Clearly the coolest neighborhood in Oregon, Northweird PDX had an above-average neighborhood newspaper.
Ergo, the fourth annual Northwest Examiner Restaurant Review .
“Northwest Dining: What The Natives Say. So, if you want to know what the people who live hear [sick] think of local eateries, read on…
“We did not print submissions contradicted by prevailing opinions.” Guess that means we love our advertisers. Whatever.
The publisher was a bit of a dick. Somehow I managed unknowingly to sleep with his wife – metaphorically – and he held an inordinate hatred for my very existence. But he did let me write for him. And I got paid and I had fun. Some good food, too. From July 1990. – JDW
SANTA FE TACQUERIA 831 Northwest 23rd. Full bar, sidewalk dining.
Boy, did this neighborhood need this place or what? Perfectly poised food-wise, price-wise and ambiance-wise between Macheesmo Mouse and Casa-U-Betcha, Santa Fe has attracted a large following in its first few months in business. An offshoot of downtown’s Maya’s Tacqueria, diners walk along a cafeteria line to order.
The good news is you can avoid tipping; the bad news is you may have to stand in line. A wide variety of Mexican favorites can be constructed from a choice of seven meats. If they don’t have it, you probably don’t want it. Everything is made fresh daily from the juices right down to the over-priced taco chips. And, si, it does have that home-cooked feel to it.
CAJUN CAFE. 2074 Northwest Lovejoy. Full bar, reservations recommended, patio dining.
Considered by many to be the best restaurant in town, if not the entire neighborhood, you expect it to be nice and it is. The Cajun offers the kind of meals that make you feel like a better person. Sophisticated. Traveled. Dare I even say, arrived?
Now that you’re here, try the Cajun Popcorn, which is, as you know, really shrimp. The jalapeno dinner rolls may cause fights between new lovers, but there’s no better accompaniment to the smoked duck and okra gumbo with andouille. That’s a fiery smoked Cajun pork and potato sausage. But you probably know that, too.
The blackened prime rib is so good it deserves a paragraph of its own.
Service is excellent, while the wine list is merely okay and the prices not for the financially meek.
It is… drum roll, please… a place where other restaurateurs come for that special meal.
ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK. 622 NW 23rd. Beer, wine, no smoking, sidewalk dining.
The consensus pick as the best pizza in the Pacific Northwest. Top quality ingredients, and they don’t skimp on the cheese. Which brings us to the question of the hour: how can an adult get full on one slice?
The nutrition program at Good Sam analyzed a slice and calculated it at 750 calories. That assumed part-skim mozzarella cheese. In fact, they use whole milk cheese, so the calorie count is much higher than indicated. But it’s great tasting, and at a dollar a slice, has to be the best value on the planet.
I showed up at Escape one night short of change and long of appetite. The lady behind the counter gave me two slices and said to bring the rest of the money back the next day. I was tempted to ask for her hand in marriage. The quality here is consistent and indisputable. Seems like there’s always a wait for while pies, and often a line for slices, which are invariably cheese, pepperoni or something vegetarian.
This place – funky and authentic – is a favorite of the MLC kids, who know something about getting the most food for the fewest coins. And the pizza is damn good.
I personally know a couple who drive down once or twice a year from Spokane for a couple of pies.
That story is true. That’s some good pie.
JAIME’S TAVERN & RESTAURANT. 1000 NW 17th. Full bar.
Is duck on the menu?, I wondered.
I walked in here a couple of years ago, wearing an necktie and escorting a woman in a hat. We wanted something different for dinner, so we’d come to Portland’s only Filipino restaurant. The waitress took one look at us and asked if she could offer directions, assuming we must be lost.
Personable Jaime Lim remodeled – apparently buying all materials at Bamboo ‘R’ Us – and nicely clad diners are no longer a complete surprise. More should try the place. It’s a kick.
The thoughtfully provided glossary of menu terms. Pechay, we’re told, is Filipino for that American standby… Bok Choy. Not to suggest the glossary isn’t vitally important. How else would you know you’ve just ordered partially incubated duck egg, or “something similar to blood stew.” Yum.
Authentic. You half expect Imelda Marcos to come walking out of the kitchen. Besides, who’d joke about Krispy Pata – deep-fried pig’s leg?
Oddly, another specialty is submarine sandwiches. Seventeen different versions, not counting the six-footer which cost $40 and feeds sixteen to eighteen people.
When you are tired of 23rd Avenue, try Jaime’s.
FRENCH’S. 1639 NW Glisan. Full bar, exotic dancers nightly.
Golly, you mean to say they actually serve food here? What a revelation.
Most of the clientele never seem to get past the bar where hot and spicy dancers practice their art of throbbing rock ‘n’ roll.
Perhaps not a place to take Mom for that special holiday celebration. Dad, maybe.
There is a separate dining room. And they do serve Cajun food. Shrimp Creole, jambalaya, crawfish etoufee, chicken liver bayou and blackened redfish are the specialties of the house. Dinners run $6.50 to $7.50. Daily specials include, on Monday – I’m not making this up – French Dip.
The work week ends with the ever mysterious Chef’s Choice on Fridays.
These girls can really cook.
HENRY THIELE’S. 2305 W. Burnside. Full bar, reservations accepted.
Walk into Henry Thiele’s and you enter a time warp. Unfortunately, we’re running out of time. The end of civilization as we know it occurs officially August 15.
After years of trying, Mrs. Thiele has sold out to developers who promise us an “upscale retail center.” Whose idea of progress is this?
No more breakfast of stewed prunes and a chicken liver omelette. Or a German pancake the size of a 1959 Cadillac hubcap. A recent dinner menu offered some 50 entrees. That’s no typo. Fifty, including Shad roe and Wienerschnitzel. Bread pudding and rhubarb sundaes were just a couple of the twenty-six (26) desserts. Food here is better than Grandma used to cook. Generations of Northwest neighbors have eaten here, served, it seems, by the same waitresses.
And nobody makes you feel better about paying your bill than the dapper 99-year-old Mr. Petti.
Save the Good Old Restaurants.
BLUE MOON. 432 NW 21st. Beer, wine, sidewalk dining.
“Take me to your liter.”
Part of the locally vast McMenamin brothers empire – seventeen taverns at last count – the Moon’s motto is “a place for family and friends.” That’s especially true since the sorely missed pool tables were replaced with picnic benches. The culinary equivalent of festival seating. There are more intimate booths.
The specialty here is liquid, with as many as three-dozen draft beers on tap. They brew their own assortment of “unbelievable, unequaled and unreal” ale in Capt Neon’s Fermentation Chamber. No suds are more unreal than the justifiably notorious Terminator Stout. A couple pints of this dark elixir and Arnie Schwarzenegger would develop a personality.
Burgers, priced from $3 to $4.50, are the mainstay. Try Surfin’ Steve’s Firm Burger, if only because of the name. You can’t go wrong with the pizza bread or the hot sandwiches.
THE KINGSTON. 2020 W. Burnside. Full bar, sidewalk dining.
The decor here is one man’s idea of the perfect guy’s den. I think I said that wrong, but you know what I mean. It’s not likely to the scene of many bridal showers. Brick and dark wood paneling. The ubiquitous television sets are never tuned to PBS.
The place used to be a sports bar, and it still is when there’s activity at nearby Civic Stadium or something to watch on the big screen. On other nights, you might find that The Kingston has become a raucous “meat market,” attracting the young and the buff. Guess it just depends on where your interests lie. Lay. Whatever.
The Kingston aims to please. Excellent food, large servings, reasonable prices. Weekday breakfast specials cost only $2.49. Two-fer dinners, including top sirloin, go for $9.95.
The menu is vast, from hot Albacore sandwiches to zucchini sticks. Show me another saloon with filet mignon and nachos. Not together, of course.
MACHEESMO MOUSE. 811 NW 23rd. Beer, sidewalk dining.
The restaurant-That-Ate-The-Sidewalk offers al fresco (boy, that’s for sure), and nouveau fast food for those who care about good health and personal longevity. (Borrring.) Tex-Mex fans may be disappointed to discover the Mouse never fries, they bake or steam. No animal fats or tropical oils are added and you can be assured all ingredients are fresh, low-fat, low-cholesterol, lower salt, etc. Your cardiologist would be so proud. There’s even a caloric total next to every entree. Which is to say, you should bring your own chili pepper.
This is Mexican food for suburbanites and Scandinavians. Nothing too spicy, much of it is mild. Oh, heck, some people might even say the food is poco bland. The key to the Mouse is its uniqueness. The cyber-tech decor should be sufficient warning.
Don’t try to make comparisons; expand your gastronomical spectrum. Appreciate the food for what it is – wholesome, plentiful, inexpensive and tasty. It’s a new concept, and judging by the satisfied customers, one that’s working.
NOB HILL BAR & GRILL. 937 NW 23rd. Beer, wine.
During halftime of the Trail Blazers’ last game of the season, one young lady was overheard to say, “This is no Red Robin.” That about sums up the Nobby.
A great place to watch televised sports, it’s a popular lunch spot, especially with those health-conscious folks from Good Sam.
In fact, you could eat all three meals here every day of the week and enjoy a nutritional balance that would not raise the eyebrows of the Surgeon General.
On the other hand, you might just eat one of the juiciest burgers in town ( a value at $2.700, wash it down with some cold LaBatt’s and solve the world’s problems with the guys at the bar.
At night, expect to ingest some serious tavern monoxide. This ain’t no spa.
PIZZA OASIS. 2241 W. Burnside. No smoking, microbrews.
They never ever ever seem to have the one-hundred-percent whole wheat crust when I want it which is always. Dang. However, it’s the only place in that will bake a fresh garlic, American bacon and anchovy combo without first asking for a note from your doctor. That must be what makes this pizza “gourmet”… a wide variety of toppings, numerous sauces and very little shame.
Offering alternative fare that’s not for the faint of heart, Pizza Oasis seems to be a refuge for proto-punk-hippies who come to Portland seeking converts to a more gonzo pie. They’ve found them.
Of course, they’ll make a plain cheese for Mom.
There’s no parking, so you’d better walk. You’ll need the exercise.
Big slices.
