Evolutionary Breakthrough

Today I'm announcing that there is concrete evidence proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that the creationists are wrong and Darwin had it right when he theorized that populations evolve over the course of generations through a process of natural selection. I saw it happen, not on some remote island or in a laboratory, but right there on my plate at dinner last night.

Asparagus and caramelized shallot crêpe with parsnip, rhubab compote and tangerine oil.

Chef Aaron Woo (at left in top photo), co-owner of Vita Café, the ever-so-crunchy natural foods restaurant on Alberta, had sterling creative credentials from places like San Francisco's Stars and Portland's ClarkLewis. But he was feeling constrained by the 70s-era mindset found in the vegetarian dining scene in Portland and longed for a challenge.

Tabetha Warren at the bar cart I'm planning to steal.

So he packed up and went to Greystone, the Culinary Institute of America's outpost in the Napa Valley, where he studied modern cuisine with Kyle Connaughton, chef at The Fat Duck in England and a devotee of modern as well as Japanese cuisine, and Aaron London, executive chef at Ubuntu, the Michelin-starred "vegetable" restaurant in Napa.

Rapini, corona beans and orecchiette with fennel, garlic, chiles and parmesan.

The inspiration and experience he gained inspired Woo to open Natural Selection, a warm and inviting place where he could experiment with the modern techniques he'd learned and apply them to rustic European dishes. Its 30 or so seats surround what's basically a large kitchen island that fronts the stove and grill, giving every seat in the house a view of Woo at work. A fabulous industrial cart that would be the envy of any steam-punk-obsessed nerd serves as a bar cart. (Note: don't be surprised if it disappears and rematerializes in my dining room.) It's ably manned by talented mixologist Tabetha Warren, who creates the restaurant's signature cocktails with the same eye for ingredients that Woo brings to his kitchen.

Moroccan spiced chickpea stew with almonds, harissa and couscous.

With a prix fixe menu of four courses for $35, there are two choices for each course, including at least one gluten-free or vegan (or both) dish per course. Woo and his staff bend over the counter arranging each exquisitely plated leaf and smear, each composition offering a thoughtful balance of flavor, texture and color.

Brioche bread pudding with dried pear, huckleberry sauce and vanilla cream.

The food is so good, as a matter of fact, that I hesitate to sully it with the baggage that goes along with the label "vegetarian," since even the most ardent carnivore isn't going to miss his ration of animal flesh after a meal here. And that's what I'd call a step forward in Portland's evolution.

Details: Natural Selection, 3033 NE Alberta St. 503-288-5883.

Aviary Takes Flight

I could start this off with some reference to the now ubiquitous quote from Fred Armisen and Carrie Brownstein's series, Portlandia, about the city's fascination with placing birds on things, but then I'd actually have to type the phrase and that would make me cringe. So to avoid that unpleasantness, I'll try something else.

How about this:

Fusion is a term that, when I hear it used in conjunction with food, makes me want to scream, "Run away!" Much like the recent fascination with molecular gastronomy, it conjures images of a three-ring circus with people in chef's coats jumping through hoops, juggling bowling pins and spinning plates to the tune of Khachaturian's "Sabre Dance." In other words, making the acts of cooking and eating more about performance and technical prowess than doing justice to the flavors found in the ingredients themselves.

Dungeness crab with winter melon.

So when I heard Aviary, a new restaurant on Alberta Avenue, described as "an innovative East-meets-West blend," I immediately went into "uh-oh" mode. Another warning bell sounded when I read that it featured not one but three chef-owners, Sarah Pliner, Jasper Shen and Katherine (Kat) Whitehead. Huh? I thought there was a "one ego per kitchen" rule. Was this a train wreck in the making?

Than last week a bunch of the city's restaurants got together for a "Dine Out for Japan Relief" benefit. Since Dave had a friend who was gaga about the place and he was a little embarrassed to admit that his foodie blogger wife hadn't been there yet, we decided to rectify the situation and head over despite my nervousness. After all, it was for charity, right?

The lighting at the table was too dark for decent photos, so forgive the lack of visuals, but the flavors and combinations we found on our plates were vivid and brilliantly creative. Organized into three categories, small plates, seasonal and larger plates, the idea is to mix and match them, ideally sharing plates among the diners at the table. We opted to be a little more traditional and ordered a few to share, then we each ordered our own entrées with the usual "bites" privilege in force.

Oxtail croquettes with tomato jam.

The Dungeness crab with winter melon and mentaiko was a personal revelation, since I'd never tasted crab and sweet green melon together. (Yet another idea I'm going to steal for future use.) When the oxtail croquettes came, they seemed a little too darling at first, but the one-bite bits exploded with a powerful meatiness in my mouth and I raised the white flag as any misgivings I'd brought with me vanished. The Asian pear and celery root salad with arugula, watermelon radish and candied cumin was genius, the sweetness and crunch of the components held together by the lacing of cumin.

My braised beef cheek with celery root, blood orange and gingko nuts was piled on a smear of creamy fennel purée, and I'm pretty sure that even Mario's dad Armandino wouldn't have turned up his salumi-loving nose at this dish with its fall-apart tender meat spiked with the tartness of the blood orange sections.

Dave was brave and ordered the crispy pig ear that was described as being done paella-style and, indeed, it did come in a small paella pan, but you can forget any Spanish inflections after that. The chunks of porky ear cracklings were essentially set on top of a creamy coconut milk rice that had been topped with a mix of braised greens, Chinese sausage and avocado. The flavor was definitely Asian-inspired, but again a combination that I'd never experienced (the "bites" rule, remember?).

It all just taught me that my prejudices are just that, and that sometimes you need to get over yourself. Hear that, you molecular gastronomists out there? (Hm…obviously I still have some work to do.)

Details: Aviary, 1733 NE Alberta St. 503-287-2400.

Gaga Over Lolo

I have to admit it was one of those ambivalent moments, kind of like arriving at the the Hundred Steps in Mt. Tabor Park and hearing Kristin say, "OK, ladies, let's go up!" I know it's going to be hard, but when I get to the top it'll feel so good. So when I heard that the tony Pearl district restaurant Giorgio's was opening a tapas bar, called Lolo, on Alberta, I felt a mixture of excitement ("Oboy! The food could be really great!") and dread ("Oh no! There goes the neighborhood.").

But I'm here to tell you that everything's copacetic. The low-key vibe of Alberta has not been disturbed by excessively flashy decor or Hummers prowling the avenue for parking. If anything, the large windows of the turn-of-the-century brick facade and the simple tables and chairs cohabit perfectly with the über-funky-but-hip DIY crowd that claims the street as theirs.

The menu follows through on this understated approach with three sections to choose from. Tapas ($3-8) are small plates that a party of four can share, allowing you to sample several of these appetizers without breaking the bank. The Raciones, or larger plates ($8-16), like the tapas, can also be shared depending on your group's inclinations, or ordered as entrées. Then there are the Postres, or desserts ($7), small bits of sweetness to end the meal.

We chose to go the shared route so we could taste a wider variety of what Lolo had to offer and, to avoid fights, we followed the classic rule requiring that the one who divides the food gets last choice. With that agreement in place, we proceeded to mow our way through our choices, beginning with the cod cakes in a pool of bottarga mayo (left). You can see that I barely had time to snap a picture before it was decimated. These little croquettes were so fresh and full of the taste of salt cod that they caused the salt cod fritters at Toro Bravo, which I'd raved, to pale in comparison.

The spot prawns with white beans in a paprika sauce (right) were mind-bogglingly tender and spicy and every last drop of the sauce was sopped up before we let the server remove the bowl. And their grilled summer squash salad with wild lobster mushrooms on a splash of romesco (left, below) was another flavor romp, with the smoky vegetables playing off the fresh greens and deep tomato of the romesco.

We also tried the braised chicken with saffron, spinach, pine nuts and currants, and found it just so-so. But the meal ended on a happy note with an unctuous caramel flan with fresh figs that had the parties' eyes rolling back in their heads. There were cocktails from the bar in the corner, and a wine list that was well-selected and priced. We went through two bottles of a Spanish wine made from the tinto de toro grape, a 2005 Liberalia Castilla y Leon, priced at $26 and a fantastic match with the food.

The service was attentive and friendly, our waitress chatting in Spanish with two of our party who are fluent speakers, and even when the place got busy (did I mention it was Last Thursday?) she was right there refilling glasses and replacing plates and silverware as the food rolled out. The only fly in this lovely ointment was the sound level, which was high when the restaurant was only half full and reached deafening by the time we left. I don't mean to be a fuddy-duddy who needs her hearing aids turned up, but even our 20-something waitress offered an unsolicited apology and said it was a problem that they were working on.

And I'll cut them lots of slack considering they've only been open a week thus far. This kind of food and service coming out of a place this early on only bodes well for the future. Needless to say, we'll be back.

Details: Lolo, 2940 NE Alberta. Phone 503-288-3400.