Colosso
1932 NE Broadway, 288-3333
Open 5 pm to late
Best bets: Roasted nuts, baked goat cheese, nut brittle,
grilled squid, beef medallions with citrusy hot sauce
I drove by Colosso for months, wondering how such
a big name could fit the tiny space. When I finally stopped
and went inside, I found out. Julie Colosso's eponymous restaurant,
expansive but not giant-sized, fills the former home of Kitchen
Venus like a gold ingot turned inside out. The gilt walls
of the boxy, low-ceilinged rooms shimmer in the long light
of late afternoon. Windows along one entire wall bring a little
of Northeast Broadway inside, and the bar tucks cleverly into
a corner for an illusion of depth.
The Spanish-inspired offerings consist of nearly a dozen
small plates under the heading of "tapas," along with a
few salads and a handful of slightly larger entrees. If
you think the menu listings look like glorified bar food,
you're right. Tapas, after all, were originally things like
a raw quail's egg on a little plate, perched atop a glass
of strong Rioja to keep the flies away. But we're a long
way from the arid wine country of Spain. At Colosso you
might opt for a lime rickey to go under your plate. It won't
hold a raw egg but can be filled with tentempies,
or bar snacks--roasted filberts and almonds, all salty and
hot, alongside a crackling morsel of sweet house-made nut
brittle.
I decided that a glass of mellow tempranillo, Spain's No.
1 red wine grape, would be the perfect complement to a round
of creamy baked goat cheese and an unusual spread of ground
pumpkin seeds mixed with chipotle chilies. I liked it, even
though it wasn't the best match for the slice of grilled
polenta topped with tequila-spiked apple jelly, which was
a bit sweet. I liked the garlicky sautéed shrimp,
with its fiery dose of red pepper, even more.
By now, terra cotta ramekins--Colosso's version of the
little glass-topping plate--had begun to crowd the table.
I pushed them aside to make room for calamares a la plancha,
perfectly grilled squid, sweet and tender, served with sautéed
spinach and anointed with a squeeze of lemon juice. A plate
of sautéed button mushrooms aswim in a soupy blend
of sherry and lemon juice also slipped in somehow. I speared
a creamy ring of calamari, took a sip of wine, sopped up
the mushroom liquid with a crusty piece of bread and ate
the last barely warm filbert. I was happy.
This Spanish smorgasbord approach is probably the best
way to eat at Colosso, which is really more a bar serving
good food than a full-fledged restaurant. The tapas cost
between $5 and $8, so you can sample a variety without spending
a fortune. With a small group you can eat your way through
most of the tapas menu. The flavors are robust, since these
are foods meant to go with strong drink.
If you need something fresh and green, there are a couple
of options. In the ensalada Granada, wild greens, cucumber
and tomatoes are tossed with caramelized filberts, the sharp
Spanish cheese manchego and pomegranate vinaigrette. The
spinach salad includes capicola ham, pungent goat cheese
and pine nuts. Potato salad flavored with cilantro, red
pepper-flecked grilled eggplant and surprisingly refreshing
cumin-marinated shredded carrots make up the trio de ensaladas.
The entrees, listed as "platos" and distinguishable from
the tapas by the inclusion of a few pieces of roasted potato
and sautéed spinach, aren't quite as exciting. A
moist chicken breast is encased in crunchy ground almonds
and served with a red pepper sauce, and a pair of boneless
pork loin chops are split and stuffed with herbed goat cheese.
They're fine, but you might be happier if you order them
as another plate to share. Better are the beef medallions,
meltingly thin slices of tenderloin so good the citrusy
hot sauce that comes with them isn't really necessary.
Colosso is one of the new breed of restaurants that have
begun to appear around Portland in the past few years. They
typically cater to a younger crowd, often keeping late hours
so hungry music lovers can get a bite after the show, and
prices often acknowledge a lower level of disposable income.
Run by a new generation of restaurateur more willing to
take chances, they push the notion of eating out a little
closer to the edge. Sometimes they fall off. But when they're
at their best, and Colosso hits it more often than not,
they prove that moderately priced, casual dining can be
imaginative and delicious. While we like to complain that
fast food and corporate cookery have dulled the national
taste buds, the offerings at these emerging eateries shows
that our culinary future isn't completely hopeless.
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Willamette Week | originally
published May 5, 1999
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