Hidden Gem: Eastmoreland Market & Kitchen

You'd think, wouldn't you, that someone who writes about local food and the best places to find it would have a comprehensive list of suggestions when the subject of lunch comes up. But when I get asked that very question, my mind inevitably goes blank. Lunch? Uh…um…

It happened again just the other day when my friend Kathryn and I were wandering around in Eastmoreland and we were getting a bit peckish. Jade Teahouse, a personal favorite, was nearby in Sellwood, as was the cart pod on 13th across from the Sellwood library. Just as we were getting into the car to head in that direction, I remembered that somewhere, tucked away among the stately homes on the curving, tree-lined streets of this neighborhood, was a charming gourmet grocery-cum-café.

Called the Eastmoreland Market & Kitchen, I'd been there a couple of times just after they opened and this felt like the right time to return. Plus at this point we'd been talking about food options for some time and it was making us ravenous. Luckily the menu board was packed with options from a burgers and a tasty-sounding muffuletta to a grilled chicken sandwich and a pork belly special.

We ordered at the counter and, after admiring the meats and cheeses in the long case (which of course made us even hungrier) and the imported pastas, condiments and even my favorite Spanish flatbreads (hungrier still!), we chose a table in the front window and were relieved by the prompt arrival of our lunch.

My pork belly sandwich (top photo) was stacked with meaty slices of perfectly braised meat and pickled vegetables laid between halves of a crisp-crusted ciabatta roll, a sandwich that would give Ben Dyer's famed Laurelhurst Market sandwiches a run for their money. Kathryn's grilled chicken (right, above) with goat cheese and house chutney was no slouchy effort, either, and satisfied both our hunger and the feeling that, at least yet, I haven't quite lost it altogether.

Details: Eastmoreland Market & Kitchen, 3616 SE Knapp. 503-771-1186.

The Bar at the Market

A friend went to one of my favorite restaurants, indeed, one of Portland's best, and was not pleased with the food or the prices. She felt that for what they got and the money they spent, she would have been able to go to her favorite burrito cart ten times and been much happier with the food. And she's sworn she'll never go back again.

Evan Zimmerman, barmeister extraordinaire.

Now, barring a ridiculously bad experience, I'll always give a restaurant another try. And particularly since starting this blog, I almost feel an obligation to go more than once, if possible, in the name of fairness and to get a chance to sample as much of the menu as possible. So when a (different) friend wanted to meet for a drink at Laurelhurst Market, I couldn't wait to go.

The Badminton Cup.

You see, we'd had a spectacular meal there right after they opened, swooning over the 12-hour brisket and the beef shoulder with romesco. But our drinks were so-so that first night, not up to the raves I'd heard about the talents of head bartender Evan Zimmerman. So it seemed a second trip was in order, just to be fair, don't you think?

Those addictive fritters.

We walked in and opted for a seat at the long bar along one end of the restaurant with a view out over the patio on one side and sheltered from the din of the dining room by a partial wall on the other side. It was just after they opened for the evening and fairly quiet, so we quickly ordered our drinks and first round of apps from Mr. Zimmerman and settled in.

The drinks came, and they were stunning. Perfect for this end-of-summer evening, one a Lime Gin Rickey, the other a lovely concoction called the Badminton Cup consisting of gin, mint (thus the name), lime and a hint of cucumber. The salt cod fritters, a must-have on this menu, followed fast on the heels of our cocktails and were, if anything, better than on my first trip (and they were terrific then). This time they were crispier on the outside and creamier on the inside, and the aioli had just the right balance of garlic to be punchy without overwhelming.

Pimientos de padron.

The pimientos de padron, the type grown by Viridian Farms, are available now (until the first frost) and are something I dream about the rest of the year. They were seared in a smidge of olive oil, then mixed with sungold cherry tomatoes and mint and sprinkled with crunchy salt crystals. After switching to beer (they have a wonderful selection of six on tap) for me and rosé for my partner, we ordered two more substantial small plates, the sweetbreads with chanterelles and the gnocchi with lobster mushrooms.

Sweetbreads with chanterelles.

Very clean and tasting slightly like pork, the sweetbreads were light and meaty and laid on top of a mound of chanterelles, teeny baby artichokes and black olives. With a lovely reduction of pan juices, they were divine.

Gnocchi is, as I've said before, always a question mark for me. And chefs these days seem to be fond of searing them so they develop a crust on the outside, which, while they taste good, just don't give me the satisfaction of biting into the little pillows of happiness that I crave in this dish. Fortunately, these were very satisfying in a way that made my eyes close in dreamy delight. For real. And the substantial texture of the lobster mushrooms and the pop of kernels of sweet corn, all in a creamy bath of flavor, is a memory I'll be savoring for a long, long time.

We ended with a quick glass of Carpano Antica, an amber-colored vermouth, over ice with a wedge of orange peel and a bit of Dolin Blanc, a slightly sweet clear vermouth. Chatting with Evan about these caused him to pour us a taste of his favorite after-work libation, Fernet-Branca (right), which he described as tasting like myrrh and mint. Like the restaurant itself, I could see it growing on me with repeated applications.

Photos by Kim Ferris.

Details: Laurelhurst Market, 3155 E Burnside. Phone 503-206-3097.

Not Just Another Meat Market

We could have had the alignment adjusted, the oil changed and our tire pressure checked, since our table was just about where the lift would have been. But it had been removed to make room for tables, chairs and an expansive open kitchen.

Salt cod fritters with aioli.

The bar on one end of the room, where the shop tools, belts and diagnostic machines had sat, still serves a healing purpose, since bartender Evan Zimmerman makes his own medicinal bitters, tonics and infusions to soothe the aches and pains (and nerves) of patrons. Unfortunately, though he has a reputation around town as a master of the craft, the drinks we ordered from the menu of specialty cocktails were underwhelming.

The heavenly foie.

Dave's chorizo margarita, which he ordered in honor of the evening's meaty theme, contained chorizo-spiced tequila, sours and agave nectar. While one could argue the wisdom of ordering a sausage-inflected cocktail, it was barely a decent margarita, suffering from a lack of citrus-y punch and a balance of sweetness. My N.S. Pimm's, made from Pimm's No. 1, ginger and cucumber soda, had an excess of cucumber flavor, and the ginger was so thick (though oddly not overpowering) it made the drink a muddy mess.

Teres Major with romesco.

But fear not, because the mechanics in the kitchen under the direction of master meat guy Ben Dyer know what they're doing with all things footed and finned. Our starter of house-cured salt cod fritters with aioli rivaled those at Toro Bravo, the browned and crunchy exterior giving way to a creamy, smooth center. The fritto misto of razor clams and squash blossoms was good, though the braised shortrib and mozzarella risotto fritters were curiously absent any short rib flavor. Our OMG moment, however, came from the foie gras torchon, a slice of the most buttery, creamy and heavenly foie I've ever had, augmented by a nearly unnecessary pistachio butter and fig mostarda.

The reuben.

The best part of the meal, as you may have already guessed, were the mains that included Dave's 12-hour smoked brisket (top photo), my Teres Major, a shoulder "tender" with romesco and Mr. B's reuben. The brisket, a bronto-sized hunk that covered most of the plate, was deeply smoky and lightly sauced and got a big two thumbs up from our house smoke-meister.

The shoulder was a perfectly cooked medium rare, as ordered, with a barely smoky romesco and a sprinkling of finishing salt that gave a nice brightness and crunch. The corned beef in the reuben, while really good, didn't reach the bar set by Kenny & Zuke's, Mr. B's standard for reubeny greatness. It wasn't helped by the overly tart house-made sauerkraut or the extreme greasiness that turned his plate into a grease pit. The fries that came with the sandwich, however, were terrific, especially when dipped in the aioli left from our apps.

The service at this new entry on the dining scene is attentive and experienced, even thought it's clear they're still working out the kinks. Word is that the sandwiches served during the day are fantastic, and the butcher shop is getting a reputation for its selection of unusual cuts of meat and more-than-fair pricing. Overall, it's still early days at the Market, and I'm excited to see how it develops as it finds its stride.

Details: Laurelhurst Market, 3155 E Burnside. Phone 503-206-3097 (restaurant), 503-206-3099 (butcher shop).