Lost at sea

[March 28th, 2007] Bay 13, the splashiest addition to the Pearl District's restaurant scene, bills itself as Portland's "first sustainable seafood restaurant." We'll get to the sustainable part later, but let's start with the puzzle of why, in a region known for great seafood, Portland hasn't got a first-class fish house. Sure, all of the city's best restaurants have fish dishes on the menu. What I'm talking about is a establishment that specializes in seafood—and not just fish and chips. A place where you'd expect a wider selection of higher-quality fish than you could get retail, a menu that shows it off and an expert touch at cooking it.

When the best our fair city can offer is Jake's or Salty's, it seems to me that niche is ripe for filling. Obviously figuring the same, Moana Hotel & Restaurant Group, a California-based corporation that runs about 20 upscale restaurants (including the local Paragon), launched Bay 13. I guess they were right. The doors opened Feb. 12, and half the population of the Pearl seems to have walked right in and sat right down.

A renovation of a 1909 warehouse, the vast space stretches from a horseshoe-shaped bar with seductively comfy banquettes to dining tables that can accommodate around 200 customers. With 20-foot ceilings, warm woods and cool glass and concrete, Bay 13 looks as stylish as an architect's rendering come to life. The cavernous, open design guarantees buzz; it also guarantees that on a busy night—here, that's most nights—you'll bust a gut trying to make yourself heard.

The hustling staff clearly aims to please. Managers are vigilant; servers charming, attentive and willing to seek out answers to questions about ingredients and cooking methods. But when it comes to the food, all is not well. This isn't just new-restaurant syndrome, recognizable by wild inconsistency night to night, dish to dish. Bay 13's problems are depressingly consistent: Despite first-class raw materials, the food is decent but dull. Two of the magic ingredients in cooking are salt and acidity, and the kitchen seems clueless about using either one. In the meantime, a lot of good fish are dying in vain.

Take their salsa verde, an essential element of the menu, served with all the "simply grilled" fish. A classic Italian sauce based on olive oil and fresh herbs, especially parsley and basil—it is meant to be both tart and salty. Yet Bay 13's version is flat, without a sign of the anchovies, capers or lemon juice (or even chopped pickles or vinegar-cured olives in some recipes) that would bring the flavor of the fish to life.

The menu descriptions sound fine, but the reality doesn't deliver. Petrale sole baked with Dungeness crab and served over spinach ($24) is just a hotel-banquet entree when the promised lemon caper sauce is missing in action. You might imagine "butter-braised" Maine scallops ($21.50) providing a stimulating contrast with a creamy tomato risotto, but not when they're cooked to a rubbery consistency and sliced into thin rounds.

Dishes billed as grilled arrive pallid, without a whiff of smoke or a smidge of char. A generous portion of fine Dungeness crab ($11.50) was wasted in a goopy cocktail of oversweet mango salsa and lime-free "lime cream." I was surprised to discover that "BBQ oysters" ($7.50) means the bivalves are deep-fried in batter, then covered with a syrupy sauce. The concoction might have worked if the spicy harissa and tart pickled onions that came alongside had been more assertive.

The first dish we tasted in four visits to Bay 13—a ceviche of firm rockfish, zingy citrus, hot chiles and a touch of sweetness—was probably the best, its lively balance of flavors and textures highlighting, in retrospect, what was wrong with almost everything else. Two soups were consistently fine: the New England-style "chowda" (their spelling; cup $5, bowl $8), chock full of clams and tasting of fresh cream, and a silky-textured sweet-potato bisque perfectly complemented by smoked shrimp (cup $4, bowl $7).

The kitchen makes some odd decisions. Fresh lemon is served with many dishes, but rather than being cut in wedges it arrives in half-moons, which are damn near impossible to squeeze. The brisket in a sandwich ($10.50), instead of being pulled or sliced, was cut into an un-chewable hunk; for a moment I thought I'd been sent the hamburger by mistake. The waitress warned us that an entree of black cod was "kind of a small portion." No kidding: about 3 ounces for $25. And what's a niÇoise salad doing on the menu in March?

As for what makes seafood sustainable, it depends on who you ask. For example, Bay 13 has been featuring fresh, farm-raised Scottish salmon ($21.50). Though most farm-raised salmon is reviled by environmentalists, many experts say the Scots have such clean-and-green farming operations that their fish are totally acceptable. This time of year, a number of conscientious local chefs prefer to serve wild salmon that was frozen at sea during the fishing season. Which is the more environmentally friendly choice? That's a debate for a bigger space than I've got here. It seems Bay 13 is making a good-faith effort to address this important issue, and any customer who wants more information can ask for it. In any case, I'm looking forward to the fish market they're planning to open next door sometime in July, because these guys know how to buy fish.

One Bay 13 sustainability initiative I wish other restaurants would copy: Rather than sell bottled water (an environmental disaster, which wastes fuel to ship an ordinary commodity with fancy labels from distant locations, and creates piles of empty bottles), the restaurant filters local tap water and pours it free, in flat or sparkling versions, from reusable carafes. How nice to end that tiresome "bottled or tap" conversation.

Alcohol choices are first-rate. Several unusual and unfiltered sakes complement the sushi bar, and a thoughtful selection of regional wine producers includes a special section featuring new-wave Oregon chardonnays, which deserve more attention.

Though "corporate" is often used as an epithet in this town, the truth is that a company like Moana brings expertise to the table that should benefit local restaurant-goers. As chains go, if we were lucky enough to attract a branch of the Oceanaire Seafood Room, I'd be first in line; I've had flat-out fantastic meals at their restaurants in several cities. But as for Bay 13, it seems the admirals at headquarters have pushed this handsome new vessel out to sea without a navigator. Portland seafood lovers deserve a course correction.

WHO IS HEIDI YORKSHIRE, ANYWAY?

For Heidi Yorkshire’s first food writing project, she spent two years in the kitchen at the original Spago in West Hollywood, collaborating with pastry chef Nancy Silverton on Nancy’s first cookbook, Desserts. Heidi contributed travel, wine and food stories to Bon Appetit for almost two decades, and her work has appeared in Travel & Leisure, the Washington Post, the Los Angeles Times, Wine Spectator, Decanter, and many other magazines and newspapers.

Heidi wrote the weekly wine column for The Oregonian from 1997-2002. She is the author of two wine books, Wine Savvy (an IACP/Julia Child Cookbook Award finalist) and Simply Wine. A certified wine educator, she taught Pinot Noir 101 at the International Pinot Noir Celebration for six years, and has spoken at national conferences of the International Association of Culinary Professionals, American Institute of Wine & Food, Society of Wine Educators and Women for WineSense.

From 2002-2006, Heidi worked on business development of a cheese factory and a custom butter manufacturing business in the Willamette Valley. Although neither project came to fruition, she is now a business adviser for the Small Business Development Center, helping entrepreneurs plan new specialty-food businesses.

Heidi was a judge for the James Beard Foundation Restaurant Awards for more than 10 years. She has also judged the IACP Cookbook Awards, the James Beard Foundation Book Awards and the Association of Food Journalists awards.

Heidi was one of the first volunteer organizers of Portland Farmers Market, and spent many years on the board of directors. She conceived and ran the Chef in the Market cooking demonstration series from 1993-2002. She was the creator of the Summer Loaf bread festival and the market’s main fundraiser, the Harvest Dinner, and ran both events several times.

A native of Los Angeles, Heidi lived for several years in Paris. She speaks French and Italian. She is passionate about playing guitar, practicing yoga and traveling.