Tragedy Strikes Hillsboro - Say It Ain't So!!

We've lost a dear friend . . . we may need grief counseling to work through this tremendous loss. I'll never forget where I was when I heard the tragic news. At Joann's standing in the Valentine aisle, encircled by hearts and happy, lovey dovey stuff. Kind of ironic. My cell phone rang, Tina had bad news. Someone standing nearby listening to my end of the conversation might have thought that a loved one had just passed away . . .

January 8, 2009 was a sad day for Hillsboro or at least for our family as well as many of the other "regulars" at Costa Vida. It was the day that I received the devastating news that our favorite restaurant, nay, our family's home away from home is closing indefinitely. If only there was something we could do - win the lottery, call out from the rooftops that our dear restaurant needed patrons from far and near. I wish the owner would have filled us in on his financial situation. (o: We could have helped market the best sweet pork this side of Utah! I would have stood on corners with a sign - I would have dressed up like a sweet pork salad (although I may have been kidnapped). Oh, the would have's. But by the time we got the news it was too late. The only thing we could do is join the hundreds of other regular clientele and stand with pitiful expressions on our faces in the line that rivaled Disneyland ride lines (45 minute wait to place an order) and recall the many memories we had at this establishment and our sadness at seeing it go. We mourned with the many friends we already knew and the friends we stood in line with and said things like, "We would have come more if we knew... oh wait, I guess coming more than once a week is a little much." and "Where are we going to get sweet pork?" and "It wasn't just the food, it was the laid back and fun feeling of Costa Vida" and "The only good thing I can think of is that I might lose this." (a man said as he patted his belly) "Yeah," I said in reply, "But I'd rather be fat and have my Costa Vida."
The girls were disappointed too and were so amazingly well behaved as we stood in line to order our food. It felt more like we were there to pay our respects, like everyone else. One more time to smile and greet the friendly employees. Honestly, I didn't know their names and they didn't know ours, but we knew each other. I almost asked to take their pictures, but they were in such a hurry. (And I worried they might think that was a little too weird.) I will always remember those smiling faces that asked so kindly, "Black beans or pinto?" They will be etched in my memory forever. Last night was their final night serving dinner, but today they were open for one more lunch. I thought of an excuse to go to Fred Meyer and drove by one more time at 2:00 p.m. I saw the "open" sign and just had to go in one last time. It was much quieter - I walked right up to the counter and ordered a flan and queso and chips. There was one man behind me, but I think I was one of the last people to place an order. I am keeping my receipt for my scrapbook. (o: The feeling inside was a little mixed - kind of somber and sad, but also a feeling of gratitude. We felt grateful for everything that Costa Vida represented - yummy food, a great place to hang out and really, really nice people. And the owner and all his employees seemed touched at how many people showed up for one last meal and told him how much the place meant to them.

It will be hard to move on. Hanging out at Baja Fresh or Chevy's will never be on our agenda, although we like the food there fine. And to all those locals, don't even think of "On the Border" it's decorated all cute, but the food is awful. Sigh. I guess I will have to actually cook more at home. Blah. (o;

Above: Sniff, sniff - the surfboard-looking sign welcoming us to tell the employees which delicious menu item we felt like eating that night. My last order was a sweet pork salad with cilantro lime dressing - my personal favorite. Oh, and blue Powerade with the yummy, crunchy ice. I took a picture of it below.
I told the nice lady during my last visit today (I'll call her Mary), that the thing I loved best about Costa Vida is it was kind of like the bar in "Cheers" for Hillsboro. (o: Mary laughed and had to agree (even though neither of us actually knew each others' name like they sing in the opening song). The employees knew us when we walked in, even sometimes knew what we would order, and we always ran into someone we knew there. I'm sure if they would have stayed in business just a little longer we would have reached "Norm!" status. Hillsboro will never be the same without our Costa Vida.

Will these be in heaven? In my personal heaven, the whole Costa Vida - including the employees will be there. But wait, maybe we'll all have to take turns cooking, because it wouldn't be fair for the employees to be stuck working all the time in heaven. (o:

Just a little tidbit that some people might not know. Costa Vida was owned by a nice Mormon couple, the Cochrans, from Utah. And when you are a Mormon in Oregon, everyone who is LDS is only 3 degrees away from Steve Young. (o: (You know the 7 degrees from Kevin Bacon theory?) In other words, if we don't know each other, we know someone who knows them or at the very least we know someone who knows someone who knows them. Even the Cochrans were two degrees away from us. I heard from my cousin years ago that they were leaving Logan and coming here to start a new Mexican restaurant. Anyway, that is one of the reasons why we always knew someone who was there - all those Mormons! (o:

As I have told several people while I've mourned the last two days . . . (I'm taking it pretty hard as you can tell.) My life is pretty darn good if the hardest thing I am going through right now is the loss of my beloved Costa Vida restaurant. So I'll be grateful for that!