Ah, turkey. Bless it. There are many ways to go right and many ways to go so, so wrong. Miss Dish asks you to take notes and check the recesses of your mind for hysterically funny yet sobering tales of holiday mishaps. Bring on your latkes-that-set-the-house-on-fire stories, your rancid-milk-for-Santa tales, your sneaking-food-during-Ramadan admissions. Send them to firstname.lastname@example.org, and if they strike Miss D.'s fancy (and, more importantly, offer substantial filler copy for the early holiday Dish desk deadlines), you may find yourself on the receiving end of a prize that most likely will be better than one-third of the gifts you get this season.
Now, on to the latest.
La Patisserie (208 NW Couch St.) was an Olde Towne staple before, during and just beyond what the people watching the kids called the "grunge" years. Then, suddenly, this upstairs space most notable for its resplendent woody interior (like being in a treehouse!) and scarfable breakfast was abandoned. Fear not, all ye yearners for pre-millennial Portland: This spot is ready to rock again. Locals Karen Moore and executive chef Diana Stapleton are opening what they've dubbed Second Story Bistro. Moore, who has worked as a personal chef and caterer, and Stapleton, who was the chef at Sammy's on Northwest 23rd Avenue, hope to have the place open for breakfast and lunch by early January. Moore calls the cuisine "French bistro fare with Northwest ingredients" and says their specialty will be a variety of French-style omelettes. This is her first restaurant, and while Moore says it's "a little scary," she's comforted by the fact that, despite the obvious signs that the place is not open for business, "I turn people away every day who think we're open." Call them at 827-5113.
Buy and drive! Rena Yatch, the wine mistress of 750 ml (232 NW 12th Ave., 224-1432), is offering an antidote to the lean parking scene in the Pearl. If you call ahead to place and pay for an order during the December gift stampede, you can drive up to the front of the shop and honk your horn, and your bottles will be brought out to you. No stress, no mess. Just don't open one on the way home.