Quick Hits: Palace Cakes and Maurice

It's a common malady among several of my friends. We're walking or driving someplace together and see a sweet little building or storefront that's been abandoned or underused, sometimes for years, and say, "Gosh, wouldn't it be fun to turn that into a darling café/bakery/bar/lunch spot."

Ginger cake with lemon curd at Palace Cakes.

We then fantasize about what the menu would be, whether we'd make our own pasta and which coffee roaster we'd choose for our house blend. Our dreaming never goes further than that, since most of us know folks in the food service industry and know what a crazy, backbreaking job it is to realize that dream of just the right place with just the right menu that finds just the right customers who come back again and again.

Two places that seem to have found that magic combination are Palace Cakes, Elizabeth Beekley's ode to pastries your grandmother would approve of, and Kristen Murray's Maurice, the sparkling white oh-so-French "pastry luncheonette." Both are teensy spaces with very limited seating, but seem to have hit that zeitgeist of place, time and offerings that spell instant success.

Beekley's bakery scored a building I've had my eye on for years that sits just on the western edge of the pretentiously dubbed West End neighborhood. No newb to the pastry business, Beekley and her sister—they are two of eleven sibs, all apparently crazy bakers—took the town by storm in 2007 with tiny filled cookies sold from their Two Tarts stand at several farmers' markets.

Gorgeous but not over-decorated, sitting on antique cake stands and vintage plates, Beekley uses basic ingredients to turn out deeply flavored cakes that pair perfectly with a cup of house coffee.

Counter seats at Maurice.

Maurice, located just across West Burnside from the Godzilla-like epicenter that is Powell's Books, is a bright oasis of civility, a little taste of the Île-Saint-Louis sandwiched in a row of non-descript storefronts. Like Beekley, Murray is no stranger to the pastry scene in Portland, having made desserts for the likes of Vitaly Paley's eponymous Paley's Place and the late Pearl District mega-bistro Fenouil.

Quiche at Maurice.

Savory and sweet baked goods are the focus of the intensely curated menu that may feature a light and fluffy seasonal quiche, a savory meat pie, lefse, poulet au pain or pigeon bisteeya alongside a perfectly composed green salad and desserts from tarte tatin to Swedish fika cookies and a glace du jour.

If my mother was still with us I'd take her to Powell's for a bit of book-browsing, then to Maurice for a light lunch and over to Palace Cakes for dessert. She would have called it a perfect day.

Quick Hits: Ps and Qs Market

Once upon a time your neighborhood market was a little mom-and-pop place where neighbors could pick up a quart of milk or a loaf of bread and their kids could stop in with a dime and buy candy. The owners would often live above the store and their kids went to school with your kids. Those small businesses eventually disappeared with the advent of so-called convenience markets like 7 Eleven and Plaid Pantry that were packed with snack foods, sodas and cigarettes and weren't the sort of places you wanted your children hanging out in.

Now small markets are popping up in neighborhoods again, stocked with dry goods, milk, cheese and bread, some even featuring a café with a deli and homemade soups and sandwiches. Ps and Qs Market, in the DIY spirit that is taking root and growing a new business district in Northeast Portland's Woodlawn neighborhood, is a shout-out to those little stores of yesteryear.

The mom and pop in this case are Emily Anderson and Paul Davis, a young couple who enlisted friends and family to transform an abandoned storefront church into a neighborhood market, a piece they felt was missing from the puzzle of the developing area. (Their endearingly sincere Kickstarter video tells you just how committed these folks are.)

Open from lunch through dinner, with the requisite weekend brunch hours, these two are no babes in the woods. Anderson came from managing Bryan Steelman's ¿Por Que No? and Davis cooked for years at various small restaurants around town, Bröder and Podnah's among them.

With light pouring into the space from the big windows on its face, the front is the coffee shop and deli where residents can grab a cup of joe and share the latest gossip over a pastry or sandwich. The bulk goods, produce and large refrigerated cases of milk, cheese and other fresh items line the side and rear walls, with the bustling open kitchen and service counter taking up the center of the room.

Our lunch there was on a quiet day, with neighbors stopping to chat and pat the heads of children and dogs, an unshackled bicycle leaning casually against the building. We shared soup (a Latin-inflected tomato-and-bean with corn dumplings) and a couple of sandwiches (pulled pork for Dave, rosy house-roasted beef for me). We sat outside in the shade of the awning, feeling like this little bootstrap of a market is just the kind of place that makes our city a good place to live. Which includes the local kids who stop in for red vines for a dime.

Details: Ps and Qs Market, 1301 NE Dekum St. 503-894-8979.

Quick Hits: Oso Market

In case you hadn't noticed, the latest thing on Portland's dining scene isn't spherification—using sodium alginate and calcium chloride to make balls of flavored liquid—or making bacon-flavored ice cream or even adding a surcharge to your tab to provide health care for a restaurant's employees (as worthy a cause as that is). Walk into a recently opened eatery in this town, particularly one that caters to a younger demographic, and you'll find shelves stocked not with the usual logo-ed t-shirts and shot glasses, but wines, beers and foodstuffs.

Luce opened with one wall loaded with hand-picked Italian dry goods. Laurelhurst Market boasted a full-blown butcher shop and deli sandwiches. Old Salt Marketplace integrated a meat case stocked with pork, chicken and aged grass-fed beef, along with house-made sausages and charcuterie into its whole animal meat program, as well as offering packages of the flours, beans and other products from local farms used on its menus.

Oso Market is just the latest bistro showcasing this trend, with wines, beers, ciders, honey, cheeses and bread stocked along two walls of its wood-raftered space at the east end of the Morrison bridge. Light pours in from the large windows on Southeast Grand Avenue and stop sign-red metal chairs glow against the clean, neutral-toned walls. But of course it's the food, served on mix-and-match vintage plates, that make this place worth checking out.

After a couple of lunch visits, along with a thumbs-up review of their by-the-glass wine pours from my brother, I'm ready to put this spot on my regulars list, especially after Sasha Davies decided to pull the plug on lunch at Cyril's (sob) my most recent mid-day go-to. Reasonably priced, with super-fresh seasonal offerings like sardines, wild boar brats and beautifully composed salads populating its menus, it's open for lunch, happy hour, casual dinners and weekend brunches.

Details: Oso Market and Bar, 726 SE Grand Ave. 503-232-6400.

Quick Hits: Raven & Rose, Mirakutei, Clemente's

In recent years there's been a dearth of great places to have lunch downtown, with most of the hot lunch action taking place on the east side of the river. Not that I'm complaining, mind you, since that's my side of town, but when there are friends on the west side with prescribed lunch hours, it'd be nice to have someplace decent to drop into.

Perfect celery root soup with lardons, chive blossoms.

Fortunately for downtowners, there's more than just Clyde Common and Higgins for a nice-to-fancy spot for a business lunch, a meet-up with your auntie or just a soup-and-sando with a friend. And since it's located in one of downtown's oldest buildings, a former stable for city father William Ladd's horses, Raven and Rose provides plenty of fodder (ha!) for conversation.

Rabbit Caesar salad.

Open less than six months, R&R's menu offerings, under the direction of Exec Chef David Padberg, are coming along nicely, with the intimate dining room opening for lunch just a week ago. Lunch revolves around a selection of soups and salads, a few sandwiches and a sampling of larger plates with staples like fish and chips, shepherd's pie, a couple of seafood options and a pasta dish that are augmented with Padberg's stable of seasonal vegetables and greens along with herbs from his prodigious garden.

Rhubarb phosphate.

The rabbit Caesar I ordered was spot-on, the rabbit, sourced from a small local farm, braised to fall-apart perfection and shredded over a bed of tender local greens. My friend's black cod was similar to the version found on the dinner menu, roasted and placed on top of cannelini beans, chard stems, celery and wild mushrooms. I couldn't resist ordering a rhubarb phosphate, though I was tempted by the anise spritzer that was also on the non-alcoholic beverage list. There is, of course, a complete menu of fully-leaded cocktails, wine and beer available, but I like the seasonal sodas that Padberg and Dave Shenaut, R&R's bar director, are developing, a category that isn't often found on PDX bev menus.

Next time I'm going for the fish and chips, since I'm obsessed with finding a decent representative of that most quintessential pub grub, and the burgers and fries ordered by other patrons looked luscious. Comfortable and clubby inside, with outdoor tables ringing the building on sunny days, this is a nice place to spend even a short lunch hour.

Details: Raven & Rose, 1331 SW Broadway. 503-222-7673.

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It can be said, without equivocating in the least, that I adore sushi and its riceless cousin, sashimi. They would be my choice for breakfast, lunch and dinner if it was possible. Though I'm married to someone who, while he enjoys it on occasion, is just not as cuckoo as I am for these articles of Japanese cuisine, which means lunches are a good time to head out for a fix.

There are several good places to experience this food in Portland, though it's slow going getting around to them due to the (mostly justifiably) pricey tabs that can be run up sampling this and that. Mirakutei, just over the bridge from downtown on East Burnside, is a little hole-in-the-wall spot to do just that.

It's built its reputation on ramen, but I found both the sushi and sashimi to be moderately priced and cleanly made, with super-fresh fish that was beautifully and simply presented. Well worth checking out, especially on week days.

Details: Mirakutei, 536 E Burnside St. 503-467-7501.

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Tables of steam trays, racks of meat under heat lamps and baskets and bowls heaped with pastries and out-of-season fruit have always puzzled me as a solution to a holiday breakfast. Maybe it's that Grannie and Uncle Henry and the nieces and nephews can all find at least one thing in the pile they'll like, but, really?

Clemente's.

Call us fogies, but we rarely go out for a traditional brunch or even for breakfast, preferring to sit and sip our coffee, read the paper and maybe have toast or an omelet, all in the comfort of our jammies and slippers. So on Mother's Day, when the males in the household said we were going to go on a road trip dubbed the Magical Mother's Day Mystery Tour, especially when it was mentioned that the dogs would be coming with us, I was in.

A terrific Bloody Mary.

Without a blindfold, it was pretty obvious when we hit Highway 30 that we were heading for the beach, so when we pulled into Astoria around one-ish I was more than ready to fill the gaping hole that had opened up since toast and coffee earlier that morning. Fortunately, we pulled up in front of Clemente's, the refreshing addition to Astoria's previously moribund dining scene, a place where seasonal and local rule and ingredients are treated with knowledge and respect.

Supremely satisfying crab Caesar.

It was a casual, order-off-the-menu brunch-or-lunch scene with not a steam table in sight, and I exercised my mother's privilege of ordering a Bloody Mary made with house mix and home pickles, followed by a half dozen local oysters. They needed just a couple of drops of lemon before being consumed, and then my crab Caesar arrived with a pile of Dungeness smiling up at me from the plate. Though Dave hit the jackpot with his seafood-alicious cioppino (top photo), crammed with salmon, oysters, scallops and crab. Other than a puzzling spoonful of quinoa on one side of my salad, it was a particularly satisfying way to celebrate the holiday, especially since it was followed by a romp on the beach and a (for me) sleepy ride home.

Details: Clemente's, 1198 Commercial St., Astoria. 503-325-1067.

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.

Lucking Out at LucLac

Scheduling to meet a friend for lunch downtown is always a dance. First, there's parking. I'm an inveterate street parker, eschewing unpleasant parking structures for the challenge of finding a space nearby where I can demonstrate my superior parallel parking skills. (Me? Competitive? What makes you think that?)

Then there's the question of timing, especially if the place doesn't take reservations. And the added complication that the spot we'd picked, Luc Lac Vietnamese Kitchen, had opened recently and was still experiencing buzz overkill, which meant the potential of a long wait in line. Fortunately my friend's schedule was flexible enough to accommodate an early meeting time, so we slipped in slightly after they opened and before the noon rush.

We got to the counter and placed our order, got our number and found a table for two near the kitchen in the back with a nice view of the room. This way we got to see what was coming out of the kitchen as well as gloat about our good sense of timing as the lunch line eventually snaked its way out the door. Ha!

The menu is divided into small plates, salads, pho, vermicelli bowls, rice plates, banh mi and kitchen specialties, all outlined in terms that even a newb to the cuisine can understand, making it a good place to learn the lingo or bring nervous relatives for an introductory foray.

We opted to share some small plates rather than going for a bowl of pho, which has drawn raves, or their eponymous Luc Lac, cubes of seared beef tenderloin. The mussels (top photo), which I have a hard time not ordering if I see them on a menu, were steamed in a lemongrass/tamarind broth with mushrooms and proved how versatile this native shellfish is. Whether inflected with Indian spices, Italian herbs or Mexican chiles, mussels are uniformly heavenly as long as they're taken off the heat as soon as they pop open. But let's not get off topic.

The crispy rolls with pork, taro, jicama, carrots and noodles (above right) were light and not at all greasy, and the de rigeur dipping sauce was a nice twist on the too-sweet stuff often served. Five-spice powder flavored the deep fried chicken wings caramelized in fish sauce and garlic (left) and would be great with a house cocktail. The papaya salad was very fresh but without much character and probably the least interesting thing we ordered.

Something I really liked about this place was the fact that, for a new place with lots of buzz, it doesn't feel over-designed. The flower-shaped umbrellas hanging from the ceiling give it a fanciful feel and the large mural on one wall provides a nice backdrop, but the funky wallpaper and the 50s tuck-and-roll banquette make it more homey than toney.

Details: Luc Lac Vietnamese Kitchen, 835 SW 2nd Ave. 503-222-0047.

Lovely Lunchin'

I'm not a "ladies who lunch" kind of person (as if that wasn't pretty dang obvious).

Many years ago I met a friend, along with her sister who was visiting from New York, for lunch at Zefiro. Because it was on Northwest 21st, within spitting distance of the newly-trendy (and very expensive) shops on Northwest 23rd, it was frequented by a certain kind of West Hills matron who considered it a nice enough but not-too-fancy place to meet her friends and yet safely park her Mercedes.

The wild boar sandwich.

On that day we'd ordered the de rigeur house Caesar, still one of the best I can remember, and in came a gaggle of the aforementioned matrons, one the very recognizable wife of a prominent surgeon, dressed head to toe in a bright purple patterned fake fur suit with matching pill-box hat, pearls and what were no doubt her daytime diamonds. It was a sight to take your breath, if not your appetite, away.

Needless to say, when a friend wants to meet for lunch, I tend to choose more casual settings. I posted a couple of weeks ago about having drinks and snacks at Accanto, which in Italian means "next door," in this case sharing a wall (and management) with Genoa, Portland's newly regenerated temple to Italian cuisine. Having perused the lunch menu while I was there, the next time I got to choose a place, I suggested meeting there.

Cannelini bean soup.

It's got a bright, casual, café-like feeling in the middle of the day with its large windows looking out over the corner of 29th and Belmont, and most tables have a wide-open view of the street, giving it a neighborhood-y feel. There are several beers available on tap in a variety of styles, with locals featured prominently, which are selected to match the food. The same applies to the wine list, a nice, moderately priced selection of slurpers fit for lunch or sipping.

The soup du jour was a cannellini bean with vegetables, hearty and filling. I had the wild boar sandwich, tender, falling-apart shreds of meat in a sweet-yet-tangy barbecue sauce on a baguette, topped with provolone and pickled onions. This was a boar to fall in love with, and it made me want to shove in a few of the pile of cross-cut house chips that came with it just to take it over the top and add that salty crunch.

One friend ordered the crostini di polenta al fungi, basically a mushroom-tomato ragu on toasted rounds of polenta that was complete heaven. It would be the perfect dish to share with a friend and a couple of glasses of wine (or a cocktail) and a salad, whether for lunch or an early dinner. For a place next door, it's got a lot to offer all on its own.

Details: Accanto, 2838 SE Belmont St. 503-235-4900.

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Accanto has also just announced happy hours from 3-6 pm daily, and in the evening from 9 pm-close weekdays, 10 pm-close weekends.

More Lunchin', Ladies!

There are some restaurants you go to and you know exactly where you are. Bread & Ink Cafe on Hawthorne feels exactly like a Portland cafe should. Open room, great local history (it was the original location of Fred Meyer's first store in the 30s), comfortable chairs, good solid food with clean flavors. L'Auberge back in the day, or Castagna now. On the opposite end are the corporate restaurants all the way from fast food drive-throughs to places like Chevy's where the one here will have identical siblings in Anchorage and Miami and Kansas City.

Then there are those places like Fenouil that are perfectly lovely but make you feel like you could be in San Francisco or Palm Springs. It's not that they're corporate so much as they somehow lack a sense that they're made from the fabric of the place they are in. Is it just me, or am I missing something?

Regardless, the food here is quite good judging by the lunch I had, a duck confit with flageolet beans, one Armagnac prune (not the advertised plural) and a strange little bit of undressed frisee. The duck was outstanding, the skin crackly and rich with fat, perfectly salted and meltingly tender. The beans had a nice al dente quality and a slightly smoky tinge that made them irresistible.

My dining partner KC ordered the Niçoise salad, a nice version with a big piece of seared tuna on top of greens and surrounded by haricots verts, potatoes, olives and a hard-boiled egg. She was even kind enough to let me pull out my camera and take pictures of the food, a kind of occupational hazard when you agree to dine with a blogger.

Last but not least we had coffee rather than dessert. The only reason that this is worth mentioning is that their coffee service is quite charming, a little set piece of coffee (in a cup, not a mug) with lumps of sugar (brown and white) and a little thimble-full of cream on a white platter.

This is an ideal place to bring your mother, your auntie or your just-graduated eighth-grade niece for lunch. And the large new Parisian-style outdoor dining area facing Jamison Square park looks like the it's going to be a popular place to sit outside on a warm night and survey the denizens (and denizen wannabes) of the Pearl. I just wish I knew where I was.

Details: Fenouil in the Pearl, 900 NW 11th Ave. Phone 503-525-2225.

New Lunchin' in a Favorite Spot

Growing up in Redmond, my mother would bless me with a day off from school and take me to the big city of Bend and the Pine Tavern for shopping and a "ladies lunch." Overlooking a sloping lawn with a stunning view of Mirror Pond on the Deschutes River, and with a 200-year-old pine tree growing up through floor and through the roof, it's always set the standard for a perfect mid-day repast.

Now, I love the lunches at Nostrana and Lorenzo's but it's nice to have more choices. So I was thrilled when I heard awhile ago that one of my favorite places in all of Portland, Café Castagna, was opening for lunch starting this week. I immediately made plans with fellow Castagna groupie Kim to go for their opening day.

We hit the jackpot with fabulous weather, the garden in full and glorious bloom (I'm totally enamored with the cardoon plants, those tall leafy things against the wall...so architectural!) and a table for two on the patio. The menu is a somewhat simplified version of their dinner menu, with three pizzas, their fabulous burger and fries, a pasta dish, appetizers and desserts. Plus a great idea for lunch, half orders of two of their terrific salads.

We opted to share a bowl of their Ten Treasures soup (above, right), a light broth with bit of artichoke, spring onions, fava beans, chives and peas, a perfect portrait of spring's first harvest. We followed that with a wedge of iceberg lettuce with a creamy green goddess dressing, the crunch of the lettuce offset by the richness of the chive-studded dressing.

Their featured pasta that day was chitarra with grilled scallops, tossed with preserved lemons,a "really good" Ligurian olive oil and a mild Italian green, agretti, that I'd never had before. Tubular in shape and about two inches long, owner Monique Siu said they'd had it in London recently and found a grower here who could supply them with some plants for the garden. Apparently native to marshy areas, it reminded me of sea beans with the same crunchy texture and mildly green flavor. With a couple of glasses of icy cold jewel-like rose, it made a wonderful and reasonably priced lunch.

Details: Cafe Castagna, 1758 SE Hawthorne on the corner of Poplar and Hawthorne. Phone 503-231-9959.

More Lunchin'

OK, I know I've dissed the ladies who lunch in the Pearl, but this is a place you can take your auntie, your mom or your friends for a very nice and very different lunch experience. It's Andina, a much ballyhooed entry in the hot-new-cuisine sweepstakes nationwide, and they feature "nuevo Peruvian" cuisine. That means lots of fresh fish, meats and vegetables, plus plantains, Andean grains and peppers. If you've been there for dinner, you know how good it is, and at lunch the price is a bit less and the selections are almost identical.

I met friends Monique and Sylvia there, and we sampled the menu starting with several small plates including the yucca rellena, cheese stuffed yuca with an aji Amarillo cheese sauce and a causa mixta nikkei or potato cake filled with spicy tuna, crab salad and shrimp. They have several cebiches, the national dish of Peru, usually made with raw fish marinated in lemon or other citrus juices along with salt, chiles, onions and garlic. We had the tuno nikkei, a tuna, aji amarillo, soy, pickled ginger and Japanese cucumber salad-like dish. The tuna was some of the freshest I've had and meltingly tender, in a truly unique preparation that I can't wait to have again.

They have great cocktails and a nice selection of wines, but if you want to have an authentic Peruvian beverage, go for the chicha morada, a non-alcoholic blue corn-based spiced drink that is pleasantly refreshing and different than anything you've ever had.

This place rocks with a difference that's worth experiencing. Too bad it's not on the east side!

Details: Andina Restaurant, 1314 NW Glisan, Portland; Phone 503-228-9535.