I have never lived in a place that actually wanted to feed me. Sure, there were restaurants in the swamps of my youth, but the actual land had to be coerced into providing for those of us unfortunate enough to dwell upon it. Imagine my shock then to find every spare patch of Portland ground bursting with produce – Hell, even the most pervasive weeds force a mountain of berries on you each summer.
Given the abundance of good things readily available, you’d think that following the culinary maxim of “get the best ingredients you can and don’t fuck with them” would be a recipe for coining money. Certainly it’s the model of the folks at Jacqueline – at least for the things they do best.
We started with the charred octopus. Cephalopods are crafty – second only to an orangutan with a blood vendetta – and I have declared jihad upon them in order to protect our species from their nefarious plans. You’re welcome. The post-mortem desecration of this particular foe had rendered it perfectly delicious: sweet, with just a bit of chewiness. Both the paprika and wasabi sauces were tasty, if a little under spiced. (An aside: my need for stimulation may be a result of atrophied taste buds, rather than an actual deficiency in flavor. Still, I would have liked a bit more punch from both. YMMV). The fingerling potatoes were oddly hard – in the over-roasted way, not in the crunchy under-cooked way. Still, a strong recommend for anyone wishing to join in on a bit of xenocide with me.
The scallop ceviche was next. This began our deviation from the “good things unfucked with” strategy. I love ceviche and this one was… meh. The scallops themselves were delicious – sweet and briney, but the only other flavor that came through was the jalapeno. No citrus, no onion, just a monolithic pepper taste. The scallops were essentially raw, leading me to wonder how long they’d let the ceviche think about itself before trotting it out. Even a quick run should take a couple of hours in the acid. I could see where they were trying to go with it, but man, they just needed to leave it alone.
Grilled oysters – easily the best shellfish I’ve had in Portland. Had they been presented to me as is – just a little salt and lemon – I’d have had nothing but glowing praise. The addition of the bourbon chili butter just made them cloyingly sweet – no heat, no smoke, just sweet. I know that folks have to put their own spin on things in order to set their restaurant apart, but this didn’t add anything to the oysters. Good things, unfucked with. Or at least fuck with them in an interesting way.
Frito misto – Squash blossoms stuffed with crab and deep fried. This one continued our trip down the “unbalanced sweet” flavor highway. Crab is sweet; squash blossoms too, maybe the batter should be less so. It put me in mind of getting fish and chips in the UK – where you want the batter to be an over powering flavor, since you don’t really want to know what they’ve dipped in it. The mashed potatoes didn’t really add anything. The mushrooms, on the other hand, were fucking fantastic. I know they probably get them from a vagrant under a bridge somewhere, but the umami and richness of the mushrooms really helped offset some of the sweetness from the rest of the dish. Taken as a whole, this one is also on the recommended list.
We ended with the berries and beats salad, which is probably the best decision I’ve made in a while. Sweet, sour, nutty, salty – perfectly balanced. Using kefir as a dressing is inspired. Good things, unfucked with, which became greater than its component parts. You should eat this salad. And then eat it again.
http://www.jacquelinepdx.com/