Skip to main contentAs the joke has it, nostalgia just isn't what it used to be. But two very popular Portland institutions are doing their best to undo that saying, each with its own distinct way of evoking the past.
Foothill Broiler has a look and feel that have changed nary a jot nor a tittle in decades. Entering the place is like being wrapped in a time warp, as if everything had stopped cold in the early '70s. Nancy Lee's (formerly Nancy Lee's Pharmacy Fountain) traffics more in culinary wistfulness. Where else in town can you lunch on a Waldorf salad and a bowl of tapioca? Nancy Lee's takes you back to the '40s and '50s. If Foothill Broiler can make boomers dreamy-eyed thinking about the cheeseburgers of their misspent youth, Nancy Lee's can make grandparents weep with longing for foods long since vanished from most modern menus.
Nancy Lee's occupies a rather spare-looking space a few steps from the new uptown Trader Joe's. It's plain-jane decor, Formica tables, Danish blond counter chairs and clean architectural lines create a simplicity that calms and soothes, probably just the way its patrons prefer. The clientele is a bit on the elderly side, the same type of crowd you're likely to see at a chamber music concert. As a result, it's a fine place for a quiet lunch, though things can get busy at noon.
Nancy Lee's homemade soups ($2.75 a cup, $4.50 a bowl) are soothing. The Hungarian mushroom, crammed with fungi and aromatic savory, may not be up to the thicker version at Old Wives' Tales, but it's satisfying nonetheless. The third-pounder burger ($5.95) is terrific, juicy and slurpy. The succulent and meaty roast pork sandwich on a classic kaiser roll ($6.50) arrives with a cup of fruity, chili-fortified chutney. If you're a fan of Coney Island hot dogs, Nancy Lee's does an admirable one ($5.50). Just shy of a foot in length and on a more-than-passable toasted bun, it is laden with a beefy sauce and sprinkled over with scallions. (When I asked the waitress if it were all-beef, she replied, "No, but it's all meat. Absolutely no byproducts." Hmmmm. I tried to dismiss visions of Upton Sinclair's The Jungle. OK, so it's not Hebrew National, but you don't have to be Annie Hall to be pleased with it.) If you really want to go back in time, you can get a curried egg-salad sandwich ($4.50) or, better still, a peanut butter and jelly ($3.75). There's not an up-to-date touch in the place, except perhaps the tarragon in the chicken salad.
The pies are excellent. Don't miss the lemon chiffon, light and airy, loaded with tartness, and sporting a cracklingly flaky crust. A slice reveals no band of gelatinous deep yellow across the top, rather a fluffy pale custard, frothy and ambrosial, running all the way down--alone worth the trip.
Many a West Hills lad who bussed tables at Foothill Broiler, just a few blocks from Nancy Lee's, can return decades later to familiar turf. The restaurant has new owners (the original motherly patroness had the wonderfully old-fangled name of Vida Lee Mick), and a few Greek dishes have shown up; otherwise it's the old, tried-and-true fare. Everything is served cafeteria style, but items made to order are delivered to your table. If Nancy Lee's is a nook of quietude, Foothill Broiler is a din or clatter, whether from the kids who throng the place on weekends or the constant bussing. This is a family place, and often it's a rapid in and out for them.
Much of the food dates to Archie comics. Split-pea or tomato soup ($1.50 a cup, $3 a bowl), cooked just right and evocative of old-timey nourishment (the feeling of coming home from school when Mom was there to feed you) share the blackboard menu with a tender and flavorful meat loaf sandwich. The burger is the star here, and you can choose between a quarter-pounder ($3.25) and a third-pounder ($3.95); the grill guy will cook it to your specification, so be sure to let him know exactly how you like it. It's a juicy affair, good enough by itself that you may not want to load it down, though there's a condiment table with the usual toppings. In fact, there's something like a ball-park feel to the place, where you get water from a tall galvanized metal tank, not from a fancy ice-dispensing soda machine. The chili ($1.50 a cup, $3 a bowl) is a bit salty, definitely soupy, but full of beefy flavor. The one Greek item I tried was disappointing: The tzatziki slathered on the gyros (sliced lamb on thick, pita-like bread, $3.95) lacked the usual intense garlicky, minty flavor, as if things were made mild for American tastes. Nor is the Caesar salad ($3.50) great shakes either, lacking any anchovy bite.
But the great hit at Foothill Broiler, and something I'd go far out of my way to have, day and night, is its celebrated milkshake ($2.75). I contented myself with the peanut-butter version, and it was stunning--nectarous, lush and emulsive. The unctuous drink is something like Reese's peanut-butter cups liquefied in pure cream. Like most things that cannot be good for you, it is pure, unadulterated seduction.
Powerbrokers may lunch at Higgins or the Heathman, but anyone seeking his or her past should head for Nancy Lee's or Foothill Broiler, places reigned over by the spirit of their moms, however real or mythic.
Nancy Lee's
2114-2118 NW Glisan St. 241-1137 7 am- 3 pm Tuesday- Saturday, 7:30 am-2 pm Sunday. No credit cards. Children welcome. $ Inexpensive.
Picks: Junie's cheeseburger, roast pork
sandwich, Coney Island hot dog, homemade pies
Nice touch: Bakery and takeout next door
Foothill Broiler
33 NW 23rd Place 223-0287 Open 7 am- 9 pm Monday- Saturday. No credit cards. Children almost always in evidence. $ Inexpensive.
Picks: Burgers, milkshakes, milkshakes, milkshakes
Nice touch: If you remember the place from your childhood, you'll find nothing has changed.
WWeek 2015