Quick Hits: Mextiza, Smallwares, Luce

Recent noontime visits to this trio of newcomers revealed much promise, with a side of newbie-itis.

With big bro Autentica holding court on the hot corner of NE 30th and Killingsworth with the likes of Yakuza, DOC, Beast and Cocotte, a little sister down the street might feel a teeny bit overshadowed. Indeed, Mextiza, Oswaldo Bibiano's new outlet a few blocks west of Interstate, is understated, but has a certain sophisticated style all its own.

Autentica specializes in the cuisine of Bibiano's home state of Guerrero in Mexico. But with a menu spanning the whole country and a wall o' tequila and mescal that rivals any the big boys boast, this little girl might just be poised to have her moment in the spotlight very soon.

On a recent lunch visit the housemade guacamole was laced with lime and the queso-and-salt sprinkled chips (left) were crisp and light. But what captured my eye were the enchiladas with roasted poblanos in a sauce of—be still my heart—huitlacoche cream sauce and sprigs of epazote (top photo). One whiff took me back to the Plazuela Machado in Mazatlan, the last time I'd had that particular combination, and this version stood up to my memories of it. The dinner menu covers much broader territory, and I've heard reports that it and the cocktails are worth seeking out. I definitely will!

Details: Mextiza, 2103 N Killingsworth. 503-289-3709.

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Northeast 46th and Fremont has seen a couple food businesses come and go. The latest entrant to attempt to anchor this key corner in the Beaumont neighborhood, Smallwares, has a bit of a pedigree in owner and former Nostrana sous-chef Johanna Ware. An alumna of David Chang's much vaunted Momofuku restaurants in New York City, she's revisiting those roots with what's billed as an "inauthentic Asian" spot.

My lunch there, shortly after it opened, revealed a menu with tastes collected from many Asian cultures with, as you might expect, a twist thrown in. For instance, the kimchi featured the expected cabbage and daikon, but then also included apple, which worked quite nicely. The mapo dofu (above) was a small cup of pork richly combined with a fermented black bean sauce, but it was served sitting on a cushion of savory egg custard. Mussels (left)—see, I told you I can't resist 'em—were the most traditional, in a nice broth of sake and chile flake, and had little slivers of doughy rice cake mixed in.

The only complaint was that the same chile sauce seemed to make an appearance in several plates, though this sameness of saucing may change as the kitchen adjusts the menu.

Details: Smallwares, 4605 NE Fremont. 971-229-0995.

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No sign, shelves full of Italian food products and a few tables scattered across the floor. On a side wall, a listing of delicious-sounding plates. Such is the caché of John Taboada, originator of the Spanish-inspired Navarre on NE 28th, that he can open a minimalist spot like Luce and pack in eager foodies looking to be the first among their peers to tweet about it.

On a mid-week stop for lunch, a friend and I had our choice of tables (the hipsters must still have been in bed) and we sat down to sample a few plates. The price is the only giveaway of the size of the plates…for instance, for $2 each we ordered stuffed clams, a beet dumplings and a slice of squash tart (above). Six bucks, right? What came out was a salad plate that featured three teensy little clams containing maybe a half teaspoon each of "stuffing," two 1-inch beet fritters and a maybe-1-inch-wide sliver of tart. The chicken in wine sauce was a little more generous, with a decent-sized leg divided into thigh and drumstick in a capered wine sauce. I'd like to go back in the evening and have a glass of wine and a couple of plates, but it's definitely not the kind of place to go and expect heaping plates of food or cheap prices.

Details: Luce, 2140 E Burnside St. 503-236-7195.

Mazatlan, Pt. 4: Evening on the Plazuela Machado

OK, now that it's cold and snowing in Portland (!) I'm going to make you completely sick by sharing an evening we spent strolling through the Centro Historico on a moonlit evening, a light breeze causing the temperature to dip down to, oh, 78 degrees. The doorways were lit by wrought iron streetlamps, people were just beginning to leave their day at the beach to have dinner. What can I say? It was paradise.

It was still a bit early for our table at the restaurant we'd chosen for dinner, so we wandered down the street to Topolo, a dinner house situated what was once a classic-style Mexican home.

As I mentioned before, many homes in the Centro have been converted into commercial spaces without destroying the features that make them such amazing examples of vernacular architecture. The flat stucco fronts with shuttered windows that face the street, often painted in eye-popping (and fabulous) tropical colors, that, when you walk through the door, reveal private open-air courtyards with colonnaded patios used as dining or living areas (or both).

Radiating off the patios are the interior rooms for sleeping and cooking or receiving guests. The whole structure is ingeniously situated to take advantage of both shade and any cooling breezes that might waft by, and the plants and fountains in the courtyard provide a sense of coolness and separation from the noises of the street outside.

We had margaritas and a platter of house appetizers, including crunchy pork flautas, small chimichangas filled with tender beef and cheese, and quesadillas topped by sliced sausages, which gave us the strength to roll down to La Tramoya on the Plazuela for dinner. The lamps were lit, the vendors selling trinkets to the tourists were set up in the square and tables were starting to fill with a happy and tired beach-goers celebrating the long Easter weekend with their families.

Once again I ordered the inky black huitlacoche, this time as a sauce over perfectly grilled medium-rare steak. Its earthy, tart flavor, much like a mushroom sauce with wine, made a luscious mouthful and a great pairing, especially with the spicy red wine from a Baja producer. The fish in verde sauce that Dave ordered came in a foil pouch that sent up a cloud of scented steam that was so tempting he had to share a bite with everyone at the table.

After finishing our meals and working on the remains of the wine, we sat back and listened to the people chatting with their families and scolding their kids, the waiters joking with their tables and taking orders. It was a warm night and the voices, all in Spanish, blended with the music floating on the light evening breeze. A perfect vacation moment.

Read the other posts about my trip to Mazatlan: The Historic Scene, The Mercado Central, The Fungus Among Us, Groovy Graffiti, Bewitching Breakfast and Adios.