Goodbye to Butchers' Chic

Will Calendula's politically correct cuisine extend even to nonvegans?

We've obviously entered a new Meat Age. But when reviewing this grisly time, will historians find a correlation between the world at war (carnage) and the world's demand for meat (carne)? Is it mere coincidence that fur is again fashionable and that the body of Christ has been filmically flayed into an Atkins buffet ("Take, eat; this is my offal") at the moment that New York, Baghdad and Madrid's streets have become butchers' sloughs? Some diners, of course, have chosen an alternative to the slaughterhouse drive.

In Portland, the myth that a vegan's meal is trough fare or penance should have perished by now, thanks to the casual food at Belmont's Paradox Palace Cafe, downtown's Chef to Go food cart or Chinatown's newly opened Vegetarian House. Now Calendula is attempting to prove that vegan cuisine can exist as a fine-dining experience, filling the void left by the closing of Counter Culture on Northeast Killingsworth Street in 2001.

The new restaurant, housed within a richly refurbished Queen Anne on Southeast Hawthorne Boulevard, is the brainchild of polemicist/activist Craig Rosebraugh, a former spokesperson for the Earth Liberation Front and punching bag for the government. Rosebraugh's reputation as a roughhousing agitator is, however, nowhere in evidence in this well-appointed Victorian house. An intriguing dichotomy, but an attempt to psychoanalyze Rosebraugh is beyond the scope of this review.

Calendula's extravagantly tableclothed and napkined dining room fronts a healthy, liberal commitment to treading lightly upon the earth. Ingredients are organic (and, needless to add, GMO-free) and locally grown. Menus are printed on recycled paper, take-away containers are biodegradable and the laundering of the house linens is "green." If diners leave food on their plates, they don't even need to feel guilty--all table scraps are composted. These reasons alone are worth supporting Calendula. Unfortunately, they'll have to suffice until the food improves.

These are early days still, so it would be unfair to make too many comparisons between Calendula and Counter Culture. But the latter served more adventurous fare, continually surprising by pairing odd ingredients to achieve an almost alchemic transmutation of materials into hybrid flavors. Calendula plays it safe, which too frequently leads toward bland and stodgy dishes.

For example, there's the appetizer of oven-baked sweet-potato fries ($5), which on two visits were served limp to the point of decomposition. Though the tangy garlic tofu aioli dip was delicious, the mushy remains of the fries had to be baptized in the aioli with a spoon.

The warm spinach and escarole salad ($7) was excellent, while the roasted beet and arugula salad ($7) was far too sweet. The problem seems to lie with the beets themselves, which tasted as if they had been lightly baked in rock salt, which actually intensifies the vegetable's sugar content. The accompanying croutons existed as a nod to expectation rather than as an integral part of the dish.

The entrees were uneven as well. The seitan, root vegetable and mushroom shepherd's pie ($15) was far too stingy with the seitan and too generous with the whipped potato crust; I'm afraid much of that crust now decorates the compost pile. The filo tamale ($15), however, was marvelously savory, although the mole could have used more chocolate.

As for drinks, Calendula serves wine and beer, and a glass of the California Radical Red ($5) was a great companion to the warm spinach salad, while a bottle of Macbeth's Three Witches hard cider ($8) excellently complemented the tamale.

Dessert is the restaurant's greatest success. The chocolate cake ($5.50), with its layers of gooey roasted bananas and topped with toasted coconut, has the taste and texture of a classic German chocolate cake, while the caramel and apple flan ($5.50) is deliciously moist. There's also a chocolate tahini cookie that paired well with a cup of Indian spice tea at the end of the evening.

As the world eagerly turns to meet its maker (while buying tickets to watch its maker turned into meat), Calendula is a safe house of sanity. Once it sorts out its dishes, the place just might convince more people to eat thoughtfully.

Calendula

3257 SE Hawthorne Blvd., 235-6800.
Lunch and dinner Tuesday-Friday, brunch and dinner Saturday and Sunday. Closed Mondays. Credit cards accepted. Moderate. $$.

Calendula (kuh-LEN-je-luh): Any small genus of yellow-rayed composite herbs of temperate regions.

WWeek 2015

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