A good sandwich—say, roast chicken and cranberry chutney on Como bread—is also a given at Grand Central Baking Co., credited with reviving artisanal baking in Portland nearly a decade ago. At the comfortable Bread and Ink Café, Greek flatbreads, buns for a juicy hamburger, and Sunday morning blintzes offer other improvisations on the theme.
Hawthorne is also home to Castagna, an artfully spare, luminous restaurant and a kitchen with the same aesthetic. A recent chanterelle soup was as evocative of damp woods as heirloom tomatoes and mozzarella were of sunny climes. The frequently stellar renderings of lamb, quail, and fish demonstrate an abiding devotion to Italy and France, as does the wine list.
Nearby, in neighboring Belmont, Genoa has led Portland on an adventurous tour of regional Italian cooking for 30 years. The cooks (led by chef Cathy Whims) marry Italy and prime Oregon ingredients in revelatory seven-course dinners (menus change every two weeks). One autumn evening brings a sensational Sicilian pasta alla Norma with delicate housemade taglierini, a peppery Roma tomato sauce, crisp eggplant, and walnuts.
SAUVIE ISLAND
Ten miles northwest of Portland lies Sauvie Island, an agricultural preserve and wildlife refuge that Cory Schreiber calls a 15-mile-long "piece of solitude." For the city's cooks and chefs, its small farms—from U-pick peaches, raspberries, and corn to Christmas trees and flowers—are a precious resource close at hand. But Sauvie Island, I discover, is also food for the soul. I drive there one day with Janie Hibler, author of several definitive Northwest cookbooks. She points out where to spot bald eagles, tundra swans, and sandhill cranes. We pass the orchard that grows her favorite Rosa and Hale Haven peaches, and the patch where her children picked out Halloween pumpkins. At Kruger's Farm Market, bags of cucumbers destined for pickling are loaded into the car. I had not expected an island so pastoral and unspoiled near a city of half a million. It's one more thing that sets Portland apart.
NORTHERN WILLAMETTE VALLEY WINE
Only two regions in the world are known to have the favorable synergy of climate, terrain, and soil that can produce Burgundies of character. One begins about 25 miles southwest of Portland in the gentle hills of Yamhill County. This is prime Pinot Noir country—and its reputation is also on the rise for Pinot Gris, Pinot Blanc, and Chardonnay from Dijon clones. Wine touring can be as limited or leisurely as you wish, a day's outing or a long weekend. But before heading off on the wine trail, pick up the widely available Guide to Yamhill County Wineries, essential for double-checking open days and hours for tasting rooms. Many of the smallest wineries, such as Brick House Vineyards and Chehalem, are open only by appointment, if at all. Cameron, Ken Wright Cellars, and The Eyrie Vineyards (winemaker David Lett pioneered Pinot Noir plantings in the 1960s) are among those that welcome visitors only during the annual open-house weekends on Memorial Day and Thanksgiving.
On two-lane State 99W, the main wine route, winery design ranges from lord-of-the-manse Rex Hill Vineyards, in Newberg—groomed gardens, modern sculpture, an antiques-filled tasting room—to turn-of-the-century farmhouse at Argyle and Erath, in Dundee, the latter with a broad veranda for picnics and scenic vineyard views.
Off the busy highway, country roads ramble over hill and dale where wine grapes compete with other crops such as mustard seeds, hazelnuts, and pears. One cloudless day, we are the only visitors negotiating the twists and turns to Elk Cove Vineyards, in Gaston. Our reward is the stunning vista at the top—waves of wooded hills and vines rolling eastward, the misty peaks of the Coast Ranges to the west—and a tasting room all to ourselves.
There's nothing flashy about wine country eating places until you read the wine lists and see rare Pinot Noirs you've only dreamed of drinking—but then the winemaker is likely to be dining at the next table. In McMinnville, Nick's Italian Cafe (521 East 3rd Street; 503-434-4471), a former soda fountain, believes in abbondanza, five-course menus in which the pasta alone—perhaps a lasagne with hazelnuts, mushrooms, and Lord knows what else—could take you from breakfast through dinner. Farther south, in Dayton, wild mushrooms—in chef Jack Czarnecki's tarts and soups—are one specialty at The Joel Palmer House (600 Ferry Street; 503-864-2995); another is the charm of the 1850s landmark, built by an early Oregon settler.
Tiny Dundee is disproportionately endowed with wine-friendly restaurants. In a new contemporary complex, the Ponzi wine family has created the agreeable Dundee Bistro (100A SW 7th Street, Route 99W; 503-554-1650), where one day's lunch brings pork loin on black-eyed peas, braised beet greens, and a Mission fig sauce. Next door, the Ponzi Wine Bar (100 SW 7th Street, Route 99W; 503-554-1500) is a one-stop tasting room pouring the best of the region. Besides Ponzi's current releases, there are flights of five or six prestigious Pinot Noirs, along with other varietals from a rotating roster of 50 small producers (many of which have no tasting facilities of their own). The wineries include the likes of Domaine Drouhin. Light plates such as a green salad and cheeses with fruit are served.
"We have the last of the line-caught chinook for the year," a waiter announces at Red Hills Provincial Dining (276 Route 99W; 503-538-8224), a sweet old house by the highway with homey fare and a cosmopolitan wine list of encyclopedic length and depth. The just-baked focaccia is sprinkled with rosemary and fleur de sel, and dinner begins with warmed Montrachet cheese wrapped in grape leaves to savor on crostini served with whole roasted garlic. There's deep satisfaction in drinking a fruity Domaine Serene made from Pinot Noir grapes grown just up the hill.
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