Portland is a foodie’s paradise. No secret here. And with a prime location close to the coast, wine country, and mountains, localvores can rejoice at a bevy of tasty local treats, even in the dead of winter. After all, we need something to eat with all that coffee.

Lovejoy Bakers: In the heart of Northwest (and all the yuppifying condo construction that’s been going on), a new bakery cafe has sprouted up. Service was a touch frosty, but is quickly forgiven—this is a place that takes bread seriously. The stuff on the bread has to match up. The Lovejoy Deluxe is a light and fluffy ciabatta roll packed with blue cheese, bacon, egg, frisee lettuce, and a touch of balsamic vinegar. It’s a somewhat off kilter taste: at once decidely sloppy breakfast (eggs, bacon), and a crunchy lunchtime treat (blue cheese, balsamic vinegar, lettuce). It’s wonderfully filling, the kind of sandwich that you keep eating as much to feed your appetite as because it piques your interest. As you munch, enjoy contemplating a snack (or two) from the playful wall of samples. 939 NW 10th Avenue lovejoybakers.com

The Lovejoy Deluxe is a sandwich to be reckoned with.

Samples! On Spoons! Betcha can’t eat just one.

Por que no: Up in Northeast Mississippi, in a tiny storefront, is a quaint cave of Mexican grub. It meets all my criteria for dining: it’s cheap, it’s tasty, it’s made of real food. Por que no is a bit off the beaten path, but folks from all over the city were pressed in to the 20 seat eatery when my friend Jennie and I stopped in. Unfussy, quirky, if not unpretentious, the low ceilings feel ready to fall down with all the bric-a-brac they’ve stuffed on to the walls. Sure, living in Chicago, I’ve had more authentically Mexican food—and one could argue that with Akon blaring on the speakers and fruity drinks on offer, this is Mexican for white people. More aptly, it’s accessible, fresh, and tasty, and for that I left stuffed, happy, and my wallet, only $7 lighter. 3524 N. Mississippi. porquenotacos.com

Serious fixin’s: Plenty of ways to deck out your taco.

Voodoo Doughnuts: Nevermind the fact they spell ‘donut’ funny. Everything about Voodoo is a bit theatre of the absurd, bit college humor, and a heavy dose of irony in the form of ugly looking donuts. There, I said it. These aren’t donuts that you look at and go, “Damn, I really want a cake donut covered in Fruit Loops” or “Shucks, that Bacon-wrapped Maple Log is going to spoil dinner!” But, likely, I, and the 30 minute line we were slogging through hadn’t heard of Voodoo because of Fruit Loops. No, their fame was more likely assured upon creating the cock ‘n balls doughnut. Yes, you heard me. (Allison Weiss and Lauren Zettler made a video devouring the dessert dong during their Pacific Northwest tour last Spring). A few observations, having now consumed my first chocolate-frosted phallus:

1. Who said this was life size? Cue the penis envy.
2. The white Boston Creme filling is both a wonderful counterbalance to the fried dough, however disgustingly dirty you feel slopping it off your bottom lip.
3. The balls are tastier than the, eh, um, shaft.

After waiting in line for twenty minutes, my friend and I smelled like donut. And if the stink of fried dough on your sweater isn’t enough to make you queasy, the folks at Voodoo will sell you a bucket, a heaping bucket, of day old doughnuts for $5. I’m thinking this would be great for parties and entertaining, but the folks rifling through buckets in the shop didn’t seem quite as socially inclined. It’s fun, but there’s a huge kitsch-tourism element here. Something to cross off my list? Two locations, but less crowded at 1501 NE Davis. voodoodoughnut.com

A Bucket of Day Olds, $5. The fat ass that follows is included at no additional cost.

Some of the offerings: Yes the donut penis does say “EAT MEAT”.