Dining out with Chef Peter

I have a love relationship with Portland.  Way back in 2008, it was my first city destination as a young adult with some vacation time. I drove eight hours straight from Berkeley in my 1989 Volvo and stayed the first night at a Super 8 motel.  In three days, I went to 15 restaurants.

Of those restaurants, the one that stood out the most was a place called DOC.  It was a pioneer at the time. While Bay Area had an established farm-to-table scene, DOC expressed that same philosophy in their own way.. The restaurant sat about 11 tables and felt like it was built inside someone's home.  The food was incredible, featuring the daily catch and the farmers market. And each course was roughly ten bucks, which blew Bay Area prices out of the water. I even went back years later, after marrying Nicole, to experience it again. It had the same feel, same great menu, and the same great prices. 

On our recent trip to Oregon, I wanted to return to a place I thought really represented the heart of Portland’s food scene at the time. Only with some research did I find that it had vanished. The good news about the internet, though, is that it keeps a record of where people go after a restaurant closes. That is how I found Old Pal. The chef/owner of Old Pal, Jeremy Larter, used to work at DOC. I had to go see if that magic was still alive.

A lot has changed in Portland over the last fifteen years.  It wasn’t a shock to me, because the scenery is so similar to where I live. Driving to Old Pal in the South East district of Portland, I came across several encampments and just thought, well, that looks familiar.  The restaurant was situated in an area close to other businesses all tucked away in tree-lined narrow roads that reminded me of Rockridge neighborhood of Oakland.  

I was a solo visitor to Old Pal that night. A Memorial Day schedule meant that we weren't all able to dine.  I took a seat at their long bar and ordered my meal. For any special meal, the journey should always begin with a cocktail. I ordered the clarified milk punch which advertised “all the rums.” I chuckled. It had a silky texture reminiscent of a high fat-content milk and aromatic citrus and pineapple. I could have easily had two more, but I must pace myself.

For the first course, I was intrigued by the celery salad. So bold and daring. Who does celery as a salad these days? If you haven't seen Portlandia, there's a whole episode as to how celery needs more love. That’s just coincidence, because Chef Jeremy dislikes the rap Portlandia gives to the city. 

In the celery salad, celery does not play second fiddle, but is complimented with the sweet dates, basque sheep cheese, and smoked egg yolks.   Meyer lemon dressing recalls a Waldorf salad, but elegant, not heavy.

The salad worked because the celery itself was delicious: every crunch released a burst of juice. Can you remember the last time you felt that while eating a celery stalk? I can’t. Too often celery is a dry, fibrous, healthy stalk to jam into your diet by smothering it with things that are less healthy for you, fatty ranch or creamy peanut butter. But this celery was thirst-quenching and not overpowering in flavor, like a celery leaf or Chinese celery. Just the right balance with other ingredients that you had to sit, chew, and contemplate why it would just come together like that.

With the salad done, I chose ricotta gnocchi for my entree. It came topped with mushroom bolognese, porcini cream, Grana and basil.  Now, ricotta gnocchi are different than potato gnocchi.  The ricotta subs for potatoes; egg and flour are the same binders. The flavor is still mild, but the texture creates the whole dish.  They are not fluffy little pillows, but rather uniform, firm packages, like well-done hard boiled eggs. The dish was best eaten piping hot and consumed quickly.  I washed it down with a beer flight, which made me so full that I had to pack dessert to go.  

Since the trip back to my parent’s home took fifty minutes, I could eat my dessert in the quiet time before bed. Although I did not take a picture of it, the rum cake with chai whipped cream left me happy to make the trip out to see what Portland has to offer, glad there's a restaurant that I can call an Old Pal.