A side trip to Seattle – one full of more great food and an excellent concert (and sales tax) – now behind me, my first proper meal back in Portland would see me seated at a communal table at Clyde Common, a space described as a European Tavern but in reality more a sort of “gastropub” in the vein of places like New York’s Breslin – both restaurants located in close proximity to their respective city’s ACE Hotel and both featuring open kitchens, Stumptown Coffee, and menus riddled with unique takes on American comfort foods crafted from local and organic ingredients.
A large space, heavy with blond woods and concrete but balanced by high ceilings, the noise level at Clyde Common was admittedly a bit of a turnoff when I first arrived but after settling into my seat and making my selections the sound seemed to dissipate even as patrons came and went, the restaurant at least half full throughout my stay. Seemingly understaffed, only two young women doubling as servers and hostesses, I will note that my coffee twice ran empty during my brunch and worse, given my vantage of the kitchen I was rather annoyed as I watched many plates – mine included – sit at the pass for five or more minutes before service, a situation that could have easily been remedied by an extra runner or by serving plates as they were readied instead of batching them so everything arrived at once.
Setting aside the dysfunctional service and moving to the food itself my order consisted of two items…one “savory” and one “sweet,” but both with elements of each and both excellent. Starting with the savory, yet another Monte Cristo in a city where the dish is seemingly ubiquitous, the version served at Clyde Common consisted of a single slice of rich fried brioche topped with shaved loin ham and pecorino tartufo plus a lightly dressed salad and a dollop of Fig mostarda and two sunnyside eggs. Rich and balanced, naturally sweet from the figs but plenty savory otherwise, and benefitted by cracked pepper plus the light vinaigrette on the salad this was not a traditional Monte Cristo like that at Gravy…it was better.
Transitioning from my favorite savory breakfast to my favorite dessert, the only thing that could have made the Common’s take on bread pudding better is if it would have been served in a more expedited manner as a separate course so that I could have enjoyed it piping hot instead of luke warm – and yet even with that going against it the “Spiced Bread Pudding” was still pretty fantastic; the warm and dense oatmeal based bread served in a shallow baking ceramic with peanut brittle, chevre, pear preserves, and hand-whipped cream adding elements of sweet and salty plus crunchy and creamy to a wintery base of molasses, ginger, and cinnamon. Complex, rich, and entirely nontraditional I’d recommend a trip to Clyde Common for this dish alone and definitely would not hesitate to return for brunch or dinner, though I would make a specific request for dishes to be brought out individually (a la Tasty n’ Sons or Ned Ludd) if I did.
Always doing my homework before taking a trip and realizing that there was no way I could fit in all the breakfasts and brunches I wanted by doing only one a day it was decided that for my last two days in town I would forgo lunch in exchange for a second breakfast and although I’d considered Olympic Provisions as one of the options a fortuitous encounter the night prior at Roe made me reconsider, the end result sending me instead to Vitaly Paley’s “Imperial” just after 8am despite a late night and plenty of food and drink between Roe and Tanuki.
Arriving downtown on foot after a long morning run and a quick shower I entered The Hotel Lucia in order to browse the lobby’s unique art exhibit before making my way through Imperial’s doors and after chatting with the hotel’s reservationist for a moment I entered yet another dining room with plenty of natural woods, concrete, and high ceilings plus a wide open kitchen and a large wood fired grill – a concept seemingly ubiquitous to Portland and in this case paired with an overhead soundtrack of Beatles, Stones, and The Who plus an almost entirely empty dining room allowing me my choice of seats.
Settled in and browsing the menu as my server readied both water and coffee – a rather acidic blend from Caffé D’Arte – it would not be long before I settled on a few choices and after inquiring about the daily pastry specials I ordered a trio of items, specifically requesting they be brought out as separate courses given the previous day’s experience at Clyde Common; a request that was granted without question leading to excellent pacing, a warm and golden chocolate glazed cake donut arriving with my first coffee refill and subsequent plates arriving at 15-20 minute intervals.
Noting my predilection for sweet to savory and really enjoying the quality of the donut, my second plate to arrive from the kitchen was something I’d sooner associate with Phoenix than Portland and although perhaps better shared given its richness the Warm Ricotta with Grilled Pears and Fry Bread was outstanding; the traditional Indian bread crisp and not excessively greasy, the pears smoky and not overly sweet, and the ricotta rich and creamy – but in a very “first world problems” way, far too large in portion for a single diner.
Holding onto the rest of the ricotta because I simply couldn’t let it return to the kitchen my final savory of the morning was the “Imperial French Toast with Seasonal Fruit, Thickened Cream, and Maple Syrup” and true to the form of much of the French Toast served in Portland this one was divine – another heavily custard laden brioche with a crispy golden exterior and nearly liquid center rife with smokiness from the wood oven. Paired with both caramelized bananas and more wood roasted pears plus a hefty accoutrement of both smoked syrup and hand whipped cream this was most certainly a dish for those with a sweet tooth and although I’d originally considered adding some of the leftover ricotta to the plate I just couldn’t do it, instead ordering an extra slice of toast (no charge) that I topped with the cheese and some left over syrup – gluttony at its best and a great way to finish another superlative Portland morning meal.
Cited by some as better than the low country cuisine of the Carolinas’ and by others as an equal to the food in NOLA largely as a result of superior ingredients and a well trained staff Screen Door was an obvious choice for one of my brunches in PDX yet I have to admit I made a minor miscalculation when planning the midday meal – you see, I failed to realize that Mardi Gras was just around the corner and that even for a party of one willing to sit at the counter the wait at Portland’s bastion of southern cuisine was likely to be in excess of an hour…an hour and fifteen minutes, actually, and the majority of it spent crammed into a small lobby with nearly fifty others jostling for perhaps ten seats and far too little standing room around the ‘while-you-wait’ coffee service; to say the least, the odds were stacked against Screen Door when I was finally wedged into a bar stool seventy five minutes after my arrival.
Finally seated and hopped up on at least 40oz of Stumptown’s Hairbender it would not be long before Screen Door’s menu and list of specials made it into my hands and greeted by the bartender I declined alcohol only to have my coffee mug refilled once again – loud and cramped, busy and buzzy I have to say that as much as Screen Door is most certainly not my scene I instantly felt at ease with the service perusing the menu while the spaces next to me were cleared and filled with new patrons I also found peace with the kitchen; a striking calm at the edge of the maddening dining room where a team of at least fifteen worked rapidly, quietly, and efficiently – the ease of motion harkening Michelin Starred kitchens around the world and immediately reshaping my expectations leading to an order I knew would be too much, both for stomach capacity and bar space.
Sitting and watching the bartender make cocktails with everything from fruits to fire while I chatted with my neighbors and chuckled at the Mardi Gras kitsch it would not be long before my plates began to arrive and as expected the dishes began to pile up quickly, the smaller plates condensed into one after photos forming a single dish containing a buttermilk biscuit, two slices of savory cornbread, and fried chicken plus three sidecars of honey. Starting first with the carbs and moving next to the protein I began my tasting of Screen Door’s cuisine with the biscuit and although good I found the texture to be a bit dense compared to those at Tin Shed, Pine State, or Woodsman Tavern but moving on to the cornbread things quickly improved as the dense bread had clearly been cooked with bacon fat, a smoky heartiness with great tooth and a loose crumb that paired marvelously with the honey but even better with the crunchy and slightly spicy fried chicken.
Moving next to the dish I knew I’d be ordering well before I even walked up to Screen Door, the Bananas Foster French Toast would prove to be every bit worth the hour plus wait as two thick slices of golden brioche with a rich vanilla custard interior arrived bathed in boozy maple syrup tinged with cinnamon and topped with caramelized bananas and dollops of thick whipped cream. Intensely sweet but laced with rum and every bit as good as the signature dish in New Orleans the only thing missing from the experience was the fireside flames – probably a good thing considering the close quarters.
At this point quite stuffed with both food and fluids my server/bartender asked if I’d be interested in dessert and as much as I knew I should defer I simply couldn’t overlook the pending holiday and my fortune to be in a place serving King Cake – in this case a King Cake with Pecan Praline and Cream Cheese Filling, Sugar Sprinkles, plus Chicory coffee Anglaise that I took with me to go and indulged on at Heart Roasters after a showing of “Beasts of the Southern Wild” at the Laurelhurst Theatre. Nicely crafted with the sweet yeast dough housing rich praline filling and deftly balanced by the slightly-bitter Anglaise I can’t say this King Cake was quite as good as those in NOLA, but offered by the slice and nearly 2,500 miles separated from the praline version at Haydel’s it was not too far off…and much like Screen Door I am retrospectively more than happy to have waited over an hour for that cake.
Moving on to my final day in Portland; a 6:00pm flight scheduled to deliver me back in Phoenix just after 8:00 I knew I had time to double up on brunches once more and after my morning run and a stop at Coco Doughnuts I hoped to build on the previous day’s southern success at The Country Cat; Adam Sappington’s “Country Craft Kitchen” on Stark Street. Described with many of the current industry buzz words including “farm to table,” “nose to tail,” “organic,” and more featuring a sizable menu with many of my favorites and reportedly FAR shorter waits than those at Screen Door the space seemed like a can’t miss but in the end the experience turned out to be a mixed one.
Arriving just after 9:15am and finding the space already half full but never anywhere near as jammed packed as Screen door I was greeted by a young woman at the door and offered my choice of a table or a seat at the Chef’s counter and opting for the later I’ll note that if you have the option, particularly as a solo, this is the spot to be as a quiet but friendly staff of four worked the line while joking with one another as well as guests, seemingly enjoying their job every step of the way – even as they heckled me about ‘ordering too much,’ something I assured them that two plates was very unlikely to entail.
Sitting and waiting, sipping yet another cup of Stumptown, while watching the team expedite everything from pork to pancakes and biscuits to brisket it would be approximately a twenty minute wait before my duo of plates arrived (unfortunately the restaurant’s policy was to serve dishes together, as opposed to coursed out) and as hard as it was to pass on the Monte Cristo my selected savory would prove to be well worth it, the signature “Cast Iron Skillet Fried Chicken with Toasted Pecan Bacon Spoonbread” an exemplary pile of crispy bird paired with sweet-meets-savory bacon and cornbread custard topped with buttery pecans plus a seemingly extraneous salad that actually proved brilliantly placed, the light acid of the vinaigrette helping to provide some levity to an otherwise hefty plate of excellent cuisine.
Transitioning from savory to sweet, and the main reason I opted to visit Country Cat on a weekend rather than a weekday, the *weekend only* Cinnamon Swirl French Toast with Makers Mark Custard, Vanilla Poached Pears, Clabber Cream, Maple Syrup would unfortunately prove to be quite disappointing – particularly in a city where I’d already experienced so many superlative takes on my favorite breakfast dish – and largely because of the toast itself. Large in portion and big in flavor with the poached pears, cream, and pure maple all excellent it was the execution of this dish that fell short – the custard not only unremarkable (and certainly not boozy,) but also not saturating the bread thus leaving the interior not dissimilar to a slice of plan cinnamon toast. Admittedly more than ample for sopping up the lovely amalgam of fruit, cream, and syrup but generally ‘bready’ I’m sure some of my disappointment in this dish was my preference for custard laden toast, so perhaps others results may vary, and I certainly would not hesitate to return in order to sample more of the menu – particularly the cinnamon rolls and monte cristo which both looked excellent, or some of the more interesting options from the dessert menu (which they should really consider serving at brunch.)
For my final brunch in town, and actually my final meal in general, I decided to take a chance on one of the new kids on the block – not necessarily a new restaurant, but a new (and decidedly unique) brunch service at Spints Ale House that would turn out to be one of my best spontaneous decisions of the trip – and the second best brunch, as well.
Obviously a watering hole from its title to its layout I was clued in to Spints by a fellow Chowhound and after so many crowded brunch spots throughout Portland I was admittedly surprised when I arrived to find the space literally empty; myself, a bartender, and a hostess the only people present save for the kitchen staff and honestly, had there not been a sign out front and a smiling “good morning” from the man tending both bar and table I’d have probably turned around at the door instead of seating myself at a hightop in the bar room where Radiohead played overhead and heavy woods and concrete once again filled the space with Stumptown soon to fill my mug.
A warm and open space with an ample collection of top shelf liquor befitting its primary function as a bar it should go without saying that service was excellent given the lack of other patrons (though another couple would show up later) but just to stress the point service was really quite exemplary, the bartender well versed in both the food and beverage program and even going so far as to gift me two cocktails he was “experimenting with” for future menus – the first a take on the White Russian featuring Apple Rum, Mint Bitters, Condensed Milk, and Kahlua while the second was served as a “warm-up” to my coffee with espresso, Bailey’s, and Cedar Bitters. Generally not one to imbibe so early in the day but not wanting to seem rude I must say that while I generally prefer my coffee sweeter, the first drink was excellent – the house made bitters coming across as a light kiss on the palate while the rest of the drink tasted like a creamy Amish apple pie.
Chatting as I awaited my plates and informed that despite the lack of patrons that day the brunch service had been doing rather well it would be a mere fifteen minutes before my first dish arrive and as much as the dish has become bastardized and cliché here in the States I couldn’t pass up the concept of “Sweet Potato and Chicken Liver Poutine” after my server’s description of hand cut fries, fresh curds, rough cut fried chicken livers, and a touch of cheddar; the whole thing decadent and rich with plenty of mineral funk – a great dish if you like liver, but probably not ideal if you don’t (or if you’re expecting the Quebecoise classic.)
Moving from funky to funkier, my main plate at Spints was the dish that got me in the door and as much as I knew I was taking a risk ordering Sweetbreads at a non-French, non-fine-dining restaurant the old adage of “high risk : high reward” proved quite true in the case of Spints’ French Toast with Fried Sweetbreads and Maple Syrup. Starting first with two slices of rich poppyseed bread entirely saturated with creamy custard and fried to a golden brown and moving on to three peerless sweetbreads; much like the toast golden crisp on the exterior and creamy within and lightly touched with powdered sugar plus barrel aged maple syrup this was the sort of dish one would expect to find, perhaps, at Martin Picard’s Au Pied de Cochon and achieving the same deft balance as much of APdC’s cuisine at a mere $14 this dish was a veritable steal and amongst the most memorable in all of Portland.
At this point sated – and actually rather full – I could have easily departed Spints’ quite happy with the entire experience but literally incapable of passing up Bread Pudding when it is present on a menu I did the smart thing and ordered a slice – the $6 square far larger than I’d anticipated yet so good I nearly found myself licking the plate clean (and well aware that I was in for a long, sleepy flight.) Described simply on the menu as “Apple Bread Pudding” but in reality chunks of angelfood cake saturated with apple infused custard, cider, and chunks of roasted apples topped with rich vanilla bean crème anglaise this was, like everything else at Spints, the sort of food I love and without a doubt amongst the best bread pudding dishes I have had in some time – another must order, no matter how full you think you are, and a beautiful pairing to the apple rum cocktail.
An exquisite brunch in a city full of great brunches my visit to Spint’s ended with the bill – a modest $30, served alongside house made pecan brittle and thanking my server for both the recommendations and the drinks with a hefty tip I made my way to the car not only completely satisfied, but also with the newfound knowledge that Chicago is no longer my favorite breakfast and brunch city in America; not even close.
Perhaps because it was the meal we most frequently enjoyed as a family when I was young or perhaps as a result of my propensity for sweets in general I absolutely love breakfast…and perhaps moreso the concept of brunch. Always the sweets over savories sort yet also easily tempted by a croque, biscuit, or runny egg with quality pork (or in a perfect world some delicious marriage of both) one of the very first things that caught my eye when setting the agenda for Portland was just how strong the brunch/breakfast scene was; no less than twenty places serving weekday BRUNCH, hundreds with unique breakfast options, and still others featuring weekend-only choices that upped the ante even further; the only question from my standpoint was how to maximize my exposure without cutting into other meals (too much) – a mission I think I accomplished admirably in tallying 11 spots in seven days.
Starting off my breakfast list with a proper weekend brunch only thirty-five minutes after hopping off the plane my very first taste of Portland would come from the Woodsman Tavern and Market, directly next to the Original Stumptown Coffee, owned by the same team, and thus serving copious refills of their signature brew for free with breakfast. A heavily wooded spot from floorboards to tables and chairs to fixtures and the bar while brick walls and heavy curtains added to the ‘tavern’ feel Woodsman also features a small market next door selling house made breads and baked goods plus a number of locally source goods and house cured meats plus artisan products from companies like Mast Brothers, McClures, and more…the whole of the experience very curated but also homey and warm.
Without the absurd waits of some of the city’s more ‘famous’ brunch spots my arrival at Woodsman Tavern coincided with the sunniest day of my visit and with moods seemingly matching the weather I was seated promptly and greeted by the first of two pleasant young female servers who presented the menu, poured coffee, and left me for mere moments to ponder the options; a total of three eventually selected that she would claim “a lot of food” but I would consider just right beginning with an appetizer of Honey Vanilla Brioche Beignets featuring a delicately crisp exterior overlying a dense and buttery center that paired beautifully with house made pear-rosemary jam; the light herbal notes a perfect foil to the otherwise sweet doughnuts.
Well timed both with coffee refills and transitioning from course to course my next plate to arrive from the kitchen was apparently a bit of a signature dish according to my server and, as I would soon find out, a signature for good reason. Served on a single plate but featuring two distinct entities easily enjoyed together or on their own, “Potted Egg, Creamed Greens, Mushrooms, Biscuit, Country Ham, Apple Butter” would prove to be one of the most well balanced breakfast dishes of the trip – the jar a mélange of earthiness and umami while the golden biscuit with savory ham and a light smear of sweetness was every bit as good as the one at Pine State – at $12 a must order.
Last up – at least amongst the items from the Tavern proper – “Griddled Panettone, Caramelized Blood Orange, Mascarpone” would serve as the restaurant’s take on French Toast and although it was the weakest of my selections largely because the bread was neither dredged nor soaked thus leading to a texture more akin to “Toast” than “French Toast” it was at the very least interesting as the addition of rich mascarpone and bitter-sweet blood orange jus teaming with cinnamon and clove gave the dish a sort of Christmassy feel I hadn’t expected but certainly enjoyed in the context of panettone.
With the bill paid – a mere $27 considering the (surprising) lack of sales tax – I next made my way from the tavern with plans to check out Stumptown but allowing my curiosity to get the best of me I instead ended up in the Woodsman Market…a fortuitous mistake, perhaps, that led to a pound of coffee for the road, a Mast Brothers Dark Chocolate with Stumptown Coffee bar, and a Dark Chocolate and Salted Peanut Cupcake – the later a truly impressive specimen with a nearly souffle base topped in light peanut butter frosting, roasted peanuts, and fleur de sel that ranks amongst the best cupcakes I’ve had in some time.
Moving next to Sunday, a good night’s sleep after the two-fer of Ox and Nostrana gave way to a great morning run at the park and after readying myself for the day it was off to a breakfast two-fer, the first being the venerable and very, for lack of better word – “Portland” – Tin Shed, a space with brunch daily starting at 7:00am, a reservation list that includes the number of dogs in your party, and a campaign of local, organic, non-GMO foods and a comprehensive composing program. With ethics in place I will say that Tin Shed was a spot that many locals detracted me from visiting during my original research but with early opening hours and a solid, though perhaps un-exciting, menu and low prices I figured it worth a look.
Arriving early at the restaurant and thus avoiding any lineup I walked into Tin Shed and was greeted pleasantly by a middle aged female who suggested I could sit anywhere I like and opting for a bar-seat near the window overlooking rainy Alberta Street I was handed a menu and offered coffee – refills available to my rear – and given a “Grumpy” cup I had to chuckle because at the time my mood was quite good, even if the “Portland Roasting Company” Coffee on brew was a bit acrid and over-roasted.
Orders placed and left to wait as I watched the street outside slowly begin to populate with 20 to 30-somethings, the vast majority with dogs, it would not be long before my plates began to arrive – unfortunately all four of them at once; something I’d not see at any other brunch spot in the city even though the restaurant was not at all busy…though in the end I guess it did not really matter as none only one of the items was anywhere near ‘good,’ the least of which being a $2.25 chocolate chip cookie that paled in comparison to even the sort cut from a Pillsbury Bar and baked at home.
Moving next to slightly better options, the “Belly Teaser” featuring Coconut Milk Jasmine Rice Porridge with Vanilla, Bananas, and nuts was fine, I guess – the texture pleasant enough but the flavor flat and lacking any semblance of vanilla while the bananas were a bit under-ripe – the whole dish cried for some sweetness, but even with a bit of sugar added it was not worth the stomach space and the majority of the $6 order returned to the kitchen untouched while the $1.75 Buttermilk Biscuit received the majority of my attention, its flaky exterior and soft center both textbook and nicely complimented with provided fresh raspberry preserves.
Last, and although not least certainly not ‘most,’ a $2.50 side of “Sin” rounded out the offerings at Tin Shed and although the exterior was nicely cooked and laced with cinnamon the interior of the “House baked Sweet Potato-Cinnamon French Toast” was essentially just warm potato bread; not custard, not really sweet or even nuanced, just whispy and dull while the syrup – thick and cool – seemed out of place for a restaurant so focused on natural/healthy options, a note on the menu indicating that “real maple syrup” would have added a $1.50 surcharge to my $15.00 total bill; the vast majority of which I’m at least reassured went to compost.
With the majority of my meal at Tin Shed remarkable only in how subpar it was I was happy I’d planned on a second brunch/early lunch during my second day in Portland; this one at Ned Ludd. Described by themselves as an American Craft Kitchen and by people I trust as one of the most “authentic” restaurants in Portland due to Chef Jason French’s responsible local sourcing ethos and a focus on cooking everything in a wood burning oven I sort of had a feeling going into this meal that it would be something memorable, but I had no idea that it would end up arguably the best meal of my trip.
Located on MLK Blvd in a rather nondescript metal and glass building I’d jogged by just that morning my arrival at Ned Ludd preceded the 10:00am opening and wandering around back to see the local garden, then around front where the February weather had clearly worn on the foliage and herb garden it would not be long before the doors to Ned Ludd opened and greeted first by a young woman and then the young bearded man who would turn out to be my server I was offered my choice of seats and taking one opposite the bar so that I could see into the kitchen – a tiny space I’d later visit in order to see the minimalist layout and wood burning oven – I was handed a menu and offered coffee; my first of many experiences with Heart’s superlative Ethiopian Yukro before being left to weigh the options.
All wood beams and cement, heavy curtains and plants, plus a background soundtrack of Dylan and Young while brass chandeliers hung overhead it would not be long before the server returned and after inquiring about portion sizes – him suggesting ‘one or two’ plates per a guest – I opted for four, partially because I assumed he was underestimating my ability to eat and part because I felt the need to limit myself and not order the eleven items that sounded great. Asked if I’d like plates ‘spread out’ I stated that I certainly would and with two more tables now seated my server disappeared to the kitchen to place my order, returning seconds later with a refill and menus for the others; if there was another waiter or waitress present besides the bartender I’m unaware, but either way the service was beyond reproach.
Happy with the coffee, music, and warm environs as the restaurant continued to fill my first plate to arrive was actually a board featuring a single Oven Griddled Apple Muffin with Sweet Butter and like everything that followed it was excellent – the muffin itself spiced like cider with a spongy texture not unlike a soufflé cake while the sweet butter/apple butter were an obvious accoutrements perfectly suited to the muffin – the sweet butter especially bringing out a light smokiness from the wood in the oven.
Moving next to something savory, not always my ‘go to’ at breakfast or brunch but in this case too good to pass up, the Pork and Lamb Rillettes served with toasted whole wheat bread and pickled apples would prove an unintended but inspired follow-up to the muffin, in this case the savory apples providing a light acidic and texturally crisp foil to the intensely gamey but creamy rillettes.
With two excellent dishes behind me and yet another coffee refill nothing could have prepared me for what came next, a plate that as of this writing on 3/3/13 is still the best thing I’ve eaten in 2013 – the simply named “Thick Cut French Toast, Maple Syrup, Pear Butter” featuring what can best be described as vanilla pudding posing as bread – a nearly liquid custard beneath the golden crust that was actually closer to buttery or savory than sweet and therefore a perfect pairing to the hot maple syrup and thick pear butter. Rarely one to pass on French Toast, whether served as breakfast or dessert, this was without a single shadow of a doubt the best French Toast I’ve ever experienced – a strong statement considering the one at LeMeac last April.
At this point I could have stopped and left Ned Ludd ready to deem it one of my top five breakfasts/brunches of all time but at the suggestion of the couple next to me I decided to take my chances with one last plate and while the “Oven Kissed Chocolate Chip Cookie with Cold Milk and Sea Salt” did not soar to the heights of the French Toast it did indeed exceed all expectations – the steaming hot skillet a sort 50/50 mixture of crispy cookie dough and dark chocolate topped with crunchy bits of sea salt. Rich, decadent, and entirely over the top whether at breakfast, lunch, or dinner I’d be hard pressed to say this was the best chocolate chip cookie I’ve ever tasted, but I’d also have to think pretty hard to think of one aside from perhaps Levain or Le Grande Orange that was on par – and neither of them are anywhere near the same caliber of Ned Ludd in terms of setting, service, savories, or especially French Toast. Simply stated, my next visit to Portland will feature both brunch and dinner at Ned Ludd and I’d suggest anyone in town for even one day make it part of their agenda, as well.
Another day and another brunch, this one before heading to the Pacific Coast, would see me visit Tasty and Sons; the small plates restaurant from the team behind Toro Bravo seemingly a perfect place to experience a large representative example of what the kitchen could do without being wasteful (or entering a food coma that would make it difficult to make the round trip to Seaside and back without pulling over for a nap.) Warned by many of hour-plus waits even on weekdays and myself arriving at the Williams Avenue location just minutes before 9:00, having already stopped downtown for coffee and canele at Courier plus a box of Voodoo Doughnuts, I have to say I was still surprised – a small line of a dozen folks already waiting by the door and starting the procession inside as I parked the car.
Fitting the style I’ve come to realize is ubiquitous to much of Portland’s dining scene – that being music that is slightly too loud, chairs that are a little too hard, cement floors, brick walls, and lots of reclaimed wood with open industrial ceilings – the first thing that struck me beyond the superficial aspects of Tasty n’ Sons was something else I found common in Portland; friendly and attentive service that carried from the hostess stand to my server, a pleasant young woman at the bar where I’d requested to sit and being the only solo diner in the place for the first half hour the service offered was essentially one to one – plates arriving with impeccable timing and coffee (probably a gallon of Stumptown Hairbender when it was all said and done) refilled without hesitation.
Having again received a suggestion from service that I felt short sighted – specifically that I may have ordered ‘too much’ – without even knowing I’d already been to Courrier and Voodoo as I chuckled at a quote on the wall from Point stating “before judging a thin man one must get some information, perhaps he was once fat” my meal at Tasty n’ Sons began with a pair of small snacks – the first a fluffy Chocolate Potato Doughnut resting in a thin pool of rich Crème Anglaise and the second a Bacon Wrapped Date stuffed with an almond, griddled, and drizzled with Maple Syrup; both items signatures and both outstanding.
Progressing next to heavier options, “Auntie Paula’s French Toast” arrived next and although a decent version of my favorite breakfast item the caramelized and lightly singed brioche was simply too ‘bready’ on the interior to match my tastes for more custard laden options. Offered as a dessert with ice cream and in my case served with pear infused maple and whipped cream there are simply far too many exemplary French Toasts in PDX to bother with this one – particularly when the following dish, a far more simple “Toast & Jam” was vastly more complex, a thin layer of Teleme Cheese melted on each slice while pear and pineapple preserves split time in adding light, natural sweetness.
For my ‘main’ course, if such a thing can be had at Tasty n’ Sons, the Open Faced Monte Cristo would prove to be not only delicious, but also a veritable bargain with a substantial amount of thinly sliced ham perched atop bread what seemed to be the very same bread as featured in Paula’s French Toast, but more most and certainly more saturated with flavor, in this case a sort of pimento pepper spiced maple syrup that was certainly spicy but not overwhelmingly so and a lovely compliment to the creamy cheese and savory pork.
Last, and certainly not least, the team at Tasty n’ Sons definitely went out on a high note with their off-menu special dessert, the “Griddled Rum Cake with Banana and Bacon” a sort of hybrid cross between the traditional French Baba with its golden yeasty crumb and a more pedestrian coffee cake with a streusel topping and thicker crust both infused with hefty notes of rum and drizzled with local honey. Intense, flavorful, and topped with a strip of smoky bacon plus caramelized bananas this was the sort of dish that comes out of nowhere and steals the show in an otherwise entirely satisfying meal, pushing it to a whole different level – a level that ALMOST saw me visit the newly opened Tasty n’ Adler a few days later before deciding to save it for another trip – a choice that, in retrospect, I regret because at least two (and more likely four) of my subsequent morning meals would have been better spent at one of John Gorham’s Tasty locations.
With lunch plans for Pok Pok and an impromptu stop at Lauretta Jeans’ as I misread the opening time as 8:00am as opposed to 9:00 my Tuesday breakfast took place at the Scandinavian hot-spot, Broder – a restaurant that intrigued me largely due to the lack of Swedish cuisine (outside of Ikea) in most major cities but also because I’d heard the space itself was quite unique, a quaint spot on Clinton Street that felt like a throwback to the 1950s in terms of setting, servicewear, and style – a clean minimalism that certainly applied to the long and narrow room, but also, unfortunately to the service.
Arriving just after doors opened to find a few seats filled, notably one of the chefs’ mother and grandmother at the table next to me, I was handed a menu only after answering “no” to the question of ‘do you know what you want’ as I sat down. Perhaps mistaken as a regular, or perhaps just part of the restaurant’s style I did at this point request coffee – a thin and watery brew served in a clear glass mug that I was surprised to find out later was Stumptown…and a mug again served with prompting for my order; at this point bordering on impolite as I’d been seated for less than 5 minutes.
Eventually having a chance to peruse the menu as my server took to schmoozing with the ladies next to me I finally made my selection of two plates and sat listening to random American (not at all Scandinavian) music playing at a modest volume until the dishes arrived simultaneously and although both looked quite good, the results – largely due to the poor quality ingredients – were substandard, beginning first with “Friterade Applen,” a pair of greasy apple fritters largely lacking in apple flavor alongside baked eggs and apple pork sausage – again without any semblance of an apple and only saved by the high quality of the pure maple syrup which was still largely lost on the fritters.
Moving next to my second item, this option a definite improvement to the fritters, a quintet of Aebleskivers sat piled golden, fluffy, and piping hot with just a bit of powdered sugar to highlight the mild buttermilk tones. Baked in a traditional Aebleskiver pan and thus devoid of any semblance oiliness each of these little puffs tasted like a nice quality buttermilk pancake and when paired with the house lemon curd and lingonberry jam the overall effect was pleasant, though at $9 one could have just as easily gotten far more interesting baked goods made with better quality ingredients at dozens of Portland bakeries, breakfast nooks, or even donut shops.
For my last breakfast before heading north to Seattle for a couple of days I decided to risk an early morning gut-buster in order to visit Mississippi Avenue’s Gravy and with a great morning run of nearly 12 miles behind me I arrived with eyes, for once, actually bigger than my stomach and the door just unlocked with only one man sitting at the counter as The Four Tops played overhead. A large space with the servers still busy setting tables and tidying up I stood for a few minutes a bit confused as to whether I should wait (as indicated by a card and sign-in sheet before me) or take a seat but within seconds the questioned was answered, a friendly woman with a southern accent inviting me to sit where I like while she gathered me silverware, a glass of water, and a menu.
With no menu online but a good idea of what I wanted from reading the words of others it would not be long before my server returned, porting a cup of coffee that would be refilled so rapidly and frequently that I actually had to ask her to hold off since I was to be driving three hours to Seattle and even then the lightly roasted brew – very rich with a bit of berry and citrus making me assume it to be Kenyan or Somali in origin – left me quite buzzy for the drive…not to mention the dishes to come, this time all delivered at once by my request as the waitress asked whether I’d prefer them spaced out.
Sitting and listening to the music as a few more seats filled – one a business meeting and the other a young couple with a child, then more after that, the demographic of Gravy was clearly local and spanned all ages – a good sign of a ‘homey’ sort of diner – and when the dishes arrived I could tell this was not going to be fancy of finessed food, just big portions of interesting takes on classics starting off with a Fluffy Catshead Biscuit teaming with butter and a side of Strawberry Jam. Given the fact that one of my other plates was offered with a side “of my choice,” but precluded from ordering the biscuit because Gravy so frequently runs out, this $1.50 option was not quite as good as others on the trip – the exterior a bit too crunchy and the interior dried out, but my guess is that it would have stood up admirably to the house sausage gravy.
Up next, unable to pass up sweet but also intrigued by the savories I made a mental compromise and ordered the Monte Cristo – a means to sample the French Toast…plus ham, turkey, swiss, and a pair of poached eggs plus a side of pure maple syrup – probably a pound of food in total and one of the few instances where I simply had to leave some of it on the table not because it wasn’t good, but because along with the other items it was simply too much with the batter dipped bread providing a soft, cinnamon note to the otherwise savory plate that turned into a visual nightmare once yolks were broken and syrup added, but tasted divine. As to the ‘side’ – the fruit cup tasted like fruit cups taste at diners in February…like melon.
For the ‘dessert’ option, though just as easily an appetizer or a main course for a small group of people, the oft raved Oatmeal Brulee with Berries was everything I’d hoped for and then some – the oats themselves toothsome and creamy with plenty of sugar and vanilla while a crunchy golden sugar shell topped the dish adding not only intense sweetness that mellowed when broken into the oats, but also a nice textural crunch. Topped with fresh berries, an additional surprise came as I dug deeper into the large bowl to find more berries within, and quite a few of them as well – the fructose and juice bursting and bleeding into the surrounding oats making the whole dish quite dessert like, and nearly impossible to not finish – hence the leftover Monte Cristo.
A great spot with ridiculously low prices considering the quality of the food and the portions I’ve heard that Gravy can often sport 2+ hour waits like the rest of Portland’s best breakfast and brunch spots and to that I say although it wasn’t my “best” breakfast in PDX, I’d recommend getting there early – or waiting it out, because it really is quite excellent – even if you don’t get anything with thickened meat stock anywhere near it.
Transitioning from sweets (http://endoedibles.com/?p=5269) to savories (mostly,) eight additional stops in Portland ranging from 7am Ice Cream and 9am Biscuits to 1pm Foie Gras and 10pm Pizza would round out spots not quite fulfilling the criteria of a meal, but also not to simply be overlooked given their stature in the local culinary scene. While some of these places can and do certainly qualify as a legitimate restaurant where one could enjoy a multiple course meal, for myself they acted as pre-meals, second dinners, or snacks along the way.
Beginning with one of the things I most certainly go out of my way for in any city I visit, I’d heard that Portland’s pizza scene was “good, but not great – aside from Apizza Scholl’s” and yet with that in mind I mapped out two definites and one “maybe;” Nostrana – a spot that would actually cap my first day in town when the person I was staying with agreed to give up an old grudge with service and allow Chef Cathy Whims’ SE Morrison regional Italian restaurant a second chance.
Having dined at Ox earlier that evening before the Trailblazers game and then hoofing it back to my friend’s home before heading out our arrival at Nostrana would be just shy of 10pm and despite the late hour the space was surprisingly full – a few tables open, but the only two-top being cleared as we were greeted at the hostess stand and after a few moments we were led to our seats…where we proceeded to chat without looking at our menu for a good fifteen minutes, a time during which our waitress was actually incredibly patient – though she did stop in multiple times to see if we were ready, had questions, or wanted drinks.
With the space large and heavily wooded plus high ceilings and an open kitchen where the stone pizza oven stands proud the space at Nostrana is decidedly “Italian” inspired and although ‘buzzy’ I never found the room so loud that I had to raise my voice to be heard over the din (compare this to Mozza or Balena or Babbo and it is a welcomed change) and once orders were placed service was on point – items arriving quickly beginning with a flight of reds for my friend and a glass of 2006 Falchini Vin Santo del Chianti with two small biscotti for myself; a dessert wine with a great nose and a lot of sweetness that probably isn’t everyone’s idea of pizza wine but one that did just as well for me throughout the meal.
Moving next to a pair of Nostrana’s famous pies, round and uncut in the traditional Neapolitan manner (served with scissors,) the first was a well prepared and wet Margherita that, although featuring excellent quality toppings, fell flat for me due to a dull and flavorless crust lacking enough heft or char. Better by far, a second pizza, the seasonal Granchio with Dungeness Crab, Crème Fraiche, Fines Herbes, and Paprika Butter would not only up the ante by improving on the crust with more bubble and smoke, but would also work wonders in the balance of ingredients – particularly the manner in which the slight sours of the crème Fraiche and hefty smoked savoriness of the Paprika acted to highlight the sweet, fresh crab. I’ve since told my mother I’d love to see her mother’s signature Hungarian paprikash matched to this sauce as opposed to chicken and sour cream in the future.
Adding a last savory largely because it is something I cannot pass up, the Gnocchi alla Romana would arrive as expected, though to my dining partner’s surprise with three large semolina dumplings baked in a cast iron pot, swimming in a pool of fresh mozzarella, tomato sauce, porcini mushrooms, and rosemary infused cream. Dense and delicious, finished in the wood burning oven which added a smoky nuance that really brought out the rosemary I loved the flavors, but found the gnocchi to be a bit mushy – not bad, but not the superlative version I’d hoped for.
Never one to pass on dessert – even at second dinner – two were ordered and having already had Mozza’s budino (reported to be Nostrana’s most ordered dessert by our waitress) I went with the Chocolate Budino with Chantilly Cream while my friend selected the Ricotta Cheesecake with candied orange & chocolate on a pistachio crust. Starting with the budino, cake style as opposed to pudding, the classic combination of chocolate and vanilla was essentially a rich chocolate devil’s food cake and although perhaps not the most daring dessert, it was beautifully balanced and the chocolate with olive oil fruitiness was quite nice. Moving next to the cheesecake – let’s just say the texture was great and the crust was good – the rest of the story consisted of Julia and I making jokes about Kraft’s “Terry’s Chocolate Orange,” not particularly a good thing.
Overall a nice meal in a pleasant environment with what I felt to be good service considering the hour and our dilly-dallying over the menu I cannot say Nostrana struck me as a restaurant helmed by a Beard Award finalist, particularly given the strength of Portland (and the Pacific Northwest’s) culinary scene, but at the same time it was good enough for the price and I wouldn’t hesitate to go back to try more of the pastas or pies in the future if I was craving Italian and living in, rather than visiting Portland.
Moving next to one of the less pleasant experiences during my visit to Portland a pre-dinner stop for pizza on Superbowl Sunday took me to Ken’s Artisan Pizza just after they opened the doors at 4:00 and arriving to find the place unsurprisingly quiet my issues with the space began with my greeting at the door, where I was told that singles are ‘only’ seated at the bar. Understanding that a small restaurant may not want to expend a two-top on a single during peak hour and happy enough to sit at the bar under most circumstances I found this a bit odd considering the fact that only one four top and one two top in the entire restaurant was filled when I arrived…and when you take into the fact that less than 25% of the restaurant was occupied when I left 45 minutes later it seemed even more peculiar.
Touting Zagat scores, a cookbook, and a laundry list of fine artisan purveyors Ken’s is nice enough on the interior – large central tile oven, concrete floors, wood tables, high ceilings and a bar plus a traditional meat slicer and some wood piles…it looks like a pizzeria – but bearing in mind my ‘welcome’ things really did not get much better once I sat down. Unnamed and unsmiling, a female bartender seemed put-off that I did not want alcohol (note, I did not want to sit at the bar) and sliding a menu before me I ordered what I knew I’d come for, a Prosciutto pizza minus half the prosciutto so I could taste the Margherita on its own…only to be told “we don’t do half and half.” Explaining that I’d pay for the $15 Prosciutto pie (the Margherita $11) but just did not want meat on half of it the words were uttered again “we don’t do half and half” – her eventual compromise being that I could order the Margherita and get a ‘salumi portion’ of Prosciutto on the side and add it myself…ridiculous, but so I did.
Sitting, ignored, with my water glass empty as the bartender fussed at the far end of the bar it would not be long before the pie arrived – along with a plate of pork – and aside from the impossibly flavorless basil (compared to both Nostrana and Scholl’s, so not an effect of the season) it was…alright, the crust yeasty and neatly charred, the mozzarella creamy, and the sauce just a touch sweet but certainly not overtly so. Adding the prosciutto to half helped in terms of salinity; and doubling up on a slice was too much as the pork itself was actually quite hefty and wonderfully flavored. Taking half home for my friend I’m told it warmed up admirably in the oven the next day, so kudos to that I guess.
Off put at this point but well aware of Ken’s Artisan Bakery on 21st (another subpar spot I’d visit a few days later) dessert seemed a good choice, but watching it “prepared” was enough to turn me off to Ken’s Pizza for good – the chilled cup of $8 Chocolate Custard coming from the refrigerator, the fresh whipped cream scooped from a container, and two room temperature chocolate cherry cookies plucked from a jar. Realizing that not all desserts are made and baked on the spot and not entirely expecting this the flavors were fine – a sort of rich budino with high quality chocolate, but to watch it be slapped together (by the bartender) in a few seconds from three storage units sort of killed the magic…much like every other bit of ‘service’ at Ken’s Pizza spot.
Saving the best for last, my third pizza stop in PDX was Apizza Scholl’s – without a doubt the most highly praised pie in the city, and possibly the entire Pacific Northwest. Owned and operated by Brian Spangler and often sporting hour plus waits despite seating twice as many as other pizza legends such as DiFara’s, Lucali, Great Lake, and Bianco I was happy to hear that the Hawthorne Blvd hot spot had recently began accepting reservations and having booked weeks in advance even a steady downpour did not delay my 6:00pm pre-dinner visit for one; in this instance a specific request to sit at the bar so I could watch the kitchen at work.
Utilizing a 700 degree electrical oven instead of stone, wood, or tile and thus allowing not only larger pies but more pies to be baked to order it would only be moments after I arrived before a young lady greeted me and led me to my seat and knowing exactly what I wanted I omitted the menu and placed my order for a full size pie, half Apizza Amore and Half Bacon Bianca. Aware that smaller doughs are available for solos but not as splits and wanting to taste both the red sauce and the white I sat back with my order in and as the restaurant filled to capacity chatted briefly with the waitress and a young pizzaiolo who was stretching dough nearest the counter; all very friendly folks despite how busy the restaurant was and a nice change of pace from Ken’s.
Sitting, waiting, watching, and sort of drooling as the couple next to me received their 18 inch bubbling pie it would not be long before mine too would arrive in all its golden glory and with light char both top and bottom surrounding still bubbly cheese I waited perhaps a minute while snapping a picture before grabbing a steaming slice and taking a bite – the crust absolutely astounding with crunch giving way to slight stretch and without a doubt one of the best crusts I’ve ever had in terms of both texture and the smoky/yeasty taste. Moving on to the cheese – a creamy meets funky blend of fior di latte and aged mozzarella and then the modest use of bold San Marzano tomato sauce the base of the pie spoke for itself.
Having mentioned the two sets of toppings – the Apizza Amore is described as “tomato sauce, mozzarella, pecorino romano/grana padano, fresh garlic, extra virgin olive oil & fresh basil, hot Capicollo” while the Bacon Bianca features “Whole milk mozzarella, pecorino romano/grana padano, lots of fresh garlic, herbs, black pepper, extra virgin olive oil and our house cured bacon” and whether you like your pizza with or without red sauce there is really no way to go wrong here, but loving the blend of tomato and good mozzarella plus basil as I do I think the Margherita inspired Amore was my favorite of the two, though the coppa was not quite as mesmerizing as the briny house cured bacon – too bad they won’t allow that bacon as a Build Your Own topping, though I understand why given the limited quantity.
Working hard to resist eating the whole pie (particularly with Little Bird reservations to follow) I requested half the pie be boxed (or foiled, as is the trend in Portland) and took it home for my friend; I didn’t see it there in the fridge the following day so I assume all went well. A legend for very good reason and entirely worth the hype (and maybe even an hour wait if you don’t have reservations) this is a pizza that even for $30 after a hefty tip felt like a deal – on par with the Great Lake’s and DiFara’s for best non-woodfired pizzas I’ve ever had the opportunity to taste.
Moving past pizzas to something I have decidedly less experience with, biscuits, I’d originally planned to visit Pine State Biscuit for breakfast towards the tail end of my trip to Portland but wandering past the Belmont location during the very first Saturday of my stay and finding the line only five persons deep I knew I’d be foolish to pass by without stopping in for a bite – even if I had just finished brunch at Woodsman Tavern…and even if I was en route to The Waffle Window.
A small space, literally a handful of tables and s small bar along the window with a bustling kitchen of six churning out Creamtop buttermilk biscuit after Creamtop buttermilk biscuit topped with any number of fresh local ingredients it would be only perhaps ten minutes before I found myself at the front of the line and at this point weighing both options and hunger I decided to go for what I’d heard the last three persons before me order – The Reggie Deluxe – plus a pair of desserts to go, and stepping aside I watched the kitchen at work, each member assigned a specific task and working in succession to expedite the process as the line suddenly swelled to fifteen or twenty.
With my order now in hand and a spot serendipitously opening at the bar I took my bag to the side and unpacking my goods as I browsed the concert posters and local art I started with an appetizer – the weakest item of the group in the form of moist but overly sweet butternut squash bread; a slice I I’d expected to be a bit more savory and although good, not great.
Moving next to the main event, the Reggie Deluxe, there really is not much I can add that hasn’t been said about this gluttonous pile of crisp and juicy fried chicken, thick bacon, country gravy, cheddar cheese, and a still-runny fried egg between two of the most wonderful, fluffy, and buttery biscuits I’ve ever tasted – to make it simple, if this sounds like something you’d like then you should order it and if it does not sound like something you’d like then…aside from there possibly being something wrong with you…you should probably order it anyhow since it might change your mind, particularly as Pine State avoids the common mistake of allowing the gravy to overwhelm and thus allows each ingredient to shine.
At this point sated but certainly not “full” I disposed of my garbage and quickly giving up my seat to another waiting patron I was bid farewell by the friendly crew and taking to the street with plastic utensils in hand I attacked the house made Pecan Pie with zeal, the thin $3 slice ample with brown sugar, bourbon, and vanilla beneath toasty pecans supported by a flaky golden shell; a textbook rendition of the southern classic that would have only been better warm with ice cream and coffee; the later available from Stumptown in both hot and cold brew forms at Pine State.
Generally treating sandwiches as snacks when traveling and told that Portland features many excellent ones – from Bunk to Lardo to Kenny and Zukes the place that most caught my eye was a small restaurant-within-a-store called Evoe – located in Pastaworks on Hawthorne. Having spent the majority of the day checking out the Pacific coast from Tilamook to Seaside and arriving back in PDX well before dinner reservations at Le Pigeon the sandwich and charcuterie stop seemed like the perfect spot for a quick bite.
Tucked in the back corner of an enormous Italian Grocery store (incidentally connected to another store full of oddities and knick-knacks that requires more exploring when I have more time and open space in my luggage) I arrived at Evoe to find the bar empty and the two workers chatting, slicing, and preparing jars of pickles as I was invited to sit where I like; the menu directly above the bar and featuring no less than 4 sandwiches and a dozen charcuterie options that sounded divine. Asking questions about the meats felt a little bit like an episode of Portlandia as the heritage and curing was described at length, but with samples offered as we moved along who was I to complain – the cured salmon and jamon iberco both excellent.
Order placed what followed next would prove to be anything but a “quick bite,” though the results were well worth it as I spent the next thirty minutes watching true artistry in the composition of both my sandwich and a side dish – each ingredient picked, cut, toasted, roasted, or grilled individually and sauces made on the spot; this is serious sandwich making, not some “Sandwich Artist” throwing deli meat on a bun that came pre-frozen from the factory, and starting with a beautiful torchon of Foie Gras with Walnut toast and Sauteed Pears – both made as my house cured foie was sliced and my sandwich was prepared – you’d be hard pressed to find a more nicely composed torchon at a bistro in Paris or Montreal. Silky and buttery, completely deveined and spreadable on the warm toast as the pears provided a sweet juxtaposition the only thing that could have made this better was a glass of Tokaji or Sauternes.
Moving next to a dish suggested by the chef when I asked what was best, the Little Bo Peep Sandwich would prove every bit as good as the quality of its four ingredients – the tender and gamey lamb meatballs with a bit of mint and pepper, a rich but surprisingly light feta and olive oil sauce muddled right before service, and bitter frisee on thick ciabatta more with great chew and wispy pockets quite amenable to soaking up the sauce without becoming soggy. Truly a case of letting great ingredients show for themselves this is what sandwich making is all about to me – a composition of tastes, flavors, and textures every bit on par with other raved sandwich spots like Paseo, Paesanos, and even Roli Roti but entirely unique and distinctly Portland.
Up next – a quick stop…literally only 10 minutes – took me to the oft raved Cacao for a taste of their drinking Cocoa and finding a short line before me I took a few moments to browse their other selections, a veritable who’s who of American and European chocolatiers including Amadei, Mast Brothers, and many more with bars and tabs ranging from a few dollars to just shy of twenty. Pleasant enough and nicely designed with florals and woods the dominant tones of the room it would not be long before I was greeted by a young lady at the bar and placing my order for a single $2 shot of Rivoli Dark Drinking Chocolate the beverage was poured and I grabbed a chair before taking a sip.
Designated on the board as 72% Ecuadorian Chocolate in milk and cream yet somehow less bitter and more sweet/berry than I’d have expected perhaps this was a case where I expected too much – or perhaps a case where I was simply jaded – but the fact remains I’ve had much better both stateside (La Burdick and Christopher Elbow) and abroad (Jacques Genin,) though admittedly not for $2. A fine spot, but not nearly a ‘destination’ in a city with so many other great places to spend time, dollars, and calories.
Wrapping up some of the random bites before and after meals with ice cream (and intentionally trying to erase the memories of the abomination I tasted at Tillamook a few days prior – seriously, the cheese curds are good but between the Fireside S’mores and Caramel Butter Pecan ice cream I’m not sure which is the worst thing I’ve put in my mouth in 2013) a walk down Johnson Street would lead me to Cool Moon Ice Cream; a locally owned small batch ice cream store that I’d heard mixed things about but decided to visit anyhow largely because I was in the area. Natural and organic, made in-store, and focused on local ingredients with an egg-laced base rather than that of pure milk and cream I knew entering the store that the smallest size available would be the better part of valor and yet as I looked at the menu I knew some sampling would be in order – an act happily facilitated by a young Asian woman who more or less suggested I try everything before making my final selections – two scoops amongst the dozen I tasted including delicate dairy free chocolate sorbet and mandarin orange sorbet plus rich Coffee Crackle, Café Vesuvio, Birthday Cake, Horchata Cookie, and Thai Iced Tea ice creams plus others I’m sure I’ve forgotten.
Taking my $5 pair of scoops to a small table next to an elderly woman and her dog while I browsed a map of the Pearl District my proper selections began with a rather disappointing Salty Caramel that I selected largely because the young server seemed so sold on how ‘amazing’ it was despite the use of no corn syrup and while the texture was indeed quite nice the flavor was simply lacking – a taste that was not “caramel” but rather just “sweet,” like tasting ice cream base without any additions. Moving next to the a vastly superior second scoop, “Peanut Butter and Jelly” would up the ante substantially by providing the same outstanding custard texture but this time truly representing the flavors with rich curls of peanut butter in a flavorful grape base; the finish even featuring a slight yeasty note that completed the picture of a frozen peanut butter and jelly sandwich – a flavor I’d really never noted in an ice cream prior but would happily revisit.
For the last of my between-meal bites in Portland each of Salt & Straw’s locations would receive a visit – the location on 23rd just after 7:30am before my side trip to Seattle and the one on Alberta mere hours before I departed Portland en route for home…obviously I was impressed or I’d not have gone back, but beyond the quality and originality of the ice cream it was the service that impressed me most since I was literally taken aside at both places and given a spoon-by-spoon education on the shop and its ingredients regardless of whether there was a line (Alberta) or if I was the only person crazy enough to be eating ice cream at 7:30am in the middle of a storm.
Like much of the PDX Artisan scene the story at Salt & Straw begins with a single person whose idea bloomed into something entirely original and interesting by focusing on craft, quality, and organic local ingredients. Dedicated to the point of making their own chocolate, caramel, and certain baked items in house while incorporating ultra-high butterfat milk and interesting ingredients instead of simply making each flavor a sugar bomb or relying on additives the result of this “farm to cone” process is probably the creamiest ice cream I’ve ever tasted and with a density akin to gelato this is ice cream that eats like a meal, particularly the Malek’s signature flavors – a well culled collection matched by interesting seasonal flavors that change by the month.
Moving past waxing poetic and onto the flavors I’d be hard pressed to name all of the metal spoons I licked clean at Salt & Straw on either day, though particularly memorable options included Coffee and Bourbon, Pear with Blue Cheese, Strawberry Honey Balsamic with Black Pepper, and Chocolate Mole but when it came time to order three options proved to be la crème de la crème, on my first visit the Sea Salt with Caramel Ribbons and on my second a 2-scoop cup of Almond Brittle with Salted Ganache and Candycap Mushroom with Port.
Beginning first with the Sea Salt with Caramel Ribbons a common theme sat Salt & Straw was the complex balance of sweet and salty with expected flavors used in clever manners, in this case the base ice cream actually salty vanilla with the caramel so sumptuous and interwoven that the end result was like two layers twisted into perhaps the best “salty caramel” ice cream I’ve ever tasted – a bold assertion given my fondness for Toscanini’s, Jeni’s, Humphry Slocombe, and Sweet Rose Creamery – but one I’ll stand by until all four can be tasted side-by-side, and one only furthered by the quality of my other two selections as each were equally creamy, incredibly balanced, and beguiling in their ability to take savory ingredients and fold them into the rich starter with an end result a flavor entirely unique, the almond brittle almost ‘smoky’ on the palate and the candycap mushroom distinctly earthy but also leavened tasting; the end result when blended with port something like pancakes with syrup meets poached pears – definitely an eye opener and quite unlike anything I’d experienced before in an ice cream.
Until my sister suggested Seattle as a family vacation for late 2011 I hadn’t really given much thought to the Pacific Northwest as a destination and having checked off myriad great meals during that trip, as well as a visit to Vancouver to catch a game at Rogers Arena the only real “bucket list” item that remained on my list north of San Francisco seemed to be a concert at The Gorge – ideally Pearl Jam, Alice In Chains, or Soundgarden…or at least so I thought, until a GQ article detailing the bourgeoning Portland artisan food scene caught my eye one morning while jogging on treadmill and pollstar subsequently alerted me to a Soundgarden reunion tour.
Always one to plan…and plan…and plan a trip the following months featured a great deal of research and after much ado an agenda was hatched in the standard fashion; food first, concerts and sports second, museums and gardens third, and then the logistics of flight, cheap hotel, and car vs. public transport – the later three a ridiculous deal even before I learned of Oregon’s lack of sales tax…and was offered a free place to stay by the sister of a friend, a gracious offer I debated but eventually accepted and one that proved to be the best decision of the trip for any number of reasons including her location, knowledge of the area, love of food, and general (for lack of better word) awesomeness – a quality shared by many locals I would meet over the course of nine days and no less than 63 independent eateries, restaurants, coffee shops, and bakeries – the later two to be summarized below, and a collection that in-and-of-itself is enough to bring me back sooner rather than later, especially since the rest of the food scene (to be summarized later) is even better.
Having hopped off the plane and allocated my car in record time with only a light salad and some ultra peptide whey in my system after a morning run and flight from Phoenix food was a top priority on arrival and after grabbing breakfast at The Woodsman Tavern a few steps would take me to what I’d later find out was the original Stumptown Coffee on Division Street – a space I’d visit thrice during my stay largely due to location, but also the layout as the spacious back room was never crowded while the front-and-center bar served up drink after drink and the on-site roaster sat quietly in the back. Friendly and efficient, more than happy to discuss everything from beans to grinders to roasting techniques, I additionally enjoyed the atmosphere of this location more than the location at the ACE or the one on Belmont and while the standard Hair Bender Americano was good it was the Ethiopian Nano Challa that truly wowed, an intense cup with huge top notes of berry but a finish that tasted of cocoa and spice; the second best cup of coffee I had on the trip.
Continuing the coffee-only theme, a second stop en route to OMSI on a later day would take me to Water Avenue Coffee, a very cool looking space with on-site roasting, free wi-fi, and great beans but (at least during my visit) an unfortunate staff that fancies itself as cool as the location; the sort of baristas who give the job a bad name with their holier-than-thou attitude and excruciatingly slow preparations; the pour over especially, leading to a nearly fifteen minute wait for my 12oz El Toro Americano despite there being only two people in line before me. Admittedly a very good cup of coffee – rich and smooth with a sort of smoked chocolate finish and nearly zero acidity this was one of two coffees I purchased to take home and although best served as an espresso I’ve also found it to be quite excellent via siphon; less so in a press.
Next up, Oui Presse would prove to be the low-light of the coffee-centric portion of my trip – perhaps due to the fact that I visited only an hour before closing as I was killing time before dinner at Castagna, or perhaps because I’d gotten so used to the small batch hand roasted options elsewhere, but either way there was not really much to love about the overly roasted flavor of the Americano which I believe was from Stumptown, but either old or a blend I’m not familiar with, nor the snarky attitude of the clerk when I looked at him confusedly when he told me he “couldn’t” make a 12oz Americano – only 6oz or 10oz – something I hadn’t experienced anywhere else in the city. Taking into account the ample seating, secure wi-fi, and interesting selection of (purchase only) magazines I think Oui Presse could probably be a decent space and the food menu looked interesting but considering the quality of other local spots I’d probably only return if I was a local.
Moving finally to the last of the coffee-only spots on my list, and in this case saving the best for last, there really isn’t enough that I can say about Heart and the quality of their beans, staff, and products – all well-culled and excellent, a veritable best of the best where the roaster sits in plain view – often in use – and the staff is not only educated, but more than happy to discuss the craft of their trade. Having visited the store three times over the course of four days and sampling everything from a Stereo Blend Ameircano to a Ethiopian Yukro pour over to the Colombia Perla Del Sur via Aeropress it is not only the quality of the whole beans that shows, but also the exquisite roasting – easily exampled when you purchase the beans (most roasted the day prior) and examine them at home, smaller than the average, lighter than average, and just short of dry. More expensive than the other roasters in town but not quite as pricey as some of the best in San Francisco (Ritual, Four Barrel, and Blue Bottle come to mind) a full 12oz bag of Perla Del Sur and half a bad of Yukro both returned to Phoenix with me on 2/11 and thus far brewed via drip, press, pour over, and siphon there is really no way to go wrong; the Yukro especially is one of the most complex single origins I’ve ever tasted.
Unable to subsist on coffee alone, additional caffeine based stops also led to sampling some of Portland’s pastries; the majority sourced from local bakeries and patisseries I’d planned to visit anyhow, but one in particular doing a small bit of in-house baking truly worth going out of one’s way for – Courier Coffee, a small shop on SW Oak that could easily be missed by those not looking.
Small and compact, just a bar and a few chairs, the menu at Courier is hand-written (or painted on the store windows) and like many of Portland’s best the coffee is all hand roasted by the team, in this case a few miles away and a limited number of whole bean bags are available for purchase while all the standard drinks are made to order while you wait. Selecting a 12oz Americano – at a mere $2 one of the cheapest in town – along with both of the morning’s still-warm pastries the team was friendly and succinct, happy to chat but mindful of other customers waiting behind me, and with all seats filled I took a sip of the steaming hot brew and knew right away I’d be back for another as strong strawberry notes came across fading into a light caramel tone with a smooth and creamy body.
Moving next to the pastries, the first a canele I’d heard much about from a few trusted sources, I have to say that after a number of disappointing canele in a number cities this was the first of two superlative versions in Portland (the other being St. Jack) with a crunchy caramelized exterior giving way to an extraordinary custard sponge within. Golden and sweet with just a bit of rum and a whole lot of vanilla this was the sort of pastry where one wouldn’t suffice – a second, along with a double shot 16oz Americano, purchased the following day.
Onward to the second of two pastries, having asked how the daily muffin was and simultaneously told “amazing” by both baristas, the Local Yogurt, Oat and Blood Orange Muffin would indeed prove to be delicious and at $3 for an entirely organic muffin weighing in at probably 1/3 a pound and loaded with toothsome oats and tangy yogurt balanced by a lightly caramelized top plus the intensity of the citrus it would also prove to be quite the bargain – a pastry that could easily serve as breakfast for many and amongst the best textured muffins I’ve had in some time.
For the second of two coffee shops doing their own baking (but in this case not their own roasting) an unexpected rain storm before pizza at Apizza Scholls sent me to Common Grounds; an idea clearly shared by many as the store was chockablock full with only one open seat at the bar near the window. Procuring the space and asking an older gentleman to watch my bag while I placed my order I was greeted by a friendly young woman and having only intended to order an Americano she inquired “how about a cookie? They’re fresh and delicious,” – clearly a suggestion I’d be foolish to ignore and thus leading me to order two, the entirety of the order prepared in a few moments and carried back to my seat for a mere $5 after leaving a $1 tip in the jar.
Beginning first with the Americano, a 12oz single shot, I appreciated the nuttiness of the finish but not particularly the upfront acidity – a problem I’ve noted before with Café Vita and one mostly remedied by a packet of Splenda and immediately was thankful that there would be more to the experience than just the coffee – the first of those being a rich Molasses Cookie, still sticky from the oven and spicy but also substantially sweet…the sort of cookie one can (and I did) dunk in the coffee thereby benefitting both items.
Moving next to the larger of the two cookies, also $1, the “Cowboy Cookie” featuring the standard flour, butter, and sugar plus oats, nuts, coconut flakes, and chocolate chips would prove to be a step up from both the coffee and the Molasses in terms of both complexity and flavor – everything well balanced and although easily enough made at home a nice way to pass away some time during a rainstorm while browsing the net. Certainly not a ‘destination’ coffee house or bakery like so many others in PDX good enough in a pinch, and clearly a popular joint amongst locals.
Another day and another caffeine fix would feature the Ristretto Roasters location on North Williams Avenue, a spot I visited after breakfast at Tasty & Sons before a drive to the coast and with ample free parking in the area plus plenty of shops to browse I found the shop approximately half full on my 10:30am arrival, many of the patrons from nearby shops and the baristas not particularly hurried, happy to chat with guests both familiar and new as they prepared various beverages for a slowly trickling line.
Myself in the middle of Ristretto’s age range that day – not quite hipster and not quite the well suited older clients – I was interested to see how the servers changed up their mannerisms for each patron and greeted similar to the younger folks with a ‘what can I get ya, bro?’ I ordered up an Americano and pastries to take on my drive – the double shot of Beaumont blend in 16oz providing a huge nose of chocolate and a rich mouth feel with low acidity and a nearly vanilla finish; another great cup of coffee and one I would have purchased for home use if I did not already have three pounds from elsewhere.
Turning to the pastries, in this case all outsourced, my selection was a quartet with the first two from Bake Shop and the latter two from Tonalli’s Donuts. Beginning with those from Bake Shop, a store I unfortunately missed during my Portland trip as they were closed when I tried to visit, their oft raved Figgy Buckwheat Scone would prove to be decent, though not as good as I’d have hoped largely because of my expectations of what a scone should be; those lovely pockets of butter juxtaposing crunchy sugar when instead this was more like a biscuit in texture with a curl of dense fig preserves rolled in like a cinnamon roll. Rich and textural and savory over sweet it is definitely worth trying for those who fancy fig, but at least for me not as inspiring in execution as it is in concept.
Up next, the “Sweet and Salty” Cookie would prove to be another good-but-not-great option with rich notes of chocolate in the toothsome batter, but living in Phoenix and comparing this to La Grande Orange’s Chocolate Chip Sea salt cookie left me feeling a bit flat, though the roasted salty peanuts were admittedly a nice touch.
Onward to the donuts, obviously not as hot as they would have been (and would prove to be later) direct from the source, I opted for two of my all-time favorite old fashioned options and was pleased to find the blueberry cake option as good as those I remember from my childhood while the buttermilk bar was without a doubt the best I’ve ever tasted – a better cake donut than the buttermilk stack (and 1/2 the price) at Doughnut Vault or The Donut Man, loaded with a slight tang from the buttermilk and pillowy soft despite being a cake donut…it was so good that I ordered a second approximately a week later when I visited Tonalli’s flagship and that time requesting one of the fresh warm ones from it proved even better; a seemingly impossible task but one I’d suggest anyone check out for themselves – or simply get to Ristritto early enough in the morning to get one fresh there…the lady at Tonalli’s tells me they deliver them just before the store opens at 6:30am.
…and speaking of Tonalli’s, a brief interlude before I get back to the coffee part of this blog (and before I cover the rest of the donuts,) I will simply say a few brief words about the small mom n’ pop shop on Alberta. #1) The prices are ridiculously low compared to similar spots in Portland and other major cities. #2) The servers are smiling, friendly, and astoundingly efficient even when the lines are long. #3) As previously mentioned, the buttermilk bar is a reference standard example… #4) The Blueberry fritter is even better, a crispy lacquered shell of glaze over toasty fried bits bursting with blueberries and soft wisps of dough within. Tonalli’s was my last taste of Portland (for now,) and although the coffee is acrid and weak while the ice cream seems rather pedestrian, that shouldn’t stop anyone who loves cake donuts from stopping by for their fix – particularly as a quick walk down the street can land you are Barista for an Americano and Salt & Straw for some of the best ice cream in America within minutes.
And finally, having mentioned Barista above, the last but not least amongst the coffee-first places on my list would be the location on Alberta – a large, bohemian looking sort of coffee house featuring heavy woods, animal heads, and both beans and brewing equipment from some of the country’s best – not to mention an ample morning selection of pastries from Nuvrei downtown. A surprisingly boisterous space at most times of the day, particularly early morning (I visited twice,) both of my visits consisted of me first browsing the fresh roasted beans from roasters such as Heart, Verve, Stumptown, and Kochere and then ordering a 12oz Americano brewed with Verve’s Ethiopian “The Sermon,” a rich blend with a lot of jam and a bit of chocolate that, although not a local roaster (California,) was still excellent.
With coffee ordered twice, it was only during my first visit – an early Sunday morning while waiting for Ned Ludd to open – that I decided to indulge in the pastries and with half a dozen selections available I opted for two, my standard almond croissant and a wild berry brioche, both from Nuvrei – the former a lackluster and soft sugarbomb loaded with far too much frangipane and powdered sugar that was only saved from the wastebasket by the richness of the coffee while the later was actually quite excellent, the only truly impressive option I’d taste from Nuvrei with a dense egg bread with a crisp and golden exterior holding a custard-like center loaded with subtle intrinsic sweetness and ripe, bursting berries bleeding deep into the core; excellent in flavor and in texture, though probably best shared given its heft. All-in-all a trendy place to be sure – hipster even – Barista is a decent enough shop, but for my money I’d sooner support a true local roaster and a place serving better pastry; Ristretto with Tonalli’s and Bake Shop, Courier with their Canele, and Stumptown with Little T all come to mind…and if you want Heart beans they are $1 cheaper per 12oz bag at the flagship.
Noting my previous experience with Nuvrei while at Barista on Alberta it was with mixed feelings that I entered their far-too-cutesy shop downtown and having already enjoyed a nice brunch and other quality pastries with substantial plans for dinner I decided to let my first few selections dictate whether I would order more – a good choice on my part both for the sake of cost and capacity but also for quality as my choice of two Macarons and a canele would prove to be average at best, the “Framboise – Oregon Raspberry” option featuring a gummy shell with an admittedly wonderful raspberry jam within and the “Caramel au beurre sale with fleur de sel” a nice blend of sweet and salty flavors but again lacking any crackle to the shell while the interior was almost “Sugar Daddy” sticky.
Moving next to the canele, and having already had a superlative version at Courier, I found myself with mixed feelings of the version at Nuvrei largely because it was a bit overcooked – both the shell and the first few centimeters of the interior holding up admirably to the tooth while only the dead-center was the expected custard sponge. Sweeter than the average and seemingly lacking any rum, instead focusing on fresh notes of vanilla I couldn’t help but think of this as an “Americanized” take on the Bordeaux classic – a suspicion that, in retrospect, seemed to plague all of Nuvrei’s overly sweet and off-textured options (save for the berry brioche – something I guess I never really saw in Paris either, but definitely loved at Nuvrei.)
Keeping with the French theme and starting with Little T, as mentioned with regard to their selection at Stumptown, another morning would take me past their spacious shop while window shopping (and shopping) the stores between Broder and Pok-Pok and without hesitation the smell of butter and vanilla drew me in. A nice space, all straight lines, light woods, and steel counters with a staff of at least four doing everything from bussing tables to making lattes to doling out baked goods while the bakers worked fervently in the kitchen.
Stepping up to the counter and greeted by the only employee who seemed less-than-thrilled with her job and browsing the selections I received largely one-word answers and after asking a question about proofing the croissants that she clearly had no answer to I simply ordered; 4 selections and only one a ‘traditional’ pastry in the French formal sense, that one without a doubt the best kouign amann I tasted in Portland – the shattering shell and hundreds of buttery layers all delicately sweet yet also tinged with a slight saltiness that reminded me of the versions in Paris; a high standard only to be surpassed a few days later at Seattle’s Crumble and Flake – the best kouign amann I’ve had anywhere.
Moving on to the French influenced American options and American touched French options, the former was listed as a Baked Currant Donut and as much as I like donuts and currants (and even baked donuts such as those at LA’s ‘fonuts’) I just could not get past the bready texture of this option; a mouthfeel like chewing on a 99 cent for six hamburger bun that was a couple days old. Slightly less disappointing, and entirely different, would be the chocolate praline croissant – essentially a butter roll in without any crackle to the shell but a decent wispiness to the interior and a lot of high quality chocolate with light nutty tones beneath. Decent, but texturally akin to the croissant you’d buy as a “croissanwich” somewhere and a conundrum for me since the crackle of the kouign amann had turned out so well.
Moving last to perhaps the most ‘interesting’ option on the Little T menu, an item titled ‘Chocolate Hazelnut Roll’ would turn the tables back in favor of a possible return visit to the bakery – the light spiral bun something like a bearclaw in texture with bright cocoa notes melding seamlessly with a thick house-ground sweetened hazelnut paste. Difficult to describe as it clearly pulls together a number of influences yet easy to love it was essentially portable baked Nutella; a must order alongside the kouign amann.
Another day, this one the morning of my road trip to Seattle, would see me at St. Honore on Thurman Street and with French Flags flying both outside and within I entered the boulangerie with high hopes – hopes bolstered by a space nearly full to capacity despite the time being 9:00am on a Wednesday. Large and rustic with granite tables, woven seats, and wood beams exposed plus bakers dressed in white aprons and caps similar to those seen in Parisian patisseries overseeing the production of an ample selection of breads, sandwiches, entrements, and pastries it seemed at first glance that St. Honore would be the sort of place I’d love and yet from my first encounter with the monotone server to the part where I had to wait fifteen minutes for their signature pastry to be plucked from a case and placed in a box the experience was less than ideal.
Moving past service issues and the dreadful logistics of parking, the four selections from St. Honore ranged from decent to exemplary and beginning low working towards high this started with another lackluster Almond Croissant – something I found quite common in Portland – this one with an excellent crunch to the shell but enough frangipane that it essentially constituted frosting, turning the interior into a sort of sweet pudding and negating any semblance of nuance; something I hope the local pigeons didn’t mind when I left more than half on the street.
Moving next to a pair of my favorites, both decent but neither astounding, a canele de Bordeaux would prove to be a bit too soggy, though nicely flavored, while the kouign amann was actually textbook in texture – the layers all nicely separated and shattering to the tooth – but a bit too sweet, thus hiding the butter tones of an otherwise fine attempt.
Finally, and perhaps most appropriately, the last bites of St. Honore would come in the form of a picture perfect St. Honore – each of the lacquered choux balls filled with creamy custard, the base layer flaky and topped with fresh whipped cream, and buttery tones deftly balanced against the sweetness. Texturally compelling and one of the best I’ve had stateside this is a ‘destination’ pastry for a trip to Portland even if there are better (much better) versions of the rest of their goods to be found elsewhere in town.
With St. Honore my last stop before departing Portland for Seattle the first stop on my return would be an unplanned visit to Pearl Bakery, a visit prompted by a text message from the young lady with whom I was staying suggesting that the small shop’s bouchon was “the most lovely and amazing breakfast food I know…a dense but oddly light and crumbly (though not dry) rich chocolate muffin/pastry/cake/treat” – tough words to argue with; particularly from anyone suggesting that the riff on Thomas Keller’s classic pastry was a ‘breakfast food’ and even moreso after a three hour drive on the I-5.
Clearly a spot that I’d read about (like most of Portland, actually) yet one that for whatever reason had missed the final cut, our arrival at Pearl Bakery began by allocating parking and having had trouble with that aspect of the Pearl District in the past we were fortunate to find a spot just down the block and subsequently making our way into the wood and tile space I knew right away that the story would not begin and end with a Bouchon – the eventual order constituting a quintet of selections varying from interesting to good to excellent; the bouchon every bit as good as the versions in Yountville, New York, Los Angeles, and Las Vegas…and possibly even better given the larger size and rough cut chocolate with a bit higher moisture content than I recall forcing me to wonder if they are using something other than Valrhona.
Moving on to the other options, a selection running the gamut from sweet to savory and Italian and French to American the oft raved Gibassier would prove to be the only dud of the late morning not because it was poorly done, but largely because it simply didn’t fit either of our palates – the sugared bread a sort of focaccia texture rife with anise and orange peel – and leaving half of this to the birds we moved onto the crunchy-gives-way-to-sweet Sicilian fig cookie, a dense and buttery cinnamon bun, and finally an impressively subtle pistachio croissant that defiantly managed to be more savory than sweet by utilizing toasted pistachios and a bit of salt with minimal sugar to highlight the crispy choux without overwhelming the intrinsic yeasty notes; a great accomplishment that may not fit every palate but for myself the best croissant I found in PDX and reason enough, along with the bouchon, to warrant a visit to Pearl Bakery.
Another well regarded space with French pastry at its core was visited the day following Pearl (incidentally a few days after a less-than-impressive visit to the equally eponymous pizzeria) and although the line was long, parking hellacious, and seating 75% full Ken’s Artisan Bakery proved to be quite average in every aspect save for two things; the over-inflated prices and one unique and truly delicious item.
Beginning first with the location, a corner spot on NW 21st, just assume that you’ll be driving in circles for a while unless you want to walk, something I did from 5 blocks away – and once you’re in the shop expect to be rushed through your decisions as there is a single line, a single clerk, a single cashier, and not nearly enough room thus leading to you handing the cashier your money and getting out of the way until your order is readied. Not a fan of crowded or pushy spaces and taking some items home to share with my friend I think I spent a total of 5 minutes inside Ken’s before landing back on the street with my bag of five items walking back to the car.
At this point still looking for a high quality almond croissant in Portland I’d again meet with no luck at Ken’s – a $3 waste of calories and cash with decent exterior crunch yet enough pasty almond filling to qualify as a twinkie and following this up with the worst canele of the trip – a texture more cupcake than crunch with an interior more sponge than custard – it was only reasonable that things would get better with what followed.
Having returned to my friend’s place with the rest of the bounty, including half of the almond cream puff…er…croissant, further tastes of Ken’s would feature a decent Salted Caramel Coffee Macaron with a crisp shell but slightly gummy filling whose flavor approximated a caramel macchiato followed by a tightly wound and densely glazed pecan cinnamon roll that made up for what it lacked in yeasty rise with plenty of sweetness and a pleasant texture added by what can best be described as a smoky pralines between the layers.
Saving the best *by far* for last, Ken’s celebrated “Oregon Croissant” proved to be every bit as good as some have said – the amalgam of Marionberries and hazelnuts in a creamy layer poured atop the flaky pastry prior to baking and thus bubbling up like a Danish with a base like a croissant. Somehow far less ‘doughy’ than the almond croissant despite the creamy topping and speckled with pearl sugar for extra crunch this was yet another example of a Portland bakery doing one thing very right (much like the St. Honore at St. Honore, or the Wildberry Brioche at Nuvrei) while everything else lagged far behind – a trend I saw time and again in varying degrees until the very last day of my trip…
…at St. Jack, a pre-brunch stop I’d originally targeted as a dinner (and will certainly visit during my next trip to PDX,) where I arrived at only a few minutes after they opened the doors to the patisserie and instantly fell in love with the elegant space, the lovely service, and most of all the fresh morning pastries arriving warm from the kitchen; each of three options I ordered a spot on translation of the versions being served in France and the first, a double baked almond croissant, the only good almond croissant I found during this trip with a perfect crunch, subtle sweetness, and the almond a glossy topping rather than an overwhelmingly sweet paste or filling.
Next up, a canele, in this case still piping hot as if just released from the mold, my tastebuds were met with a great exterior crunch with just a light touch of butter followed by a creamy interior loaded with notes of dark rum and rich vanilla – a taste that necessitated purchasing a second and one that I would love to taste blindly alongside that from Courier to see if I could distinguish a ‘winner,’ though both trump any that I’ve had elsewhere except perhaps B.Patisserie in San Francisco.
Last but not least – and in this case truly baked to order – my last bites of St. Jack would be a $4 bag of a dozen Madelines, each small and dainty, faintly lemon and just a bit sweet…better than those served at the end of many Michelin Starred meals and every bit worth the wait, particularly given the cosy environs and other options to sample while you wait; I can only assume Proust would have been happy; I know I was…and if I lived locally I know I’d be back for more soon.
From French influenced to the creativity of Belgium sporting ‘a Portland twist’ a quick stop at The Waffle Window – yes indeed, a window that serves Liege waffles – would prove to be another inspired decision during my visit to Rip City. Small and shockingly without a line during my visit despite the warm weather I approached the window not exactly sure what to expect but greeted by a friendly gentleman who handed me a menu I stepped back and perused the option for a moment, allowing a mother and her children to place their order, and taking their cue I opted for the same toppings as two of the three and stepped to the side chatting with the woman while we all waited a few minutes for our selections to arrive.
Having chosen the “Bananarumba,” a $4.50 choice described to me as their most popular item, what arrived to me in a Styrofoam clamshell would prove to be an impressive deal as the dense Liege Waffle – caramelized, yeasty, and perfect – was topped with a whole ripe banana, house made banana infused caramel, local granola, and fresh whipped cream. Sweet and rich yet neither cloying nor heavy I’d go so far as to say this was a nearly perfect dish – the only thing that may have made it better was ice cream – and had I more time and a less aggressive eating agenda I’d have loved to return to try the seasonal apple pie version or the blueberry cheesecake option.
Taking a decidedly American turn for the rest of my Portland baked goods, a “just because it was there” stop one morning took me to Lauretta Jeans…okay, that is a lie, what took me there was the smell of apples and cinnamon permeating the air as I walked by just after 8am en route to Broder having dropped off my car near Pok-Pok as I’d be dining there for lunch. A small shop I’d come across in my research I figured it certainly wouldn’t hurt to stop in and look, though obviously in the back of my mind I knew there was a good chance I’d end up buying something – or a few somethings – though I just as easily could have tried a dozen options and skipped Broder all together as everything at Lauretta Jeans looked impressive – and who am I to reject pie for breakfast when all the cool kids in Chicago and New York are doing it?
Greeted by a friendly young man who seemed a bit bored when I arrived and who was happy to chat about the ingredients and baking at LJ’s it would not be long before I found myself placing an order for a duo of items – the first presented right away and the other suggested to be better warm, a couple minutes wait as I took my Blueberry scone to the window to enjoy the mellow pockets of butter, sweet chunks of sugar, and intense swirl of fresh berries; a textbook scone that needed no cream at all, and a sign of things to come moments later in the form of a $4 slice of Heirloom Apple Pie with a rich, buttery double crust housing crispy apples and plenty of cinnamon with no starch or filler and minimal sugar; a nearly savory apple pie that rivals those served in Amish country…my only regret being that I didn’t order it with cheese…something I’d have most certainly done if it were 8pm instead of twelve hours earlier.
Another pie stop would occur under equally serendipitous circumstances nearly five days and thirteen hours after my visit to Lauretta Jeans when I was again walking, this time back to my friend’s home from dinner at Castagna, and again smelled cinnamon and apples in the air…and in this case it was not from a place I’d heard of, nor anyplace brick n’ mortar but rather a food truck set up across from Lardo entitled “Whiffies Pies” where fried hand pies are the order of the day and two choices spoke to me immediately, each $4 and served by a girl no older than twenty who was studying from a thick textbook as I approached.
Paying the modest tab plus a $2 tip largely because I cannot fathom how boring it must be to sit in a food-truck all night and told it would be “a few minutes” before things were ready I took to wandering the food-truck lot and although spots like Potato Champion caught my interest I showed restraint (there is always next time) and returning to Whiffies I found my pies ready to go, piping hot and wrapped in foil – the aforementioned apple version a good balance of crispy Granny Smiths packed into a dough that reminded me of childhood apple pies at McDonalds in terms of texture yet far less greasy with a nice balance of flaky and salty to compliment the apples, but not quite sweet enough to satisfy my craving thus making the second choice an admittedly gluttonous choice, but a great one as well as the pairing of Peanut Butter and Chocolate Chips was essentially the flavor of melted Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups packed in a flaky shell – the molten mass too hot to eat for nearly the first mile of my walk but afterwards truly satisfying in that ‘late-night-junk/drunk-food’ kind of way.
Shifting finally to the most American of all the pastries on this tour – yes, more American than Apple Pie – three more stops in addition to Toranni’s (and Mighty O and The Original Bakery in Seattle) for deep fried dough would start at perhaps Portland’s most well-known food stop – the controversially famous Voodoo Doughnuts; home of the Pink Box, long lines, and twenty-four hours of bizarre treats, tourists, drunks, locals, and vagrants alike – for a city that wears “Keep Portland Weird!” as a badge of honor there is perhaps no place (save for Tanuki and the 24-hour Church of Elvis) that fits the mantra so well.
Having mentioned the ‘controversy’ of their fame, what I’m referring to is a sort of divide amongst ‘foodies’ and ‘gourmands’ – tourists and locals, some acting as though these donuts transcend simple fried sugar and flour while others deem them simply a case of good marketing and while I personally spent enough time wandering 3rd Street to skip the place when there was a line I’ll start off saying there is some truth to both sides of the coin…no, these are not worth waiting thirty minutes to an hour for, but at the same time I did visit twice during my stay and both times found the products to be enjoyable if not life altering.
Bearing in mind my visits, one at 7:00am and one around 2:00pm, were both on weekdays when the space was largely unpopulated I’ll start off by saying the staff was uniformly pleasant, though equally pierced and inked, and given the size of the menu they were happy to await my order provided I did not obstruct traffic – the first time selecting a half dozen options and the second a pair; plus another one ten minutes later when I returned with a partially eaten “Ain’t That a Peach Fritter” with a raw interior that was easily exchanged for an alternative. Nine donuts in total and only one (…because really, aside from being undercooked even the peach was good) less than good while four were actually quite impressive my selections ran the gamut from raised to cake and filled to fritter while my sharing of selections ranged from a pair of vagrants to new friends in Seattle as well as the one I was staying with in Portland.
Starting off with the only donut that was really not good at all, the signature “Voodoo Doll” was indeed as clever as it seems but with far too much frosting and a filling rife with high fructose corn syrup I was happy to share this one with a young homeless man in a Dinosaur Jr. shirt outside the store and although the equally famous Maple Bacon Bar was far superior to the Doll, it was no better than versions elsewhere (and not even close to the one at Blue Star just down the street or Nord’s in St. Louis) and thus this one was shared with the same fellow as well.
Moving next to two of the more obscure selections purchased during my first visit, the last of my raised selections was the “ODB” – a yeasty donut with thick chocolate frosting, crushed Oreo’s, and a drizzle of peanut butter that I polished off quickly and moving next to the “Memphis Mafia” I’ll simply say that this fritter alone should be enough to silence the haters as the nearly 1lb combination of fried dough, sugar, cinnamon, bananas, peanut butter, chocolate icing, peanuts, and chocolate chips is about as close as an item has ever come to being ‘over the top’ yet deliriously enjoyable in my experience…right up there with Martin Picard’s Plogue à Champlain at Au Pied de Cochon in terms of both audacity and taste (and probably calories as well.)
Next up, two cake options would both prove to be good – the first a standard Blueberry Cake doughnut with great texture, light glaze, and plenty of berries – then the “Tangfastic,” a veritable creamsicle disguised as a donut featuring a dense cake doughnut with an excellent toothsomeness topped with rich vanilla frosting, a dusting of tang, and a trio of marshmallows; nothing upscale, just delicious in the same manner as those Flinstones Push-Pops of my childhood, or perhaps those orange Hostess cupcakes that everyone hated, but I loved.
Rounding out the list, a trio of fritters including the aforementioned Peach topped with cream cheese frosting, its replacement in the form of a Pumpkin Chocolate Fritter, and a traditional Apple Fritter would all prove to be quite good, save for the undercooked part, and while the flavor profile was probably tilted a bit too far towards the sweet on all three each was packed with fruit and easily shared amongst two or three – a pro or a con depending on how you look at it, and all but the Apple version was something I’d never seen before so points for creativity are also due even if they were not quite on par with the superlative fritter at Blue Star (or The Donut Man, or Old Fashioned for those keeping tabs on my ever growing mental list.)
Another day and another donut, the last fried rounds of my trip would take me to Coco Donuts – the NE Broadway location, and apparently the newest of three locations. A cute shop with a lot of pink, reclaimed wood, news papers, and plenty of seating it seemed almost like a cupcake shop more than a donut store but nonetheless selling both raised and cake options as well as fritters and filled I perused the options before a very pleasant middle aged gentleman finished helping another customer and provided me with his opinions; a man of my own tastes suggesting I sample “a variety,” but particularly the house-favorite Cinnamon Crumble – a very well crafted cake donut topped with buttery cinnamon streusel that far outshined its humble ingredients in taste and texture, particularly as it was served warm.
Continuing with the rest, my other four choices from Coco would consist of the standards, though each would fall a bit short for one reason or another, the raised and glazed a bit too doughy, the buttermilk bar excellent in texture but deplete in the expected sour notes, and the apple fritter not really anything like a fritter in terms of texture – instead more like a raised yeast donut with a light compliment of apples and cinnamon; wispy and without any crunch it was admittedly only $1.50 but even at that price a goodly amount went unfinished; an offering to the pigeons saving room for other things…basically the apple and blueberry fritters at Tonalli’s later that day.
…and saving the best for last, let me just say that while I’m by no means an “expert” I have traveled enough and – given my substantial sweet tooth – tried enough donuts to know what I like…and I absolutely loved Blue Star Donuts; a relatively new spot on Washington Street downtown; as a matter of fact I loved it so much that I made nearly half a dozen visits during my seven days in Portland.
A large and open space where every aspect of production can be witnessed both inside the store and through the floor to ceiling windows from the street Blue Star is the brainchild of Chef Stephanie Donlan as well as owner Katie Camden and featuring a rich brioche dough recipe as opposed to traditional cake or yeast-raised options more commonly found in the United States each of the selections at Blue Star is dense and flavorful even before the addition of toppings or fillings; for those familiar the beignets at Thomas Keller’s Bouchon or the doughnuts at Dough in Brooklyn are about as close an approximation as I can muster but all things being equal neither of them are even close to Blue Star in terms of pillowy texture…or quality of toppings.
Noting my frequent visits to Blue Star the main reason for this was not solely the quality of the donuts, but rather the rotating list of options – some staples available all the time and some only appearing once during my stay – and beginning first with the most simple, a Raised Glazed option on the first day of my visit proved plenty an impetus to influence my frequent returns; the rich and eggy dough puffed into a sort of wispy pillow lightly sweetened and yeasty – a perfect delivery system for the light glaze, a sort of rice milk flavored lacquer that was neither bland nor overly sweet. Great on its own and even better as a backdrop to perhaps Blue Star’s most talked about selection, the Fried Chicken Donut (complete with forks and hot sauce,) the only ‘plain’ donut I’ve found that rivals Blue Star is at Chicago’s Doughnut Vault.
Continuing towards more creative options, three filled options featured at Blue Star included Crème Brulee, Peanut Butter and Jelly, and finally Valrhona Chocolate Crunch and although I’d be hard pressed to decide which was ‘best,’ I’d suggest that all three are well worth the cost and calories; the first two featuring a caramelized glaze – one truly crème brulee in flavor and the other grape overlying light peanut butter cream – while the third is topped with crunchy chocolate spheres that serve an impressive textural counterpoint to the rich, creamy interior.
Largely ignoring an unmemorable slice of Banana Bread Pudding that was decent, albeit a bit bland and too homogenous in texture aside from the crunchy caramel top, and getting back to the donut side of things a quartet of raised brioche offerings would follow with flavors including Blueberry/Bourbon/Basil, Real Maple and Bacon, Dulce De Leche with Hazelnut, and finally S’Mores – each featuring the same excellent texture as the raised glazed option but each with a distinctive topping serving notice that this was not your typical donut. From the fruity herbal balance of the blueberry selection and the intense sweetness of the maple and briny bacon to the nearly peanut brittle flavor of the dulce de leche and rich chocolate smokiness of the chocolate and toasted marshmallows the key to each selection was balance – the flavors all there, but none overwhelming the others…
…and yet none of these options, save perhaps for the Peanut Butter and Jelly, comes close to the ‘wow’ factor of the fritter; in this case a “Hard Apple Cider” Fritter with the exterior crunchy and sweet while the innards were rife with apples and cinnamon plus that slightly fermented taste of fall. All pull-apart delicious, just as a good fritter should be, and literally melting in the mouth due to the butter content of both the brioche and the cooked apples this is a fritter to rival the best of them, and at $2.50 I even threw in two quarters to pick up some house made “doggie donuts” for my friend’s pet, a cute touch from what I firmly believe to be one of the best donut shops in the country and hands down the best in Portland.
Given my affinity for handmade pastas and pretty much anything cooked in a wood-burning oven plus a a memorable meal with my family at ‘All Angelo (RIP) a reservation at Ori Menashe’s Arts district hot-spot, Bestia, was secured even before it received a glowing recommendation the night before by the team at Alma; a four top at the late hour of 9pm for myself and two friends, and as excited as I was for the meal a part in the back of my mind knew that eating after eight would be limiting to my early rising self – a situation I decided to remedy with some Red Medicine at six, after a long afternoon wandering Santa Monica Beach until sunset.
Bearing in mind my seminal visit to Jordan Kahn’s Beverly Hills locale some year and a half prior (http://endoedibles.com/?p=1395) I’ll simply state that not much has changed since my first visit – the room is still loud, the servers still hip, and the food still beautiful…as a matter of fact, the only thing that had changed was the menu; a good thing as I’d not feel obligated to reorder the porridge, but a bad thing in that no less than 10 items sounded fantastic. Seated for mere moments before my server, the first of two Jesse’s that evening, arrived to fill water I set my resolve to only order three dishes plus a drink and requesting both dessert and savory menus at the same time I subsequently spent the next fifteen minutes trying to decide how I’d stick to my original plan; no small feat, but one assisted by my server and his female colleague who independently recommended the same savory while I went with the two desserts I’d not yet tried.
Beginning first with a beverage, Rhum Barbancourt arrived after perhaps fifteen minutes and although perhaps better suited for a winter night in Ohio than a dinner pairing in So.Cal the combination of 8 year old rum, Hot Water, Sugar, Beurre d’Echire, and Sea Salt with Nutmeg was without a doubt the drink that all hot buttered rum should aspire to be – the creamy mouthfeel and hefty spices proving an ample foil to the rum while a light sweetness lingered on the finish. Again, not the best pairing with my menu selections but I wasn’t about to quibble as it went down smooth and far too fast, only a sip remaining when my savory course arrived.
Moving from drink to food, unabashedly in love with the congee/porridge during my first visit I inquired about Kahn’s current grain-based dish and met with raves from both servers placed my order, the plate arriving and finished tableside entitled “Toasted Grains” featuring rice, quinoa, faro, and spelt paired with mushroom pudding, egg yolk, charred onions, sprouts, matsutake mushrooms, and more bathed in ‘Aromatic Duck Broth infused with smoked tea, hazelnut, and malt’ – the entirety of the dish earthy and aromatic, diverse in texture yet shockingly subtle.
Reading my pacing admirably and collecting my plate before I considered licking it clean it would not be long before the first of my dessert courses would arrive and coming on the strong recommendations of a friend “Birch Ice” would not disappoint, even if the first attempted delivery led to a shattered disc lying on the table before me. Again neatly conceptualized and served in a large fishbowl with an almond praline acting as a ‘lid’ to be shattered into the composition the contents of the dish featured whole red currants and red currant gel, jasmine cream, orange blossom “bubbles”, and birch ice cream – each a distinct texture and flavor with strong aromatics juxtaposing notes of sugar and savory, soft meeting crunchy head on, and tons of inspiration – a truly beautiful dish showcasing Kahn’s pastry pedigree.
Last, and certainly not least, my second dessert of the evening was listed on the menu as “Milk Chocolate Cream – In the Japanese Method, Crispy Devil’s Food, Cucumber, Buckwheat, Lovage,” but what I received could best be described as the brightest and most intricate spin on a Snickers bar ever assembled. Beginning first with a wiry chocolate cylinder encasing Japanese milk chocolate ganache, almond, and buckwheat plus a vegetal amalgam of lovage, cucumber, nasturtium, and more each flavor served to highlight and meld the others into something at once sweet and slightly peppery but at the same time cool and nutty, the cucumber a linger on the palate while the chocolate and almond came to the fore.
Content but not full and enjoying the music I was left with the bill to linger as long as I liked and with the restaurant less than half full approaching 7:30 I spent some time chatting with my servers before settling the tab and making my way to the street en route for Bestia. Living only 5 hours from Los Angeles now I knew I’d be back to Red Medicine soon…I just didn’t realize I’d be back at 1:00am that evening to pick up my forgotten camera which the staff had conveniently placed at the hostess stand…the restaurant still at least half full, just as (in my opinion) the best restaurant in the city should be.
Moving on to dinner number two, the space even louder despite being twice the size and parking even more difficult despite its location, I arrived at Bestia early to find one of my friends already arrived while the other followed shortly; the three of us standing in the bar after checking in and being told our table would be readied in a few moments. Having already perused the online menu and finding only a few changes to the daily offerings I had in mind the things that interested me most and yet given the late hour I knew my capacity would be limited…both for food, and for photography given my missing camera; both situations my pals were happy to assist with.
Finally seated approximately ten minutes after our 9:00pm reservation, unfortunately near the bar yet fortunately with a direct view of the large kitchen it would not be long before my second Jesse of the evening would greet us with menus and weighing our appetites and his suggestions we ordered when he returned with our water; a drink for each of my friends and eight savory plates to be shared – an order Jesse noted to be “ample, but not too much, assuming you are hungry,” and with that he left us to chat and take in the large, open room with exposed ceilings, lots of brick, and plenty of wood abuzz with a full house of patrons and enough noise to be loud without being annoying or forcing you to yell in order to be heard.
With drinks in hand it would not be long before plates would begin arriving and despite the crowd I was very impressed by not only the timing of service, but also the thoroughness and elegance of each presentation, beginning first with the house Margherita Pizza and Roasted Marrow Bone with spinach gnochetti, dehydrated olives, crispy bread crumbs, and aged balsamic. Apologizing now for the quality of the pictures but starting with the pizza I must say that my first bites of Bestia’s food were not the revelation I expected – the pizza featuring a decent amount of char and bubble but the crust generally lacking flavor while the sauce was tomato but little else; a decent pie but not worth the stomach capacity with so much else to come.
Onto the marrow, generally not something I rush to order but appealing in this instance for the gnocchetti, it would prove unfortunate that the second plate of the night was equally flawed as the pizza – yet in an entirely different manner. Creamy and rich, nicely presented, and with a bold flavor profile of saline topnotes from the olives and the sweet finish of Balsamic it was actually the texture here that lacked as the breadcrumbs were largely undetectable while the dumplings were too soft, the entirety of the dish simply too mushy for my tastes; something that could have been circumvented with a rougher cut to the crumbs or perhaps a bit less time in the water for the pasta.
Stepping up from our first two dishes, Menashe’s oft raved Salumi Board arrived next – a “half portion” of superlative house cured meats more than enough to share amongst 3 or 4. Beginning first with an intense Black Pepper Salami and moving through Lomo, Coppa, and finally a Lamb Neck and Pork Belly Terrine topped with Horseradish cream each of the meats was bold and assertive while a side of grilled bread and accoutrements of Pickled Pears and Fennel, plus Green Goddess Moustard provided some much needed levity between bites. One of the better charcuterie boards in recent memory another great aspect of this dish was abided by our seat, where we watched the team assemble no less than twenty of these plates, each with the same great care as you’d expect of a cooked dish in the kitchen.
Close on the heels of the charcuterie was more meat and bread, this one the intensely mineral chicken liver crostino with Aged Balsamic and Sea Salt. Rough cut and paired with crusty bread this was more or less everything you could want from a restaurant unable to serve foie gras – rich and heavy, another good dish to share.
Heading into our main reason for visiting Bestia in the first place, again perfectly placed just as we were finishing the last of the meats, the first of two pasta duos would arrive – a pairing of Tagliolini al’Ortica and Fusilli Lunghi al Sugo di Agnello. Beginning first with the Tagliolini, a composition of hand cut stinging nettle pasta, mushroom ragu, and a poached egg with porcini bread crumbs, this would prove to be the only disappointment of the pastas largely because (much like the marrow) while the flavors were all impressive, the texture was sorely lacking – mushy pasta and textureless breadcrumbs but flavors rich with earthy aromatics.
Moving next to the Fusilli, where the Tagliolini lacked this one made up in spades with hand rolled pistachio pasta perfectly al dente and topped with a rich ragu of smoky braised lamb, crunchy gives way to creamy ricotta salata, and top notes of pistachio oil unlike anything I’d have expected – an aromatic every bit as potent as truffle oil and the textures of the dish all distinct yet the entirety of the plate melding nicely.
Kicking off our second pasta duo, two more pastas every bit as good as the Fusilli, the combination of Cavatelli alla Norcina with Ricotta Dumplings, Pork Sausage, Black Truffle, and Grana Padano plus Spagetti Chitarra with Scallops, Calamari, Wild Fennel Pollen, and Chili Fennel Sofritto arrived; both plates rife with aromatics and lightly dressed with their respective sauces; the former actually leading one of my dining partners to wipe/scrape/mop the plate so clean that I’m rather certain it returned to the kitchen spotless.
With everyone quite full, myself perhaps most of all, and the hour pushing 11pm (plus the drive back to Red Medicine to retrieve my camera) dessert was a questionable decision for my friends but having heard nothing but raves of two of the sweets we ordered them both; one good, the other an early contender for my year’s top-10. Beginning first with the good, “Coffee and Donuts” seemed a safe option and indeed it was, the Spiced Chestnut Zeppole a bit more dense than I’d have preferred but not a bit oily and nicely paired with whipped cream and coffee gelato, the smoky chestnut notes adding an interesting savory component to an otherwise sweet dish.
Moving next to the second dessert – one every bit as good as the rumors – the Valrhona bittersweet chocolate budino tart with salted caramel, cacao crust, olive oil, and sea salt was more or less everything I love in a dessert; the chocolate pudding intense and smooth, the crust even darker and more concentrated, yet the whole composition brought into focus by the sweet caramel and an ample shake of crunchy salt plus a light drizzle of quality olive oil providing a slightly grassy finish; a perfect dish that my friends found almost too rich, thus forcing me to finish off the last bite for fear of leaving any return to the kitchen.
Settling the bill (less than $50/pp after tax and tip) and bidding our farewells, my friends back to work the following day and myself back to Phoenix, we each made our way to our respective cars and with a drive back to Beverly Hills followed by the trip to my hotel I was left with plenty of time to focus on the meal that just was – not a perfect one to be sure, but one speckled with brilliance on all parts of the menu from appetizers to desserts in a space with plenty of buzz; in other words the sort of place where the food (and service) are way better than they ‘need’ to be, and a great place to share some drinks, plates, and good times with friends. A high volume spot, to be certain, I’m glad to see Chef Ori doing well and while the food isn’t quite as precise as that at ‘All Angelo I get the feeling Bestia will stand the test of time much better – no easy task in the Los Angeles dining scene.
The Why: Living in Ohio and moving to Phoenix my opportunities for good Dim Sum are limited and given the fact that this trip to Los Angeles would be my very first by car I wanted to visit at least one of the hot spots in the San Gabriel Valley – ideally with a group – and when a local dining buddy suggested he’d gladly meet me out in Rosemead AND bring a group the only question was whether to visit Elite or Sea Harbour, a decision eventually favoring the later since he’d already been to Elite. Admittedly no expert on Dim Sum and thus deferring to the opinions of my friend the decision was made to arrive ‘later’ in the day as to avoid the oft cited 2+ hour waits, approximately 12:30-1:00.
The Reservation: Nope – just a long line, even at 1:00 when we all arrived and managed to allocate parking – and a 45 minute wait before our party of four was called and we all rushed in to avoid the front of house moving on to the next number.
The Setting: White tablecloths, comfortable chairs, and controlled chaos. Pretty much everything you’d expect from Dim-Sum, and although there are no carts there is the occasional server zipping around to offer you har-gow, a pork bun, or something else adding to the confusion.
The Service: They take your order. They fill your tea. They deliver your food as it is prepared. If you are lucky they will tell you what they are serving…and maybe even get you a glass of water (if you ask.) If you ask me I’ve personally never had bad service at a dim sum spot – I’ve also never had good service; just appropriate service and the same as every other table in the house.
The food and drink: Tea, Water, 13 Plates divided amongst a group of four.
Steamed BBQ Pork Bun: Simple, fluffy, packed with a lot of pork and not overly sweet. A very good start.
Shrimp Dumpling: Perhaps the ‘definitive’ must-order standard for dim-sum a quartet of high quality Har-Gow arrived with translucent wrappers barely able to contain the densely packed shrimp and although I personally found the wrapped to be slightly too thick the shrimp was snappy, sweet, and steaming hot.
Sticky Rice Wrapped with Lotus Leaf: Admitting that I’m not a big consumer of rice I was skeptical of this dish but when it arrived and I opened the bundle I was met with not only the fantastic aromatics of soy and allspice but also nearly rice-pudding textured roll lightly tinged with seasoned beef; definitely one of my favorite plates of the day.
Chinese Broccoli with Oyster Sauce: Considering the fact that I eat (no exaggeration) about 20lbs of broccoli a week I obviously love the vegetable and yet at the same time I never order it in restaurants largely because I consume so much the rest of the time. That said, apparently ‘needing’ to have some vegetables on the table according to those wiser than I this long-stemmed style broccoli was perfectly steamed and snappy while the oyster sauce was thick and savory with just a bit of sweet…good, but too filling considering the rest of the items on the table.
Stewed Ox tendon and Tripe in Brown Sauce: A chance choice with this one and unfortunately we took a swing and missed – the textures all fine but the sauce a sort of acidic and grainy flavor that fell somewhere between grape nuts cereal and apple cider vinegar; not good…not good at all.
Shrimp and Scallop Dumpling: Offered as replacement to my friend as the kitchen had run out of shrimp and chive dumplings these were actually quite nice and although the dusting of roe really offered nothing the shrimp and scallops were both nicely cooked while the wrappers proved thinner and less sticky than those on the har-gow.
Beef Ball in Superior Sauce: Not something I’d have ordered by choice but actually quite good, the meatballs lightly spiced and the “superior” sauce more of a chicken stock style of broth with tender bok choy adding a needed vegetal tinge.
Sauteed Sichuan Runner Beans with Minced Pork: While I did not detect much pork flavor the beans were nicely cooked with a snappy exterior giving way to the tender beans within – a bit sweet, a bit savory, and filling that *need* for vegetables on the table.
Meat Ball and Fish Ball Bean Curd Congee: I love congee and as good as the version was at Yang’s in Toronto this is probably the best traditional version I’ve had of the dish. Featuring white rice cooked to that perfect point where it becomes creamy but remains toothsome and further enhanced by smooth tofu plus a trio of each protein there was a whole lot (both in portion and in flavor) to love about this dish and although traditional donuts were not offered a sidecar of green onions and crisply fried dough added plenty of bonus texture.
Egg Custard Tart: Hot, just short of set, and housed in a crisp pastry shell my dining partners held off and enjoyed these as dessert while I endangered the roof of my mouth with the molten custard…and it was totally worth it, the subtle sweetness and rich filling marrying perfectly with the buttery crust…I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I could eat these by the dozen.
Deep Fried Squid in Spicy, Salty, Pepper: Oddly described on the menu with only adjectives I wasn’t sure if this would come in sauce or simply breaded but when it did arrive it proved to be without a doubt the best dish of the afternoon for me, the calamari all tender and sweet with a light batter that was, as promised, plenty salty and spicy, but not so much as to overwhelm the squid.
Eggplant Stuffed with Shrimp Paste: I love eggplant, I like shrimp, and although the eggplant was a touch overcooked for this quartet the flavors were quite nice – the sauce clearly derived from roasted eggplant and peanut oil but also tinged with five spice and green onions. Great flavor but a bit ‘mushy’ this was an enjoyable dish but probably not one I’d order again.
Deep Fried Fish Paste Ball: The last dish to arrive, each piece of this quintet was slightly larger than a golfball and sliced prior to presentation in order to facilitate cooling the flavor was largely like lightly sugared brandade while the texture was something akin to the egg custard; both perfectly suited to my palate and as such another favorite of the afternoon.
The Verdict: I’ll never pretend to be a dim-sum aficionado – it simply isn’t in my genes or my experience – but from my naïve Caucasian perspective Sea Harbour is turning out some great dishes to a throng of diners of various ages, ethnicities, and experience levels each and every day so they are clearly doing something very right and although I’m not sure I’d wait 2 hours during peak times I’d have no trouble justifying a return visit with the same folks or an even larger group in the future to try more of the menu.
The Why: Truthfully, prior to the Kings announcing their game I didn’t even know Alma was an official restaurant rather than the Ari Taymor’s pop-up I’d read about months earlier when planning a previous visit to the city of angels, yet the moment I started looking into the scene I couldn’t help but come across the former Water + Flower chef’s restaurant as perhaps ‘the’ place to go in Los Angeles today. From Gold’s gushing review to strong words of praise from friends I trust (some who’d been, some who’d only been to the pop up, and some who hadn’t been at all) it seemed that whatever Taymor was doing in his new downtown location was enough to get Los Angeles diners excited – something I realize happens frequently only to have the restaurant disappear half-a-year later – but here it seemed different, like whatever was happening was a legitimate change to the dining scene…I immediately did my research and put it at the top of my short list – a spot it never departed in my week of planning.
The Reservation: A hot spot with limited seating in downtown LA I knew there was a chance that such a last-minute trip would leave me locked out of Alma for this trip and appearing to be completely booked via Opentable with phones down on the Sunday when the Kings game was announced I opted to e-mail and within four hours received a response from a woman named Ashleigh who not only confirmed that they could fit me in, but that they’d be happy to do so for the tasting menu at the chef’s counter – right at the pass – and I gladly accepted, 1 diner at 6:00pm.
The Setting: Familiar with Los Angeles in the global sprawling sense but less so in the downtown area I triangulated my parking to make Staples, Industriel, Nickel Diner, and Alma all an easy walk and yet if I didn’t have an address or GPS I’d have walked right past Alma; to say the least it is a small spot. Featuring a wooden exterior reminding me of something in Chicago’s Fulton Market I walked through the doors to find the space equally subtle; a blonde wood hostess podium and chairs with a white countertop and tables beneath elegant but restrained lighting – Spartan and clean without that ‘trying to hard’ minimalism feel. With a solid selection of quiet-Alt/Indie including xx and Placebo playing from a speaker near the kitchen (and my seat right at the counter,) my view for the 2 hours I was there featured the four chefs, two servers, and a dishwasher working largely in silence turning out plate after plate for a steady-but-never-full-house crowd.
The Service: In my experience it is hard to receive bad service when the chef is standing 2-feet from your right arm and as such I have little to note about Alma aside from a couple of oddities that comes with their pending liquor license (and thus current BYOB status) including plates sometimes lingering a little too long and the expectation that the diner pour her/his own water from the provided bottle. For the part of the individual servers, everyone from the hostess to the chefs presented plates and descriptions were thorough, requests granted, and feedback sought (if you get bread with your tasting menu when you go, that was me.) Equally excellent, given my proximity to the kitchen, was the chance to chat with members of the team…Night + Market is now on my shortlist for next visit and had I not already had reservations at Bestia the following night I’d have placed it on my list as well.
The Food and Drink: Water, one complementary house soda, bread and butter (requested,) and 13-course tasting menu for $85.
Turmeric Soda: As I did not bring wine the chef suggested I try a house soda and sent out this; a spicy and complex drink with fine carbonation much like a champagne but really quite overwhelming until the ice melted to dilute. Not something I’d seek out or order the drink definitely fit the scene and provided a great palate cleanse between courses.
Alsatian Beer Bread with Cultured Butter: I’d heard Alma had an excellent bread program and saw it on the menu yet half-way into the meal I realized it was not included in the tasting, a situation I requested to remedy by ordering some bread and although I was not charged (and it is rumored to now be included in the tasting) I’d have happily paid twice the menu price for this rich and malty bread, warmed in the oven and served with a sort of sweet/sour butter – good on its own, great at sopping up sauces…order it if you go.
Seaweed and Tofu beignet, yuzu kosho, lime: The first of three items listed as “Bites,” essentially one bite snacks or canapés, the first bite of the night was the restaurant’s signature savory beignet of seaweed served over a sweet and herbal cream with a sprits of lime, the donut a bit more dense than I’d have preferred but at the same time not a bit oily and very nicely balanced – I’d have definitely eaten a full order solo if dining a la carte.
Oyster Wrap with cilantro, Serrano, fingerlime: Another fried bite, this time a briny oyster resting atop a ham and topped with cilantro, lime, and jalapeno, was every bit as good as the first but here focusing more of the palate on salty than sweet I particularly enjoyed the touch of heat, a rarity for me, as it helped smooth out the oyster’s brine thus bringing a unique mineral note to the mix.
Shitake, cabbage, cultured cream: Clearly working the palate through these first few courses the third bit was pure umami – the obvious effect of the lightly heated mushroom but brought to a point through the use of such rich cream and house fermented cabbage plus an interesting mint-meets-spice note from the florals resting atop the composition.
Radish: If the first three plates were canapés then this one was the amuse and perhaps in an attempt to continue the trend of new tastes and sensations I think the team took a big chance here; one I respect but didn’t particularly enjoy as the bitterness of the common radish was presented in five forms. Interesting in temperature and texture as a panna cotta, ice, raw, and powdered version of the vegetable mingled with its stems the it was simply a matter of flavor – bitter, bitter, bitter, bitter, and bitter – that didn’t work for me…thankfully it would be the only miss of the night.
Dungeness Crab, Fennel, Citrus, Sourdough, Malt Vinegar: Having watched Chef Taymor peel each individual segment of the orange by hand I couldn’t help but love the care that went into this dish and with fresh picked crab, lightly cooked fennel, and a sourdough crisp all lightly dressed with malt vinegar and touch of fennel cream this was perhaps the best crab dish I’ve had since the mesmerizing soft-shell a half-year prior at Taro in DC. Two parts exquisite ingredients and one part skill and beauty of preparation this would be only the fifth most memorable course of the meal.
Sunchoke Soup, Egg Yolk, Smoked Date, Amaranth: Admitting that this is one of those courses that doesn’t *look* like much I can say without batting an eye that it was the most interesting of the trip; a thick vegetal potage poured tableside over a poached egg yolk that, when mixed, released rich campfire aromatics but when tasted was at once sweet, savory, smoky, and even slightly ‘woodsy’ – an amalgam of flavors unlike anything I’ve ever tasted and the sort of dish that leaves you reeling, at once wanting a whole crockpot full of it and also wishing you could go back and re-experience the first eye-opening bite over and over again.
Potato, Uni, Ink: For me, this dish was sabotaged by two things – or perhaps just one – and neither having to do with the dish itself, but rather that it arrived far too quickly after the soup and that it arrived after something as outstanding as the soup at all. Described as a ‘potato risotto’ but mostly just finely cut potatoes that added a bit of tooth to the otherwise creamy pudding of what I can only assume was butter, squid ink, and perhaps mascarpone the flavor was subtle but sweet, a lovely counterpoint to the exemplary urchin.
Winter Salad of Shoots, Leaves, Roots, Seeds, and Horseradish Crème Fraiche: Call me American, call me uncouth, but raw vegetables as a salad rarely wow me and although this was good it was still a salad – slightly bitter, plenty textural, and nicely complimented by the surprisingly subtle notes of horseradish.
Aged Duck Boudin Blanc, Brussels Sprouts, Apple, Green Mustard: Unabashed love of duck and game birds in general this dish came with great expectations and managed to meet them all as the creamy textured sausage wasnearly naked of spice, instead letting the duck’s characteristic notes shine while sliced cooked apples, warm Brussels sprout leaves, and a bright (and decidedly un-mustard) sauce all did their parts in highlighting the diverse flavors of the protein. On many menus this would have been the highlight of the meal, but like the soup it was just one of many truly interesting and delicious takes on an ingredient I’ve seen many times before.
Carrot, Porcini, Maitake, Bloomsdale Spinach: I don’t eat a lot of carrots – I don’t really know why aside from the fact that I like other vegetables better – but with that said, this was without doubt the dish of the night, a simple presentation of vegetables that was not at all simple on the palate. Beginning at its base with carrots of various sizes and varieties, some wood roasted and others still snappy and sweet, subsequently sautéed with mushrooms and spinach in a pan with butter, olive oil, and spices it was the sort of dish that one could overlook on the menu but as it was – earthy, sweet, bitter, and texturally complex – it was the sort of dish you eat one small bite at a time in order to savor each morsel and feel a bit despaired when you finally finish; the sort of dish that sends me back to tasting menus time and again as it was something I’d have never ordered.
Jimenez Lamb, Cabbage, Truffled Buttermilk, Hay potato: For the final savory of the evening I was admittedly feeling a bit full and tired from the long day, but the moment this pair of chops arrived I knew I’d have no trouble justifying a strong finish; particularly as the high quality chops weren’t even the highlight of the dish, but rather the crispy lamb belly and the manner in which the smooth buttermilk and – for lack of a better word – ‘country air’ subtleties of the roasted potato flooded the palate with each bite.
Grapefruit Soda: It was a palate cleanser. It was grapefruit. It was carbonated. It was fine.
Olive and Citrus: Without a dedicated pastry kitchen (and without space for one in its current format) Alma’s desserts trended towards those easily prepared from stored items and although good enough, this composition of black olive biscotti with orange segments, olive oil gelato, and tangerine sorbet certainly did not live up to the high standards of the savory courses. Slightly briny, plenty sweet, and a nice balance of textures it was not a ‘bad’ course at all, just one where I think the team could exercise a little more effort and inspiration considering the quality of the rest of the meal.
The Verdict: Minimalistic, but not to a fault, and relevant to current trend of local/seasonal ‘terroir’ driven cuisine while implementing enough technique to coax the maximum flavor out of each ingredient there really is not much I can say about Alma that isn’t captured in the dishes above but if I had to sum up what I enjoyed most about the experience it would be the honesty of the cuisine and the willingness to push each flavor to a maximum without overcomplicating the plate and losing flavors and textures in the shuffle. Admittedly not every single course ‘wowed’ me and desserts definitely need some work to catch up to the savories, but at the same time there were no wasted ingredients or misplaced plates here – the narrative was fluid and the ingredients were superior even when the chef’s palate differed from my own. A great restaurant even at such a young stage I’m truly excited to see how the space and the team mature with time and hopefully, despite Los Angeles’ fickle nature, the wait list will grow as the accolades accrue and the liquor license is granted; at $115 for tax/tip/menu all-in I’d be surprised if there is a fine dining restaurant in Los Angeles offering better value for the dollar than Alma right now, and if there is I’d love to know where…otherwise I’ll probably be seated at that bar again in a little over a month.
The Why: Going into LA on short notice for a noon-time game I wanted a space that was open continuously from brunch to dinner so as not to require reservations or require any rush to get there (by foot) after leaving Staples Center. Surely I could have made it to Lazy Ox by 3:00, but perhaps cutting it close, and although Umamicatessen looked alright it wasn’t exactly what I was looking for and as such I asked the folks at Chowhound to help out – one of them suggesting Industriel, a place I’d not heard of but one I immediately took a liking to based on a SlowFood ethos of supporting local farms, artisan meat suppliers, and a commitment to preparing everything in house – including jams, jellies, and sauces to go. Admitting now that I’d not expected the Kings to play quite so poorly in their home opener another benefit of Industriel was the 8a-3p Brunch service awaiting me whenever I chose to leave the arena (with about 5 minutes left as it would turn out.)
The Reservation: None made, and when my friend and I arrived at just after 2:15 it turned out none was needed – only two other tables filled and a 1:1 server to table ratio with the kitchen still hard at work prepping for dinner service.
The Setting: Okay, aside from the much photographed, completely odd, and totally awesome chandelier of honey bears hanging over a bathtub the space at Industriel is quite unique, a sort of front foyer/bar in front of the hostess stand where the kitchen is open and those so inclined can grab a coffee, a pastry, or even some preserves to stay or to go, and then the rest of the 2-story space spanning out behind the podium. Fitting the theme of an “Industrial Farm” in its downtown location the feeling is rustic and textured with a lot of wood, robe, and twine but also modern with steel and red leather. The place is comfortably homey without letting you forget you are in LA.
The Service: I’ve heard some claim that service is not the selling point of Industriel but given our 1-to-1 server to table ratio I really cannot comment – from the moment we arrived to the moment we left we were very well taken care of, nothing rushed yet coffee refilled at least 5 times, and silverware replaced between courses while even my napkin was replaced when I went to the restroom; far better than the average ‘gastropub’ or space of similar price point.
The Food and Drink: Coffee, three small plates, three large plates.
Coffee: Excellent and served copiously with warm milk, sugar, and all three sweeteners I actually neglected to ask who roasted the beans, but certainly something familiar and not a single origin my guess is Lavazza or Illy given the mellow cocoa notes, though I certainly could be wrong.
Whole Wheat Croissant: With everything baked in house using local butter the breads were a must for me and of the three we ordered this was the best by far, a light and wispy interior beneath a tanned shell that may ‘seem’ healthy based on the ‘whole wheat,’ but chockablock full of butter atop the light nuttiness. Great on its own, it was better when paired with…
Scone with Clotted Cream and Raspberry Jam: There is a basket of scones on the menu at Industriel that you could buy for $9, or a single one for $2.50 that comes out warm and paired with far too much house made clotted cream and raspberry jam – enough to add to the croissant, or simply eat by the spoonful once you finish the buttery but rather one-note scone. Decent, but certainly not best-of-its-class, the story here was definitely the house made accoutrements – particularly the dense cream and its subtle sweetness.
Daily Bread with Compound Butter: Made fresh throughout the day and changing with the season and spices our bread plate was two dense pieces of rosemary-onion focaccia and one large white pillow of sourdough with rosemary butter and balsamic vinegar. Warm and quite good, yet certainly not ‘wowing’ compared to the bread service at many top tier or mid-range spots it served its purpose admirably, both as a delivery mechanism for the top-grade butter and as a sponge for the sauces of our main plates.
Farm Egg, Crispy Soft Poached, Bacon Leek Risotto, Spinach, Parmesan, Truffle Oil: The first of our main plates this take on bacon and eggs was quite good – the sous-vide egg subsequently breaded and fried with a perfect runny yolk breaking over a bed of julienned spinach and soft rice lightly tinged with leeks, pork, but just a touch too much truffle oil. A decent preparation but in my opinion the weakest of the plates we selected at Industriel the $14 price and sizable portion was right, but I’d have sooner paid more for better quality rice with a little more tooth…or suggest perhaps upgrading the rice and decreasing the truffle oil to let the other ingredients come to the fore.
Duck, Duck, Goose: House Duck Sausage, Duck Fat Biscuits, Faux Gras Gravy, Eggs: While this *might* have been better with real foie gras gravy I’m really not so sure it would have mattered; this was a great dish even if the cliché name was a lie since there was no gooses harmed (and no PETA activists offended) in the making of this plate. Creamy sausage, almost a boudin blanc in texture, and rife with the sapor of duck plus spices including thyme and rosemary paired with biscuits crisp on the exterior but fluffy within the small smear of gravy was almost inconsequential aside from what it added to the buttery scrambled eggs – not typically a savory breakfast sort this was the sort of dish that occasionally makes me rethink my stance.
Brioche French Toast with Compote, Whipped Cream, Vanilla Maple Syrup: Whether two slices of bread are worth $14 is a matter of personal opinion, but when they are about an inch and a half thick, completely custard on the interior and deep fried to crisp on the exterior I’d argue towards ‘yes,’ particularly when paired with house made blueberry preserves, hand churned whipped cream, and hot maple syrup. Far more dessert than breakfast it was this dish (and dinner at Alma only 2 hours later) that made me okay with skipping the tempting sweets menu at Industriel, something I rarely do.
The Verdict: While I can’t speak to peak hours service issues I can speak very positively about my experience at Industriel and to the restaurant’s ethics and concept. A unique space in a market where restaurants seem to come and go on a weekly basis I personally hope Industriel starts to get more attention, particularly for a brunch menu that moved effortlessly from sweet to savory and although not the ‘best’ meal in downtown definitely a top contender for its price bracket, hours, concept, and quality.
A fan of the Los Angeles Kings ever since my aunt and grandfather took me to see the purple and gold play at Joe Louis Arena during the 1987-88 season it goes without saying that the 2012 NHL playoffs were a dream come true – even if a last minute trip to New Jersey saw the Kings lose their first road game of the playoffs only to return home and win the Stanley Cup a few days later as I watched from the living room of an apartment I’d soon be abandoning to move across the country to Phoenix. Vowing then that I would do anything in my power to see the Kings raise the Stanley Cup banner at Staples my dreams were again thwarted when the NHL schedule was released indicating the home opener would be mere days before I took the Endocrine Boards…kind of a big deal, and certainly not one I could jeopardize no matter how strong my love for a sports franchise…but then serendipity (or perhaps just greed and stupidity) intervened leading to a prolonged lockout, hundreds of cancelled and rescheduled games, and a home opener at noon on January 19th, 2013; a 5 hour drive on a weekend with no plans I bought a ticket before they technically even went on sale, snapped up a cheap hotel, and forged together a dining agenda within 24 hours.
Never one to be able to sleep before a trip, whether driving or flying, and particularly not before one as highly anticipated as this one it became apparent after work on Friday that caffeine would be my partner for the week and although I tried to get some rest starting at 8pm I only managed to sleep for 5 hours before awaking – the day began at 12:30am with a great run on the treadmill and from there I loaded up the car and hopped on the I-10 west through Quartzsite, Blythe, Indio, and Palm Springs before arriving at the the Iconic “Donut Man” in Glendora just after 6:00am – still dark the 24/7/365 shop was all aglow and although there was no line a steady trickle of traffic came and went as I perused the options and waited for a warm batch of donuts I was told would be done “any minute.”
A fan of breakfast in all its forms, particularly those sweet, the Donut Man had been on my agenda ever since my first food/hockey/banner-raising trip to Los Angeles on 1/20/07 (Robitaille’s jersey retirement) but located 40 minutes from town it was Bob’s at the Farmers Market that had sufficed back then yet the moment I started browsing the Donut Man I knew two things would be true – first off, these would be superior and second, that I would over-order…to the tune of a half dozen donuts, each larger than necessary, four of them still warm, at a total of just under $9 after giving the young clerk a dollar and some cents tip.
Known most for their Strawberry donut, not yet in season, I began with the apple-cinnamon stuffed option and planning to eat only a few bites of each option in order to save room for later this proved impossible, the yeasty warm donut packed with golden cinnamon apples tempting me to eat more with each bite – in moments it was gone, my hands sticky, and my elevated blood sugar levels pushing me to the another warm option, an ample buttermilk bar whose cake style proved an excellent contrast to the raised option and whose simplicity and strong notes of buttermilk rivaled those at Chicago’s Doughnut Vault for my favorite Cake donut of all time.
With half the buttermilk bar packed back in the box and realizing that filled donuts were less likely to survive the trip I moved next to the Blueberry Cream Puff – an airy cruller filled with an airy mousse bespeckled with pieces of blueberry – the flavor like that of blueberry yogurt and gone in three bites as I moved next to a pair of elongated raised and glazed options, a warm Tiger Tail and room temperature Maple Bar – both enormous and the Tiger Tail a truly awesome concoction featuring a twist of standard glazed dough with a ribbon of chocolate; again eating a few bites of each the tiger tail proved equally excellent later on while the maple bar unfortunately dried out quickly.
Moving finally to the best of the bunch, or at least my personal favorite style of donut, a warm Apple Fritter proved well worth the wait and although it wasn’t nearly as plethoric as that at Old Fashioned in Chicago it was definitively a superior product, the interior studded with buttery baked apples and ribbons of cinnamon while the outside was slightly charred to provide a sort of campfire pie flavor to the nearly half pound round of dough. Certainly better warm than cool I had to show restraint from eating the whole thing right then but stopping by a Starbucks to grab a cup of Sun Roasted Harrar off the Clover a few hours later I know that for the future the key is getting this donut warm WITH coffee…and perhaps recruiting a group to share so I can try more of the two dozen or so options.
Continuing the theme of classic spots that had been on my to-do list through many trips to Los Angeles I arrived in the city just shy of 7:00am and allocated $3 rooftop parking before making my way to Nickel Diner; a space I’d long wanted to visit for breakfast but given its downtown location never a place I chose to venture so early in the morning. Small, oldschool, and frequently with waits topping an hour I wandered downtown for about half an hour and located another (later) destination before doubling back to Nickel where a small line had already gathered by 7:45 – a line including at least ten other Kings fans hoping for a good breakfast before making their way to Staples Center for the 10:00am pre-game fan-fest.
With the doors opened at precisely eight and guests being escorted into the narrow restaurant and seated in sections to best accommodate the wait staff it would not be long before I found myself at a cozy two-top next to two ladies also visiting from Phoenix (though not for the game) and moments later both our tables were greeted by Lisa, a pleasant young woman who appeared to be the senior server that morning, and with menus presented decisions were quickly made by myself while my neighbors weighed their options – an important consideration given the small size of the short-order kitchen as I received my meal more than half an hour before their food arrived.
A bustling space to say the least and filled to near capacity by 8:15 the first half of my two-part order would arrive mere moments after it was placed – boxed-up to go alongside a glass of water, bold drip coffee with cream and a variety of sweeteners, and seasonal preserves with salsa. Realizing the gluttony of ordering more donuts after an early morning stop at the Donut Man I simply couldn’t resist the options offered at Nickel and although both the Nutella and Red Velvet versions I selected would not be consumed until shortly before the doors opened at Staples I must say that the Nutella was one of the best donuts I have ever tasted, the yeast raised dough light and airy while the a lacquer of nutella rolled in crushed hazelnuts provided a great flavor and textural balance. Decent, but a bit gimmicky in that it was a standard raised donut rolled in subtle red cocoa and filled with tangy cream cheese, the Red Velvet was simply too sweet; not a total ‘miss’ but certainly not as good as the rest of my meal at Nickel Diner (or the superlative Red Velvet Donut at Semi-Sweet that I would enjoy later.)
With the two donuts taken to go the portion of the meal that I enjoyed within the friendly confines of Nickel Diner arrived just after 8:30am and at this point working on a third cup of coffee my meal started with the house made cinnamon swirl brioche French toast served with pure organic maple syrup – two thick slices of buttery brioche saturated with rich custard and pan seared to crispy on the exterior. Simple, delicious, and served with a dollop of butter and a sprinkle of powdered sugar this was diner food done right; nothing fussy, just a great rendition of a classic.
Moving finally to what many consider to be Nickel Diner’s signature dish, the Maple Glazed Bacon Donut would prove to be every bit worth the hype and having experienced many of the most well regarded versions of this culinary phenomenon – from Dynamo in San Francisco to Nord’s in Louisville – I can say without batting an eye that Nickel’s warm version was the best of the bunch, the glaze itself featuring a smoky pork flavor while the slightly charred bacon provides a saline crunch – the sweet meets savory whole far greater than the sum of its parts and good enough to warrant a visit to Nickel Diner all by itself – and all the moreso considering the quality of the Nutella donut, French Toast, service, setting, and sub-$20 tab.
Moving along from breakfast – and actually backtracking a bit as I’d parked on 6th Street – I knew it would be a bit gluttonous to pick up more pastry en route to Staples Center, particularly as I was still porting two donuts from Nickel Diner while four half-donuts from The Donut Man waited in the car, but with no intention of eating stadium food and no lunch plans until three a stop at Semi Sweet Bakery seemed a logical choice…and an inspired one since both Sharlena Fong and James Gonzalez had previously spent time cooking at Nickel Diner.
Small and relatively unknown to many local gourmands I’d originally heard about Semi Sweet from a friend in New York who mentioned Fong’s stints at both Eleven Madison Park and Per Se when we were discussing new places to check out in Los Angeles and making my way into the bakery (for the first of two times that day) I found the cute yet minimalist space to be empty save for one table thus allowing me to discuss the hand crafted and largely organic menu at length with the young man behind the counter – a good thing in that I learned a lot about the culinary team at Semi Sweet and a bad thing in that it predictably led to me ordering more than I should have…and coming back later for more.
With options boxed up carefully and loaded into a bag along with the donuts from Nickel Diner after a few photos were taken it would not be long before the modest tab was paid and shortly thereafter I was standing in front of Staples Center and the Stanley Cup with hoards of fans decorated in black and silver realizing that while I’d likely be able to sneak some of the items into the arena I certainly couldn’t manage them all and as such it was time to see if Semi Sweet was as good as anticipated; the answer a resounding yes kicked off by a Samoa Macaron with a delicate coconut shell drizzled with chocolate giving way to an intense caramel center far more salty and savory than its girl scout namesake and all the better for it.
With the macaron a mere bite my next taste of Fong’s work would be in the form of my favorite French pastry – the Almond Croissant – and although perhaps a bit unfair to judge as I’d let it sit in a bag for nearly three hours this would prove to be the biggest disappointment of the items I tried from Semi-Sweet as the double baked option was nicely flavored but unfortunately far less crunchy than I’d have hoped, the frangipane and butter taking away from the shattering layers I’d hoped for and leading me to move rather quickly to a pair of Ding-a-Lings; the restaurant’s upscale take on the Hostess’ Ding Dong (or King Don for all you Midwesterners out there.)
Beginning first with the Red Velvet – strongly recommended by the clerk – this was certainly not the snack cake of my childhood, the cocoa notes far more subtle, the cake far more dense, and the cream lesser in portion but greater in flavor while the dark chocolate shell was exemplary – even better than Thomas Keller’s Oh-Oh’s at trumping a classic, but not nearly as good as the second Ding-a-Ling – a “Hazelnut Crunch” version with dense chocolate cake, Nutella cream filling, and a crispy hazelnut tuille embedded within and providing an unexpected textural counterpoint to the moist cocoa sponge.
So taken by the Ding-a-Lings was I that en route back to my car (after the game and lunch at Industriel but before dinner at Alma) I actually stopped back at Semi Sweet to pick up a couple more for later but finding the space far more crowded than prior what I ended up ordering instead was two items that hadn’t been available during breakfast – the first a Baked Red Velvet Donut and the second a dense slice of Blueberry Cornbread; both excellent and the Red Velvet (my tenth donut sampling of the day) a revelation in the lightness of not only the cake, but the cream cheese glaze – a sweet/savory balance that went great with a cup of coffee and left plenty of room for the toothsome cornbread featuring a golden exterior and soft crumb studded with fresh, bursting berries and subtle sweetness not unlike a well-crafted blueberry muffin with butter – a strong influence for me to go back on my next trip to Los Angeles for the Coffee Cake, Banana Bread, and 7-Up Pound Cake.
Admitting fully that day one of this whirlwind trip to Los Angeles was absurd – a mere 5 hours of sleep in 48 hours and 5 dining destinations intertwined the following day would actually prove to be even more prolific with seven spots visited between 8am and midnight, the first Na Young’s highly acclaimed “Proof” just south of Glendale off the I-5. Having retired quite early the prior night after dinner at Alma and already with a nine mile jog at Veterans Memorial Park in Commerce behind me I arrived at Proof quite hungry and with parking ample and the small bakery just opened I made my way through the doors to find the shelves just being stocked, the smells of butter and sugar wafting in the air and the staff all smiling brightly.
Having heard good things about a number of Proof’s creations but with my heart set on one of my very favorite pastries – the Paris Brest – I was disheartened temporarily to see none in the case and inquiring further my fears were confirmed when I was told none of the hazelnut and choux pastry was yet available that morning and I’d be forced to make the best of a bad situation; a first-world problem without a doubt and one that I remedied with a selection of four alternatives, a $15 tab setting the bar rather high and thanking the staff as I returned to Glendale Avenue my tasting started off on a good note with a still-warm scone juxtaposing pockets of butter with crunchy pearls of sugar and tart currants all beneath a crunchy sucrose gloss.
Feeling the warmth of what was left in the bag but wanting to save the other morning pastries for last my next taste of Proof came in the form of an item obviously better suited as a dessert but stereotyped meal times be damned the Salted Caramel Tart was absolutely outstanding – a nearly liquid fresh caramel beneath a creamy dark chocolate ganache all resting atop a buttery shortbread crust and topped with flaked Maldon sea salt; bite for bite one of the most decadent desserts I’ve had in some time and as perfect at 8am as it would have been mid-day.
Moving next to another option still warm from the oven, the oft raved Morning Bun proved to be another outstanding bite as the crispy cinnamon-sugar speckled exterior gave way to elastic buttery layers rife with light aromatics and refined sweetness; part laminated brioche cinnamon roll and part Kouign Amann this was excellent but still not on par with what followed; an Almond Croissant that rivals the very best in both stateside and in Paris, the shattering layers on the exterior giving way to a loosely wound core brimming with butter and light on frangipane; a truly beautiful creation that only reaffirmed that fact that I need to go back in order to experience the Brest, the bread pudding, and the canele – even if I have to call ahead from Phoenix to figure out what day and time they’ll be available during my next visit.
Next up, proper breakfast would be served at The Sycamore Kitchen…along with a goodly number of baked goods, some consumed at the restaurant and others a little later in the day. Owned and operated by Karen and Quinn Hatfield – a couple whose namesake restaurant has still eluded me despite many visits to the area – and located in La Brea where I’d planned to browse around before a trip to the Farmer’s Market it seemed like a perfect fit, and an introduction point to upscale rustic approach that seems to define the couple’s culinary style.
Arriving just after 9:00am to find plenty of free-parking (11am on weekends) directly in front of the restaurant’s lovely patio I made my way in to Sycamore Kitchen to find perhaps half of the seats taken, a half dozen or so smiling employees, and unmistakable smell of cinnamon, sugar, and coffee in the air. Rustic and industrial with a lot of exposed brick, brown wood, and natural lighting the space feels trendy but comfortable and with seemingly everyone choosing to dine outdoors in the morning sun the interior of the space was rather quiet as I perused the options – trying to avoid ordering one of each.
Opting to order one prepared plate and a single baked good for the patio and four more for the road…many of which would not make it to said ‘road’…I was given a number, a cup of Stumptown Coffee, and settled on a table outside in the sun where a number of people with their dogs sat while others came and went with coffee and a pastry in hand. Promised a short wait for my main plate, a server arrived moments later with my first pastry selection and the other four packed up in a tidy box; the first bite being the Salted Caramel Pecan Babka Roll that falls somewhere between a pecan roll, croissant, and coffee cake…three of the best things ever that, when warm and pulled apart piece-by-piece provided notes sweet, salty, smoky, and yeasty all beneath a rich buttery veil – an early contender for pastry of the year (along with Proof’s Almond Croissant.)
Moving next to one of my previously designated ‘take-out’ pastries as I waited for my plate, the Banana Chocolate Strudel would prove to be another outstanding reinvention/combination of two things – the chocolate dipped frozen banana so ubiquitous at any number of festivals and baklava – the end result a sort of spring roll shaped item with thousands of crackling layers giving way to an interior at once creamy banana pudding and chocolate sauce; an outstanding flavor and texture that I restrained myself from eating in its entirety until later and leading to more coffee before tasting the traditional Almond Brioche Bostock, the rich bread golden and caramelized with strong almond notes on the exterior and buttery soft within.
At this point with my main course now before me a meal that was already going nicely turned into something truly outstanding – a “destination breakfast” anchored by what may be the best French Toast I’ve ever tasted. Described as Cinnamon Brioche French toast with Grated Apple Slaw and Whipped Crème Fraiche but also featuring an ample helping of golden raisins and warm maple syrup this dish began with rich brioche every bit as crunchy as the bostock on the exterior but creamy as custard in the interior with hefty cinnamon notes throughout and then moved it to the next level with slightly sour apples and tangy crème fraiche balanced effortlessly by the raisin and the syrup. Ample in portion, not a bit greasy, and a great amalgam of textures and flavors this is a must order.
Having photographed the rest of my bounty before departing my last two selections from Sycamore kitchen would prove every bit as good as those enjoyed at the restaurant and consumed some ten hours later on the beach in Santa Monica both the Blueberry Muffin Financier and the Crème Fraiche Coffee Cake remained dense, moist, and flavorful – the almond tinged financier a particularly interesting take on marrying the light textures of a financier with the shape and structure of a traditional muffin and an exclamation point reminder that my next visit to Los Angeles requires a stop at Hatfield’s.
For my final pastry stop on this trip to the city of Angels, Short Cake ranked high on my list of places to check out for two reasons, the first being the culinary pedigree of Pressman and Silverton, and the second being its fanciful location within the Original Farmer’s Market – a space I feel obligated to visit each time I’m in town, particularly on weekends when the space is bustling and parking at the Grove can be had at an hour for free. Acknowledging, of course, that I’d already managed to visit two of the city’s newest and best bakeries prior to my stop at Short Cake I wasn’t really sure if I would be ordering anything or simply performing reconnaissance for a future trip but in traditional fashion the plan changed when I arrived and saw what was available.
Noting the bakery’s location, a large space in the market with an open kitchen bustling with energy, a small line greeted me on arrival and with plenty of options both sweet and savory I stood back for a moment before stepping into the line and progressing forward denoting the items that interested me most – an unsurprising six in total, only one to be tasted then and the rest for later, a total bill of $18 after tax and a $1 tip to the man boxing/bagging/expediting the line.
Already with some leftovers in the car but still with room to indulge and four hours until lunch my tasting of Short Cake would begin with a total failure – a particularly appalling disaster in that it occurred with my favorite French pastry, a Twice Baked Almond Croissant so sticky (and sickly sweet) with frangipane that I actually scooped some from the soggy interior with a spoon before depositing 2/3 of the pastry in the trash and moving on to something I hoped would redeem the experience immediately – the Bakery’s last slice of Chocolate Bun Bread Pudding; an intensely cocoa laden but unfortunately dry take on my favorite dessert that benefitted greatly by some time in the sun (in the back seat of my car) but still ended up largely going to waste because the other options from Short Cake (and leftovers from Sycamore Kitchen and Proof) were vastly superior.
Saving the rest of the selections for dessert after Dim Sum at Sea Harbour my next bites of Pressman’s wares would be alongside ice cream from Sweet Rose Creamery and starting first with the Turbinado Babka there was a decided improvement from the prior options as the buttery layered pastry was nicely balanced and quite light with a savory yeastiness coming through beneath the sugar, but on the whole it was not even in the same league as that from Sycamore Kitchen. Faring better, two cookies and a scone would round out the options and while both the Breakfast Cereal Cookie with Dried Blueberry and “Nancy’s Favorite” Chocolate Chip Cookie were quite good it was only the Campfire Scone that truly wowed; a sort of Snickerdoodle biscuit beneath charred marshmallows that was both sweet and savory, a slight smokiness one generally doesn’t associate with pastry that was quite unexpected considering the relative sub-par quality of the rest of the items from Short Cake.
For my last bites of non-restaurant sweets in Los Angeles a bunch of cakes and pastries clearly call for one thing (besides coffee,) and that is Ice Cream – in this instance from the brains behind Huckleberry Bakery in Santa Monica at the aforementioned Sweet Rose Creamery. A relative newcomer (late 2011) to the scene and focused on small-batch production with high quality ingredients Sweet Rose has certainly gathered its fair share of praise since it opened to the public and although many claim the prices are too high I had to see for myself whether the rumors of a trusted friend stating “the best Salted Caramel ice cream ever” were true.
A small scoop shop with what the lady in front of me described as “an unusually short” 20-person line my first impression of the area surrounding the Brentwood Country Market was how very ‘small town’ it seemed – the sort of place I’d have expected in Marblehead Ohio, for instance, yet as the line moved forward a double decker Starline bus drove past and a menu appeared listing a bacon sundae and Quince Manchego ice cream things certainly felt more in place – the warm sun in the middle of January also a bit at odds with my childhood memories of Ohio winter, yet just the same it would not be long before I stood at the counter ready to taste first, then order.
Beginning first with the two tasting spoons I requested (though more were offered if I were so inclined) my first experience with Sweet Rose was in fact the Quince Manchego, a slightly sharp and briny bite at its base with mellow sweetness on the finish that almost convinced me to order a full scoop, followed by signature “Verve Coffee” – a dark yet overly creamy bite that paled in comparison to Jeni’s Splendid Black Coffee version back in Columbus as well as to Bi-Rite’s Ritual Coffee Toffee in San Francisco thus allowing me to focus my attention on the flavor for which I’d came and “Today’s Flavor” special – a $5.50 Double of Brown Sugar Butter Pecan and Salted Caramel, the former an impeccable take on my favorite ice cream flavor with pralines in place of the standard pecans and lovely butter notes swirled with crunchy bits of brown sugar while the Salted Caramel, graced with an extra shake of crunchy sea salt before service, was every bit as good as Sweet Republic’s Salted Butter Caramel and the Burnt Caramel of Toscanini’s, my personal standard bearers for the flavor. A great shop in a really cute neighborhood I’d venture to say Sweet Rose is the best ice cream I’ve had in SoCal and a “two for two” along with Huckleberry in Josh Loeb and Zoe Nathan’s collection of restaurants – a fact that will surely send me to Milo and Olive sooner rather than later.
The lost meals entries consist of meals that occurred at various times throughout 2012 which, for any number of reasons, escaped my documentation – some due to a cross country move and a new job, some due to the Los Angeles Kings run to the Stanley Cup, and some simply as a result of too much travel. Having enjoyed many of these meals with friends or family and with some of them amongst the year’s very best the reality is that with time my memory has deteriorated and as life moves forward I’ve realized there is little hope to ever “catch up” or document these experiences as well as I’d hope, yet in order to preserve them I present these pictures, notes, and thoughts on the experience.
Crostini, Focaccia, White with Olive Oil and Balsamic
Grilled Filone with Duck Egg and Fonduta
Margherita with Bufala Mozzarella and Tomatoes
Pici with Braised Duck Sauce and Black Truffle
Tuscan Fries with Garlic and Parmigiano, 14oz Ribeye with Bernaise
Salted Caramel Budino with Pretzel Toffee
Despite a truly excellent meal at Scarpetta New York when Scott Conant was still in the kitchen in 2009 I’d never returned to the original location, nor the Los Angeles or Las Vegas outpost, largely because of similar menus plus an ever growing list of places to visit no matter where I travel and as such when my friend suggested he was going to get dinner before heading out for the evening on a night when I already had late night dining plans I took the opportunity to not only join him, but to suggest Chef Conant’s concept small plates restaurant D.O.C.G., conveniently located just a few feet away from my later meal at é by Jose Andres.
A unique space with indoor and ‘patio’ seating at the far end of restaurant row inside The Cosmopolitan we arrived just after the space opened at 6pm and opting to sit inside to watch the kitchen it would not be long before our server arrived with the nightly menu and a few specials, a list from which we certainly over-ordered but aside from the Vegas-y price tag not a single choice we would regret. A bustling restaurant, but not a particularly “loud” one despite filling to capacity before we made our exit service was every bit as professional as expected and with drinks readily refilled the kitchen moved efficiently sending out our selections in three courses with excellent timing as the meal kicked off with a bread basket not quite as lovely as the salumi bread at Scarpetta, but warm with a truly impressive Focaccia which I had to mindful to resist after the first slice.
Moving on to the proper plates, the first course arrived as a half order of thick, toothsome pici topped with a truffle-laden sauce of tomato and duck confit that was expectedly rustic and rich while its counterpart, the oft raved Filone with a poached duck egg sitting atop cheese fondue was equally rich but ever more refined, the silky mix of egg and cheese atop hot bread without a doubt the best dish of a meal full of good choices. Following the appetizers, a main course of steak with a side of fries was pronounced by my friend to be good, but not $62 good while the $22 Margherita featured top quality ingredients and great char, but failed to reach the highs of the pie at Due Forni which cost substantially less.
Unwilling/Unable to pass on dessert despite another full meal in just a couple of hours the early evening at D.O.C.G. ended with the house specialty Salted Caramel Budino and yes, without a doubt, this is a signature dessert worth the rave reviews as the dense pudding walks a fine line between too sweet and too salty with bits of toffee acting as a textural contrast; it would have been great with coffee and along with the filone is reason enough to pay D.O.C.G. a visit (even with the exorbitant on-strip markup)
The lost meals entries consist of meals that occurred at various times throughout 2012 which, for any number of reasons, escaped my documentation – some due to a cross country move and a new job, some due to the Los Angeles Kings run to the Stanley Cup, and some simply as a result of too much travel. Having enjoyed many of these meals with friends or family and with some of them amongst the year’s very best the reality is that with time my memory has deteriorated and as life moves forward I’ve realized there is little hope to ever “catch up” or document these experiences as well as I’d hope, yet in order to preserve them I present these pictures, notes, and thoughts on the experience.
Moochin Monkey Bread
Short Stack of Donuts with Raspberry, Chocolate, Caramel
Sugarfoots Dancing Chicken and Waffles with Wild Turkey American Honey maple syrup
Cinnamon Bun French Toast with Tableside Flambe Bananas Foster, Anglaise
Hot Mess with Waffle Fries, Brown Ale Chili, Spicy Cheese, Eggs, Crema, Bacon, Sausage, Jalapeno
Perhaps it should come as no surprise that the signature Las Vegas outpost of celebrity Chef Sammy D went belly up shortly after my December visit; it was loud both visually an aurally, could not/would not turn on any NFL game besides the Cowboys despite multiple TVs and title of First Food & BAR, and even by Sin City Standards the prices were high while the vibe/décor bordered on too-hip-for its-own-good…and yet at the same time I must admit that despite all these failings and the fact that service was more eye-candy than efficiency I kind of enjoyed my meal there.
Perhaps as a result of having spent the morning at Public House where my friend already acquired a good beer buzz or perhaps due to my guilty-pleasure soft spot for upscale comfort food and/or kitsch takes on American classics the best way I can describe First Food & Bar – both the experience and the cuisine – is “fun,” each dish a little more audacious than the last with large portions, tableside preparations, and excessive ingredients aplenty. Ranging from shockingly simple and delicious donuts to unique and elaborately presented French toast to the doughy and tedious Monkey Bread our sampling of sweet items ran the gamut and moving towards the savory – two options ordered by my friend – both the chicken and the waffle were as well prepared as any while the waffle fries…let’s just say the name says all you need to know, and one or two was definitely enough (though my friend claims otherwise, to which I say “drunk food.”)
Sporting the moto “Hard to find but easy to love” due to their obscure location in the shoppes at the Venetian I’m not sure I entirely agree with that sentiment, but I am glad I went – even if I probably would not have gone back even if they had remained open; a “once is enough” sort of place to be sure.
The lost meals entries consist of meals that occurred at various times throughout 2012 which, for any number of reasons, escaped my documentation – some due to a cross country move and a new job, some due to the Los Angeles Kings run to the Stanley Cup, and some simply as a result of too much travel. Having enjoyed many of these meals with friends or family and with some of them amongst the year’s very best the reality is that with time my memory has deteriorated and as life moves forward I’ve realized there is little hope to ever “catch up” or document these experiences as well as I’d hope, yet in order to preserve them I present these pictures, notes, and thoughts on the experience.
Fresh Doughnut Holes Fried to Order with Vanilla, Chocolate, Raspberry Sauce
French Toast Crème Brulee
In a city that never sleeps where absentee landlord chefs abound Michel Richard’s Central LV stands alone; a 24-Hour restaurant off the lobby of Caesar’s Palace where one can theoretically order an item off any part of the menu at any time of day – at least according to the undisclosed person who answers their e-mail – though if you happen to ask for a Mille-Feuille /Napoleon at 6:15am you’re certain to get a vacant look from one of the most lackadaisical and slow moving servers in all of Las Vegas followed by assertion that this dish is not on the breakfast menu.
Service, misinformation, and excessive pricing aside I will note that the two dishes I did receive after an inexplicable forty minute wait were actually quite good – the doughnut holes light and hot with each topping delicious, particularly when mixed, while the Crème Brulee French Toast was a textural masterpiece with caramelized bread sandwiching milky custard good enough to justify a ten dollar price tag, but certainly not a $17 one…even if I did save a few bucks in leaving a paltry tip for my server Alexander’s total of four visits to the table during my 55 minute stay (menu drop, order, plate drop, check drop.) Having visited both Richard’s fine dining Citronelle and original Central in Washington DC I can only imagine the service at Central LV is Harrah’s and not his doing; probably the pricing as well.
The lost meals entries consist of meals that occurred at various times throughout 2012 which, for any number of reasons, escaped my documentation – some due to a cross country move and a new job, some due to the Los Angeles Kings run to the Stanley Cup, and some simply as a result of too much travel. Having enjoyed many of these meals with friends or family and with some of them amongst the year’s very best the reality is that with time my memory has deteriorated and as life moves forward I’ve realized there is little hope to ever “catch up” or document these experiences as well as I’d hope, yet in order to preserve them I present these pictures, notes, and thoughts on the experience.
Smoked Sea Salt Sable / Duck Confit covered in Panko Bread Powder / Flax Cracker with Carrot Chantilly / Squid Ink Tartlet with Trout Roe and Foie Gras Custard / Roquefort Tartlet with Mustard seed and Mascarpone Cream / Tequila Pomegranate Gelee
French Baguette, Walnut Raisin Molasses Bread, Italian Buttermilk Bread, and Bordier Butter
Black Truffle – Pumpkin Cake with Salt Cod, Black Truffle, Gold and Red Beets, Spinach Veloute with Garlic
Hudson Valley Foie Gras – Poached Foie Gras with Horseradish Emulsion, Sauerkraut, Morteau Sausage / Glenmorangie Glazed Duck Foie Gras Terrine with Gingerbread Powder, Dates, and Hazelnut / Dundee-Pinky Condiment with Apple Ice Cream and Poquillo Pepper Compote
Four Story Hill Farm Poularde – Black Truffle Puree, Diced Artichoke, Fennel, Cuttlefish, and Dauphine Potatoes over Savoy Cabbage / Cold leg roulade with Ginger Salad and Lemon cream
La Grande Dessert – White Chocolate Glace with Lemon Gel, Lemon Confit, Crème Parfait, and Grappa Syrup / Grapefruit Marmalade with Pineapple and Red Pepper Confit, Pink Champagne Granite / Pear Liquor Cremeux with Anise Poached Pear, Coffee Soaked Biscuit Jaconde, Milk Chocolate / Chestnut Orange Gateaux with Clementine Syrup / Guanaja Chocolat Ganache with Caraibe Chocolate Ice Cream and Salty Caramel Tartlet / Passionfruit Syrup, Marron Glace, Pistache Diplomate
If one has never been to a Pierre Gagnaire restaurant, as my friend hadn’t, I think it is best to set the expectations appropriately. First of all, the room will be dramatic and the service will be exemplary. Second, there will be ingredients you have never heard of presented in manners you never imagined. Third, there will be a point in the meal where there are at least four plates resting in front of you and you’ll have no idea where to start. Fourth, chances are good that there will be at least one plate that leaves you scratching your head wondering “what were they thinking?” Last of all – the other ten to fifteen plates will not only be delicious, they’ll make you wonder “why didn’t anyone think of that before?”
Understanding that Twist is high risk and high reward in a city where a gamble is the very basis of the economy is part of the experience and while the reward may not come in the form of a financial windfall the cost of admission at the restaurant newly helmed by Ryuki Kawasaki comes with myriad rewards in the form of cuisine like no other in Sin City – a foie gras dish exploring both bitter and sweet, then bringing it to a peak with super-sweet ice cream only to follow-up with a firey finish being the most impressive example while a brandade dish marring salt and earth elegantly only to leave a sweet, vegetal note on the palate somewhat akin to pumpkin pie also wowed. To the other end – the true risk taker of the evening came with dessert as the nearly unpalatably bitter grapefruit, champagne, and pepper cocktail was served front and center completely overwhelming the palate only to be followed by five additional sweets stimulating the rest of the palate and completing the vision.
Certainly not a restaurant or meal for those happy to dine at a buffet in order to get back to the craps table Twist is a place to sit, think, enjoy the scenery and the service, and embrace the chef’s vision – it is like no other place in Vegas, and all-in it remains my favorite restaurant in the city.
The lost meals entries consist of meals that occurred at various times throughout 2012 which, for any number of reasons, escaped my documentation – some due to a cross country move and a new job, some due to the Los Angeles Kings run to the Stanley Cup, and some simply as a result of too much travel. Having enjoyed many of these meals with friends or family and with some of them amongst the year’s very best the reality is that with time my memory has deteriorated and as life moves forward I’ve realized there is little hope to ever “catch up” or document these experiences as well as I’d hope, yet in order to preserve them I present these pictures, notes, and thoughts on the experience.
Fallen Grape – Simi Cab, Fonseca Port, Averna, St. Germain, Served Warm with a Cinnamon Stick
Potted Farm Egg with Roasted Mushrooms, Ricotta Fondue, Crispy Serrano Ham, Grilled Bread
Foie Gras with Chestnut Stuffing, Spiced Cranberry Compote, Herb Salad
Coffee
Bread Pudding with Apple Confit, Hoegaarden Ice Cream, Buttered Pecans
Charcuterie – Pork Rillets and House Pate
…on Saturday we wanted a place to watch the college games and on Sunday the pro games; sure we could have entered one of the sports books and my buddy could have enjoyed a Miller Light or perhaps even a Molson, but why (aside from saving money) would anyone want to consider that when there is the lavish urban swagger and extensive beer list of Public House at The Venetian? Coupling the cask ales and copious imports with a kitchen that can actually execute some fairly complex upscale pub-grub plus servers that live up to Las Vegas standards (both in looks and in attention to detail in order to justify on-strip prices and a good tip) and a willingness to turn on any game…even the lowly Tampa Bay Buccaneers and I’d say Public House is definitely a spot worth hanging out, even two days in a row.
Starting in the lounge on Saturday where a scantily clad young woman named Krystian served up a number of imported lagers and decent knowledge of the province of each to my friend while providing me with the shockingly delicious recommendation of a warm wine-based cocktail to go with an ample slice of creamy duck liver served like Christmas dinner plus a creamy egg fondue that could have doubled as breakfast it really did not take much of an effort for my friend to get me to accompany him back to the pub on day two where we sat for nearly three hours as he ran through what seemed like an unthinkable amount of beers at the recommendation of a young bartender named Toshihir as I enjoyed house made pate and rillets followed by decent coffee, refilled copiously at no extra charge, and a truly inspired bread pudding as light as angel-food cake and paired with creamy apples, crunchy candied pecans, and ice cream that although hoppy on the finish opened up spicy and sweet.
…dare I say that if all bars were this good I’d probably find myself going out for ‘drinks’ (ie, food at a drinking establishment) more often.
The lost meals entries consist of meals that occurred at various times throughout 2012 which, for any number of reasons, escaped my documentation – some due to a cross country move and a new job, some due to the Los Angeles Kings run to the Stanley Cup, and some simply as a result of too much travel. Having enjoyed many of these meals with friends or family and with some of them amongst the year’s very best the reality is that with time my memory has deteriorated and as life moves forward I’ve realized there is little hope to ever “catch up” or document these experiences as well as I’d hope, yet in order to preserve them I present these pictures, notes, and thoughts on the experience.
Honey Salt
White Bean Puree with Lavosh and Honey Rolls
XL Sicky Bun with Baked Citrus Brioche, Honey Bourbon Sauce
Crunchy Nutella French Toast with Caramelized Bananas and Whipped Cream
Warm Bread Pudding with Bourbon Toffee Sauce, Honey, and Salted Whipped Cream
Returning to dining after a bit of shopping our arrival at the highly touted Honey Salt for brunch was met by the expected crowd – the large, warm, and rustic dining room near full – but unexpectedly by one of the coldest hostesses I’ve ever encountered; enough that we nearly considered walking out until another young woman stepped in, welcomed us and assured us it would be only a short wait for a table, and subsequently seated us in the center of the dining room. Say what you will about “first impressions,” this was the sort that most certainly stuck out and probably colored the rest of the ‘experience’ aspect of Honey Salt – service lacking in nearly all regards as our waitress, Julie, neglected both empty glasses and dirty plates as she bustled around the room.
Moving past service snafus to that which was presented on the plate I must say that things improved dramatically as soon as the bread basket arrived and focusing mostly on the sweet half of the menu crafted by Chef Esmeralda Serrano – whose work I was familiar with from her time at Tableau – every single plate that landed on our table was outstanding, particularly the Monkey Bread style sticky bun whose delicate balance of light acidity and sweet honey wowed with each bite and the thick, custard laden bread pudding whose richness found levity in a puffy cloud of whipped cream flecked with salt. Not generally one to order savory at breakfast/brunch, it should be noted that even my friend’s sliders were excellent – the beef so tender that it formed a sort of smoky stew/scramble with the fluffy eggs and cheese.
Having heard similar negativity about the service at Honey Salt I should only hope they iron out these kinks sooner rather than later because much like Raku this is cuisine more than capable of competing with the best of what can be found on the strip, but in order to be worth the travel a front of house matching the skills in the kitchen will be indispensable.
Patisserie Manon
Pistachio, Coffee, and Caramel with Salted Butter Macaron
Mille Feuille
Coffee Buche Noel
Almond Croissant
Ironically serving as a sharp contrast to the experience at Honey Salt a later day stop at Patisserie Manon would present pleasant and competent service despite entirely sub-par French pastry – the seemingly well regarded shop perhaps overrun with holiday orders but unable to impress with a single item; the macarons gummy (albeit quite nicely flavored,) the mille-feuille mushy, and the Buche Noel ornately decorated but tilted far adrift in the frosting to cake ratio making it somewhat akin to spooning frosting from a can directly into your mouth. Good, although certainly not great, the almond croissant was one saving grace for the lot and I’d gladly return to enjoy one fresh/warm/fluffy at a later date to better assess as the shell was appropriately crisp, the frangipane thin and not overly sweet, and butter tones ample…but at the same time, why travel so far off strip when both Bouchon and Payard are more than capable of delivering a superlative croissant without leaving the hotel?
The lost meals entries consist of meals that occurred at various times throughout 2012 which, for any number of reasons, escaped my documentation – some due to a cross country move and a new job, some due to the Los Angeles Kings run to the Stanley Cup, and some simply as a result of too much travel. Having enjoyed many of these meals with friends or family and with some of them amongst the year’s very best the reality is that with time my memory has deteriorated and as life moves forward I’ve realized there is little hope to ever “catch up” or document these experiences as well as I’d hope, yet in order to preserve them I present these pictures, notes, and thoughts on the experience.
eat.
Coffee
Beignets – Made to Order with Raspberry Jam and Vanilla Mascarpone
Golden Pancake Short Stack
Fruit Cup
Huevos Motulenos with 2 eggs, red and green chili, black beans, peas, feta, sautéed bananas, corn tortilla
Shrimp and Grits with Ham and two fried eggs
Part of the downtown Las Vegas revitalization, Natalie Young’s “eat.” seemed a great choice for early Saturday breakfast and keeping in mind the total dearth of Las Vegas traffic in the early morning hours it was a mere 10 minute drive from the MGM to the small modern eatery where we would find Chef Young already hard and work and an acoustic musician filling the room with tunes from Pearl Jam and Led Zeppelin as we sat down. Designed as a sort of upscale urban soul food space for locals and featuring a menu both familiar but interesting, all composed of locally sourced fresh ingredients I knew right away that I was going to like eat. and although our server J.D. seemed a bit hung over (or perhaps just socially awkward) the moment food began to arrive my suspicions were confirmed.
Starting first with great coffee, copiously refilled throughout our hour-long visit, and moving straight to shared plates of NOLA-quality beignets, crispy buttermilk pancakes with pure maple syrup, and a plethoric fruit cup it was obvious from first bite that Chef Young is not skimping on ingredient quality and although I favor sweet to savory 95% of the time the meal only got better when we moved onto our main plates; the shrimp snappy and sweet with exceptionally toothsome grits and the truly unique pairing of heat and sweet tossed with peas, feta, and two poached eggs quite unlike anything I’ve had before or since – the Motulenos an absolute must order and the restaurant more than enough reason for local or tourist to get up early and trek off-strip.
Chocolate and Spice
Chocolate Buche Noel
Cherry Scone
Banana Cream Pie
Snowman Old Fashioned Cupcake
Smores Bar
Latte
A former pastry chef for both Charlie Palmer and Charlie Trotter, Megan Romano’s pedigree is well known and with a cookbook already under her belt displaying a wide variety of confections both classic and completely unique I had high expectations for her first solo pastry shop, Chocolate and Spice. Having already enjoyed breakfast at eat. but with plans to spend the rest of the day off strip our stop was somewhat impromptu but arriving just after 10:00am the shelves were still packed and with a latte for my friend we decided to sample a few items, some enjoyed in the shop and some saved for later with only a rubbery (and quite honestly quite unpleasant) s’mores bar and a bit too much frosting (an obvious decorative necessity) on the cupcake marring the experience.
Speaking to the items that shined it should first be noted that the service at Chocolate and Spice is exquisite – a smiling staff of young women working the counter and delivering each individually plated item to tables – and given Megan’s background in cake design the bouche noel and body of the cupcake were both dense, moist, and aromatic – definitely a place worth ordering a cake for a special event or a special person. Moving on past the cakes, Ms. Romano’s scones are much like those served at Keller’s Bouchon – a bit softer than the standard with a crunchy sugar coating and pockets of butter juxtaposing plump, bursting fruit – while the Banana Cream Pie, without a doubt the show stealer of the afternoon took ‘flaky crust’ to a whole new level and married it to bananas, banana pudding, and plenty of light pastry cream with a drizzle of caramel that rivaled Tartine, Susina, and Dahlia Bakery for ‘best ever’ bragging rights.
The lost meals entries consist of meals that occurred at various times throughout 2012 which, for any number of reasons, escaped my documentation – some due to a cross country move and a new job, some due to the Los Angeles Kings run to the Stanley Cup, and some simply as a result of too much travel. Having enjoyed many of these meals with friends or family and with some of them amongst the year’s very best the reality is that with time my memory has deteriorated and as life moves forward I’ve realized there is little hope to ever “catch up” or document these experiences as well as I’d hope, yet in order to preserve them I present these pictures, notes, and thoughts on the experience.
Ichiza
Deep Fried Tofu Mussel Cake with corn and carrots
Pudding – Tofu Crème Caramel
Honey Toast with Ice Cream
Fried Quail Egg
Mushroom Chawanmushi
…my first day in Vegas always goes later than anticipated, but not for the same reason as others since it is usually a late night reservation at one of the restaurant’s top tier restaurants that keeps me out late and true to form we could not get a seat at Kabuto until 9:00pm thus allowing plenty of time for small plates and sake beforehand at Ichiza, just across the street on Spring Mountain. A venerable establishment amongst both tourists and locals long before Raku put LV’s Chinatown on everybody’s ‘must visit’ list I’d wanted to visit Ichiza during my past two visits to Sin City but both due to location and the rest of the city’s eats it had always fallen on the ‘next time’ list until we literally found ourselves in the area with nothing else to do.
Small and tucked away on the second floor of a non-descript strip mall with a podium for check-in leading to a largely open floor plan with kitchen at center, seating at tables and bars (on chairs or on tatami style mats,) and menus hanging on walls all around Ichiza looks like chaos when you first enter and with seating tight the process of placing an order literally consists of walking around the room to figure out what you want as the chefs work quietly and vigorously churning out plate after plate. With my pal conserving appetite and focusing on sake while I perused the options it would not be long before we placed our order – sitting, sipping cold sake, and taking in the scene.
Beginning first with the savories, though food didn’t necessarily arrive in that order, a trio of options presented two excellent fried options, the quail eggs still jiggly on the inside with a golden exterior crunch and the mussel cake surprisingly vegetal and creamy thanks to the house made tofu and fresh corn. Less successful, the smooth egg custard was spot on in texture but with the mushrooms only resting atop the chawanmushi the base was largely flavorless aside from salt and onion – even when mixed the only part really worth eating being the bits directly exposed to the fungus.
Moving on to sweets my selection of the tofu pudding was at our server’s behest and unlike the chawanmushi this creamy custard was lovely, the silky texture somewhere between a true flan and something more dense like cheesecake, and as to the Honey Toast – it is enormous, it is delicious, and with the block of bread hollowed out and toasted to just short of crisp before being slathered in warm honey and topped off with a ball of ice cream it is best shared – particularly if you have dinner or drinking plans for later.
Kabuto
Grape Sake Cocktail
Jack Mackerel in Sweet Vinegar
Sashimi Course: Bluefin Tuna (Spain,) Ocean Trout (Scotland,) Jack Mackerel, Young Yellowtail (Japan), 3-year aged Soy
Grilled Course: Spanish Mackerel with Miso, Kobe Beef with Kumquat, Flying Fish with Salt
Sushi: Deep Sea Porgy, Yellow Grouper, Cornet, King Yellowtail, Triangle, Sea Urchin over Salmon Roe, Sea Eel, Sweet Omelet
Toro Handroll
Fish Miso Soup
Matcha
Green Tea Cocoa Cake
Strawberry Layer Cake
The main event of the evening, a seat at Gen-san’s easily missed Kabuto, finally arrived and true to the rumors the $80 Yoroi Menu would not disappoint; easily the best deal on fresh sushi in the Vegas area and, with a focus on edomae-sushi plus fish arriving 4-7x per week from Japan (depending on demand,) a truly authentic experience in a city where ‘authenticity’ is generally questionable at best.
All clean lines and zen, blonde woods and flowers, a small slit window at the entrance and a couple of tables the action here is clearly a seat at the sushi bar and placing oneself in the hands of the itamae in order to bear witness to the incredible knife skills as piece after piece of fish arrives perfect and smooth, the rice fragrant and warm, with ample description of province and the occasional anecdote. Featuring fresh wasabi, house-made aged soy and creamy miso, plus an extensive sake list and dessert program responsible for the best mille crepe I’ve had to date my only regret in visiting Kabuto is that I did not book an earlier reservation and order the longer menu; a mistake I’ll not make in the future.
The lost meals entries consist of meals that occurred at various times throughout 2012 which, for any number of reasons, escaped my documentation – some due to a cross country move and a new job, some due to the Los Angeles Kings run to the Stanley Cup, and some simply as a result of too much travel. Having enjoyed many of these meals with friends or family and with some of them amongst the year’s very best the reality is that with time my memory has deteriorated and as life moves forward I’ve realized there is little hope to ever “catch up” or document these experiences as well as I’d hope, yet in order to preserve them I present these pictures, notes, and thoughts on the experience.
Napa Valley Flight
Neapolitan Margherita with Bufala Mozzarella, San Marzano Tomatos, Fresh Basil, Frantoia Olive Oil
Roman Duck Confit with Oven Roasted Duck, Bufala Mozzarella, Fresh Spinach, Red Onion, Over Easy Egg
Semolina Gnocchi with Smoked Nueske’s Bacon, Peas, Black Truffle Crema
Sweet Bufala Ricotta – Honey and Roasted Pistachios
Clearly believing two ovens to be better than one Due Forni has been gathering a lot of attention in Las Vegas ever since opening its doors and given the convenient off strip location and lunch hours the pizza and wine bar became our first stop after my friend’s plane touched down. A surprisingly large space with earth tones, wood, and Edison bulbs serving as decoration while two Neapolitano brick ovens dominate the back half of the restaurant turning out both Roman and Neapolitan pies our arrival found the restaurant almost entirely empty and within moments we were seated, a young man named Eric proving a competent if not slightly overzealous server.
Wanting to see what the restaurant had to offer both from the ovens and the kitchen I was given the charge of ordering while my friend enjoyed a $24 flight of hefty reds and with so few patrons at 2:00pm our pizzas arrived quickly, a superlative Margherita with oozing puddles of imported mozzarella and bright, assertive tomato sauce beneath a slick of olive oil and basil followed by a crisp and crackling 500F Roman style pie with tomatoes replaced by a creamy egg intermingling with rich, smoky duck and strong notes of red onion. Generally a fan of more blister and bubble on my Neapolitan but thoroughly impressed by the ingredient quality of both pies I’d be hard pressed to choose a favorite, though I imagine a Margherita Roman with some Prosciutto would be perfect.
Unable to resist gnocchi, whether flour or potato, an order of this semolina iteration arrived alongside the duck confit and although rich and plentiful with great texture I personally found the dish to be a touch too saline and a bit heavy on truffle oil – the sort of dish that probably would have benefitted by a glass of something dry and white – and ending on the “RICH” theme I’ll simply say that anyplace willing to serve a cup full of sweetened cheese topped with honey and nuts as dessert is worth visiting in my book…smoky, creamy, sweet – definitely a must order, and perfect with coffee.
The lost meals entries consist of meals that occurred at various times throughout 2012 which, for any number of reasons, escaped my documentation – some due to a cross country move and a new job, some due to the Los Angeles Kings run to the Stanley Cup, and some simply as a result of too much travel. Having enjoyed many of these meals with friends or family and with some of them amongst the year’s very best the reality is that with time my memory has deteriorated and as life moves forward I’ve realized there is little hope to ever “catch up” or document these experiences as well as I’d hope, yet in order to preserve them I present these pictures, notes, and thoughts on the experience.
Bread and Butter
Strawberry Doughnut
Pecan Honey Bun
Christmas Tree Old Fashioned
Chocolate Croissant
Ham, Egg, Cheese, Rosemary Bechamel Wafflewich
Driving to Vegas for the first time and thus with far more off-strip mobility than prior my Christmas vacation began in Henderson as I awaited the arrival of my friend’s plane from Florida – a perfect time for pastry beginning at former Bouchon Bakery master Chris Herrin’s Bread and Butter, a large bakery and sandwich shop in a rather unattractive strip mall but a true case where you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.
Featuring friendly service, ample seating, and a selection of pastries both classic and novel I was lucky to arrive just as a fresh order of brioche strawberry doughnuts were emerging from the fryer and identical to those at Bouchon both the eggy dough and thick jam were expertly crafted – a theme that would carry over to both the crisp and flaky chocolate croissant and the nearly half-pound cupcake, rife with cocoa and topped with thick vanilla frosting. Less successful, the honey bun was simply a case of an item sitting on the counter for too long – the flavor fine but the yeasted dough already getting weighed down by the ample, rich toppings.
Moving to more savory options, the restaurant’s signature Wafflewich would prove to be every bit as delicious as any sandwich crafted of similar high quality ingredients but literally drowned with creamy Bechamel I personally would have preferred the waffles to be a bit more crisp, perhaps even a bit ‘crunchy’ for texture…but I have to say the rosemary was an inspired touch to what was otherwise a well executed croque madame and although I’m not sure I would call Bread and Butter a ‘destination’ bakery I’d certainly return if driving up from Phoenix again.
Crepeshack and Waffles
Bananas Foster with Banana Nut Ice Cream Crepe Cone
Wandering the local shops and checking out parts of Nevada I’d never before had the chance to explore a later stop would take me to “Crepe Shack & Waffles,” another Henderson newcomer where I at first considered another waffle but instead went with a crepe – the right choice, I’m rather certain, as the fluffy and light disk was made-to-order by a friendly young woman named Sandra and subsequently rolled into a cone and stuffed chock-a-block full of Banana Nut Ice Cream, Brown Sugar, Cinnamon, Fresh Bananas, Caramel, and a dash of Sea Salt.
Apparently a Japanese trend now gaining popularity on both coasts and featuring a large, spacious, and modern look with friendly servers, myriad options, and great prices ($5 for a crepe cone, $6 for a topped waffle) this is definitely a trend I can support, though in an ideal situation a place doing such a thing with house-made ice creams and condiments would be all the more appealing – and to find that in Vegas I think the best option is a crepe and some ice cream or gelato at Jean-Philippe in the Bellagio at nearly twice the price.
The Why: Generally quite fond of Italian food and events with other like-minded folks the 5th Annual Christmas Festival at Andreoli seemed like a great opportunity to check out a wide range of Andreoli’s products while simultaneously meeting up with some other members of phxfoodnerds.com. From the expanded menu to the open-air atmosphere, live music, and beautiful weather (a novelty for this Ohioan in December) it seemed like a can’t miss event.
The Reservation: None needed – just show up, order, and take a seat.
The Setting/Service: I can’t speak to the ‘norm’ at Andreoli, but for this event I loved the place – a bustling market full of high end Italian goods, as many people speaking Italian as English, and live music filling the air. A family run operation from front to back service was rather perfunctory, but everyone was friendly, smiling, and happy to answer questions from a crowd that I’m certain was several times more than the market/restaurant is generally accustomed to.
The Food: There were five of us and between the group fifteen items were sampled at a total of approximately $30 per person – give or take. Plenty of wines were available, though I do not believe anyone imbibed.
Insalatina al Sapore di Mare: $18. The weakest course of the meal for me, this simple salad featured clams, shrimp, squid, and fish in a thick lacquer of olive oil with olives and celery aplenty. Fresh and light I simply found the clams too mild while the olives and celery dominated the flavor profile.
Crostini di Fegatini alla Fiorentina: $5. Nothing complicated here, just rough ground chicken liver pate over homemade toasted bread with a bit of parsley. Served chilled and ample in portion, no complaints.
Frittelle Calabresi: $2.50 each. A bit oily for my liking these eggplant and zucchini fritters were nicely tinged with oregano and vinegar notes but I believe they suffered for the size of the crowd; warmer and prepped to order I imagine they could be exemplary.
Maialino: $18. The most limited item on the menu this spit-roast baby piglet was gone by the time we left and although the skin could have been crispier the flavors were spot on – the pork supple and rife with notes of garlic, rosemary, coriander, and pepper while the skin was slightly sweet and plenty smoky.
Panino con Porchetta: $8.95. Much like the Maialino this could have used a bit more crackle on the surface but all things being equal it would be pretty hard to complain about crusty Italian bread wrapped around warm pork roast with plenty of black pepper, fennel and light citrus notes.
Baccala` in Umido con Polenta: $18. One of my primary reasons for wanting to visit Andreoli in the first place was this dish and thankfully it did not disappoint one bit. Big in portion, huge in flavor, and in my opinion the most well executed dish of the afternoon I figured going into it that the cod would be excellent and as good as it was, the biggest shocker of the dish was perfect execution of the polenta – toothsome, dense, and a veritable sponge for both the tomatoes and the briny fish.
Caponata Sicula: $5. Simple, savory, and perhaps the deal of the day this plate of tender eggplant, briny capers, pine nuts, tomatoes, balsamic, and olive oil with hints of basil and onion was plenty to share and would have only been better with some warm bread for dipping.
Trippa alla Toscanaccia: $14. With almost half of our table having never eaten tripe and another not really a fan of the dish I figured I’d be doing most of the legwork on this dish and although everyone took a taste my suspicions fortuitously proved correct – an acquired taste for sure, this was really good. Thin like soup and plenty fatty despite being loaded with meat with notes of onion, tomato, and vinegar at the fore while mint and garlic came through on the palate this was another place that some extra bread would have been welcomed as far too much broth remained at the end.
Mille Feuille: $7. While I contest this should have been referred to as a Napoleon I guess it really doesn’t matter because regardless of nationality what we received was flaky pastry wrapped around lightly sweetened pastry cream. Clearly not as transcendent as some of the a la minute options being turned out elsewhere as this one had been stored in the chiller all day I have to say I was largely impressed by the separation of the layers and lack of sogginess – definitely on par with the version at Essence and possibly better.
Rhum Baba: $2 each. Also straight from the chilled case these traditional baba were everything one could hope from the classic dish – a buttery ball of pastry drown in rum; a sledgehammer of flavor up front with a buttery sweet finish; at one bite each I’m pretty sure I’d have been tipsy with a half dozen.
Struffoli: $4. Another very traditional selection you don’t really see all that often at Italian markets or bakeries these marble sized pastry balls were crisp on the outside, soft on the inside, and absolutely dredged in honey. A stark textural juxtaposition to the baba which was soft throughout I personally enjoyed these a lot, though having sat for a while the honey had begun to harden which made them a bit difficult to extract from the small dish.
Cornetti: $2.50. Golden crisp on the outside, buttery caverns within, and fortunately a brand new batch when I ran back in to make my purchase this warm nutella croissant was the highlight of the sweets for me – a strong contender for best croissant in town that remained fluffy despite the chocolate-hazenut filling while the exterior shattered to the tooth.
Sfogliatelle: $3. Lightly citrus thanks to the use of candied lemon peel, even crispier than the cornetti on the outside, and a pillow of ricotta smoothness within – if you go to Andreoli and don’t order one of these you’re missing out…as a matter of fact, I’d go so far as to suggest that this item alone is worth a visit to Andreoli as it was every bit as good as any I’ve ever tasted on either coast (admittedly having not yet been to Italy.)
Pignoli: $2. Listed as pignoli but not appearing like the traditional round pine nut cookies I’ve seen (or subsequently looked up) this little pastry was dry and sweet, loaded with notes of almond paste and pine nuts plus “two types of flour” and cinnamon. Somewhat akin to biscotti in texture while far more nutty in flavor this would have gone great with a shot of espresso – something I surprisingly didn’t see at the Christmas celebration.
Schiacciata uva: $4. I’d never tried this prior to Andreoli’s and, as a matter of fact, I’d never even seen it. Quite simply a focaccia base with fresh grapes placed at the center prior to baking thus allowing the juices to infuse the dough as it cooked this was sweet, light, and full of flavor – the sort of dish that would be easy to whip up for a party and equally easy to dress up in any number of variations with seasonal fruits, cheeses, or fillings.
The Verdict: Fresh, rustic, and very authentic this one definitely goes on the ‘under the radar’ list and while I’m unable to speak to Andreoli’s quality during normal business hours I can only say that based on what I experienced at the Christmas festival I’m eager to return.
