William's
on 12th, 207
SE 12th Ave., 963-9226
Open 5:30-9:30 pm Tuesdays-Saturdays. Children welcome but
unusual. Expensive.
Picks: Sautéed lobster with pasta, pappardelle
with roasted quail, rack of lamb, tarte
Tatin, crême brulée
Nice touch: The single
most entrancing painting in any Portland restaurant.
William Henry, the chef and owner of an eponymous restaurant
newly opened in a neighborhood storefront, is going to get
tired one day--not of cooking, but of telling customers about
the immense and stunning painting that covers nearly an entire
wall of his charming place. Everyone who eats there wants
to know about "Maritza," the supine Russian odalesque whose
fetchingly full figure is draped across a Turkish divan, daring
diners to pay more attention to her than to their truffle-glazed
filet mignon. She was found in a local gallery that had rescued
her from several homes whose owners, in turn, had retrieved
her from the basement of the Arctic Club in Seattle, where
she was retired, grimed with smoke, after hanging for 50 years
above the men's bar. This history should be put on little
cards, to allow Mr. Henry more time in his kitchen.
William's on 12th has a slightly formal look, almost incongruous
for this Southeast Portland neighborhood, yet it's entirely
comfortable, with cozy seating and perfectly modulated lighting.
There's a 19th-century feel to the place, which features
deep green walls, wooden floors, early Northwest landscape
paintings that complement but never compete with the star
on her chaise longue, and beautiful Victorian chairs that
once graced a ship's salon.
This is a restaurant one wants very much to succeed, for
considerable thought and attention have gone into the ambience;
and the dishes, both in appearance and concept, are presented
with the same attention to detail. The food is advertised
as "American-French," though it's not clear to me exactly
how that rubric, deliberately chosen, differs from "French-American."
Certain items common to French cooking appear--sweetbreads
and tarte Tatin--but the highly composed look of some dishes
and the rich sauces on others more truly ground the cooking
in Gallic modes. Williams strives for an exquisite design
to his plates, nesting ingredients in one another and sculpting
the assemblages, but without pretentious verticality. There
are no skyscrapers on 12th Avenue.
But several experiences at William's suggest a menu that
is curiously uneven. When dishes work, they shine; when
they don't, you wonder at the curious lapses. The appetizer
list is modest--only four choices, and one a simple wild
green salad. The list changes quite frequently, so if the
stunning arrangement of sautéed lobster wrapped in
pappardelle (wide floppy noodles) surrounded by nuggets
of butternut squash is available, do not hesitate to get
it. This opulent and eminently satisfying concoction, made
even richer with crème fraîche, indicates where
the chef's inclinations lie: to knock you out with pleasure.
Unfortunately he needs a bit more control. In a dish of
gross miscalculation, Henry takes a slab of oozing baked
brie and sets it in a lake of melted brown sugar surrounded
by slices of pear and hazelnuts; it makes for a saccharine
experience. So cloyingly rich is this item that it seems
more like dessert, its very sweetness threatening to overwhelm
the rest of the meal. This confusion is catching: There's
a cheese platter with pears (very un-French as an appetizer),
and oddly enough this plate was also one of the four desserts
offered on the same menu. I admit I've never seen the same
dish served as both starter and finisher; needless to say,
we did not order it twice.
William's does better by its main courses and its real
desserts. The best dish is another wide noodle pasta infused
with arugula, then wrapped around a generous portion of
very succulent quail, the whole thing finished with a splendid
bordelaise sauce of red wine, bone marrow and shallots.
Here is richness but held in check, with all ingredients
beautifully integrated. The grilled venison has a deep,
earthly taste, garnished with Brussels sprouts (always good
to see this under-appreciated vegetable) and a cluster of
whole baby carrots; in addition, there's a torte made from
Yukon potatoes, which seems as right with this venison as
Yorkshire pudding with roast beef. Other things are just
a bit off-target. Large sea scallops had a nice sear on
them, and it was nice to see them served with shaved white
truffles; but they were too dry, the result of a couple
of minutes' excess cooking, and not all the flavors were
well integrated--perhaps ingredients needed to be put together
in the pan a few minutes sooner. The sweetbreads were tasty,
ringing a mound of airy mashed potatoes and drizzled with
a mahogany sauce deglazed from the pan; but they as well
suffered from too much time in the pan, losing the creaminess
that gives them their characteristic ambrosia. Again, the
will is there, but more attention to precision is needed.
The desserts are the triumph of the dinner. It's rare to
find a crème brûlée that's different
from the pack, but William's version uses farm-fresh eggs,
and the result is a soft and deep yellow, wonderfully creamy
in texture: pure oozy hedonism. Homemade ice creams are
in the same lofty league; I've enjoyed both the purple-brown
espresso and the "cider and Granny Smith apple" flavors.
Henry is a very young chef with serious ambitions. His
restaurant has real promise, though it evidently needs some
changes in the menu and some fine tuning. Young chefs tend
to show their excitement, but they must grow into maturity,
which means having an unerring sense of what works and what
doesn't. It's my sense that Henry is not there yet, but
give him time and he'll assuredly be on his way. Meanwhile,
William's on 12th is a spot to keep your eye upon.
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Willamette Week | originally
published January 26,
2000
|
