WILLAMETTE WEEK'S RESTAURANT GUIDE 1999-2000 Restaurant Listings A B C E F G H I J K L M O P R S T U V W Y Z Paley's Place No other restaurant in Portland combines the sympathetic, personal hostessing, the impeccably informed service and the culinary imagination that Paley's Place puts into one extraordinary package. Kimberly Paley manages the front of the house with Nureyev's grace, while Chef Vitaly Paley hits all the right notes, like Brendel playing Schubert. (I choose my metaphors deliberately: She danced professionally, he played concert piano.) No matter how simple the preparation, every ingredient is carefully chosen; nothing leaves the kitchen that is not perfectly executed and handsomely presented. Paley has an intuitive understanding of how to combine seemingly incongruous ingredients, but without an ounce of pretense or strain: Imagine seared scallops in grapefruit and sea-urchin butter! The cooking is a melange of French with Northwest touches, each dish an implicit homage to what Paley loves most about the two cuisines. Even the hand-cut fries and mustardy aioli rise far above the pack. Paley has a wizard's way with fish, allowing the flavors to emerge, never masking the fresh tastes. He knows exactly how to enhance the tender meat of a halibut with an expressive confit of fennel, delicate pink peppercorns, and a touch of butter infused (again!) with grapefruit. Jennifer Flanagan's desserts are the perfect match for Paley's cooking: Her soufflé runs with molten chocolate like edible lava, and in the summer a peach polenta cake with peach-brandy glaze pours with pools of gold. Paley's Place is housed in an old Victorian. The main room is cozy and homey, the adjacent bar cozy and chic. It's hard to imagine a restaurant that is so attentive to exquisite detail, yet so unaffected and expressive of the joy of making great food. It is one of the very few restaurants in town that might garner a Michelin star and, come to think of it, might even capture two. (RJP) 1204 N 21st Ave., 243-2403. Dinner daily. Expensive. Papa Haydn The celebrated after-dinner confections at Papa Haydn are as gorgeous as the Betties who cruise past its 23rd Avenue location. Far less sweet than your average caffe mocha, these desserts are devastating in their subtlety. You'll keep eating the mousses, layer cakes, tarts and semifreddos and never feel you have to stop. Case in point is the Georgian peanut-butter mousse torte--it's both light and rich with peanutty flavor. Though people-watching is de rigueur at the restaurant, the entrees are worth a good look, too. A special ravioli is described in flowery terms--"marjoram pasta filled with smoked salmon and ricotta cheese, tossed with wood-roasted corn, red pepper and red onion and served in a fumet"--but it surpasses even the description. Scallops with artichoke hearts, crimini mushrooms and pancetta tossed with spinach fettuccine in a gorgonzola cream sauce is an excellent pasta choice. The upscale chicken club is fancy right down to its rosemary roll and basil-sundried tomato mayonnaise. (CM) 701 NW 23rd Ave., 228-7317; 5829 SE Milwaukie Ave., 232-9440. Lunch and dinner Monday-Saturday, brunch Sunday. Moderate to expensive. Paparazzi Pastaficio As a quarter-blood Italo-American in semi-good standing, nothing drives me to my vino faster than wack TV-commercial stereotype Eyeties. You know the drill: "Mama mia, that's-ah good spaghetti sauce-ah! Prego!" So Paparazzi Pastaficio's gonzo-italiano name had me fearing for the worst. I pictured bored college kids forced to wear clever paesano outfits, flinging pizza dough at the ceiling while diners indulged in "breadsticks." Grazie a Dio, Paparazzi proved me so wrong. The earth-toned interior is a soul-soothing oasis augmented by unpretentious, familial service. The menu mostly draws on the food of the Mezzogiorno--southern Italy's sun-kissed realms. The thin, fast-cooked and rib-sticking pizza scarfed by the ton in Naples leads the antipasto roster; a respectable set of husky risotto and gnocchi augment the joint's pasta/ravioli core. The linguine al mare rosso is studded with mouth-melting prawns. A savory union of radicchio--a vegetable I've been known to fondle in supermarkets--and pancetta saves a dish of pappardelle, the wide noodle that's never been a fave of mine. If Paparazzi hasn't conquered your heart by the time dessert rolls 'round, the establishment's synapse-blowing cannoli should seal the deal. (ZD) 2015 NE Broadway, 281-7701. Dinner. Closed Monday. Paragon This restaurant and bar in the Pearl District is probably better-known for its boisterous drinking scene than its well-thought-out food, and that's a shame, because eating at Paragon is a real treat. The cyclical nature of nightlife has now pardoned the overburdened hot spot; it's no longer the noise factory it once was. Chow in peace, my friends. Chef Peter Daugherty is handy with the fresh, hot and now ingredients, and the menu has some seasonally rotating aspects. This spring the kitchen offered a smoked-oyster chowder that was orgasmic: plump oysters snuggled with corn, peppers and bacon in a creamy sauce that was at once hearty and simple. And the hefty burger here, smothered in caramelized onions, is something you can always count on. The staff is knowledgeable and accommodating, and the price range starts at Pearl District grazer and hits the middle of Pearl District lofter sensibilities. The restaurant recently auctioned off a New Year's Party in its dining room on eBay, but it's still up for grabs. The millennium winks at this solid joint. (CBB) 605 NW 13th Ave., 833-5060. Lunch daily except Sunday; dinner daily. Moderate to expensive. Pavillion Grill The Pavillion Grill sits adjacent to the Greenwood Inn in a sea of parking spaces in Beaverton. (You know, parking, that thing that makes life worth living.) You can't shake the feeling, as you sit in the two-tiered dining room and gaze around at the nice family or two and solo diners, that this is the kind of place you've heard drives business people to lonely desperation. It's too big and too flat, and there's nothing to see out the window but a stretch of tail lights on a flat horizon. Though the place is impeccably pleasant, the Portland-centric question hangs heavily over dinner: Why are we here? There's only one answer to that: Because the food is good. Our waiter did his best to add a little snap, crackle and pop to the scene, but in the end it amounted to being called "ma'am" more times in one sitting than in my entire short(ish) life. The Pavillion salad, with grilled pear and goat cheese, was a perfect balance of sweet fruit with mellow cheese. The halibut with baby vegetables in a punchy-orange citrus vinaigrette and the lamb chops on greenbeans with a mince of mint were both excellent. Make sure to end the meal with a smooth, heavy crème brûlée--the huge parking lot can be put to good use walking it off afterward. (ML) Pavillion Grill, 10700 SW Allen Blvd., 626-4550. Lunch and dinner daily Pazzo So I'm sitting in Pazzo, the deluxe Italian showplace in the Hotel Vintage Plaza. All around me, subtle elegance prevails (well, there's my dad, who's sticking his tongue out at the pseudo-Euro waiter behind his back, but anyway...). Then, just as the ass-kicking calamari alla griglia appetizer hits the table in all its crispy, salty glory, some total idiot wanders past wearing a U of O baseball hat. My mind quickly trips to a scene from The Sopranos: North Jersey capo Tony Soprano intimidates some cap-sporting arriviste with the immortal slam "Take your hat off. They don't sell hotdogs here." The impulse to reenact the scene passes, but it's worth noting that Pazzo can inspire this sort of territorial defense of its old-school feel. From the moment you settle in over excellent bread and bravura olive oil, you'll comply with any of Pazzo's terms. Chef Ken Giambalvo's spread of dinner courses, which favors Northern Italy's meats and polentas, repays repeat visits. On the evening of the hat incident, I ordered a disappointing dish of garganelli noodles flavored with a miserly helping of black truffles (garganelli con ripoff, I believe), but that's the only time the eclectic menu has done me wrong. A platter of spaghetti tossed with mushrooms, pancetta, garlic and rosemary turned my frown upside down with its simple, savory flavors. The involtini di pollo--chicken breast stuffed with zucchini, roasted peppers and fontina--is grand, as is the basil-crusted pork chop. For those interested in lighter fare, a menu of inexpensive antipasti sates diners in the bar off the dining room. That option puts Pazzo well within reach of those who don't want to shell out for the pricey dinners--meaning you don't have to be a made guy to sample The Lifestyle. (ZD) 627 SW Washington St., 228-1515. Breakfast, lunch and dinner daily. Expensive. Plainfield's Mayur The sandalwood tree grows for 100 years before it produces the scent associated with its name, and in India it is not uncommon for sculptors of the protected wood to spend a year carving one piece. As it is with the evolution of these works, so is it with the experience at Plainfield's Mayur: Time is not of the essence. Although meat dishes are served, this is vegetarian heaven. Condiments are from the Bombay region, but the dishes have been selected from a fine-dining tour of all India. Start with the dahi wada, fried lentil balls in a pale-green yogurt sauce, and the tomato-coconut soup. Share if you must, but finish with the cardamom-rose ice cream with saffron noodles. Between courses, watch naan being thrown onto the side of a 1,000-degree Fahrenheit oven, visit the upstairs gallery or steal a look at the downstairs wine room. Don't be afraid to ask questions, as the servers here are courteous, regal and knowledgeable. It's as if serving the dishes here is somehow an antidote to putting one's foot in one's mouth. (ET) 852 SW 21st Ave., 223-2995. Dinner daily. Expensive. Portland Steak and Chophouse There's a certain formalism that Eastern-style chophouses must hit to get the carnivore crowd to fork over $27 for a steak--tony decor, intimate booths, low lighting, hyper-attentive service--the kind of place where power brokers and expense-account people can get comfy. In that regard, this restaurant in Old Town's Embassy Suites Hotel is true to form. But even better, the food is outstanding and unapologetically retro. Whether it's porterhouse, New York, sirloin, chicken, veal or fish, the portions are large and of fine quality. The best bets are the salt-crusted prime rib, filet mignon and daily seafood specials. All entrees come with standard chophouse fare of potatoes and fresh veggies. (PD) 121 SW 3rd Ave., 223-6200. Lunch and dinner daily. Expensive. Red Star Tavern and Roast House Rarely does homey food enjoy as grand a stage as the hearty spit-roasted meats and fried okra at Red Star Tavern and Roast House. There's no whiff of Delta Cafe whimsy here, and not all the cuisine is influenced by the bayou, but chef Rob Pando's Louisiana leaning is evident. The pork loin, basted in a honey-sweetened Jack Daniel's sauce, would please both Winnie the Pooh and Tom Waits. The corn-and-chili spoon bread and crayfish étouffée that accompany a peppery salmon recall certain Southern charms. At the same time, a portobello-and-corn tamale, scallops with succotash and coveted Maryland blue crab are all offered. Red Star's unerringly fresh and tangy fare is a match for the fancy lodgelike decor. A wood-fired oven and rotisserie set the warmly paneled, airy space aglow, creating a coziness that matches the dreamy mashed potatoes and iron skillet cornbread. Red Star's actual menu is oddly chatty--appetizers fall under the heading, "To begin, think big, start small..." and, moving on to salads, "Next step, it's a doozy..."--but once you've experienced the étouffée, it doesn't really matter. (CM) 503 SW Alder St., 222-0005. Breakfast, lunch and dinner Monday-Friday, brunch and dinner Saturday-Sunday. Expensive. Restaurant Murata It took a while for Murata and me to make friends. One Saturday night, as the clock barely nudged 9:30, this Japanese haven brutally spurned my dinner business despite its posted closing hour of 10 pm. As placid, sated Japanese diners looked on unmoved, I wandered out into the city streets still starving. Hardly a winning introduction, but the promise of ultra-authentic Rising Sun fare drew me back during daylight hours. Tucked into a sterile plaza fronting an office building, Murata's glass-box structure is less forbidding by day. Under summer sun, this weird patch of the urban commonwealth hops with lunchgoers and wandering PSU students, lending it life it just doesn't have after dark. Murata itself is a world within this world, often crowded with suit-and-tie Japanese salarymen looking for a taste of the old country. It's refreshing to find an ethnic restaurant that doesn't bend over backward to accommodate Anglos, and Murata's hardcore menu, all-Japanese staff and nervy Tokyo atmosphere induce a pleasant zing of culture shock. That piquancy pales next to the sci-fi wasabi, though. Balancing the pristine protein-in-overdrive tastes of raw seafood, Murata's version of the famous green paste sears the hair on the back of your neck. Most of the rest of the menu matches the sauce's standard (although Murata's disappointing tonkatsu, or fried pork cutlet, could come out of the scullery of any Yankee greasy spoon). Murata's real charm, though, lies in its delivery of a little slice of the Empire. (ZD) 200 SW Market St., 227-0080. Lunch Monday-Friday, dinner Monday-Saturday. Moderate. Rustica Italian Caffe Going to eat at Rustica late in the evening is like dropping in on a friend who's always glad to see you. On a recent visit close to closing time, the staff was friendly and warm and unhurried. The waiter was helpful and honest in his opinions, even going so far as to say he thought the fish special was just slightly too fishy. With that kind of candor, you're going to believe anything he says. Rustica is a good spot for appetizers and wine before movies at the Lloyd Center or for full-blown, leisurely meals. The stuffed grilled-portobello antipasto was delicious--full-flavored without being overpowering. A small but noteworthy thing--the chicken in the fried-chicken insalata was tasty without being greasy. The grilled prawns al ceppo--skewered prawns wrapped in pancetta over pasta--was gorgeous in presentation and delightfully flavored. The wine list is solid, although mysteriously light on Italian and heavy on Californian. The puttanesca, however, was plain disappointing. It should have been as spicy and ball-grabbing as its namesake. Instead it had all the passion of Richard Simmons. Still, Rustica's solid offerings are all you would expect and more from a neighborhood Italian place. (PW) 1700 NE Broadway, 288-0990. Lunch and dinner daily. Moderate. Ruth's Chris Steak House If you're going to go for it, well, go for it. And that's the philosophy behind this steak chain's nearly patented technique of topping its broiled steak with butter. Yes, that's real butter dribbling over the edge of the enormous fillet that's been placed in front of you, still sizzling. You look around the room, which could pass for an airplane hangar if not for the clubby wood paneling, and you see many other eaters, all of whom look like they've been imported from out-of-state suburban enclave No. 6, all of whom cannot dab fast enough at the butter and steak juice that beelines south from the corners of their mouths. To complement the husky taste of the steak, you bring some creamed spinach to your maw. Normally a food for the infirm or newly born, Ruth's creamed spinach is a destination dish you're bound to crave at odd hours. Since the meals here are a la carte and side dishes are Orca-sized portions, stick with the steak and spinach, but don't forget the bread pudding with whiskey sauce. Strange dreams are made of this. (CBB) 309 SW 3rd Ave., 221-4518. Dinner daily. Very expensive. Saburo's Sushi House The first thing you notice about the congregation outside of Saburo's is the transfixed look on the faces of the people waiting there. They seem to be meditating on a distant point on the horizon. You glance there and see nothing. "Friends," you venture, "I have come upon this place wandering and it hath such a long line. What lies within?" "Sit upon the sidewalk here or upon the bus shelter's bench there," they answer, "and we will tell you." What they will tell you is that you're going to have to wait. You can come early, you can come late, but you're going to have to wait. When you get inside the small sushi hut, you will be seated practically atop your neighbor. But you won't mind these earthly trials once your server starts bringing over the big fish. Saburo serves redemptive sushi, sublimely rich fish that seems to be dappled with the dawn of a new day. The overstuffed rolls fill your mouth, allowing plenty of time to ruminate on the bounty of the sea and the earth before your next bite. And then tomorrow you wait again. (ML) 1667 SE Bybee Blvd., 236-4237. Dinner daily. Inexpensive. Salvador Molly's Forget Prozac. Hell, even forget Viagra. Salvador Molly's disarmingly cheerful tropicalia decor works better than both--it puts you in a good mood and gets you in the mood. From the lovely, attentive wait staff to the frothy margaritas, an infectious joie de vivre fills the air, already thick with soca beats. Bowls of peanuts and pitchers of ice water are on every table--the two act as tonic to the sometimes incendiary fare. Picking and choosing from the massive menu can be heartbreaking. You know you want the spot-on Yucatan chicken tamale, but that rock-shrimp tostada special is damned appealing. Jerk or pork chicken? If I get jambalaya, can I work the mashed potatoes into the equation? A few tips: Stick with the lime margaritas--the fruity ones are saccharine. The Caribbean curry noodles don't measure up to the rest of the menu. Don't take on the Great Balls of Fire (fried cheese and ground habanero) unless you killed your taste buds long ago. Order your tamale southern style--steamed and wrapped in banana leaves, rather than deep fried. Finally, if you like oysters, the $1.50 shooter is unbeatable; the shellfish are the size of a hungry woman's fist. (CM) 1523 SW Sunset Blvd., 293-1790. Lunch and dinner Monday-Saturday. Moderate. Saucebox We're used to soybeans in many guises these days. Just about everything--"milk," curd, cheese, Gardenburgers, frozen dessert--now has soy in there somewhere, but isn't it nice to see them in their pure state? The edamame arrive swiftly after you're seated, a harbinger of good things to come. Remove these babies from their shells and nibble on them awhile as you take a long look at the beverage menu. Saucebox offers much beyond the core of its signature cocktails, including 11 scotches, a half-dozen aperitifs, lemongrass soda and four variations on water. Lunch and dinner menus change daily, but the introductory plates remain constant: refreshingly piquant sweet-potato rolls, curried potato samosas spiked with sweet chile. Entrees are deceptively simple and executed with cunning. Steamed Alaskan halibut dissolves in the mouth as sweetly as cotton candy, and for once, the accompanying coconut sauce atop the rice does not obliterate the subtle flavors of jasmine. Green curried chicken struck the perfect cilantro beat. Be sure to work the kinks out of your wardrobe before entering this smoothly syncopated space. Though the DJs don't start spinning until 10 pm, once a boîte, always a boîte. (CM) 214 SW Broadway, 241-3393. Lunch and dinner Tuesday-Saturday, bar menu available after hours. Moderate to expensive. Serratto Serratto raised great expectations when it opened in the late spring. The offspring of Michael Cronin, owner of the wildly popular Caffe Mingo, Serratto is the handsome makeover of the erstwhile Delphina's. With its decor both rustic and sophisticated, with hand-painted benches and many Italian country inspirations, it looks like a winner from the start. It sports several varied spaces, including a wine tasting area, a bar and cafe, a splendid private dining area and a cheerful main room. But so far, unlike the decor, the mostly Tuscan food has failed to inspire on some fronts. Despite several well-executed items (especially a beautiful petrale sole with lemon and capers), and a welcome appetizer of fresh sardines with homemade tomato sauce, some of the dishes are bland and listless. On a recent visit, I found a crab risotto practically tasteless, and a zabaglione with puff pastry proved to be a few spoonfuls of egg yolk with something on top that looked and tasted like a biscuit. On the other hand, carpaccio of tuna was perfectly luscious: thin-sliced, rare smoked ahi, garnished with caper berries for a wonderfully sour jolt and served with crisp toast rounds. Bruschetta with artichokes and chard was a steaming mound of delectable vegetables atop great grilled bread. The wine list is beautifully conceived, and you have a choice of fine Italian reds and whites in either 6-ounce or 9-ounce glasses. Why Serratto is so uneven seems a mystery. It has the makings of a first-rate restaurant, but for the moment it sadly lacks quality control. Station an intelligent someone at the exit to the kitchen, and don't let anything out that fails to meet very exacting standards. I continue to cross my fingers. (RJP) 2112 NW Kearney St., 221-1195. Lunch and dinner daily. Moderate to expensive. Southpark Location, location, location! Southpark sits smack-dab in the midst of many Portland nightlife haunts and makes a great dinner stop if you're off for a concert at the Schnitz or a shindig at the Art Museum. It's a pretty place, and you're bound to feel pretty too as all the people walking by stare at you through the large glass windows that surround the dining room, seemingly the only remnant left from its previous inhabitant, B. Moloch. You come here for seafood done up Mediterranean-style, and if you order right, you may very well feel as though you're kicking back in Spain. For lunch or dinner, do not miss the intense fish soup (la bourride), which envelops shellfish in a golden saffron broth and nestles a grilled crouton in the middle to soak up every nuance. Chef Paul Ornstein is not afraid to go for the unusual, so the fish of the day is unlikely to be anything you'll see at Fred Meyer anytime soon. A recent visit offered a beautifully sautéed skate, a flat, seawater fish. Pasta and paella dishes abound, and don't forget to check out Southpark's wine list brought to you with great mirth by "guy du vin" Dave Holstrom, who effectively separates the list into character descriptions ("rich, full-bodied whites" or "easy-drinking, lighter-bodied reds") rather than by labels and describes one wine as follows: "Drinking it is like going through a bad divorce, or going camping with the folks in the Blair Witch Project--but without a flashlight." Cheers! (CBB) 901 SW Salmon St., 326-1300. Lunch and dinner daily. Moderate to expensive. Swagat Homer Simpson might like being greeted by a buffet table when he walks into a restaurant, but for most people, it's not a promising sign. Swagat compounds this aesthetic blunder in its North-west Portland location by featuring a decor that evokes a defunct country club--acres of green carpet, copious brass rails and bad lighting. Fortunately, the food is excellent. Whether you're a lover of ghee (the clarified butter that pervades North Indian cooking) or a health nut, you'll be pleased. The lamb vindaloo is at once incendiary and tender; the tandoori fish tikka, unlike that offered in many curry houses, isn't a dumping-ground for old halibut. Swagat's pickles taste homemade and the pappadams, the crisp lentil crackers that are to beer what stars are to the sky, are neither greasy nor rationed. To its credit, Swagat also presents a full menu of South Indian classics, including dosas, thin pancakes made from fermented rice flower; vada, chunky fried rings of lentil flour; and idlis, small pillows of rice cake. The masala dosa, a massive pancake filled with a piquant vegetable curry, provides a good introduction to this all-too-rare cooking, and so does the Swagat South Indian combo. (NJ) 2074 NW Lovejoy St., 227-4300; 4325 SW 109th Ave., Beaverton, 626-3000. Lunch and dinner daily. Moderate. Syun Izakaya You won't confuse the small-town library for a building on the Ginza, but once ensconced in the restaurant you might think you've been spirited to Tokyo. This remarkably sophisticated yet friendly spot brims with authenticity, from the more than 50 varieties of sake to the fiercely unusual dishes, which include the best tempura in the region as well as a dish I'll wager lots of yen you've never experienced before: disks of paté of monkfish liver. Some of the sake is even made in Oregon, and the sampler plate of the homebrewed rice wine is worth a sip or two, from the crystalline "Silver" to the ivory-creamy "Pearl." The best strategy at Syun Izakaya (the name means "fresh seasonal sake pub") is to order many appetizers, including the egg-and-chicken hot custard, barely shimmering in its cup; the fresh tuna with grated potato; and the squid and flying fish combo. The walls are plastered with little signs in Japanese announcing the specials. It seems like a way to prevent the character-illiterate from inquiring too much about those dishes, but my advice is to persist in getting clarification, for the rewards are real. Even kim chee, the national dish of Korea, makes an ecumenical appearance, laden with pork and milder than most versions. A dinner here will provide you a liberal education in Japanese mores and Japanese tastes--not an anticipated result of a drive across the fields of western Washington County. (RJP) 209 NE Lincoln St., Hillsboro, 640-3131. Lunch Mondays-Fridays, dinner daily. Moderate. Tapeo In Spain, a tapeo is a tapas-eating party, an evening spent wandering among tapas bars and talking with friends, eating a bite or two at each one, perhaps with a glass of chilled fino sherry. Doing this at Portland's far-flung tapas bars would require too long on Tri-Met, so you may as well settle in here on Northwest Thurman. Ricardo Segura has brought a little bit of Spain to his storefront restaurant, and the best way to start your exploration may be with an order of tostaditas de boquerones. Slices of homemade bread are toasted, spread with a tapenade of farga and manzanilla olives and topped with a shiny, marinated, unsalted anchovy that will forever change your notion of the minuscule maligned fish. The choice gets harder from there, but the lentil salad, seared scallops sauced with white wine and saffron, a bowl of plump cannellini beans topped with grilled slices of garlic sausage, or the cerdo con tomate, fall-apart pork stewed with tomatoes, are all sure bets. Finish up with the best flan in town. (JD) 2764 NW Thurman St., 226-0409. Closed Sunday and Monday. Dinner only. Moderate to expensive. Thai Orchid There was a time we considered Thai Orchid to be one of the most exciting Thai restaurants in town. Now, we're not so sure. On a recent visit the life seemed to be sucked out of the place--many of the dishes were uninspired, there wasn't much of a crowd there, and the staff started vacuuming at 9 pm while there were two tables of people in the restaurant. With enough Gaeng Pa Nang under your belt, however, you can ignore such irritants. Thai Orchid's version of this curry with green beans and kafir leaves (an African grain) is complex, velvety and rich. For another delicious distraction, skip the pad Thai (which you can get anywhere) and have the Pad Kee Mao, a tangy dish with wide rice noodles and egg, chili and hot basil leaves. It's time for Thai Orchid to rally, and we hope it does. With five locations, it's been an important anchor to Portland's Thai restaurants. (PW) Locations in Portland, Gresham, West Linn and Vancouver. Lunch and dinner daily. Moderate. 3 Doors Down Cafe The problem with great neighborhood restaurants is sometimes you tend to take them for granted. But 3 Doors Down is a treasure: a tiny, stylie bistro unassumingly tucked into a strip of shops off ever-frenetic Hawthorne Boulevard. In the search for what's new, foodies tend to hop, skip and jump around. You can do that, but make sure to get back to 3 Doors Down, where the Italian fare is old-school when need be and adventurous when the whim strikes. The kitchen plays around with seasonal ingredients exceedingly well--so you might want to forsake one of the standards on the menu and go for a special. When the juicy fruits are in season, you'd have to be a half-wit to skip the chef's unforgettable starter of scallops, peaches, cream, honey and basil. An all-time fave is the penne with vodka sauce; boasting a slow-simmered gravy of plum tomatoes, cream, chili flakes, vodka and Italian sausage, this dish is astounding in its simple complexity. Space is tight and the cafe doesn't take reservations, but the waitstaff is one of the friendliest around and will take care of you as quickly as possible. (CBB) 1429 SE 37th Ave., 236-6886. Dinner Tuesday-Saturday. Moderate. Three Square Grill Good neighborhood restaurants low on flash and high on edibility and friendly service are tough to come by, especially in the suburbs where glitzy chains abound. Located in an unobtrusive strip mall on Capitol Highway, this 4-year-old bastion of low-key atmosphere and culinary frolic owned by David and Barb Barber is kind of like going to an eccentric relative's house for dinner: You don't know quite what you're getting, but you know it'll be good. Homey is the word--in both the hokey and the soul sense. Our server was exactly the kind of friendly guy you'd want as a cousin or tour guide, and I swear I heard him say "howdy" at least once. He coaxed us into trying the Firecracker Marlin, baked blue marlin won tons in a ginger chili, and the slow-roasted herb chicken, a tender and tasty old-school treat with crushed potatoes just like my Aunt Maude used to make. But the big winner was the Shrimp n' Grits, a spicy wonder with a certain Caribbean "ooh la la" served on a messy bed of collard greens. The folks at Three Square also do burgers, hash, pasta and sandwiches, and they smoke their own salmon and sausages. And, of course, they offer rice pudding. Any way you slice it, this place serves good soul food. (BS) 6320 SW Capitol Highway, 244-4467. Lunch and dinner daily, brunch Saturday and Sunday. Moderate to expensive. Trio Trio tries hard. The upscale restaurant on Fremont Street gussied up its back deck to create a quiet, serene dining space and designed a warm inside room in muted tones for all seasons. You can almost sense the urgency with which this chef-owned establishment wants to prove it's worthy of respect. And it is. Everything is made in-house from scratch except, as our server pointed out, the wine, which he jokingly said they were "working on." Though some of the dishes are uneven, many are above par. A recent appetizer of mussels was perfectly done, the oversized crustaceans clean, briny-flavored and cooked to just the right point between firmness and chewiness. The sherry-inflected broth was supremely sop-worthy. Another starter dish, a regular on the seasonal menu, is a crab and potato cake: The three small discs are served with sorrel mayonnaise and combine the threads of a Jewish latke with the dunes of Cape Cod to good effect. On the entree side, a simple grilled peach and soft corn pudding nicely complemented pork chops. The menu rotates every four months or so, but you can expect a fish, a pork and a beef entree to vie for your attention consistently. Trio is an excellent choice for upscale dining way east of Northwest 23rd. (CBB) 4627 NE Fremont Ave., 249-3247. Dinner daily. Closed Mondays. Expensive. Typhoon! The dining room of the original Northwest branch of Typhoon! is always crowded, but the more commodious quarters in the old Imperial Hotel, while often filled, give you more breathing room. The superb Thai food is identical in both spots. What you'll find is not just an impressively wide range of well-prepared dishes, but several items available from no other local Siamese kitchen. These dishes are often called "royal" or "palace" cuisine, and include the so-called "Bags of Gold," wonton sacks tied with chive, bursting with shrimp meat and perked with plum sauce, or Miang kum, little bundles of spinach leaves, ginger, lime, shrimp, peanuts and coconut. The soups are electric, with pairings of coconut cream, kafir leaves, and chili peppers that offer clean jolts of flavor. I'm very partial to the Thai barbecued chicken, smoky and moist, and served with a bracing garlic sauce. The curries are uniformly good, complex, subtle, and available in a wide range of spicings and flavors. The restaurant's pad Thai, while serviceable, will not convince you it ought to be the national dish, and it's one of the few disappointments on what is otherwise an outstanding menu. Bo Kline is a talented chef, and gracious as well: She is likely to make an appearance sometime during your feast. Typhoon! famously offers a tea list of 50-some varieties, and the descriptions of their vaunted effects is likely to provide for spirited communal reading at table. (RJP) 400 SW Broadway, 224-8285; 2310 NW Everett St., 243-7557. Both open Mondays-Fridays for lunch, daily for dinner. Moderate. Umenoki That self-help writer should get over his chicken-soup fixation and call his next book Yaki Udon Soup for the Soul. What is it about miso soup and green-tea ice cream that seems to cleanse the collective grime from a system working overtime on a sorry-ass protein-deficient diet? Umenoki is the Japanese version of a diner--comfortable with a huge menu and a super-friendly staff. Located in a clunky building on Northwest Thurman Street, Umenoki is thoroughly unpretentious and pleasant, and even though you probably won't get one of the waitresses to call you "babe," there is a sense of familiarity in service and presentation. Sit at the windows behind bamboo blinds and try the gigantic, tempura-style prawns served in a whimsical boat along with a light, sweet dipping sauce. The yaki udon noodles with chicken arrive at the table hot and sizzling in a light glaze with crunchy-sweet vegetables. Visit Umenoki once and you will leave wishing that the fun-loving staff would adopt you so you'd stop eating all that other crap you've been living off. (ML) 2330 NW Thurman St., 242-6404. Lunch and dinner Monday-Saturday. Moderate. Veritable Quandary The early-summer trash-can fire that sealed off the Veritable Quandary for three months didn't char any of the establishment's clubby charm or cred. The bar got a good burn, and smoke damage reached most of the restaurant, but the end result is a revamped kitchen that had been in the works anyway. And certainly the lush, romantic patio remains perhaps the loveliest al fresco dining area in town. The VQ attracts mature 25-year-olds and goofy Boomers both, which makes for a pretty entertaining mix. The menu changes daily and though there are plenty of starters and salads for vegetarians, entrees are predominantly protein-rich. Osso buco, one of VQ's signature dishes, is enormous and rib-sticking--perfect on a winter night. Unusual ingredients and combinations are prevalent here: heirloom tomatoes, escarole, fingerling potatoes, ceviche with snapper and calamari, prawns stuffed with jalapeño cream cheese, ragout of artichoke. The VQ blessedly serves dinner until 11 pm on the weekends, but be warned that favorite dishes--grilled salmon, chocolate soufflé--sell out early. (CM) 1220 SW 1st Ave., 227-7342. Lunch and dinner Monday-Friday, brunch and dinner Saturday-Sunday. Moderate-expensive. Wild Abandon Situated between Genoa and Bangkok Kitchen, Wild Abandon borrows from both its Belmont neighbors--and almost every other cuisine--with sometimes spectacular results. The Mussels Tropicale pairs the world's most underrated mollusk with coconut milk, cilantro, lemongrass and lime juice and is worth committing a felony for. The goat-cheese torta, which swims in pesto, sundried tomato, roasted garlic and a tarry reduction of balsamic vinegar, would be right at home at Genoa at twice the price. Main courses are less predictably excellent--on a recent night the mushroom ravioli were bland and flaccid--but the fish tacos and cioppino, a seafood stew, are first-rate. In recent months, Wild Abandon's owners have addressed one of the restaurant's few shortcomings. The narrow dining room has been one of the most soothing and intimate in Southeast Portland, but people eating outside choked on bus fumes and chatted with customers of the nearby convenience stores and methadone clinic. That's no longer an issue, since the weed-choked wasteland behind the restaurant was transformed recently into a two-level patio lit by multi-hued cast-iron streetlights and roofed by a Sendakian cypress tree. In a town and time when menus and dining rooms are numbingly predictable, the culinary flair and sense of humor that characterize Wild Abandon make it worth a regular visit. (NJ) 2411 SE Belmont St., 232-4458. Dinner daily. Brunch Sunday. Expensive. Wildwood Wildwood is the absolute exemplar of Northwest cuisine. If you want to know how venison with marionberry and pinot noir sauce tastes in its Platonic form, this is the place. Chef and owner Cory Schreiber's culinary understanding of the region is unmatched, and he delivers with metronomic consistency. In 1998, he deservedly shared the prestigious James Beard award for the leading chef in the Northwest. No other restaurant has put the grandeur of local cuisine on the map with such panache. It is hard not to obsess about certain great dishes, and despite the restaurant's willingness to put new ones on the list, the signature items remain: roasted mussels in a rich tomato broth; crispy oyster and pancetta salad; and the best roast chicken in town. The wood-burning oven is used to perfection on a number of ingredients, including sturgeon, Alaskan halibut and duckling. The menu reflects seasonal bounty, so spring will see fava beans, asparagus and Copper River salmon, while autumn will bring morels, chanterelles, pears and figs. There are times one might wish for a slightly lighter menu in the summer, though Schreiber is definitely alert to such fascinating ingredients as heirloom tomatoes, while the kitchen does fine things with berries, whether in tarts, cobblers, or ice cream. For simpler but no less thoughtful fare, the bar food is excellent, especially hand-crafted pizzas, crispy crab cakes and outstanding burgers. The service is as crisp as a pinot grigio, and always helpfully informed. It's a pleasure to come back to Wildwood time and time again. (RJP) 1221 NW 21st Ave., 248-9663. Open Monday-Saturday for lunch, daily for dinner, Sundays for brunch. Expensive. Wilf's Restaurant & Piano Bar Sometimes a dining occasion demands a very special venue. Wilf's, located in historic Union Station, offers a dignified and unique experience. The huge, red upholstered wing chairs envelop diners in a grand embrace as the lively strains of jazz piano tinkle nearby. A complimentary starter plate offers an herb-mayonnaise dip and a scoop of smooth chicken-liver pâté with cracker bread and hard breadsticks. The attentive servers, who know the steak and seafood menu, march confidently into the dramatic territory of tableside service. The Caesar and wilted spinach salads are tossed before your eyes, and some of the more spectacular entrees are flamed right at your elbow. The steaks are a good choice, especially steak Diane, beef tenderloin sautéed with shallots, mushrooms and demi-glace, flamed tableside. A recent special, bay shrimp fillet, presented a glorious version of surf and turf with a fillet stuffed with shrimp, herbs and Parmesan, topped with a creamy béarnaise sauce. Other standouts include a rack of New Zealand lamb and a seared sea scallop appetizer with crunchy lemongrass potato pancakes. Extend the experience with a selection from the after-dinner drink menu that includes, of course, flaming desserts. (SW) 800 NW 6th Ave., 223-0070. Lunch Monday-Friday, dinner Monday-Saturday. Expensive. Winterborne Winterborne is not a restaurant that assaults you with flavor. Every savor is balanced, reaching the tongue's taste sensations with a subtle strike of seasoning, milk, broth or garlic. Simplicity is the theme--the lighting is low, the space is small and there is little fuss and surprisingly little pretension. After being greeted by a French waiter, one sits at the table relieved and intimidated because the service didn't begin with, "Hi, my name is Ashley..." Our waiter recommended (and we didn't disagree) the delicious mussels marinière steamed in garlic, parsley and white wine. Following that was a creamy cauliflower soup (which, OK, needed salt--luckily, it was at the table) and Winterborne's most famous entree, basil Thai prawns, a lovely-looking and scrumptious-tasting plate of big prawns with ginger, garlic, shallots, lemongrass, coconut milk and cream. Also tasty was the bouillabaisse royale--an assortment of lobster tail, whitefish, mussels and clams in fish broth with saffron, served with potatoes and garlic-parmesan croutons. Following dinner was a green salad, which seemed strange but nonetheless appropriate. But if you want to cut the green from the palate, may we recommend Lombard, or Death by Chocolate, which, unlike anything else in the place, will delectably assault you. (KM) 3520 NE 42nd Ave., 249-8486. Dinner Wednesday-Saturday. Expensive. Yen Ha For my money, Yen Ha is still the premier Vietnamese restaurant in town. Its menu is gargantuan, but most anything you order will reward you. You'll want to spend some time with the list, however, because assembling an interesting array of dishes is half the fun here. Besides, the service is a bit slow to clear the mounds of china, so you'll be staring at them for some while after you've made your inroads. The island cooker dishes are outstanding, as is the salty cracked crab with black bean and garlic sauce. I still dream of game hen with sweet rice in coconut milk. Perhaps the best spring rolls in the city emerge from Yen Ha's kitchen. And any dish that employs greens, cilantro, green onions and mint for wrappings is bound to be spanking fresh. The French influence is obvious, but the Asian sauces come through clearly. The squid dishes are also marvelous, and I usually spring for eel, which is prepared in a range of ways, the best being the broiled version. Yen Ha was one of the first southeast Asian restaurants in Portland, and over the years it has maintained its standing and its culinary accomplishments. (RJP) 6820 NE Sandy Blvd., 287-3698. Open daily for lunch and dinner. Moderate to expensive. Zefiro When it comes to this city's restaurant history, you could easily break things down to Before Zefiro and After Zefiro. Life BZ was fairly efficient but stuck on the stodgy side. Life AZ was slick, surprising and cosmopolitan. Life BZ = halibut stuffed with crabmeat. Life AZ = rare seared ahi tuna. To this day, after influencing the entire restaurant scene, Zefiro's brand of creative, edgy cuisine served in a casually cool atmosphere is signature and could probably go on for at least another eight years in the same format, in the same fishbowl on Northwest 21st where it was born. But owner Bruce Carey wants to shake things up. When Carey relocates to the new Wieden & Kennedy compound at Northwest 13th Avenue and Everett Street come February 2000, Zefiro will have a new home. We can only imagine what life will be like in Y2Z. (CBB) 500 NW 21st Ave., 226-3394. Dinner Tuesday-Saturday. Expensive. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Willamette Week | originally published October 13, 1999