Category: Portland

My neighbor, the pastry chef.

On By Emily KeithIn i have really talented friends, Portland2 Comments

I live next door to Danielle Pruett, a pastry chef. When Aaron and I first met Danielle she simply mentioned that she was a baker at a place downtown. “Just a little place, you’ve probably never heard of it”, she explained. I didn’t inquire any further and privately continued to make my way through a long list of restaurants, food carts, and regional ingredients that I wanted to try. I’m no where close to the end of my list. But towards the top of the list there is a restaurant that I have visited more times than any other restaurant in Portland and this past summer I finally learned that Danielle is the pastry chef at that very restaurant.

Clyde Common is not really a “little place”, nor is it very unknown. I’ve taken three different friends visiting from out-of-state to their Happy Hour and on a few occasions I’ve stayed for dinner.  The unsolicited Yelp chorus gives Clyde four stars and they’ve received some impressive national press. However, this post is not really about Clyde; it’s about my good friend and neighbor Danielle Pruett – pastry chef extraordinaire.

I cook with wine. Sometimes I even put it in the food.
I cook with wine. Sometimes I even add it to the food.

This is a picture of a huge rolling-pin on Danielle’s oven. She actually uses that rolling-pin. The top of her fridge contains a professional mixer and a cake stand. Her kitchen is incredibly clean and she has an amazing collection of cookbooks, many of the books are family heirlooms from Milan, Tennessee where Danielle’s ancestors were the town bakers. It’s not so surprising that her and I get along so well. My ancestors were just on the other side of the Smoky Mountains in Burnsville, NC.

After college in Eugene, OR Danielle went to culinary school and over a glass of wine she told me a story about finding an old list she made that included her goals in life. One goal read, “become a great pastry chef at a top restaurant in Portland.” Even by her own high standards, Danielle has arrived and thrived at her own goals. I love it when that happens to people. I love it even more when success looks like this. . .

Baked Alaska
chocolate baked Alaska, Elijah Craig 12-year whiskey ice cream, pecan praline
The Alaskan Interior.
The Alaskan Interior.

One of the inspiring aspects of Danielle’s desserts is that they have a voice. You will not find the standard panna cotta or pound cake on her menu. You will only find inspired items that are seasonal in their approach and convincing in their flavor. They have a whimsy about them without being overly dainty or cute. I suspect this is what Portland Monthly means when they describe her offerings as unprecious – in a good way. Danielle’s creations go very well with the concept and “voice” of Clyde Common. The similarities are not accidental. Danielle’s approach seems to use desserts as a closing parentheses to a great meal, not a period. For example, after I consumed this. . .

offal ravioli
offal ravioli

I tried this. . .

balsamic and fig tart
caramel fig tart tatin, balsamic, cream

These dishes were an extension of the other, working in tandem to create a mood, the apprehension of the Fall season, a voice. When you order a dessert at Clyde, which you simply must do. You may be stuffed, you may be late for your next engagement, but you will want to linger at your table for a moment – not grab your check and dash. 

When the desserts come out of the Clyde kitchen, customers around the restaurant crane their necks and ask the name of the dish. It’s so fun. You know what’s more fun? Dining at Clyde Common with Danielle and watching her smile as her desserts are delivered to tables around the restaurant. A goal on a list made years ago, accomplished.

gingerbread sandwich, cream cheese ice cream, raspberry reduction
gingerbread stout cake and cream cheese ice cream sandwich with raspberry "stuff"

First Blush at Casa Naranja

On By Emily KeithIn family and chosen family, linkage, PortlandLeave a comment

Aaron and I received a phone invitation to have dinner with Aaron’s mom (Laurie) and step-dad (Jim) last Wednesday. I’m always happy when they call with a last minute idea because they are delightful and interesting people. Aaron and Laurie are alike in far more ways than they are different: they share a nearly identical view of the human experience (bad circumstances lead to unexpectedly awesome results) and they have an uncanny way of disarming people to create friendly and informative verbal banner. I’m pleased that Jim and I share a similar viewpoint on dinning out: know where you’re going before you get in the car and try new restaurants as often as possible (this is Portland, after all).

Casa Naranja is a laid back restaurant in North Portland with genuine service and good food. They have a patio that surrounds 3/4 of a cute little house. We scouted the back patio where tanned men were lounging in hammock chairs and smoking cigarettes. Laurie requires a smoke free exsistence (she’s classy like that) so we turned back to sit on the front deck. Our table provided ample seating for a party of four and a great view of North Mississippi Avenue.

We shared many small plates throughout the evening and I was very pleased with the vegetarian options that Laurie and I were able to enjoy while Aaron and Jim sampled wild boar ribs and a unrelated dish of chorizo in puffed pastry.

Spicy Basil
Spicy Basil

The cocktails were good but they all seemed to explore the sweeter side of alcohol charged libations. This Spicy Basil concoction lived up to it’s name. . .in the Basil department. Not as spicy as I would have liked. The real cocktail winner of the evening was the Portland Manhattan that Jim ordered, a Pacific Northwest berry-centric delight with just the right amount of bourbon.

I decided to post about Casa Naranja because I wanted to share the following dish with a few vegetarian friends who read this blog.

Veggie Tartar
Veggie Tartar

The Veggie Tartar is great, almost as great as the smoked tofu salad with roasted beets, arugula and sherry vinigrette. A micro thin slice of zucchini surrounds an army of diced veggies that are perched on a fantastic sun-dried tomato base. The dish is topped with micro greens and crispy wontons. This is truly a great veggie take on a classic meat-centric French dish.  The whole package is drizzled with quality olive oil.

When I lived in the South I tried to visit a restaurant several times before posting an opinion. Some restaurants (like a certain Ryan Adams themed pizza parlor) were strong contenders for a great blog review and over time the consistency failed and I chose not to write about the restaurant instead of writing a negative review. I feel a bit more bold in Portland so if my initial experience with a restaurant warrants an A or B average I’ll write about here and you are welcome to read my unsolicited (and anosmic) advice.

Lunch At Pok Pok – The Anosmic’s Dream

On By Emily KeithIn 5-cylinder sense experiences, Anosmia, Portland, unsolicited advice1 Comment

I’ve heard and read great things about Pok Pok for the past few years. I knew that I would visit, but I didn’t know that I would one day live three blocks away or how incredibly moved I would be by the experience. I think everyone who visits Pok Pok has high expectations. I am always ready for disappointment, but I didn’t expect my expectations to be shattered. . .in the very best possible way.

Living with Anosmia can be difficult. If something is burning I won’t know until I see flames, if I smell bad I won’t know until someone tells me. Eating  and cooking as an Anosmic provides a similar set of challenges; I religiously check the expiration date of dairy products, I often let garlic linger a little too long in a hot pan. Dining out without a sense of smell is a bit easier; I trust chefs of any skill level and I am often delighted by plate presentation and basic flavor components. I enjoy food based on texture, spice, and heat. On to Pok Pok. . .

Aaron and I were offered seats at the bar, we nodded in agreement and followed the host to the Soda Lounge. The place was packed at Noon on a Friday but I was happy to tuck my elbows in and situate myself on one of four bar stools. The bartender asked if we liked Thai Iced Tea and placed two in front of us. . .on the house. Delicious.

I poured myself a glass of water and started to browse my surroundings: a large bowl of assorted citrus fruits, three small prep bowls containing various forms of sugar, a clear glass of re-hydrating dates, a vat of liquid labeled “coconut simple syrup”, and directly in front of me,

Thai Basil

I began to feel very refreshed, awakened and invigorated. Such a sweet little place with so many visual hints pointing towards culinary innovation.  I perused the menu. . .

menu

I ordered a Tamarind Whiskey Sour. . .

Tamarind Whiskey Sour

Garnished with a slice of orange and an Amarean cherry, one sip filled my olfactory space with spice and tang. It is then that I fully realized what was happening to me: I was having a sensory experience unlike anything I have experienced before. The citrus, the basil, the tamarind, the illusive Portland sun through the bamboo stalks in the window, the chatter of light conversation. I am firing on 5 sense-cylinders, instead of 4.

Aaron let me order for the two of us, I ordered the items I’d read the most about. . .

Papaya Pok Pok. . .

Papaya Pok Pok

I opted to add the Salted Black Crab and the bartender immediately asked, “Have you had this before?” I shook my head from side to side and smiled. He told me that the dish would not include large hunks of crab, but the essence of the urchin and a deep sea flavor that would be evident throughout the entire dish. He said the dish would be potent but it was his favorite. I flashed the universal thumbs-up signal and said, “Let’s do this!” As the menu suggests, I also ordered a serving of sticky rice to accompany the salad. . .

Sticky Rice

I opened the canister and removed the sticky rice, placing a portion on Aaron’s plate and a portion on mine.  I ignored my portion for the moment and continued to focus on the salad. Julienned green papaya with long green beans, split cherry tomatoes, flavors of lime, chili, garlic, peanuts and so much more. I adored the addition of salted crab, picking up various bits and sucking on the ends. I poured the liquid from the bottom of the salad plate on the rice and used a piece of lettuce to lift bites in to my mouth. I barely understand why the bartender, and perhaps the rest of the staff , discussed the crab addition with new customers. However, I’m not in the restaurant business and I can only assume they want their clientele to know what to expect. For me, it felt like starting a new relationship with a disclaimer. . .”I’m a great gal, but a little bit crazy”. . .”I’m really interested in you, but I’ve hurt a lot of people in my past.” I loved everything about this dish, no disclaimer necessary.

Ike’s Vietnamese Fish Sauce Wings. . .

Ike's Fish Sauce Wings

These wings are truly next level. Sticky, spicy, sweet. Aaron and I kept looking at each other and nodding, licking our fingers and smiling. Despite all theflavors, I was astounded by the delicate natural chicken flavor that is rampant in this dish. Quoting the bearded critic from Mystic Pizza, they are “in a word, superb”. The heat builds up over time and soon I was ecstatic, thrilled to be in this restaurant, thrilled to be in Portland. When the heat swelled I grabbed a slice of pickled daikon, picked carrot, or a crisp cucumber. I was in love with tamarind, salted crab, cherry tomatoes, amazing chicken, and cute containers of sticky rice.

Dining out without a sense of smell is never like this. I don’t mean to imply that Pok Pok temporarily cured my congenital Anosmia, quite the opposite. As Aaron and I walked home I asked him what the restaurant smelled like. It must smell like so many things! He said that while it certainly didn’t smell bad, it didn’t smell too much like any one aroma. I was shocked. How is that possible!?! What about my 5-cylinder sensory experience?

After some reflection I’ve come to this reasoning. When you have Anosmia you count on several different factors for an enjoyable meal, smell is not one of them. However, could I have enjoyed this meal as much if I was eating it in a porta-potty? Absolutely not. The flavors, the day, the kind service, the company, the jar of basil in front of my face – all of these elements worked in unison to create this experince. I am still in awe.

If you know me and plan to visit me in Portland, we will go to Pok Pok. If you don’t know me and plan to visit Portland, please visit Pok Pok. Most importantly if you live with Anosmia, I beg you to visit Portland and go to Pok Pok.