Skip to main contentConsuming meat products at Laurelhurst Market used to seem like a very bad idea. Tortilla chips, sure. Beer, definitely. But meat? The run-down convenience mart across the street from the East Burnside Music Millennium was just a little too dusty and disheveled to trust the expiration dates.
A lot changes in a year. In August 2008, Jason Owens and his partners at Simpatica Catering purchased the building for $688,000—and after nine months of permits and cleaning and a heroic five-month remodel, the quarter-acre lot was transformed. Apple trees and strawberries line a freshly poured parking lot. The false pitched roof is gone, and the storefront has been refaced with sliding glass doors and stainless steel paneling. The interior is split between a modest retail case and a packed dining room open since May (I counted more than 50 seats inside), bordered to the west and north by a long bar and a large open kitchen similar to the one at Lauro Kitchen. Outside, a bright alley on the west side of the building hides another half dozen tables. A window to the bar facilitates the delivery of drinks to outside diners.
Only the name remains unchanged. "We really wanted to make it clear that we were a part of our new neighborhood," says co-owner Ben Dyer. "Also, we felt that keeping the 'market' part helped people know we were more than just a restaurant."
Much more. The "market" portion of Laurelhurst Market is the packed butcher counter, full of excellent sausages and cured meats—made in-house by the same crew that until recently owned Viande in Northwest Portland's City Market—as well as imported salumi, exotic fats and top-notch chops, steaks and roasts. The shop, which is open daily until 7 pm, also offers an ever-changing selection of sandwiches. The ones we've tried—including such combos as ham on levain with radishes and frisée, and beef on a kaiser with beets and lettuce ($4 half; $7 whole)—have all been excellent, with good bread and fresh vegetables getting equal play alongside the modest portions of flawless deli meats.
The deli's daytime modesty is nowhere to be found at dinner, when the kitchen is under the direction of executive chef David Kreifels (the third in Simpatica's trio of owners) and chef de cuisine Will Cisa. The menu is an extravagant carnival of meats, simply and beautifully prepared, divided into seven categories: "To Begin," hors d'oeuvres, three variations on mussels frites, a la carte steaks and chops, entrees, salads and sandwiches, and sides. Of the 44 items on a recent menu, only 10—mostly sides—didn't contain meat. Only the pommes frites are likely vegan. And, although "steakhouse" is the easiest way to describe Laurelhurst Market's fare, the restaurant deals in far more than just beef—on any given night the flesh of a dozen species may be sampled. The portions are enormous.
Some highlights: The lamb mixed grill ($24), a plate of tender little rack chops, savory Siena sausage and a creamy confit of lamb shoulder; the game hen ($18), a crisp-skinned breast and sausage-stuffed thigh served with sweet hazelnut gremolata, and the brisket ($18), a juicy 8-inch hunk of meat with thick char, dressed with strawberry barbecue sauce. The Muscadet mussels frites are without a doubt the finest Bivalvia I've tasted, swimming in a garlic-heavy broth, with a pile of really fantastic fries—and the steak frites ($19) appears as a nice, reasonable portion of pan-seared beef (the cut varies day to day) with more of the fries. They taste the way I imagine McDonald's might if they were made of local, organic taters. At night, salads and hot sandwiches run $12-$13, and are colossal. A lingcod sandwich ($13) pairs a sizable hunk of lightly battered fish with pickled celery remoulade and pickled lemon slices.
While Laurelhurst Market excels at performing miracles at meat, the kitchen really shows off its chops with the vegetable sides. These change every Thursday, so I can't recommend any in particular, but the ones I've tried have inspired evangelical zeal—a plate of green beans, charcoal-grilled with pancetta and crème fraîche and basil ($6), opened my eyes to a whole world of veggie-centric barbecue. (The waiters will happily tell you how anything on the menu is prepared; another point in the restaurant's favor.)
Drinks are in the good hands of Evan Zimmerman, a veteran of Teardrop Lounge, whose cocktails make use of peculiar innovations like lemon verbena soda, chorizo-spiced tequila and smoked ice (made by melting a block of ice over a grill, then catching and refreezing the smoke-infused water). His robust wine list includes a dozen bottles under $30 and another dozen glasses from $6 to $12.
A lot changes in a year. The empty parking lot and the dusty windows are rapidly fading memories, chased away by the bright chatter of the happy diners who've crowded Laurelhurst Market from day one. It's a mixed crowd—the doctors and lawyers who inhabit the immediate neighborhood sit a few feet from college kids looking to drop $20 on a sandwich and a beer—but they all look at home in the sunny, casual dining room, gorging themselves on animal fat. That sort of charm has no expiration date.
Order this: House-cured salt cod fritters ($5). The pingpong-ball-size lumps of battered, deep-fried fish are the best bar snack in town.
Best deal: A large salad of arugula and pork belly ($12)—an enormous pile of greens, bacon and two poached eggs—feeds two.
I'll pass: The bacon cheeseburger ($12) is an exercise in excess, topped with bacon, cheese and pimento, arugula and bread and butter pickles. It's simply too much food.
WWeek 2015