Clarke's
Restaurant 455
Second St., Lake Oswego, 636-2667
Lunch Tuesday-Friday, dinner Tuesday-Saturday.
Children welcome. Moderate-expensive.
Picks: Lobster and shrimp
risotto, house-cured salmon gravlax, grilled skirt steak,
sautéed sea bass, crème brûlée
Nice touch: Choice, mostly
Northwest wine list with reasonable prices
When British chef Jonathan Clarke came to Toulouse restaurant
in downtown Portland, he inherited a menu laden with roasted
and grilled meats. Talented chefs who take over an established
concept inevitably attempt to put their signature on things,
and Clarke did just that, lightening up the offerings with
a more elegant touch. But many chefs seek more than such
a stamp, hoping ultimately to open their own establishments.
Clarke has now done that, too, and the results at his new
eponymous restaurant in Lake Oswego are promising, if not
yet all in place. Clearly, he prepares nicely conceived
and often handsomely executed dishes that exhibit both range
and diverse cooking methods. What is less clear is whether
one can discern a focus to the cooking, a clear sense of
purpose and design as opposed to an attractive collection
we might loosely term "eclectic contemporary."
Clarke's sits in a small shopping mall just a few streets
over from Highway 43. It has the air of a tearoom, with
its floral carpet, chintz window hangings and oil paintings
featuring yet more flowers. It's not a large space, but
there's something a bit cold about it; it feels more like
a storefront establishment than a richly lived-in place.
Even when filled, it lacks energy and buzz, and the warmth
and visual appeal that beguiles and enchants. But the decor
is still in progress, so perhaps in time the ambiance will
become more appealing.
More important, there is clearly an intelligent if inconsistent
hand in the kitchen, and several dishes make a visit here
worthwhile. Clarke has placed his attention where it ought
to be--on the freshest possible ingredients and on discerning
combinations (each dish is garnished differently from the
next with thoughtful appropriateness). While he occasionally
yields to the temptation to structure a plate with an ostentatiously
architectural flourish, for the most part he shows welcome
restraint.
The best appetizer is the most unusual: risotto with shrimp
and lobster meat and a rich lobster butter. While the rice
might be a bit creamier and less grainy, the taste is nevertheless
superb and the portion quite generous; a subtle coulis of
tomato bathes the whole in a lustrous, pale pink glow. Also
not to be missed is an order of house-cured gravlax, the
salmon satiny and glistening. It's both a beautiful specimen
from the sea and a treatment respectful of the dish's Swedish
origins. A tracing of aioli on the plate lends the fresh
salmon just a bit of a jolt, the accompanying toast is perfectly
grilled, and the side salad of wild greens is nicely dressed.
Less sparkling, but still decent, is an unctuous mousse
of chicken liver enriched with Madeira and served on soft
brioche slices. One starter, however, is a failure: the
ill-named "soufflé" of goat cheese is tasteless,
unappealingly tepid and hardly better than something you'd
find at a bridge luncheon.
Clarke has a fine way with fish, and his sautéed
sea bass is correctly underdone beneath its light crust
of herbs barely broiled for crunch. Best of all are the
exquisite baby vegetables that come with the bass, just
in time for the new season. Tiny carrots, pearl onions,
haricots verts and pencil spears of asparagus, lightly tossed
in a garlic-butter sauce, make for an elegant yet very Northwest
dish. The other terrific main course is pure bistro: a grilled
skirt steak that's been marinated in a bit of red wine.
The thin and delectable slices are draped over creamy mashed
potatoes surrounded by very slender broccolini, which have
the pungent flavor of broccoli rabe. The entire ensemble
is set off by a delicate pinot noir sauce. Skirt or flank
steak is thin and tough when raw, so it must be marinated
for a long while and then broiled quickly to prevent re-toughening;
Clarke accomplishes these tasks with aplomb.
If French touches are evident in the menu, so are German,
though perhaps Alsatian is more like it. Pork chops arrive
moist and smoky, bedded on braised red cabbage and mashed
yams. Permeated by maple syrup and a dusting of cinnamon,
this sweet dish also takes on overtones of Vermont. For
vegetarians the wild mushroom and Stilton-stuffed ravioli
pooled in beurre blanc will be welcome; it makes for a pleasant
dish, well-concocted and quite simple.
A couple of items need work. Beef braised with Guinness
comes together nicely, the long-simmered meat gaining the
proper texture in the dark stout. But the dumplings served
with it are starchy and doughy; they almost ruin an otherwise
noble Irish inspiration. On a recent visit the oddest dish
of all was a duck special. The boiled fowl was tender and
tasty but swimming in broth, less a fowl pot-au-feu
than a kind of bland duck soup with vegetables.
The dessert list is brief. The best number is a warm and
smooth crème brûlée, the surface crackling
and properly firm. New York-style lemon cheesecake might
seem rather ho-hum, but Clarke has turned the banal dish
into a pretty picture: The cake, its texture almost chiffon-like,
is in the form of a cylinder, and strawberries in their
own juice are pooled at its base. Unless you have an achingly
sweet tooth, you should avoid the maple tart; one or two
bites were all I could manage of this intense, concentrated
blast of sugar.
At Clarke's the proceedings begin when the bread arrives,
tied with white paper ribbons. It's a sweet gesture and
suggests the restaurant's desire to welcome its guests,
as if the loaves of bread were so many party favors. That's
well and good, but Clarke's needs to tie some other loose
ends together as well; when it does, it may draw from Portland
and not just the suburbs. It is already one of the better
out-of-town options, but whether it's currently worth the
drive is not completely clear. For the moment I'm mildly
optimistic.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Willamette Week | originally
published April 14,
1999
|
