Matt's in the Market

We had lunch in Portland Public Market, at a restaurant called Matt's in the Market. Originally the younger siblings were going to join, but they ended up sleeping. My husband is convinced his younger brother is the harbinger of death and disease. We've taken both much younger siblings a lot of places, the youngest brother probably the most places (Williamsburg a couple of times, the beach, Montreal, Hershey, all over DC, etc). Inevitably, when we take him somewhere, my husband gets sick. He's pretty good at powering through, but he either gets some sort of communicable illness, a horrible allergy attack, or is poisoned (that would be what happened at Hershey). This time, he did not get sick, but instead his poor younger brother wasn't feeling well. Anyway, they missed out on probably the funkiest and most fun restaurant we visited, but I'm pretty sure we'll be back!

Matt's focuses on fresh produce from the market, and has that whole local thing going on. Being summer, this was a fabulous time to visit both the area and the restaurant. Actually, I regret not going back to Matt's for dinner.



Tomatoes of all kind surrounded the open kitchen area.

What amazed me was how fast Matt's was turning tables. Very glad we made a reservation - there was a huge line outside waiting for a seat! It was an interesting mix of people, tourists, business people wearing jackets, and refugees from 90s grunge fashion.



You can see the market and the various pigs from the window.

I had a glass of Cor Alba 2007 Celilo Vineyard Columbia Gorge, a Gewürztraminer / Riesling mix. It was fine, not really my thing, but my husband loved it.



I started with the simple green salad. Not much simple about it! Lightly dressed spring mix, cheese, and toasted pumpkin seeds.



My husband started with a cup of tomato soup.



I had a monster tomato sandwich. It was incredible. But it required a knife and fork.


Human # 1 had a cuban sandwich. Which he loved.



I had some coffee. Very good coffee, made my favorite way (in a French press).



This is my husband being beautiful. He is pointing at his pure, unadulterated beauty. He is also reminding me that the tomatoes are not quite as beautiful as he is. Though I still can't get him to shave on a vacation.