|
243-2122 EXT. 371 Avalon Picks: Potato-wrapped soft shell crab, roast langoustine, black cod and baby abalone, roast baby chicken, sliced beef tenderloin, raspberry soufflé, trio of pot de crème, warm pear mille-feuille. Nice touch: Gorgeous views of the Willamette River; stunning interior spaces.
Avalon never achieved its potential in its original, Southern-style incarnation as the Avalon Grill. But under Roy Breiman's inspired direction, the restaurant has dropped the "Grill" and the Louisiana accents and replaced them with a Franco-Asian cuisine comprising some of the most elegant and complex dishes to appear in Portland since the opening of Couvron. Indeed that French restaurant's style of layered, architectural presentations shows up at Avalon with near-fetishistic regularity. Dinner here is a series of aesthetic surprises, with picturesque groupings of exquisitely transformed ingredients, visual folies and playful combinations backed by an imprimatur of high seriousness. When the dishes work, they demand from the diner a palatal pause to reflect on the flavors and on the ingenuity that has treated ingredients so creatively. A soft shell crab appetizer is not the entire edible crustacean, scooped from Chesapeake Bay, but rather a morsel of its delectable meat wrapped in a wafer-thin slice of potato and quickly fried. It is garnished with wasabi-infused flying-fish roe, mint, Thai basil and caramelized mango, all circled by a light ginger-and-chive sauce. This is highly worked food, as the description suggests. Another appetizer of roast langoustine--merely bite-size--perches on a perfectly seared nugget of foie gras accompanied by two slices of potato so delicate that they permit a leaf of cilantro to be embossed between them like a vegetative fossil. Lotus root wafers appear with regularity. On each occasion at Avalon my guests and I could not bring ourselves to consume an appetizer until we had first gazed our fill and puzzled out the intricate cooking and assemblage techniques. Both dishes are pure heaven, but such artistry comes at a price: $15 and $16 apiece. Starters are generally more refined than the main courses: Witness a stacked cylinder of three fish tartars--ahi, salmon and yellowfin--topped with a julienne of jade-hued cucumbers and surrounded by salmon and sturgeon eggs that break in the mouth with a satisfying pop. The raw fish could be a bit colder, however, to accentuate its bracing freshness. On a recent visit, one starter was quite disappointing: The wild mushroom risotto was more like rice soup--we had to ask for spoons. The flavors were woodsy enough, but the veal stock was far too salty and the soupiness left the rice excessively soft. Risotto is best when creamy, but this version was awash in broth. An order of foie gras arrived so underdone it tended to run off the fork. The only other mistake had to do with the bread: An order of naan (an incongruous choice for an Asian-inflected French cuisine even if one stretches to consider India "oriental") was positively doughy if not soggy. Breiman's head is in the appetizers, but his heart is in the entrees. Every main course we tried was stunningly good. Roast chicken, because it's so familiar and simple, is often a reliable test of a kitchen. This one, a treatment at once soul-satisfying and sumptuous, is as good as it gets--supple, suffused with garlic shoots that impart a softer ambrosia than do the cloves, and richly sauced with truffled morels that blend oozingly into the creamy potatoes. The most exemplary East-West fusion is a Vietnamese pot-au-feu, a tender and hearty stew long-braised to render its sauce a deep mahogany. Here it's accented with Vietnamese spices and served Eastern style with fresh basil, lime and red chilies on the side so one may change the taste at will. Sliced beef tenderloin is a tower of power; the beautifully cooked meat forms a structure atop a foundation of the ubiquitous foie gras (bring it on!) glazed with plum wine and mounded with caramelized onions in pinot noir so long-simmered that they resemble delicately flavored red cabbage. Breiman may be at his best with fish; he cooks two masterfully. One that reflects his Asian interests is a whole black bass fried and curled around a bed of crackling fried spinach; it's a very crispy affair, but the white flesh remains moist and meaty, not always the case in Asian restaurants. On the side is a brik, a Tunisian turnover that may be perked up with the accompanying sweet-and-sour sauce. This is a bold combination, an international mix-and-match that works surprisingly well. The other fish preparation is more refined: black cod, baby abalone and fresh local porcini mushrooms, all slightly underdone for extreme tenderness. The plate is arranged with sculptural precision. Desserts are designed with equal attention to detail. I can imagine no better use of raspberries than Avalon's hot soufflé doused with crème anglaise, the sauce enhancing but never overwhelming the cumulous whites. Two other sweets stand out: a troika of pot de crème, including spicy chocolate, ginger and mandarin orange, each one creamy and smooth; and a flaky mille-feuille, its layers sandwiching warm pears and accompanied by homemade chocolate sorbet. In a nice final touch, coffee is served in a French press. The restaurant is perhaps the most glamorous one in town: Large expanses of glass open to an unspoiled view of the Willamette in its pristine, Huck Finn state opposite Ross Island. An art deco look is purchased with plush tuxedo chairs, rich woods, railings that create the effect of an ocean liner, and a wine bar glowing with amber lighting. On a warm summer eve the patio dining may be the most pleasant in Portland, even if envious joggers cast longing looks at your table. The dinnerware is handsome, shaped and hued to specific dishes, starting with a lustrous black for the complimentary amuse-gueule, usually minced shrimp, cilantro and mango on a pearly oyster shell. There is also an upstairs bistro--which sports a more casual East-West fusion menu and opens onto a pleasant upper deck--and a cigar room, a clubby male retreat that speaks to the times. Avalon is perfect as a romantic retreat, its sophistication softened by the pastoral outdoors, culture bonded to nature. There are times when one might crave a bit of earthiness to temper the ethereal registers of the cooking, but for sheer drama, sound technique and wonderful combinations of splendid ingredients, Avalon ranks very high indeed.
originally published August 5, 1998 |
