I emptied out my Dopp kit which has a rigid structure, trying to ensure that they would make the trip unharmed. We were momentarily worried that the TSA might think that the cream in the middle of the Whoopies constituted a gel that would be confiscated before we boarded our flight back to Washington. We vowed to eat every single one before passing through security if necessary. But then we thought that no Mainer, TSA agent or not, would be so cruel as to deprive us of our Whoopie Pies. Although we did imagine a scene that would involve having to bribe one of them with some of our WP booty.
We confirmed Sue’s Whoopie Pie prowess when we spent subsequent days traveling through Maine trying every WP we came across. None of them even came close. Even with my sweet tooth, these lesser WPs went unconsumed after the first bite. We don’t know Sue’s last name, but we do know that she makes the best Whoopie Pies anywhere. She also makes fantastic pizza and amazing oatmeal raisin cookies that have a bit of orange flavor and a hint of salt on the outside.
Although I love to bake, I am not going to attempt to recreate Sue’s WPs at home. No doubt there is more to Sue’s genius than a mere recipe.
I have spent the better part of an hour trying to come up with just the right kind of clever angle to put on this post. Being an urban plannner, I feel I should present all kinds of deep nuance to explain my fascination with Portland, Oregon. But the bottom line is that no clever angle could really convey my enthusiasm for this rain-soaked gem in the Pacific Northwest.
As a planner, I have heard for years how Portland is the holy grail of city and regional planning in the United States. Not a day went by in graduate school that someone didn't cheer for (or jeer at) Oregon's 1970s groundbreaking law mandating urban growth boundaries for all its 241 urban areas. Finally, one weekend last November I had the chance to see the place for myself. It lived up to all of my expectations. The impact of the urban growth boundary is a wonderful, vibrant, walkable city. Even the constant rain and gray didn't dampen my enthusiasm. I made a return trip a few weeks ago with my partner who is a big fan of the glamour and pace of much larger cities. I was a bit worried that he might find it all a little sleepy--that my urban planning lenses were making the place much more interesting than it really is. Much to my delight and surprise, he loved the place as much as I do. Perhaps the only real difference between us is that he would qualify "The Best City in America" by inserting the word small before city.
I don't mind this because I never include New York City in any comparison, the place is just too damn fabulous and unique to be compared to any other--and once you remove New York from the discussion Portland rises right to the top of my list. I don't think it is my urban planner's bias that makes me feel like the success of Portland can actually be attributed to its wise land use. So often I go to American cities and just wish I could squeeze all the great things about the metro area into the core of the city and generously sprinkle it with housing, green space, services, and shopping (even for groceries). Imagine how much more dynamic Cleveland would be if all of those empty lots downtown contained Severance Hall, or the Cleveland Institute of Arts, or condos, or streetfront retail, or anything. Imagine how lively Minneapolis (or even Chicago) would be if its downtown loop had better integration between its housing, retail, and office districts. What if the fabulous Asian markets and restaurants in northern Virginia were in Washington DC's Chinatown instead? What if Seattle didn't have that hideous freeway separating its downtown from its residential neighborhoods? What if pigs could fly...?
Still, Portland is about more than its land use patterns, and it is certainly more than the sum of its parts. Its public transport is second to none, it has the legendary Powell's books, it has a lively arts scene, great shopping, great restaurants, great neighborhoods, a great physical setting, great proximity to the mountains and some of the most amazing coastland in the world, and has beautiful agricultural lands within 10 miles of the city line. Its corporate architicture is mundane at best, but its smaller scale arhitecture is quite interesting and has a vernacular flair. In fact, the best thing about Portland is that it knows what it is and it does it really well. Even its provincialism is more like a contented self-awareness then the boosterism or narrow world view found in many other cities that seem to care more about being something they are not, rather then being happy with what they are.
In general I can find something to love in almost any city. It just so happens that Portland puts it all together in a way that makes it a very special place, and to me, the best city in the USA.