Cassidy’s (American/Northwest)
March 3, 2010
Restaurant website
Location: I5 and Burnside, near the Crystal Ballroom
Price to stuff two: About $40
I pulled into the space, shut off the engine and a woman came flying up to the car. “You didn’t have to phone, I’m right here!” she scolded.
I peered through the open door–she sure wasn’t my dinner companion. “Uhm…may I help you?”
She stopped and turned beet red. ”Wait a minute–you’re not my friend! This is so embarrassing–you look like my friend and she drives the same kind of car…I’m sorry…”
“No problem,” I said, and went on into Cassidy’s, a restaurant that appears to have been a PDX fixture for maybe centuries (actually, since 1979). My friend Lyn waitressed there in college, had a hankering to see what the old place was up to and so we met at this old saloon-style restaurant for dinner.
I honestly didn’t expect much–these places usually serve barfood, so I resigned myself to indifferent burgers and chilifries or somesuch–but Cassidy’s surprised me with a really nice menu, almost budget-minded. They also offered small plates and large in a kind of northwest-tapas-chic-meets-a-lumberjack kinda way.
The menu emphasizes seafood and greens, and does them pretty well. We also tried the handcut fries with smoked pecorino and rosemary salt (well, we were in a saloon, for heaven’s sake, how can you NOT have something with potatoes?), then split off into small plates.
I had a really fabulous salad composee of grilled romaine spears with pickled egg, followed by shrimp in a sweet-hot sauce on lemon couscous. Lyn did crispy rock shrimp and calamari, after an arugula/pancetta salad.
Both were excellent and just exactly the right amount of food. The waiter was attentive, the owner came over to chat with Lyn about good old times when she worked there, and it just felt nice, like home.
So I’m not entirely sure why the restaurant was pretty much empty on a Friday night. Maybe it’s the parking; there was absolutely no street parking available so I wound up paying $5 in a parking lot. Or maybe it’s the location; the hotel next door seems to specialize in down-and-outers in what used to be known euphemistically as a “men’s hotel,” and they’re not shy about panhandling the customers.
Or maybe it’s the decor, which is tired and gloomy and not incredibly well lit. Whatever the problem, people should get over it–once you get inside this is a nice little dinner place and one I’ll go back to.
Chez Joly (French)
December 26, 2009
- Restaurant website
- Location: Pearl District
- Price to feed two (well) for dinner: About $40 (booze extra)
“Don’t you usually have a PRAAAAY FIX-AAAAAY?” I asked the waiter.
He looked puzzled for a minute, then asked, “Do you mean “prix fixe?” he asked, “Yes we do,” and he showed me the prix fixe menu ($20 per person for salad or soup, entree and dessert) while I blushed a bit.
OK, in most places in the US (outside New York and DC), if you ask for the “prix fixe menu,” you’ll just confuse them. “Prefix to what? Do you mean an appetizer?” they’ll ask, with a little eye roll. If you mispronounce it with long aaaaaaas, they just might get it.
Except in Chez Joly, which is the closest thing to a real French bistro I’ve seen in the great Northwest. [Read more]
Eleni’s Philoxenia (Greek)
December 24, 2009
- Restaurant website
- Location: Pearl District
- Price to dinnerize two people: About $50, booze extra
I parked the car about a block away from Eleni’s (I was meeting Sara there for dinner), got out and tripped over about a dozen tipsy Santas coming from a rally in the park. I looked around and saw HUNDREDS of Santas, dressed in everything from fur-trimmed red Lurex catsuits to the pillow-bellied real deal.
What in the world? As I pondered, a lady Santa ran full-tilt into me, grabbed me by the shoulders and kissed me right on the mouth. “MISTLETOE!!!!” she hollered, and handed me a tiny candy cane before running to her next victim.
Dalo’s Kitchen (Ethiopian)
July 28, 2009
Restaurant website
Location: Northeast Portland
Price to totally stuff three people: About $40
Rely on Gigi-the-iPhone, Google Maps or Mapquest–or the address–and you will NEVER find Dalo’s Kitchen. It’s listed as being on Vancouver; it’s actually on Williams just before Skidmore. If there are cars parked in front of the ferociously pink-striped cinderblock building you’ll miss the small Dalos signboard placed AFTER the restaurant.
But keep trying, because Dalo’s Kitchen is definitely worth a visit. [Read more]
Did she bake a cherry pie, Billy boy, Billy boy?
July 19, 2009
Technically, no. But the pie she did make is delicious. Yum.
Robyn and Jeff and I met up at the Portland Farmers Market Saturday (I think I’m addicted to that place), did some breakfast, strolled the booths and stocked up on berries. (It’s nice to have a muscular cousin who can carry berry flats three blocks to your car, right in the middle of your shopping trip, so that you can keep shopping)
We were about to head for home when I saw a box of small, curiously translucent cherries. Regular bing cherries are a rich, opaque burgundy; these were unabashedly scarlet and glowed in the sunlight:
Montmorencies. Pie cherries.
Montmorencies are too sour for most people, but for me they’re the true cherry flavor, and they’re hard to find. These were fresh, heavy with juice and bore about as much resemblance to the stuff you find in a can of cherry pie filling as fresh chevre does to Velveeta. And I had a cherry pitter at home that hasn’t been used in about seven years…
Obviously, there was only one thing to do: Make fresh cherry pie.
50Plates
July 1, 2009
Restaurant website- Location: Pearl District
- Price to dinnerize two people: About $75 with tip
First thing I thought when I opened the 50Plates menu: “Whoa! These guys have figured out how to charge $10.50 for a bowl of chili.” Second thought: “It better be bloody good chili.”
I didn’t taste it, so I can’t say. I can say that the other food’s pretty good and the prices aren’t. And that this is a restaurant that needs to make up its mind: Is it a kitschy Americana diner, a trendy Pearl District eatery with a twist (i.e., the tapas are American), a down-home Southern kitchen, or….?
The concrete, stainless steel and chunky marble tile (Ann Sacks, unless I miss my guess) fit right into the Pearl District ethos, as do the cheap cafe tables set on the loading dock for those of us who want to eat outside. The waitstaff is attentive, service is fast and there’s an inventive (and expensive) drinks and wine menu.
The music is a little too retro for my tastes, mostly early 70s popcharts stuff. The menu talks about the concept of surveying great American foods, but unless you read 50Plate’s lengthy online rationales about why particular diner foods made it onto the menu, it’s hard to find the rhyme or reason to it. 50Plates just seems a bit too self-conscious to really be fun.
Still, Robyn and I gave it a shot tonight. I ordered a hot sandwich that closely resembled a Miami Cubano. Robyn got the BBQ brisket, $19.50.
The brisket arrived with mashed sweet potatoes, drowning in a molasses BBQ sauce. Both were pretty tasty, although the brisket had a bit more fat than strictly necessary.
$10 or so didn’t buy a huge sandwich, nor was it as pressed flat as the Miami version, but it was good. Despite the “concept,” I wouldn’t call it diner food, especially since it came a la carte–no potato salad, no tossed salad, no bag of chips, nuthin’ but a dill pickle. It looked kinda lonely, there on a big white plate. I added the “chopped salad,” at $6.50, and it was very good.
We ordered dessert to celebrate Robyn’s anniversary: Rhubarb crisp and Key Lime pie. Both were good. The Archies played “Sugar, Sugar” in the background, and a couple got up and danced while we toyed with our sweets. The after-dinner decafs came with a tiny pitcher of cream, shaped like a cow. Robyn and I both drink our coffees white, so the waitress eventually brought out the BIG cow of cream. That was more like it.
You know, I once ordered a room service hamburger at the Marriott Marquis in Manhattan, and nearly fainted when I got the $35 check. Fortunately, I’m now made of sterner stuff, so I didn’t turn a hair when the check arrived. But I couldn’t help thinking that a real diner would have served a similar meal for half the price and a quarter of the pretense.
Chennai Masala
May 6, 2009
- Restaurant website
- Area: Hillsboro/tech corridor (across from the “Streets of Tanasborne” shopping center)
- Price to stuff two people for dinner, with leftovers: About $30
Many glasslanders feel that the best Indian restaurants are out in Hillsboro, close to Intel and the tech corridor which employs a substantial number of subcontinentals. That’s where Chennai Masala, i.e., “a taste of Chennai,” lives, and so far it’s probably the best Indian restaurant I’ve tried in this area.
Bay Leaf (Chinese vegetarian)
April 13, 2009
- Restaurant website
- Location: Hawthorne district (roughly)
- Price for dinner for two: About $28
Here’s the thing about vegetarian restaurants: They’re either exquisite, or they forcibly remind us why grass clippings belong in lawn mowers.
Bay Leaf edges a wee bit closer to the latter than the former, and that’s a shame, because it’s also one of the prettiest Chinese restaurants I’ve encountered in a long time. The surroundings are tasteful and immaculate, the people are friendly, the teas are diverse and tasty (although Typhoon beats them on variety) and the food is wonderfully presented.
But Bay Leaf’s offerings were a feast for the eyes, not the stomach: Most dishes were far too bland. Robyn and I started with an order of lettuce wraps, one of my favorite can’t-go-wrongs. It looked lovely, but pretty much tasted like stewed celery with a little soy sauce.
We chose vegetarian mu shu and a mushroom dish called Satay Lion’s Mane for our entrees, with steamed brown rice. The rice was nutty and fresh, possibly just a tad undercooked but certainly eatable. Alas, the vegetarian mu shu repeated the mistake of the lettuce wraps; it was nicely presented but bland as all get-out, with the only real taste notes coming from the plum sauce.
The Satay Lion’s Mane wasn’t as bland, but that wasn’t saying much. The lion’s mane mushrooms were limp and slightly off, with a slight alkali tang that didn’t pair well with the over-soyed satay.
Robyn had a bit of a cold and ordered Chrysanthemum Flower tea for its medicinal properties. I ordered plum green tea, which was delicious and is supposed to stimulate the appetite. I finished the pot but left most of the meal; even though the portions were on the skimpy side we didn’t finish what we had.
We left in search of something a bit more substantial than usual for dessert (and we found it, but that’s another story…).
Bete-Lukas (Ethiopian)
March 16, 2009
- Restaurant website
- Location: SE Portland (Division & 50th)
- Price to stuff two people at dinner: $36
The guy behind me on Division St. was honking and carrying on so, you’d have thought I’d sideswiped his kitten but I swear I didn’t do anything. Then I stopped at the light and he got out of his car, ran up and poked his head in my window. “Your left taillight is out, ma’am. I thought you’d want to know.”
Only in Portland, I mused, as I trudged up the stairs to meet Robyn at Bete-Lukas. Shortly after I forgot all about it, because when you’re at Bete-Lukas, you don’t want to waste time on inconsequentials like nuclear war or a nice fellow driver: You just wanna eat.
Le Bouchon
March 6, 2009
- Restaurant website
- Location: Pearl district
- Cost for two for dinner: $80 with tip, beverage, dessert
Robyn and I seem to have this magical ability to empty restaurants, or at least we frequently wind up being the only patrons in the whole place, and our last adventure was no exception: Le Bouchon, a tiny French restaurant across the street from Lux Lighting in the Pearl.
Now, continentally speaking, it was 7pm so we were a bit early, but not THAT early, not for Portland. “Lately we’re crowded for lunch,” shrugged the hostess, “but at dinner…this.”
We promised to make loud, crowd-like noises and she seated us at a tiny table for two next to the window. A board held the day’s specials in addition to the regular menu, but I didn’t need to glance at either to order; I’d seen what I wanted on a sign outside. “I’ll have the cassoulet.”
Robyn chose comfort food, French-style: Duck confit on a bed of gruyere and sliced potatoes. Think upscale hash. The food would be filling and pricey enough–that was a $21.95 cassoulet I’d be chewing–that we didn’t bother to accompany it with salads or veggies or whatnot.
For those who haven’t gone to heaven on their tastebuds yet, cassoulet is a sort of navy bean soup on steroids. Rich, thick, savory and tangy, it can have, variously, chunks of game, sausage, mushrooms, etc., but it’s always finished with a confit of duck or goose.
I made my first cassoulet during my Julia Child phase, as a teenager. At 22, I had a superb version at one of the best continental restaurants in the US, Erna’s Elderberry House–Erna used to celebrate fall harvest with a “peasant night” in the wine cellar, complete with incredible cassoulet and the new vintages. I continued the love affair years later in France, where great cassoulet variations were a seasonal staple in just about every small village bistro.
Outside of Erna’s, a couple of places in New York that require a credit check to get in, and Chez Panisse down in the Bay area, however, I haven’t found really good cassoulet in the US. You can luck into a home-made version, but most restaurant chefs seem unwilling to spend three or four days making all the component parts, letting them age awhile longer, and then combine everything and spend another couple of days simmering the rich result.
So I’m always on the lookout for cassoulet, but I don’t expect much. Probably a good thing here: The cassoulet at Le Bouchon was rich and tasty but more akin to a fabulous bean soup. A good cassoulet will send me to the moon and back with every spoonful; I stayed firmly in my seat at Le Bouchon.
I still enjoyed it, though perhaps not 22 bucks’ worth. Robyn’s duck confit was equally tasty. We finished with a creme brulee that, like the cassoulet, was tasty but not transcendental.
In the end, it was a good, serviceable meal. Only one thing really disappointed: The bread. Our hostess brought out a basket of baguette slices that tasted more brioche than baguette.
(begin rant)
What the heck is it about Portland breads? Given Portland’s terrific emphasis on quality food, you’d think the bread would be superb, but I’ve yet to find bread that’s as consistently good as those I can find on any street corner in New York, Boston or Washington DC.
(end rant)
The making of French bread is an art in itself, but its ingredients list is surprisingly simple, without much in the way of fat or dairy. That’s what gives French baguettes their signature airiness and crackly crust. Le Bouchon’s baguette was tender, dense and almost crustless, full of the wrong kind of flavor. It was clearly made with SOME kind of dairy product, a mistake that grocery stores often make but one I don’t expect from a French restaurant.
It absolutely didn’t belong in my cassoulet, anyway.
So…Le Bouchon is a nice little place and given the prices I can see why it’s more of a smash at lunch in the current economic climate. I wouldn’t mind trying their onion soup when I find myself there at noon. But please, fix the bread first.