Portland, Oregon: wine country, cuisine capital Comfort, company, setting, cuisine... the Steamboat Inn offers all the hungry outdoorsman could ask. But the missing mod cons - TV, internet - make me glad I came upon it at the end of my trip, when my body clock had adjusted to allow a full night's sleep, undisturbed by the buzz of midges trying to break through the window net. The tour began at Portland, birthplace of Nike and focus of America's right-on, farm-to-fork, salmon-friendly capitalism. At the confluence of the Willamette and Columbia rivers , the city is set back from the Pacific in Oregon's land of plenty, a green corridor of prodigious fertility between coastal rainforest and the semi-desert. Portlanders do more cycling and running than any other US city and, not content just to exercise themselves, keep their senses in trim and their palates in a state of high arousal by analysing and appraising everything that passes their lips. All must be good, and do good. No chance to enjoy a straightforward cappuccino at the Stumptown Coffee Roasters , whose founder Duane Sorenson set Portland on the road to its "coffee revolution" in 1999. Are you in the mood for Guatemala Finca" s beans, with notes of chocolate, lime, melon and cognac, or Ethiopia Mordecofe , with hints of mint-chip ice cream , apple, ginger and fig, and an Assam tea finish ? Stumpton Coffee Roasters. Image: John Valls Choose your poison and it comes with an essay about provenance, terroir and sustainability, and a blank card for tasting notes. Stumptown beans have the Direct Trade label, which is like Fairtrade, only fairer; so you can rest assured that your caffeine hit is helping more than your hangover. Sorenson's empire now spans the nation, from Seattle to Brooklyn. "Coffee still tastes good, though," says the man on the stool next to mine. Nor will it advance your cause at a pub like Deschutes , leading light of Portland's 50 micro-breweries, to ask for a pint of the local draught. The waiter hands over a list of award-winning brews running to several pages. If in doubt, go for a "classic six" sample tray served in 4oz glasses for comparison purposes, with beer snacks that include steamed fava beans with black truffle sea salt. Deschutes microbrewery. Portland's speciality is its vibrant street food scene, whereby those without an office desk take lunch in the street, sitting on doorsteps, squatting mid-pavement or just standing around eating with their fingers out of boxes delivered by one-man-band restaurant wagons known as food carts. Nothing strange in that, you might think: our teenage children spend their Saturdays consuming street food. The difference is, these titbits are real food: fresh local ingredients, cooked to order, inexpensive and good. There are more than 500 carts, no two the same, in colourful corrals filling downtown parking lots. Think of a niche food item and a catchy name, paint your wagon, find a parking space and you're away. "It's not a quick way to make a fortune," says local gastro-tour guide Brett Burmeister , "but it's a job." Coining terms like beervana, brewtopia and cartopia for his home town, Brett has turned his food blog into a job, and has become an influential critic, making and breaking food-cart hopefuls through his reviews and guided tours. "Throw a stone in Portland and you'll hit a food cart," he says. If you don't hit a coffee roaster or a micro-brewer, that is - or a cyclist. Portland's Eurotrash food cart. There are Polish carts, Cuban carts, Indian carts, carts from the most unlikely exporters of gastronomy. Alaskan reindeer sits next to Czech schnitzels. Brett recommends The Frying Scotsman from Glasgow for the best fish and chips, Gaufre Gourmet "s Belgian waffles for an unrivalled crunch factor. Charlie of Euro Trash is known for his "fishy chips" - deep-fried anchovies with lemon and aioli. "No one else is doing it, and he works hard to keep his oil fresh," says Brett, devouring an anchovy with relish. Don't local restaurants have something to say about the competition? "We haven't seen any new fast-food outlets in a while," says Brett, "and Burger King closed." "Hooray!" shout my companions, a family group that has come all the way from Paris, Texas, for a taste of Portland's food culture, and can't quite believe it. "But I never eat fried!" someone squeals, excited by the naughtiness of it all. A square once known as Crack Park has become a genteel picnic area. Portland's story is one of urban regeneration by food cart, pub and cycle lane. After a satisfying five-cart lunch, the obvious afternoon activity is a bike ride along the banks of the Willamette, wheels loaned free by the Monaco , the most elegant of Portland's downtown boutique hotels (voluntary donations to Bicycles for Humanity are appreciated). That revives the appetite for dinner at Riffle , a new "catch-inspired " seafood restaurant in the regenerated Pearl District . Oysters are on the specials board and that sounds good to me. "Kumamotos or Barron Points?" waiter Nathaniel wants to know. Do you like a cucumber finish or an oyster with more grit? It goes without saying that Portland does not spend the weekend slobbed out in front of the television with a mountain of nachos and beer. The thing is to cycle - or, if you insist, drive - up the Willamette river and into the Dundee Hills for vineyard visits and tastings of Oregon's finest pinot noir. If I had a sip for every time I was told the story of the Oregonian who took his pinot noir to a blind tasting Olympiad in Burgundy and beat the best Cortons and Chambertins, I would be way over the limit. Wine country: the Dundee Hills. Oregon had a wine industry before Prohibition but it took refugees from California to revive it, beginning in the late 1960s. The more determined pioneers made a success of it and a few are still there to tell their story. Ken and Penny Durant moved to Oregon 40 years ago. "We wanted our children to grow up on a farm and know how to work," says Ken, who is of an age to step back and let his son take the reins. We started with 60 acres of fruit, walnuts and hazelnuts, and one acre of vineyard as an experiment. Pinot noir needs 22 hundred-degree days to ripen at the end of the growing season, and on the sunniest slopes we can achieve that. It does rain here from October to June, but we usually have three months of heat. "We're farmers, not winemakers," says Ken, but he keeps a close eye on the wine that bears the Durant label, encouraging his bottlers to make a delicate, feminine wine, light in colour and true to its Burgundian origins. Paul Durant describes his father as a "project man," and his last project was the planting of the Willamette's first olive grove. Visitors to the estate shop can try all the oils - preferably without bread, which is a distraction. Winemaking is an all-consuming passion. "That's my husband on his tractor in the vineyard," says Karen Utz , who has built her dream b&b, the Black Walnut Inn near Dundee, in the style of a palatial Medici villa, only to lose her husband in what started as a hobby vineyard. "Only ask questions if you really want to know the answer," warns Allison Anderson , before summoning her husband Cliff from his labours in the Anderson Family Vineyard (visits by appointment) in Newberg . Give Cliff any encouragement and off he goes, unstoppably, explaining the finer points of Burgundian cooperage and his Pommard vine clones. Biodynamism? Don't get me started on that! Well, all right, do..." (He's against it.) Larger wineries are more geared up for visitors, with tour guides ("educators") rattling off their spiel. Rex Hill is one of these and greets the visitor with a circle of wine glasses containing things we may be expected to identify in wine: a raspberry, a cherry, a clove, a lychee. While waiting for your tour, close your eyes, and see how you do. "Any questions?" says my educator. Yes: is there a chemical explanation for all these scents in wine? "Yes," she says emphatically, in a tone that brooks no further question on this subject. It is a similar story in the South Willamette Valley. The college town of Eugene buys its organic produce from the Saturday farmers" market and takes it out into the hills for a winery picnic. A party atmosphere prevails at Sweet Cheeks Winery, with live music on the terrace and a gathering that looks like a bridal shower. Unlike most other wineries, it offers free tastings and serves no food. Bring your own, relax, imbibe and enjoy. This does raise the drink-drive question. The wineries can supply spit bowls, but no one seems to use them or to ask for them. Oregon is a big state - larger than Britain - and the variation of climate is extreme and easily grasped: dry in the east, and hot in the south, where cabernets and other grapes typical of California can flourish. The Rogue and Applegate Valleys are emerging as big producers. On the outskirts of Medford, three close neighbours go together like the acts of a well-structured play. First stop: the Rogue Creamery , whose blue cheeses have won as many international prizes as the Willamette's pinot noir. "Sometimes we beat Stilton and Roquefort, sometimes they beat us," says Rogue's chief cheese-maker Craig Nelson , who will talk you through his blues for as long as you've got. Oregonzola and Crater Lake Blue are easy eating, Flora Nelle is Rogue's flagship prize-winner. Brutal Blue is for those who like cheese with a kick. Blue cheese from the Rogue Creamery. It is a truth universally acknowledged that a prize-winning cheese is in want of a wine, and Rogue's neighbour, Ledger David Wines , can oblige. Owners Lena and David present a tray of Rogue cheeses with a selection of their wines. "Tasting is more interesting down here in the south," says Lena Varner . It's not pinot, pinot, pinot. After serving a sangiovese rosé with a Rogue cheddar, they suggest an ice-wine sauvignon blanc or a tempranillo port for the all-conquering Flora Nelle. The gastro tour reaches an excited climax in the house of artisan chocolatier Jeff Shepherd of Lillie Belle Farms , who comes on so strong in his choco-vangelism, it's a wonder he doesn't have his own TV channel. "I just can't stop making chocolate!" he yells, stirring his rich, dark brown pot. Smell this - pure Venezuela! Great beans! Make sure you have a cool bag, if you have the will power to leave a few of Jeff's creations for later. The air conditioning will help only as long as you keep driving. On a hundred-degree day, Crater Lake beckons. Isolated volcanic cones are a feature of Oregon mountains, and this is one that blew its top, leaving a perfectly round blue lake, 1,500ft below the crater rim. A 30-mile road runs full circle around the top, with winter ski trails, snowbanks that last all summer, rocky belvederes and giddy views for the album. I am tempted by the Cleetwood Cove Trail , the only place where access to the lake is permitted, by a zigzag footpath, rated strenuous. "One mile down, 10 miles back up," as the saying goes. It would be fun to scramble down and dip a toe in the icy water, but I have been warned about the deadline for dinner at the Steamboat Inn. Jim and Sharon Van Loan must not be kept waiting. Abercrombie & Kent is offering a seven-night trip to Oregon, similar to the above, from £2,395 per person, based on two people sharing. The price includes b&b accommodation, economy flights from London with Air New Zealand and car hire. Image: Oregon Tourist Board