Foodlore Library

I'm walking through the rainy streets of downtown Portland in search of an Irish pub.

First Stop

7 O'Clock At Biddy McGraws
6000 NE Glisan, Portland
www.biddymcgraws.com

Is it a pint of Guinness I’m after? Nope — I don't imbibe. As a food writer, I've sat at many tables with friends and other writers, tables that are bedecked with rich, heady liquors: drinks which I admit, are strangers to me. I never drink. I'm a devout Mormon, a member of a faith who encourages its people to abstain from alcohol. So, as always, I'm pub hopping stone cold sober.

This fall, my roommate and I decided to harvest prickly pear fruit and make syrup. October is one of the best times to hike in the desert. It's cooler out and the trees in the valley are a kaleidoscope of fall colors.

Here's the location of the pricky pears we collected.

Here's one of the fruits I plucked from the cacti.

I come from a long line of cookbook collectors. My mother hordes collections of recipes for vegan casseroles and impossibly complex bread recipes, while I prefer tomes filled with creative soups and classic Italian sauces. My grandmother, however, takes collecting to a whole new level. Reorganizing her bookshelves not long ago, I discovered no less than six editions of The Joy of Cooking, most of them with cracked bindings and food-splattered pages, evidence of years of good use in her steamy, yellow-walled kitchen.