Feast, the city's fanciest schmanciest food fest, has come and gone. There were some familiar national faces—food critic Ruth Reichl and more Top Chef alumni than you can shake your tongs at—and every Oregon chef worth his/her coat.

l'm fairly certain that to try and attend every major event is like signing a death warrant for one's liver, so I will readily admit that I lopped off the Sandwich Invitational on Thursday and the new Brunch Village on Sunday morning.

The festival, sponsored by Bon Appétit, has a high bar of managing both high prices and high expectations, versus the throngs of people who want in—even when the cheapest main event, the Oregon Grand Bounty, is still $60.

It's mostly successful.

More after the jump!

I hit the Grand Bounty on Friday during the day and never felt cramped or that any wait was absurd. The only problem? The pigeons, one of which practically roosted in the curls of a lady nearby:

But this was the best place to try the most Oregon and Washington wines, as well as gather the greatest variety of bites.

Later Friday was the Night Market. I've been once before, when it was held at the Ecotrust building. This year, it was moved out to the South Waterfront, and the sold out $125 event was one long line. I arrived about a half hour into the event, and sampled maybe four or five of the total dishes. Loved the beef tongue offering from Smallwares (duh) but after waiting 20 minutes to get it, I kinda freaked out and ate it.

Instead, here's the pretty tasty rabbit from Ataula.

Saturday's High Comfort, the $175-a-head fancy feast at The Nines was also problematic, but not as overwhelming as the Night Market. Lines were (more) manageable, bites were decadent, wines were reserve vintages. Now if only they had turned on the damn air conditioning. Kristen Murray of Maurice did a lovely tomato pain perdue with anise, and Naomi Pomeroy did an Oregon Dungeness crab crepe. There was a Hama Hama oyster station right next to the champagne table. Smart.

The longest line belonged to the best dish too, Vitaly Paley knocked the high comfort theme out of the park with succulently fried chicken paired with a watermelon cube with fennel and basil. Paley himself applied hot sauce ("hot or hotter?") from eye droppers. His was also one of the only booths to keep serving till the very end. ("Vitaly Paley never runs out," he said to a friend).

Feast is undoubtedly a big industry back rub, full of glad-handing and chef-y schmoozing. But, to paraphrase the great Ferris Bueller, if you've got the means, I highly recommend picking a ticket up, if to just say you've been there and done that.