I'm standing in a massive warehouse, contemplating what to do with the outstretched, flour-filled palm of Bob Moore, patriarch of Bob's Red Mill in Milwaukie, Oregon.
An 80-year-old behind one of the largest whole grain companies in North America, Moore's strength and determination have clearly not been tempered by time. This bright morning, as we're still digesting the breakfast muesli from his nearby restaurant, he is determined to show me every nook and cranny of his 30 379 square metre warehouse. That means every stone mill, every bag of cornflour and a personal introduction to most of his 190 staff members.
"The last writer I had stayed for five hours," he says, warning that I'm in for the long haul. As he stretches his hand out to me repeatedly over the next 90 minutes, I find that the only response that seems to satisfy him is a taste.
Caution: if you find yourself confronted with Moore's flour-filled hand, do not, under any circumstances, try to sample its contents. With the taste and texture of dust, raw flour - especially rice, corn and soy flour, is not tasty. Trust me - I learnt by default.
Moore started his stone mill after reading a book on the subject. "The author didn't know anything when he began, and I thought to myself, if he can do it, so can I," Moore says. Moore was 60 at the time and had just retired in Oregon to attend ministry school and learn to read the Bible - in Greek.
When that was done, he was ripe for another challenge, and a stone mill to grind the wholegrain flours his wife had long cooked for the family seemed an appropriate next step. Today his products are available in grocery and organic speciality stores throughout Canada and the US.
I'm on a tour of some of Oregon's green sites and, given the movement towards organic, healthy eating, the flour-strewn aisles of Bob's Red Mill store seemed as good a place as any to begin. But my first introduction to the green-ness of the Portland environs was in an unlikely place: the airport toilet.
I'd just landed in the city and was locked in a cubicle when I noticed that, unlike any other washroom in the 50-something airports I've visited in my lifetime, this one had dual-flush toilets.
It was an eco-friendly welcome to a city that has come to personify what it means to be green today. Portlanders take sustainability seriously and many refuse to compromise on their principles even in bad weather.
As the door of her car opens with an objectionable squeak, Veronique Meunier, the city's sustainable tourism PR person, says the vehicle will soon be up for sale. "It just never gets used."
Meunier is one of a veritable tribe of urban bikers who brave the worst weather conditions to pedal to work each day. What happens when it rains?
"We get a bit wet - but that's okay because most workplaces are equipped with hot showers and lockers, so bikers can dry off and clean up."
With an overwhelming number of developers who have led the way in Leadership in Energy & Environmental Design (LEED)-certified buildings, and a plethora of chefs committed to using organic, local ingredients, Portland is the environmentally friendly traveller's answer to an eco-conscious journey.
Within hours of touchdown I'm conversing with one of those chefs, a big-biceped man with the unlikely name of Leather Storrs, on the rooftop of his restaurant, Rocket. Here he grows lettuce, herbs, edible flowers, tomatoes, peas, beans and other veggies. "I love using my own produce," he says.
Downstairs, as we sit among the young and trendy who haunt his loft-style, contemporary restaurant, Storrs' food lingers on the tongue with the sensuousness of his flavourful herbs and the rocket lettuce for which his eatery is named.
We'd chosen a car-less weekend in Portland, a decision for which the Hotel Monaco rewarded us with free use of its bicycles. Taking to the streets on a sunny Saturday morning, it doesn't take us long to find the scene of culinary action at the Portland Farmers' Market.
This cacophony of colour and aroma is enough to lift the spirits even before the morning's coffee has kicked in. Women in summer dresses walk through the grass with straw baskets as they get farm-fresh ingredients for the week's meals. Vendors sell fat slices of pizza bursting with pesto while others offer hot oatmeal with organic berries and creamy Indian dhal.
Raspberries, blueberries and blackberries lie in perfect shades of ripeness while freshly picked flowers spray the scene with cheer. It's a farmers' market as such markets are supposed to be: offering a purity of product that makes it a simple pleasure to part with your money.
At dusk we stroll around the Pearl District, an old industrial warehousing area that has been reincarnated into an urban zone with hip stores, cosy restaurants, yoga studios and art galleries. The famous, independent Powell's City of Books offers hours of browsing heaven.
We window-shop through kitchen boutiques, play table tennis in a clothing store called Lizard and dine on organic seaweed salad and pineapple celery beverages at the Blossoming Lotus restaurant.
In 2001 the Pearl District welcomed the first historically renovated building in the US to be LEED-certified, the Jean Vollum Natural Capital Centre. Today, as condominiums rise to accommodate the growing number of Portlanders who choose to live in this urban hub, few developers would dare to go without LEED certification. It's simply become an expected way of how business in Portland is done.
We catch another glimpse of sustainable business a day later, visiting The ReBuilding Centre in the Northeast Mississippi neighbourhood. Established in 1998, the centre's goal is to salvage reusable home building and decorating materials from those who no longer need them with the motto "just because they're called landfills doesn't mean we have to fill them!"
Today the centre diverts 10 000 tons of material from Oregon's landfills daily, material that designers, artists, builders and homeowners use to redecorate or renovate their homes at minimal cost. Funds accumulated from their sale are invested in the funky, historic neighbourhood around the centre, one where cosy coffeehouses nudge one-of-a-kind boutiques and large portraits of local residents are displayed on exterior walls.
It is inspiring to see how Oregonians have embraced eco-consciousness and incorporated it into their lives. Later that day we are picked up by EcoShuttle, a Portland-based shuttle and touring service that uses biodiesel for its vehicles, powering them with a mixture of chicken fat and vegetable oil waste.
Our destination is a handful of wineries in the Willamette Valley, the most impressive of which is Sokol Blosser in Dundee. The winery uses organic grapes and follows sustainable farming practices.
Not far away in Beaverton, Cooper Mountain Vineyard sits on the peak of a now-extinct volcano, farming organically and biodynamically. According to French winemaker Gilles De Domingo that means the avoidance of man-made chemicals and the use of natural preparations like beneficial cover crops and insects to provide ideal grape growing conditions. "The end result in the bottle is wine that truly represents its roots," he explains.
A taste of Cooper Mountain's pinot blanc is enough to convince me that this team is on to something. Before I leave, De Domingo implores me: "Don't call it sustainable. The word has entirely lost its meaning."
Whatever name you choose - be it eco-consciousness, environmental friendliness or purely green - this is a movement with a clear impetus in Portland and the towns that surround it. Visit this verdant spot and you can't help but agree, it feels good to go green.
If you go
- The Whole Grain Store & Visitors Centre at Bob's Red Mill is open from 6am to 6pm from Monday to Friday and from 7am to 5pm on Saturdays.
- Hotel Monaco offers a carless holiday package designed to minimise the carbon footprint guests leave in Portland. Starting at $249 (R2 284), the package includes transit ticket reimbursements, bike rental for two and a seasonal picnic lunch.