Ryan Magarian's Pearl Tavern Matures

It's not all food system issues around here, y'know. I also get a chance to write profiles of restaurateurs and visits to museums thanks to kind editors like Andrew Collins of Portland's The Pearl magazine. Recently I drove across the Willamette to sit down with cocktail guru Ryan Magarian to talk about his latest venture with former University of Oregon and NFL footballer Joey Harrington, called Pearl Tavern, which Magarian described as an "American sports bar meets neighborhood tavern."

After a slightly bumpy beginning, this lively neighborhood space has found its footing—and a loyal following.

It seemed like a recipe for a hands-down success: combine a highly visible corner location in a burgeoning business and residential neighborhood with the expertise and energy of a sought-after bar expert opening his fourth establishment, a Michelin-star chef, a hugely successful restaurant development group, and a national sports celebrity. Throw in a can’t-miss concept: American sports bar meets neighborhood tavern. And you’ve got an instant winner, right?

“When we started out, we let ourselves get a little undisciplined,” says Ryan Magarian, the man behind some of the city’s most successful bar programs, including neighboring Oven & Shaker, which he runs with chef Cathy Whims. His newest venture, the comfortably masculine Pearl Tavern (231 NW 11th Ave, 503-954-3796), which he opened almost a year ago with former University of Oregon and NFL footballer Joey Harrington, took a few months to hit its stride.

“We were trying to do too many things,” he says. “We were kind of looking at doing steak, we were sports, we were a restaurant, and honestly—it just didn’t connect with people at first.”

Steadily, however, Magarian and his teammates have put together a winning venture, with star chef Thomas Boyce helming the kitchen. Pearl Tavern maximizes what Magarian refers to as the neighborhood’s desire “to find comfort and community in one space.” Indeed, you’ll find an unexpectedly high level of service, food, and beverages that’s quite uncommon among sports-concept restaurants.

Magarian claims, in his humble opinion, that the tavern turns out the best burger in town. Other top dishes include a healthier version of classic nachos, featuring pulled pork, tomatillo salsa, and cotija cheese, and an unabashedly decadent mac and cheese. Chef Boyce, known for his commitment to local farms, ranchers, and fishing families, plans to feature Dungeness crab cakes when the season opens, and his fish-and-chips and shrimp with hazelnut romesco are already fan favorites.

Magarian also designed his cocktail menu with fresh ingredients in mind. Consider the Whiskey Ginger From Scratch, with freshly extracted ginger juice (“people go bananas for it,” he says) and Thumper’s Revenge, which he describes as “somewhere between a Bloody Mary and a mojito with carrot juice as a primary foundation—so fresh, but savory too.”

Read the rest of the article about his groundbreaking whiskey program, curated by the phenomenal Tommy Klus, and the tavern's "complete celebration of Oregon athletics."

Photos by Paul Wagtouicz for The Pearl magazine.

Bluehour: Rocking the Noon Hour

I miss the lunches I used to have with my mother in the little mezzanine lunch spot in the Lipman Wolfe department store downtown. When I was a child, coming "into town" involved wearing a pretty dress, white anklets, black patent leather Mary Janes and even white cotton gloves—it was, after all, the era of Jackie Kennedy and her pillbox hat. I'd order exotic fare like chicken salad with slivered almonds, or little tea sandwiches that I'd eat half-distractedly as I looked over the railing at the shoppers on the floor below.

The dining room at Meier and Frank has a similar hold on my memory, with its quiet, plush draperies, the older women sitting at "their" tables, the heavy (i.e. real) silverware, the solicitous staff who'd worked there for decades. Neither place had a menu that rose much above old school favorites like meatloaf or creamed vegetables, but they seemed fancy, even rich, to my small-town girl self.

Crab cake sandwich.

Both are now relegated to the once-upon-a-time category, but once in awhile I find myself wanting to stray from the of-the-moment hipster hangouts and cafés and go someplace with a quiet grace, lovely service and, please god make it so, terrific food. And no place in town fits that bill better than Bluehour, Bruce Carey's flagship that in the last year or so has been experiencing a renaissance under chef Thomas Boyce.

The new winter menu was being featured when my friend Bette Sinclair invited a group there for lunch recently, including a rich and velvety celery root soup, a strikingly fresh trout salad on a bed of greens and winter chicory, and a crunchy and completely filling crab cake sandwich with what looked like a whole avocado sliced in it. A star was Boyce's housemade tortellini lightly sauced with fresh tomatoes and herbs, the pasta perfectly tender and with a creamy, luscious filling that oozed out when bitten.

Trout salad.

Not to brag, but I won the jackpot when I ordered the potato gnocchi with rabbit sugo. Gnocchi, when made correctly, is often described as "pillowy." But I'm here to say that pillows are a harsh metaphor for what Boyce is making in his kitchen. His gnocchi are like little clouds, the white, fluffy kind that you see floating in perfectly blue summer skies. They practically evaporate, melting into the sauce to make a creamy mouthful.

Boyce stopped by the table to chat, and was kind enough to spill the beans on his method: cook the potatoes—always russets, he said—until they're just a bit overdone, which means they'll be a little drier. They should be riced while they're still warm, then allowed to cool to room temp. At that point add the flour. If they're too warm when the flour is added, they get clumpy; if too cool they absorb too much moisture from the air. Above all, don't work them too much. That's it.

Very old school, but very special. And most definitely a place to take your (well-behaved) child or niece or nephew to lunch. It may well be a memory they'll carry with them for decades.