Mallory
Hotel Dining Room
729 SW 15th Ave.,
223-6311
Picks:
liver with bacon, Alaskan razor clams, cheese blintzes and
sliced bananas in cream
As I plowed into the plate of calves' liver, I evoked the
spirit of the late chef James Beard. The original champion
of American food, Beard would have approved of this dinner.
The liver was grilled quickly so it remained tender, and the
accompanying rasher of bacon was crisp, smoky and lean. The
corpulent gourmand would also have been pleased by the ample
portion, more than I could eat at one sitting. He may very
well have eaten calves' liver at this very table, since he
stayed at the Mallory Hotel whenever he returned to his hometown.
The connection to Portland's most famous food celebrity
provides a little historical context, but there are other
reasons for having a meal in the Mallory dining room. The
wheeled club chairs are comfortable, there's enough light
to see what you're eating, the sedate atmosphere allows
relaxed conversation, and the food, while no threat to the
city's established bastions of fine dining, is quite good.
Take a recent appetizer special, a pair of lamb chops--pink,
juicy and encrusted with pine nuts--combined with a slab
of grilled polenta and a thick wedge of crispy, deep-fried
fresh fennel. A bit too much Dijon mustard sauce detracted
from the overall effect but didn't spoil it. It might not
have been Wildwood quality, but it was tasty. Similarly,
popcorn rock shrimp were nicely coated with a crunchy batter
and not at all greasy, and a lime vinaigrette flavored with
toasted cumin seeds proved a much better dip than the usual
cocktail sauce.
The entree specials offered a few other surprises. Roasted
chicken came with an herbed risotto, grilled mahi-mahi with
fried green tomatoes, and fusilli pasta with Thai chicken
sausage. Not what you might expect to find at a hotel best
noted for its reasonable room rates. Sometimes, however,
the execution doesn't live up to the ingredients. A swordfish
filet, for example, while well-matched with a slightly sweet
red-pepper-and-ginger hoisin sauce, was a bit overcooked
and dry. But a traditional Caesar salad was cold, crisp
and not overly dressed--albeit a little light on the anchovies--and
the crab-and-shrimp cakes on top were plump with shellfish.
The regular menu sticks with the tried-and-true, with the
dominant choices running to steaks, chops and chicken--but
salmon, halibut and Willapa Bay oysters also make an appearance.
A plate of Alaskan razor clams arrived lightly breaded and
still possessing the subtle, sweet flavor of the ocean.
The 12-ounce New York steak might not match up to the aged,
marbled cuts served at the fabled meat palaces, but it's
a serviceable cut of beef and costs about a third as much.
And the mashed potatoes were creamy with lots of butter.
A half-dozen dinner-size salads provide an alternative to
the meat-heavy offerings, though most include some form
of animal protein. Vegetarians might ask the kitchen for
substitutions. The nightly specials typically include a
meatless pasta, and that old standby, the Gardenburger,
is listed along with a massive one-third-pound chopped chuck
hamburger.
The Mallory is also a popular breakfast spot, especially
on Sunday. Families from the West Hills mingle with hotel
guests and longtime regulars from nearby apartment buildings,
many of whom adopted the hotel several years ago when Henry
Thiele's closed down. They can get the same big fluffy German
pancakes, and the cheese blintzes are tender and just barely
browned on the bottom, with the perfect amount of sour cream-and-ricotta
filling. The usual eggs and hash browns are supplemented
with dishes such as grilled polenta with tomato sauce and
poached eggs. Swedish-style scrambled eggs come topped with
smoked salmon, chives, sour cream and crushed juniper berries,
which add a pleasant, slightly astringent tang. In this
era of low-fat everything, the Mallory may be the last place
in town that offers a bowl of sliced bananas in cream, a
wonderfully old-fashioned combination that demonstrates
the power of cream to make the most everyday food taste
magical.
Since it's more affordable than the other white-tablecloth
eateries, the Mallory may be the perfect spot for the cash-impaired
who like to dress up a little, even if that means vintage
thrift. The faux marble and elaborate gold detailing around
the high ceilings add a touch of elegance--maybe faded a
bit since the hotel was new in 1912, but still classy. The
bar serves up a healthy pour at a reasonable price, so start
with a pre-dinner cocktail. Entrees include warm dinner
rolls, soup or salad, rice or potato, and some kind of vegetable--everything
but dessert. Even with wine--there are usually several decent
choices offered by the glass for $5--it's possible to do
dinner for about $25, not including tip. Food snobs and
self-styled "gourmets" might turn up their noses at the
Mallory. It's true that the food can't match what you'd
find at Portland's critically acclaimed restaurants, but
who drinks champagne every night? That's why it's so appropriate
that James Beard was a Mallory regular. He loved humble
foods like maple bars and chow mein, and he understood that
a memorable meal depended on good company more than high-priced
ingredients. So gather your own good company together some
evening at the Mallory. And try the liver.
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Willamette Week | originally
published July 7, 1999
|
