WILLAMETTE WEEK'S RESTAURANT GUIDE 2000-2001 Restaurant Listings A B C D E F G H I J K L M O P R S T U V W Y Z Abou Karim I used to think swimming in a giant pool of chocolate would be my ultimate food fantasy, but now I've changed my mind. Make it Abou Karim's hummus. It's beyond Cadbury; this is the Godiva of the hummus world. The baba ghanouj isn't bad, either. Basically, it is forbidden (by me personally, if not actually by the law) to go to Abou Karim and skip the mezza plate. The "small" version comes with that heavenly hummus, baba ghanouj, falafel, extra-minty tabbouleh, tahini sauce and a choice of kebab. (The vegetarian one is the best. And I'm not even a vegetarian!) The mezza's enough for a whole dinner, but you can supplement it with extra kebabs and rice. Even if you're full, you have to get dessert: The baklava is warm, tender and honey-soaked, but even better is the milk-and-rosewater pudding, which takes up absolutely no room in your stomach and tastes like a perfume sundae from heaven. (BO) 221 SW Pine St., 223-5058. Lunch Monday-Friday, dinner daily. Moderate. Al-Amir Not long ago, Al-Amir reigned supreme among Portland's Middle Eastern restaurants. On a recent weeknight visit, though, it was not the same place. The dining room, which has always had a fabulous, rich feeling to it, felt cold and empty without the throng of patrons past. But who cares: This is still a great space for your dining enjoyment. The Al-Amir special, roasted lamb shank and charcoal-broiled chicken filet, is, as boasted, fit for a prince. Succulent is a word used only in restaurant reviews, and it applies here. Also recommended is Samak Mishwi, which is charcoal-broiled halibut with tangy tahini sauce. Beyond the entrees, make sure to have Khyay Bil-Labon, a soothing chilled cucumber and yogurt salad, and of course the baba ghannouj, which is most likely the best in town. (PW) 223 SW Stark St., 274-0010. Lunch Monday-Friday, dinner daily. Moderate. Alexis Let's get one thing straight: I love Alexis. The rich, decadent home-style Greek food, the supremely unpretentious atmosphere, the tacky '80s ethno-teria decor, the belly dancers, the selection of wines from Back Home--all of it. But a recent visit proved deeply unsatisfying. My companion and I walked into the Burnside fortress at 9:30 pm. No problem, right, given that the place says it's open until 10? Well, such would not seem to be the case. First, we were greeted with a hassle: "You gonna order fast? Because it's 9:30!" Welcome to Alexis! Then our harried waitress (she was excellent, thankfully) dumped every course we ordered on the table at once, muttering something about a potentially mutinous kitchen staff before fleeing to her next closing-time task. Worst of all, the usually beyond-reproach food was flat, from the calamari to the lamb skewer to the brittle baklava. The ample wine softened the blow. Still, this establishment remains one of the best places to go downtown--and, if you're dining with the fam' or friends from out of town, Alexis makes a great launching pad for a night out. But a word to Alexis and company: It's not 1987 anymore. Portland's culinary cup runneth over, and there are plenty of restaurants where a couple can sit down at 9:45 and get a fine meal with no grief. If you want to stay in Portland's majors, act like it. (ZD) 215 W Burnside St., 224-8577. Lunch Monday-Friday, dinner nightly. Closed Sunday. Moderate.   Assaggio Darryl and Sarah Joannides run one of the best Italian restaurants in town. It's always sheer pleasure to be in this comfortable, homey, spirit-lifting place. The successful format has hardly changed since Assaggio opened, though its newsletter informs you of special events and dishes: When truffle season arrives, plan to be there. You can choose from 15 or so pastas, or the entire table may have the three designated specials of the night. There are groupings of bruschette, and groupings of small plates--these are always seasonal. A recent outing turned up such splendid ideas as garlic custard, smoked trout and apples, and mushrooms and caramelized carrots. There is always a trio of specials, one of which is a pasta, another often a risotto, and occasionally a rabbit or a chicken dish. Italy is a vegetarian's dream country, and Assaggio is its local rep. If you ever grumble that you can do pasta at home so why bother ordering it out, think again. Assaggio will surprise you with such delights as farfalle laden with roasted figs and garlic-laced spinach, or penne with green beans, walnuts and gorgonzola. The wine selection is enormous, and beautifully chosen, and the staff is inevitably helpful in this area. Frankly, I prefer to be close to a colorful wall of wine bottles, so I always try to snare a table in the enoteca. My canteen. (RJP) 7742 SE 13th Ave., 232-6151. Dinner Tuesday-Saturday. Closed Sunday and Monday. Moderate.   Atwater's The view is ever-glorious, the jewel box of wines in the center of the room ever-glittering, and the serene space an elegant retreat from the cares of the city. Atwater's knows how to make you feel important and coddled, the graciousness of the staff evident at each stage of your meal. That said, I find Flynt Payne a chef who tries so hard to overwhelm you with his inventiveness that you spend more time in awe of the sculptural structuring of the food and puzzling out the diverse ingredients than in sheer enjoyment of a dish. This is high-court cuisine, a multicultural, "New American" version (mostly inflections of Asia) of what one might have expected at Versailles during the reign of Louis XIV. The extravagant descriptions scarcely give an idea of what to expect: Picture, if you can, "Textures of Lemon: sabayon, granité, chips, confit two ways, watermelon tartare." On the menu or the plate, this dessert begs simple comprehension. The ingredients and techniques are stunning, but the search for transcendence often masks the integrity of individual items. To be sure, there is no gainsaying the complexity of vision in the cooking, nor the superb quality of the ingredients. It's that we are made to marvel at the designer's ingenuity more than to enjoy any purity of tastes. Desserts are the highlights of a meal here, especially a stunning chocolate mousse with a mint crème brûlée concealed beneath it, the creamy disk hedged round with thin broken walls of chocolate. And it is a delight to find, in a simple salad of arugula, beets shaved so thin you think at first they are red cabbage leaves. Payne's virtuosity is beyond question; whether one enjoys being stupefied is another matter. A final note: As connoisseurs know, Atwater's wine list is magnificent, especially in its numerous verticals of choice Bordeaux and its vast holdings of West Coast reds. (RJP) 111 SW 5th Ave., 275-3600. Dinner daily. Expensive to very expensive. Baobab This West African place just off the North Park Blocks is very much a work-in-progress. The long, narrow space is definitely cool, and its air of cosmopolitan sophistication can only help it in a bleached city hungry for multiculti thrills. The food, which reflects both the Mother Continent's native fire and the imperial Frenchiness of Senegal, won't be to everyone's taste. It's hot, it's saucy, the chicken comes on the bone. Those brave enough to wade into the volcanic flows of sauce spilling over beds of rice, studded with meats and delicious veggies, will be rewarded with rib-sticking African comfort food, the kind that will whisper to you on the cold, rainy nights to come. Still, much remains to be done to elevate Baobab to the front ranks of Portland restaurants. For starters, ditch the paper napkins. Fix the bench that runs along one wall so it doesn't wobble precariously every time diners fidget. Get a liquor license. If you're going to serve beignets, move them off the appetizer menu and into the dessert section where they belong, and make them tasty and soft, not forbiddingly stiff and chewy. With a year's improvement, Baobab could be something truly special; for now, it's a fun night out for anyone whose idea of "ethnic food" goes beyond the shores of the Mediterranean. (ZD) 422 NW 8th Ave., 241-0390. Lunch and dinner nightly. Moderate. Basta's Trattoria This is Portland's semi-forgotten Italian restaurant. It's not that it isn't popular--it just doesn't have the mom-and-pop feel of Caffe Mingo or Gino's, the sophistication of Genoa or Assaggio, or the austere elegance of Fratelli. But baby, it's got a lot. A party can be boisterous or all over each other and impart no disturbance to nearby customers. There's something on the extensive menu to please little junior, Auntie Franny, and even penny-pinching Pops. You can sit in the bar, in the dining room or in leafy splendor on the adjacent patio. You can order a dinner of two starters, say the mussels and a praiseworthy Caesar salad, without a second thought that you may be committing a major faux pas. Basically, you will not be disappointed at Basta's, a place that's in alliance with the slow food movement but certainly not pokey. A few of our favorite things here include penne with plum tomato sauce and fresh mozzarella, spaghetti with clams, the roast venison special, any risotto special, tiramisu, crème caramel and any of the nebbiolo wines. One dish we're not crazy about (there aren't many) is Uncle Vittorio's Ragout; this Umbrian classic with baby-back rib meat could stand to be more flavorful. (CM) 410 NW 21st Ave., 274-1572. Lunch Monday-Friday, dinner daily. Expensive. Berbati If Berbati's Pan is a little bit rock-and-roll, its next-door cousin Berbati is a little bit country. Old Country, that is. As I stepped into the elegantly dark restaurant on a recent Thursday night, the sound of a hip-hop group warming up at the adjacent rock shack greeted my ears. In my head, though, the musical accompaniment to my entrance was the dry, lonesome whistle of a Morricone soundtrack, because Berbati was a ghost town that night. I'll never complain about having a good restaurant to myself, but the utter absence of other patrons seemed mysterious--particularly given the rock-solid Greek food that shortly began to arrive by the platter. Make no mistake: If you're up for Greek but not up for the mass-feeding atmosphere of Alexis, Berbati is the place. The lamb chop, always a fine measure of any joint's Grecian Formula, is a succulent masterpiece that shames the lackluster veggies with which it shares a plate. The cooks treat their trout to an unexpectedly crisp finish, the appetizer plate of olives launches a barrage of salty goodness, the cheap house red supplies an appropriate Dionysian chaser. All told, Berbati is an excellent, traditional mainstay that deserves better than to live in the shadows of its rock-and-roll neighbor. (ZD) 19 SW 2nd Ave., 226-2122. Dinner daily. Closed Sunday and Monday. Moderate. Bijou Cafe Things don't really change much at the Bijou. And in this trend-friendly food town, that's a good thing. For nearly a quarter-century Bijou has consistently served great meals chock-full of fresh, local and organic ingredients. Breakfast specialties include the now-legendary oyster hash and guilt-free tofu scramble. The whole-wheat quesadilla may look plain, but the roasted peppers and spicy pumpkin-seed spread give it a dollop of whallop. Healthy types can hitch their feed bags to such exquisite choices as the buckwheat noodle salad made with Japanese soba noodles and hijiki seaweed or a frothy black bean soup spiced up with jalapeño peppers and loads of onion and garlic. Like the spicy soups, local liberals and art-minded powerhouses often heat up the tables of this laid-back place, but don't worry, the exceptional staff knows just how to keep them in line. (BB) 132 SW 3rd Ave., 222-3187. Breakfast and lunch daily. Moderate. Bluehour If any restaurant in Manhattan had this much buzz about it in such a short amount of time, the city would declare an official cease-and-desist order and demand that the urbanites return to their jaded rut. But this is Portland, and the people need something to believe in, no? Restaurateur Bruce Carey is a man with vision, a man with flair: a man who knows that building something bigger and better will feed not only himself but the city as a whole. Like Herman Melville's Bartleby the Scrivener, Carey rejects the mundane in life with a simple "I'd prefer not to." Now, this doesn't mean that Bluehour is a restaurant that will shake you by the shoulders and lead you to believe that your whole life has been a shoddy sham until the moment you've stepped through the doors, but Carey's post-Zefiro project is the perfect post-Zefiro project. The design is elegant, with the high ceiling and draping scrim teasing the white interior into a duel. Chef Kenny Giambalvo, who jumped ship from Pazzo, offers some of his specialty homey regional Italian dishes alongside some drifting Continental cuisine. The winners here are the simple surprises: chocolate pudding, gnocchi, beet terrine. And, of course, you. (CBB) 250 NW 13th Ave., 226-3394. Lunch and dinner Monday-Friday, dinner only Saturday. Closed Sunday. Expensive. Bombay Cricket Club With a generous gin and tonic in one hand and a vegetable samosa in the other, I'm a happy diner. Bombay Cricket Club makes me happy. This well-established Indian restaurant has colonized the west end of the Hawthorne District. Good luck getting a table on a Friday or Saturday night--most people who know Indian food consider Bombay's among the best in town. The vegetarian curries reign supreme, especially saag paneer, fresh spinach sautéed with homemade cheese, fresh tomatoes and ginger. The chicken masala is also good, with just enough garam masala spice in the sauce to enliven the meat without overpowering it. However, meat entries grilled in Bombay's tandoori oven, such as the chicken and the mixed grill botee, can be a little dry. And watch your bread orders--the naan is as abundant as the gin, but you can have too much of a good thing. Still, take the extra effort, make reservations and head to Hawthorne. You'll be happy, too. (PW) 1925 SE Hawthorne Blvd., 231-0740. Dinner daily. Moderate. Brasilia Restaurante & Bar Word association time: We say "Brazilian cuisine" and you say...? Still drawing a blank? Don't sweat it. One trip to Portland's hot-to-trot Latin lounge and you'll head home with visions of yuccas dancing in your head. The plant with the unappealing name is quite tasty, as an appetizer of mandioca frita (fried yucca) proves. Piping hot, with a side of bright orange Portuguese pepper sauce, these puppies put Mickey D's (and Mickey M's) to shame. Salads, too, take on a tropical flair. The salada mista mixes small shrimp and marinated palm hearts with a perky cilantro vinaigrette. With Brazil's expansive coastline, it's no surprise that seafood makes its way into many of the entrees as well. The Mali maki (swordfish) came swimming in a zesty coconut sauce. The bobo de camarão (shrimp in yucca sauce) was also a big hit. Given the kid-friendly atmosphere, the high-octane drinks and the live music in the bar, this isn't the place for a romantic weekend dinner. But if you like your nights spicy and a bit exotic, head down Macadam Avenue and find out how the eclectic history of this often-overlooked Latin land translates to the plate. (JS) 6401 SW Macadam Ave., 293-2219. Lunch and dinner Monday-Friday, dinner only Saturday. Closed Sunday. Moderate. Bread and Ink Cafe If you need to feel the love the minute you walk into a restaurant, Bread and Ink may not be for you. The bistro is a long-time anchor of the Hawthorne District scene, and it doesn't always bother with the nicey-nicey. On a recent visit, the hostess seemed otherwise occupied, and the cook looked at the clock. But don't hold that against them, because once you're in, Bread and Ink is the kind of place where if you're uncertain about what wine to order, they'll let you try all four of the red specials of the night, then genuinely want to know what you think. That's a very good thing for a neighborhood place. It's also a good place for simple bread, wine and appetizers--the bruschetta with eggplant spread holds up well to chianti. The Caesar salad is classic and doesn't shy from anchovies. On a recent visit, the pasta puttanesca had a deeply satisfying richness, as did the peppered rib-eye steak with mashed spuds. Bread and Ink remains a reliable if initially standoffish friend, serving up basic cafe food with flair. (PW) 3610 SE Hawthorne Blvd., 239-4756. Lunch and dinner daily. Sunday brunch. Moderate. Cafe Azul This isn't your parents' Mexican food--it costs a lot more. What Cafe Azul does quite well is take classic Mexican dishes to the culinary extreme or dream up entrees that speak Spanish with a nouvelle accent. Interestingly, this approach works best with Azul's appetizers. With its melding of ancho chiles, cotija cheese, tomatoes and cilantro on pancake-thick tortillas, the black bean taco plate has such explosive flavors that the ATF should be on standby. While an entree of seared grouper was excellent, my guest was disappointed to find that there was no mole available during our visit and ended up with a grilled portobello mushroom drowned in a quasi-mole, which was small compensation. Desserts, however, such as the flan de cafe and house-made ice creams, are wonderful and should be intercepted by the calorie police. (PD) 112 NW 9th Ave., 525-4422. Dinner Tuesday-Saturday. Closed Sunday-Monday. Expensive. Cafe des Amis If there is a Platonic form among Portland restaurants, Cafe des Amis is it. Such plaudits do not mean this venerable establishment is necessarily the best in town--though it is very, very good. Rather, the term suggests that it is unfailingly dependable and unflappably unchanging. In short, Cafe des Amis is just what it is. You must admire a place so confident of what it does that upon every return visit you recognize not just a style but specific dishes; the familiarity of its menu makes the restaurant seem like family. "How nice to see Uncle Herbert (a.k.a. the beef in port garlic sauce) again; and look, there's Cousin Alice (you know, the duck with blackberry sauce), how lovely." The Cafe has recently added a few bistro dishes, but I swear I had the braised lamb shanks once or twice before, as well as the steamed mussels and sausage. Whenever I return I seize on the old favorites. The sweet scallops braced by wasabi butter awaken my appetite, and the luscious ravioli filled with mushrooms and bathed in a bit of suave sherry butter set me up wonderfully. The blackberry sauce on the duck is a tad too sweet and there's too much of it (ask the kitchen to lighten up a bit), but the beef is ever-glorious and my favorite dish here remains the famous pan-roasted chicken with 40 cloves of garlic (count 'em). You get a choice of soup or salad (so watch your capacity); a recent satiny vichyssoise is the best summer soup in town. At the other end of things, the Cafe hews to a somewhat anachronistic dessert tray, but the selection of creams, mousses and seasonal cobblers is always first-rate. Barry Pelzner's delicate watercolors and the moody park lithographs of Harold Altman are the only interruptions of a decor that's as calmly monochromatic as a bedroom ensemble from the French Quarter. My only suggestion for the restaurant: more selections of wine by the glass, especially at the higher end. (RJP) 1987 NW Kearney St., 295-6487. Dinner only Monday-Saturday. Closed Sunday. Expensive. Caffe Mingo Scenes from an Italian restaurant: It's a Wednesday, it's 8:30 pm and it's hot. Men in nice suits that don't seem ready to accept splashes of red sauce sit hunched over their plates at the counter. A line of people patiently wait their turn at vat. Sure, you could go get a plate of affordable pasta at lots of places around town, so what's the fuss with Mingo? Authenticity tossed with simplicity is surely part of the charm. An eggplant stuffed with seasoned bread crumbs can startle you with its subdued power, while one of Mingo's heavy-hitter plates, penne with beef braised in chianti and espresso, blankets you with rich hominess. It's not easy to get a table at Mingo, and they don't take reservations, but the loyal persevere and know that watching the party from outside on the street is part of the primi process. And this, it seems, was owner Michael Cronin's plan. (CBB) 807 NW 21st Ave., 226-4646. Dinner daily. Moderate. Caprial's Bistro You wonder when she ever sleeps. Popular public-television cooking show, yet another cookbook just published, active community service, growing family, and Caprial Pence still keeps the legions happy at her eponymous bistro. She gets help, of course, from barbecue wizard and husband John, as well as chef Mark Dowers, who runs the kitchen on a nightly basis. Together they produce brightly flavored food, Asian-influenced but solidly rooted in the classics. Cornmeal-dusted oysters, quickly pan-fried so that the crispy coating just cloaks the briny bivalves, come with a traditional Mediterranean salsa verde, while prawns fried in a cumin-scented chickpea batter, a nod to the Indian fritters called pakoras, are accompanied by a tangy red onion chutney. Crispy wonton wrappers hold the sticky rice that's served with a pan-roasted duck breast, perfectly pink in the center but with a crackling mahogany skin, and contrasting splashes of dark currant-tamarind and vivid red chile sauces let you blend sweet and hot. Pea-sized Israeli couscous is cooked risotto-style in a corn broth with roasted vegetables that carry the flavors of summer. For something that tasty, you don't really care who calls it fusion. While self-appointed guardians of tradition fret over cross-cultural cooking, Caprial and crew prove that good food transcends borders. (JD) 7015 SE Milwaukie Ave., 236-6457. Lunch and dinner Tuesday-Saturdays. Closed Sunday-Monday. Moderate to expensive. Casablanca Rumors of hypnotic belly-button voodoo have not been exaggerated pertaining to Casablanca. The story is well-told: On weekend nights, a dancer bedecked in loose, authentic attire and trained in the art of allure will provide an entrancing accompaniment to your dinner. But, with all due respect, she is not the only reason to bring yourself into the lair of vicarious North Afrique. For there is the equally alluring scent of cumin perfuming the dining room, sometimes mixed with saffron and cilantro, ingredients that trigger an atmosphere of happy indulgence. Try adding a feast of lamb shanks, simmered in honey, cinnamon and nutmeg and served with prunes and apricots, to your multi-sensory feast. Now feel your head spin. Or maybe cozy up to a plate of perfectly grilled eggplant topped with basil, tomatoes and ricotta. The cumulative results of such a hedonistic evening extend a notch beyond intoxicating. Quiet and unassuming for lunch, boisterous and sensual for dinner, Casablanca is an escape from humdrum dining. (BF) 2221 SE Hawthorne Blvd., 233-4400. Lunch Monday-Friday, dinner daily. Moderate. Castagna In the year-and-a-half since Castagna opened, it has established itself in the firmament of Portland's top restaurants. There are some who don't admire the cool, (almost) severely unadorned space, and it's true there's an austerity about Castagna's look, especially without anything to soften the large windows open to a dreary stretch of Hawthorne Boulevard just beyond. But there is something calming and refreshing about the interior, and one should take the spareness as a sign that the attention is placed where it should be--squarely on the impeccable cooking. Co-owners Monique Siu and Kevin Gibson's (he's also the chef) place is so eminently dependable, their ideas so respectful of the integrity of each ingredient, and the look (as well as the taste) of each dish so satisfying, that Castagna is a place I long to return to again and again without any danger it will produce the slightest trace of ennui. The food is a smart blending of French, Italian and Northwest. I love the combination of scallops and oyster mushrooms, a nice joke that is even better in the mouth. The dishes are straightforward but, whether a simple grilled tuna or a simple broiled lamb, are always perfectly turned out. Accompaniments are matched to the main item, and in their simplicity complement but never attempt to star in their own right. There's one exception: The Himalayan plate of shoestring potatoes is worth trying almost no matter what you order. Desserts are always wonderful. All in all, Castagna is a lovely treat for the eyes, the soul and the body general. (RJP) 1752 SE Hawthorne Blvd., 231-7373. Dinner Tuesday-Saturday. Closed Sunday-Monday. Expensive. Celadon This classy little restaurant needs to be better known. Tucked away at the foot of a ramp in an upper Northwest 23rd Avenue location that affords privacy and creates coziness, Celadon serves Japanese food with a touch of Korean thrown in for extra spice and heat. There's a cool chic about the place, with its subdued colors and glittery bar, and it makes for a romantic little dinner. You'll find some of the city's best sushi here, especially in the temaki, little ice cream cone-shaped rolls of seaweed wrapped around the standard sushi ingredients; by all means try the spicy tuna. Appetizers may be the stars here: Soft-shell crab is coated lightly with tempura batter that preserves the delicate crunch of the crustacean, and is served with a pungent dipping sauce; calamari stuffed with bean sprouts and then grilled in teriyaki sauce is an innovative way to do squid. (I found the sauce applied with too heavy a hand, but otherwise the dish is tasty and interestingly unconventional.) Main courses include several Western recipes given a Japanese touch; among the best is plump grilled duck with a spicy and rich sauce, and garnished with succulent wild mushrooms. There's a pot filled with vegetables and chicken that goes by the delightful moniker "bibimbob," definitely not for gastronomic bimbos. Be sure to top off your meal with the welcome lightness of green tea ice cream, one of many items both on the menu and in the decor whose color reiterate the restaurant's name. (RJP) 1203 NW 23rd Ave., 464-9222. Lunch Monday-Friday, dinner daily. Moderate. Chez Grill An enthusiastic thumbs up for this Tex-Mex cantina where the de rigueur Corona serves as an accompaniment for slam-bang fare rather than an alcoholic masking agent for substandard rellenos and burned beans. From Chez Grill's enchiladas de camarones, a corn tortilla bursting with jack cheese and meaty prawns (juiced with an electrified, cilantro pesto shock) to their popular polenta-stuffed avocado concoction, baked agruacate molli, most entrees are accompanied by filling sides of black beans and pueblo rice. Their grandé dishes are also worth a try, especially the roasted chicken Santa Fe, perfectly cooked and stuffed to the skin with zesty goat cheese. With its giddy mix of baroque decadence and hombre cool (jewel-toned harlequin walls and Jesus candles--a match made in heaven!), Chez Grill (and its progeny, Chez's Lounge) is a double-header of eastside chill. Mix with the locals and enjoy Chez Grill's eye-popping 12-ounce tequila goodness: a margarita that lays the good, the bad and the ugly equally low. (KC) 2229 SE Hawthorne Blvd., 239-4002. Dinner daily. Moderate. Clarke's Restaurant If you are not a Lake Oswegan, have never visited the town center of Portland's southernly suburb or didn't even know Lake Oswego had a town center, you are probably not familiar with Clarke's. Pity, too, because after visiting this dependable plaza bistro, you'll wish you'd found it sooner. Chipper, attentive servers greet you with the list of seasonal appetizers and specials, which in the bounty of fall is always an enticing prospect. Try the marinated Angus beef carpaccio, thin shavings of the highest quality raw meat covered with an artichoke-oregano vinaigrette and served with French green beans and summer-red cheery tomatoes. Further to the heart of Clarke's understated quality, the hand-trimmed ravioli stuffed with roasted butternut squash and parmigiano cheese, lightly bathed in a walnut, sage and gorgonzola sauce, is an autumnal dish that practically melts into the pores of your tongue. Such fare is complemented by warm red walls and a warm red wine list, featuring, among others, smooth and fruity Willamette Valley pinot noirs. (BF) 455 2nd St., Lake Oswego, 636-2667. Lunch and dinner Tuesday-Friday, dinner Saturday. Closed Sunday-Monday. Expensive. Clay's Smokehouse Grill As many different barbecue outlets as there are in Portland these days--sumptuous soul-food shacks, exotic Cajun parlors, trendy Southern hangouts--only Clay's focuses on the subtle art of smoking. Families, hipsters and Dixie transplants alike frequent this cozy Southeast Division Street restaurant, where the aroma of smoking meats wafts pleasantly through a thrift-store-chic dining room. The menu is a collection of mostly hits and a few misses: Smoked meats slide off the bone as if you've pulled a Jedi mind trick, and vegetarians can happily gorge themselves on a terrific sandwich. The side dish options are few if inspired (read: really good cole slaw), and some of Clay's BBQ is only average compared to other grillers around town. But, in the words of Cheech and Chong (who would be quite happy here after a few tokes), Clay's deserves enough attention in this glutted market to be still smokin'. (BL) 2932 SE Division St., 235-4755. Lunch and dinner Tuesday-Sunday. Closed Monday. Moderate. Colosso Colosso is brimming with character. Almost without fail, the waif waiters are clad in black leather pants tight enough to make Little Steven jealous. The floor is the color of bull's blood, the walls are gilded and the bathroom doors don't always lock. Cocktails and virgin drinks sport quizzical names. Ah, whimsy. Portlanders love it, and they love Colosso. It's a fun, raucous place that's perfect for first dates: In the world of flirting there's nothing more natural than making eyes while sharing a plate of shrimp and bowl of olives. But really, the more people in your party, the better. Since tapas are small and inexpensive, the best dinners happen when you have enough hungry bods to consume a variety of "little plates." Start with what sounds best, be it spicy chorizo, roasted nuts or the traditional Spanish egg-and-potato tart (nice and hearty here), and order more as necessary. The food and beverage menus are as long as the crowd can be loud, and frequent customers are rewarded with regular updates. Try an eclectic drink or stick with the cheap but delicious table red. While this isn't the most refined tapas in town, there's not much risk involved when the prices are so reasonable. (CM) 1932 NE Broadway, 288-3333. Dinner daily. Moderate. The Compass World Bistro In a town where cuisine is tossed into a melting pot marked "fusion," the Compass celebrates the diversity of our global dining village. This cozy neighborhood bistro features a changing menu that concentrates on a different region's cuisine each month. Chef Mike Siegel recently explored the Mediterranean, offering such entrees as an awesome tea-smoked rack of lamb served on a crispy zucchini and feta pancake, and a vegetarian torta rustica made with layered eggplant, roasted pepper, spinach and quinoa pilaf. Two popular entrees, meatloaf and hazelnut-crusted chicken, are permanently etched on the menu. Vegetarians will be happily surprised by sophisticated meatless dishes, and carb hounds can choose from several pastas. The kitchen uses locally grown organic produce when possible, and there aren't many places that can actually prepare black quinoa with a delicate touch. Worldly is the perfect word to describe the staff here; the servers are knowledgeable without being cloying or condescending. On hot summer nights, the lovely garden terrace fills up quickly, providing a delightful ambience that is actually out of this world. (SW) 4741 SE Hawthorne Blvd., 231-4840. Dinner Tuesday-Saturday, brunch Saturday and Sunday. Closed Monday. Moderate to expensive. Couch Street Fish House They might as well pipe in the opening notes of "Tradition" as you enter this Portland institution; this place is so old-school, J.P. Morgan would have loved it. But if you're not a robber baron, business traveler or member of Portland's trust-fund elite, you'll need to act like one for the night: This Old Town restaurant is a trifle spendy. Entrees go as high as $30, appetizers $12. What this moolah lands you is upscale meat-and-potatoes, not innovation. Both the clam chowder and lobster bisque are good--they are clammy and lobstery. Each entree is accompanied by the same roasted tomatoes and creamed potatoes. Still, the kitchen turns out a wonderful poached salmon, although the trout almondine tasted more like almond than fish. All of this well-executed but ancient-regime fare is served in the most archaic fashion: appetizer trays (for God's sake) and waiters who wheel entrees to your table and then pull steam lids off in synchronization with one another. (PD) 105 NW 3rd Ave., 223-6173. Dinner daily. Very expensive. Counter Culture Most revolutions were brewed in salons and fashionable cafes, so it's appropriate that Portland's first all-vegan restaurant should be a high-end establishment with serious cuisine. Counter Culture's fare includes many exceptional dishes. Start with the tangy sweet potato ginger cakes or the delicious pesto-marinated tempeh sticks wrapped in grape leaves. Another must is the curried corn fritters, two lightly fried patties of summer corn and eggplant seasoned with a yellow curry paste. There's also a dash of chili that suddenly blossoms on the tongue. For dinner, the seitan ropa vieja is another success, as is the occasional special of garlic-laced dal served with saffron basmati rice and a lightly crusted samosa packed with apple, potato and sultanas. For dessert, there's a moist carrot cake topped with coconut and a bit of geranium. Counter Culture also offers a fantastic brunch with a savory French toast and three varieties of crepe. (SS) 3000 NE Killingsworth St., 249-3799. Dinner Tuesday-Saturday, brunch Saturday and Sunday. Closed Monday. Moderate. Couvron The nondescript storefront hidden in Goose Hollow doesn't offer hints that inside, chef Anthony Demes and co-owner Maura Jarach are giving a small number of Portlanders a gourmet experience to rival some of the better French restaurants in the States. Your meal at Couvron is prix fixe, and each of the seven courses comes designed with artistic flare. Indeed, the plates built up in little towers and ripe with exotic flourishes are exactly the kind of haute cuisine that's mocked in popular culture, but the informal nature of the dining room, coupled with the extremely accessible staff, balances out any semblance of pretension. Every course is an exciting adventure, and just when you think you've reached sensory overload, out comes another plate to be patiently introduced by a knowing waiter. Plan to spend more than a couple of hours hanging out here inhaling the likes of scallops with leek ravioli, truffles with crème frâiche or whatever's in season. And plan not to finish dessert, regardless of how good it is, just so they'll give you a gold box to take it home in. (CBB) 1126 SW 18th Ave., 225-1844. Dinner Tuesday-Saturday. Closed Sunday and Monday. Very Expensive. Cozze There are several sides to Cozze. For four years this unassuming Southeast Italian restaurant has been the site of chef/owner Peter Roscoe's Big Night dinners, based on the delicious film, and this may have both attracted and scared away diners in equal measure. The kitchen is able to make miracles out of such seafood staples as calamari and mussels: Roscoe's kitchen spins out crunchy and perfectly seasoned plates of fried squid and octopus, as well as meaty mussels. The "Ooh La La" sauce, composed of such disparate ingredients as curry paste, lemongrass and jalapeño, is used in more than one dish. This zingy, creamy gravy suits the lasagna di mare surprisingly well: A deep and dishy bowl of assorted seafoods, it's a loose collection of goodies separated only by "Ooh La La" and sheets of pasta. This isn't old-school American/Italian, nor is it the regional cuisine so popular in Portland; Cozze dishes out experimental Italian, and for this guinea pig, it works. (BB) 1205 SE Morrison St., 232-3275. Lunch Monday-Friday, dinner Tuesday-Sunday. Moderate-Expensive. Dan & Louis Oyster Bar Restaurant For several generations, members of my family have left small-town U.S.A. (a.k.a. The Dalles) and zipped down the Columbia Gorge Highway in search of one thing: the oyster stew at Dan & Louis Oyster Bar. This old-time restaurant has the look and feel of an ancient schooner, but the knotty, nautical-style interior is where the aging process stops. While still serving the same style of piping hot stew crammed full of plump critters that my grandparents craved, this maritime museum also serves a boatload of other fresh and succulent seafood choices. To start, oysters on the half shell here are sure-fire Botticelli blushers, as are the steamed Manila clams served with melted butter, clam nectar and lemon. If you're looking for heartier fare, try the New Admiral's Seafood Fry: Less than 20 bucks gives you an ample sample of under-the-sea offerings--prawns, scallops, oysters, cod, calamari and halibut. This place is a cheaper version of the much-loved local haunt Jake's, and it feels like the Mom and Pop operation that it is--you won't find high-powered lawyers brokering deals, but you will find my family celebrating another stew season. (BB) 208 SW Ankeny St., 227-5906. Lunch and dinner daily. Moderate. El Gaucho Gaucho plays the role of a smooth-rolling luxury passenger train in its own rendition of dinner theater. The setting is CEO business; navy-blue walls with warm mahogany accents are heated up further by an open-pit grill in the display kitchen that kicks up gentle flames to personally sear every porterhouse and filet. Flash, style, surface image and--thrown in there somewhere--fine food are the chief aims of the complete Gaucho experience. On a practical level, it is the epitome of fat-juicy-steak dining and big Castro leaf smoking. From bow ties to that little sprig of parsley that's always so nice to see lying on top of your baked potato, presentation is the main attraction. Thus, exhibitions of sure-handed tableside service abound. For instance, a large mixed green salad with elite-seeming little shrimp is tossed in a rustic wooden bowl to your specification. Or an entire 27-ounce Chateaubriand is sliced while you ogle and feel mighty special. Cutting to the chase: El Gaucho = meat. El Gaucho = moolah moolah. El Gaucho = perfect hair and name-brand perfume and big-faced watches and stripped designer dress socks. (BF) 319 SW Broadway Ave., 227-8794. Lunch Monday-Friday, dinner daily. Very Expensive. Esparza's Tex-Mex Cafe Typically, within seconds of taking your seat amidst the highfalutin', mega-decorated hubbub of Esparza's, you are outfitted with the superior chip, salsa and Mexi-beer trifecta. And this combo is truly better than most. Large white corn chips arrive hot from the fryer, freshly salted and crisp. The salsa--constantly replenished by the 100-miles-per-hour staff --is spicy and refreshing. But heed the word: Ease off the chips when the inevitable refill hits the table and start focusing on Esparza's more substantial options. Like the fried catfish smothered in tangy green chile. Or the mondo chile rellenos, light on the egg and heavy on the Monterey jack cheese. Accounting for the obligatory rice and beans sides, portions range from huge to belt-busting gigantic. One entree could feed both Hank Williams and Annie Oakley after each had already devoured seven fistfuls of chips and three lime-infused Coronas. But a dish to share doesn't seem as much fun as two big, honkin' plates of Tex-Mexy flavor. Order that extra plate and take home the lefties for a satisfying lunch en la mañana. (BF) 2725 SE Ankeny St., 234-7909. Lunch and dinner Tuesday-Saturday, closed Sunday-Monday. Moderate. Esplanade The quiet, old-school atmosphere belies the ambitious offerings here. Chef Pascal Sauton combines his own French sensibilities with the same commitment to regional ingredients served in season that underscores Portland's best restaurants, and the results are delicious. Late summer means Willamette Valley heirloom tomatoes served with Juniper Grove feta from across the Cascades, or firm, briny Pacific oysters on the half shell from Alaska's Hammersley Bay. Crostini topped with honey-drizzled Tuscan pecorino and grilled Hood River pear illustrates the old Italian adage about not letting the farmhands learn how good the sheep's-milk cheese tastes with pears. (Once they do, there won't be any left.) Sauton's Gallic roots show in the little touches, like the classic potato au gratin served with the herb-crusted rack of lamb. The perfect square is golden on top, the spuds are sliced paper-thin, and there's just enough cream to make everything melt together voluptuously. There's a reason, after all, why it's a classic. (JD) 1510 SW Harbor Way, Riverplace Hotel, 295-6166. Breakfast, lunch and dinner Monday-Saturday, dinner Sunday. Expensive. Fishtales This Sellwood storefront restaurant boasts brilliant yellow walls and a plethora of kitsch maritime art, but the decor doesn't do justice to the pretty, delicious seafood that emanates from the ambitious and clever kitchen. Importing all its fish, and shellfish, from Spain--even razor clams (they're smaller, thinner, and have softer shells than the local variety)--Fishtales serves several items not generally available in these parts: daurade, merluza, langostinos and skate. Lobster bisque is another dish infrequently on local menus, and the restaurant's version is creamily intense, redolent with the crustacean; the oyster mushroom and the black truffle ravioli floating on top lend even more elegance. An appetizer of pan-seared giant squid, generously mounded, is loaded with garlic, and though it was a bit too salty on a recent excursion, the sweet taste still came through. For an extremely delicate treat, striped sea bass baked in sea salt is a must. It's served for two, and just before the two small fish are filleted, your server will present them to you in a wooden box on their bed of salt crystals. Luscious fillets of Dover sole are topped with anchovies and pan juices laden with basil; in a splendid touch, a stalk of rosemary becomes a skewer to spear grilled mussels while imparting a distinct herbal flavor. At Fishtales each fish wisely comes with its own appropriate accompaniments, and the menu shows an abundance of white wine, garlic and fresh herbs with many dishes. If there's any fault, it's a slightly too liberal use of olive oil. But that's a minor caveat. On the whole you'll find some of the most pleasing fish recipes in town. Desserts are elegant and wonderful: A thin apple tart is runny and sweet, while a lemon tart covered with meringue is perfect, a "salad" of strawberries and pomegranate lending a welcome fruitiness to offset the rich meringue. All in all, excellent and creative dishes abound here. (RJP) 1621 SE Bybee Blvd., 239-5796. Lunch and dinner Monday-Saturday. Closed Sunday. Expensive to very expensive. Fratelli There's really only one annoying thing about Fratelli: When you sit outside to devour the restaurant's thoughtful regional Italian dishes, you have to stare at a pretty unimpressive parking lot. But hey, nothing's perfect. Plus, there's a lot to look forward to inside. The odd, rectangular dining room opens up and the warm Tuscan colors complement the warm food. Large tables can accommodate your extended family. And Fratelli is a full-service hot spot that serves several purposes: It can be a great place to stop in for a glass of wine and some crostini before going out, a splendid stop for a celebratory dinner that includes hearty lasagna decadently soaked in béchamel, or a dessert haunt where you can indulge in coffee and cake. The restaurant rotates the menu every six weeks but keeps some of the constant cravings as permanent fixtures. Either way, there are no real losers here. (CBB) 1230 NW Hoyt St., 241-8800. Dinner nightly. Closed Mondays. Expensive. Fusion Flanked by aging business sentinels, Tropical Hut aquarium and Carbide Saw manufacturer, this funky bistro-cum-vintage furniture store has found its niche. The aptly named Fusion offers superbly prepared dishes in an atmosphere infused with sheer sensory fun. "Fusion" seems to be a characterization of the eclectic space rather than its food philosophy. Straightforward sandwiches and salads effortlessly segue to New York steaks, red curry mussels and a mean (as in darn tootin' tasty!) caramelized onion and chevre tart. Ear candy is equally varied. Everything from Stravinsky's Rites of Spring to Sinead O'Connor blasts though the spacious dining room--a riotous mix of leopard cushions and lace, mirrored table tops and classic furnishings. For a lazy weekend brunch, stop in for the sweet crepes: featherweight cakes drizzled with a zingy orange sauce and ricotta. Speedy, friendly service completes the experience, but who's watching the clock when a few extra minutes means a chance to ogle the trinkets and treasures served up on the housewares side? After all, where else can you come in with an empty stomach and leave with an end table? (KC) 4100 SE Division St., 233-6950. Lunch and dinner Tuesday-Saturday, brunch Sundays. Moderate. Genoa It's not hard to make the claim that Genoa is Portland's best restaurant; you just have to acknowledge there's a certain apples-and-oranges quality in saying so. No other restaurant offers a fixed-price, seven-course Italian menu. Most don't expect you to linger for three hours. And nobody cooks food that comes so close to what you'll find in Italy. Venetian cookbook author and teacher Marcella Hazan, who did for Italian food what Julia Child did for French cuisine, proclaimed her meal here "one of the five best" she'd eaten in America. The menu changes every two weeks, sometimes focusing on a particular region but always following the season. A meal starts with an antipasto, then progresses through soup, pasta, salad, a main course, dessert and fruit. It sounds overwhelming, but after nearly three decades the kitchen has perfected portion size and timing. A serving may be three small crostini, a couple of perfect oysters, a scant cup of soup, less than a handful of meltingly ephemeral gnocchi, or a little square of lasagna layered with fresh spinach pasta, buffalo milk mozzarella and tomatoes. They all taste so good you might want more, but the few bites are just enough to lead you to the next course (a four-course option is available Monday through Thursday). Between each course there's time for a little wine and conversation, both essential elements in a truly Italian meal. When the small dining room is full, it burbles with the pleasant sounds of soft talk, the musical clink of tableware and the occasional satisfied sigh. The persistent myth about Genoa is that it takes weeks to get a reservation, and with less than a dozen tables the restaurant can fill up quickly, especially with couples celebrating a special occasion. If you want to go on short notice, here's how to increase the odds of success: Gather three hungry friends, since tables for four are usually booked last. Eat later. Italians go out for dinner around 9 and stay until midnight, and you can often get a table the same day if you're willing to wait. It's worth it. (JD) 2832 SE Belmont St., 238-1464. Dinner Monday-Saturday. Closed Sundays. Very expensive. Gino's Restaurant and Bar Gino's is a lively, comforting neighborhood trattoria, which might just remind you of the real thing in some friendly Italian village. The buzz that emanates from the restaurant's two rooms testifies to the loyal patronage that has marked Gino's from the beginning. The first space is dominated by an early 20th-century mahogany bar, replete with antique mirrors and original fixtures. Along one wall, booths afford a few niches of calm and privacy. The other room is large, open and bright, with lots of posters, ancient cooking implements and a charming old post office letter box whose cubby holes are loaded with half-bottles of Italian wines. Gino's features pastas with seasonal ingredients: Spring means fava beans or asparagus with your fettucini. The menu emphasizes heartiness (and plenty of heart) with such signature pasta dishes as the meaty Grandma Jean's, or the seafood pasta with sauce that's like a thick cioppino. The mussel and/or clam starter almost constitutes a meal in itself, certainly so when matched with the immense Caesar salad. Incidentally, a number of top restaurateurs come here on Monday (their day off), always a convincing sign. (RJP) 8051 SE 13th Ave., 233-4613. Lunch Saturday, dinner daily. Moderate. Giorgio's The Hoyt Street Cafe is dead--long may Giorgio's reign. This oddly shaped space, which could just as easily slip into a forlorn funk as it gazes at the ¡Oba! Pearl District chatter-fest unfolding on the opposite corner, cruises into its new incarnation with uncommon self-assurance. I guess you can afford self-confidence when you've got Couvron alums slinging hash in the kitchen, a staff whose practiced poise doesn't erode its genuine friendliness, and food informed by Med-Sea passion and Northwestern precision. The intimate ambience, coolly lit in soft amber and clattering with life, is a feast on its own (I'll be back just to drink at the bar), but the grub takes place of pride here. Gorgeous homemade pastas anchor a short, careful menu--try the Maltagliani, a dense pile of noodles studded with shrimp. The salmon, de rigueur as it is for any Cascadian restaurant, is succulent, and a chicken breast stuffed with paté likewise unlocks unusual glories in an often perfunctory dish. Desserts like a pancake-flat, honey-sweet apple pie and a savory set of appetizers dress the sidelines beautifully. Make no mistake--this is not an addition to Portland's small but prodigious fleet of strictly Italophile restaurants but a worthy pleasure all its own. (ZD) 1131 NW Hoyt St., 221-1888. Dinner Tuesday-Saturday. Closed Sunday and Monday. Moderate to expensive. Hall Street Grill The suburban strip-mall setting could be outside Pittsburgh, San Francisco, Honolulu or Anchorage. But the Hall Street Grill has a distinctly urbane air, despite that mob of Silicon Forest geeks scarfing at the next table. Many people liken this restaurant's interior to a ski lodge, but it's more like a cozy country club--with its last decor update in the '80s. The steak and seafood menu has remained fairly constant over the years, with some Asian influences of late. The popular crispy coconut prawns are now available as an entree served on yakisoba noodles. But the food's real strength lies in hearty traditional meats--pork chops, steaks, prime rib--and delicately prepared fish. The grilled tenderloin, adorned with wild mushrooms and served atop a mound of mashed potatoes, offers a symphony of savory flavors in each tender bite. The halibut is another great balancing act; the taste of the fish is enhanced rather than hidden by the seafood stuffing. The menu's additional special sheet provides seasonal goodies prepared with the same steady assurance that the meat, poultry, fish or seafood will be tasty but not heavy. The servers here seem to really like their jobs, and the atmosphere is casual and comfortable. The Sunday family dinner is a good deal, and there's an added suburban bonus: plenty o' parking right outside the door. (SW) 3775 SW Hall St., Beaverton, 641-6161. Lunch and dinner daily. Expensive. The Heathman Restaurant No other place in Portland looks as pleasingly dignified and important as the beautifully lit room at the Heathman, where the recessed ceiling with its sea-foam green glow plays against the severe art deco pillars. There's an attentiveness to the suave service here, and accordingly you'll want to dress up for the occasion. Philippe Boulot, now firmly ensconced as one of Portland's major chefs, brings his deft Norman touch to the proceedings. His menu is highly seasonal, and though it is evidently inflected by French bistro cuisine, he makes abundant use of Oregon ingredients and touches. Boulot has great respect for local ingredients. Thus a Provençal prawn dish employs Washington County purple heirloom potatoes, and a magret of duck brings on Hood River peaches. Indeed, there are deeply Northwest ideas throughout the menu: grilled venison with lingonberry sauce, for one. Boulot follows his instincts and graces preparations with unexpected and often astonishing elegance. Desserts are up to snuff, especially the signature bread pudding, creamy and drizzled with caramel sauce. If you want to witness a power-breakfast crowd, as well as enjoy the city's most outstanding breakfast, come here for your smoked salmon hash and the Heathman's famous crab cakes topped with poached eggs. And don't plan to rush away, even if you're a day trader. It's a safer bet you'll be a contented breakfast clubber. (RJP) 1001 SW Broadway, 790-7752. Breakfast, lunch and dinner daily. Expensive to very expensive. Higgins The combination of clubby mahogany paneling, soft lighting, a lively buzz from contented diners, tables just far enough apart to combine a sense of privacy and coziness, deft and teasingly sophisticated waiters, and Greg Higgins' marvelous cooking, all make this restaurant one of my absolute favorites in Portland. It's a place I return to frequently and with alacrity. No one else in the city uses such creative seasonings, the herbs fresh from the chef's garden and employed with daring finesse. A recent outing turned up a terrine of pork, beef, and vegetables next to a bed of salty cucumber curls and pickled cherries, the flavors bracing and articulated. An appetizer of razor clams on a bed of fingerling potato hash yielded crisp and creamy clams and wonderful relish. I haven't had another confit of duck so moist and darkly intense on these shores, and the slices of rosy magret that surrounded it made for a memorable dish. We finished with a desert of berry cobbler and lemon ice cream that had bright summer stamped all over it. Higgins is the place to come for vegetarians, each meatless dish a medley of harmonious flavors as good as anything from Greens in San Francisco. The wine list is thoughtful, and Higgins is the place in town for beer, with over 150 varieties from a United Nations lineup. The adjacent bar area serves lighter dishes, and feels like a New York pub. Higgins represents a brilliant melding of innovation and a respect for the integrity of ingredients. (RJP) 1239 SW Broadway, 222-9070. Lunch Monday-Friday, daily for dinner. Expensive. Hiro Sushi Tucked into a Lake Oz strip mall, this slip of a place just has to be a destination spot--you might miss it even when its neon sign is aglow. Fortunately, the fish is worth the hunt. Inside the narrow, busy space--call ahead to reserve your chair--the chefs work the sushi station with the attention to detail of a Swiss watchmaker. Standards such as yellowtail tuna and salmon are large, luscious and very fresh, as if the stickiness of the rice bed is the only thing keeping the fish from hopping off. The lightly sauced unagi is revelatory, bringing out tastes of the eel that are cloaked by heavy, sweet barbecue sauce elsewhere. But try stepping away from the tried and true; you're in the hands of artists here. Take a stab at the specials board, or just drop your line deeper into the sushi menu. Japan's tai--or sea bream, a fish more often found in bouillabaisse--has a rich taste and tender, solelike texture. Skip the California roll for Hiro's Special, a winning mix of chopped tuna, krab and avocado. And for 50 cents, you can add a raw quail egg on the side: instant adventure. (IG) 6334 SW Meadows Road, Lake Oswego, 684-7521. Lunch Monday-Friday, dinner Monday-Saturday. Closed Sunday. Moderate to expensive. Hokkaido "I've got two words for you," Miss Dish says when she finds out I'm headed for Hokkaido. "Tempura ice cream." OK, so you could argue that those are actually three words, but you can't dispute the overall sentiment. Hokkaido is rightly famous for its awesome dessert, which resembles a warm, crispy, inside-out angel food cake à la mode. (With a cherry on top! Yes!) It's tempting, actually, to go straight for dessert, but try to resist: The "real" food is just as delicious. Sushi and sashimi platters and combo meals are the best deal; they rescue you from having to choose between, say, teriyaki salmon and shrimp tempura, and they're not very expensive considering how much food you get. But the best part about Hokkaido is the place itself. Inquisitive koi in a pond greet you when you walk through the door. You can hear waterfalls everywhere. The dining room is divided into small sections by little wooden panels, lending it a quiet, intimate feel. Not a bad place to be alone with your tempura ice cream. (BO) 6744 NE Sandy Blvd., 288-3731. Lunch and dinner Tuesday-Saturday, dinner Sunday. Closed Monday. Moderate. Hudson's Bar & Grill Hudson's Bar & Grill, nestled in the Heathman Lodge that rises improbably in Vancouver, Wash., is destined for greatness but still finding its way. From a Heathman offspring one expects elegant surroundings and sublime gourmet artistry, and Hudson's is partially there. The first roadblock is architectural: With no separation between dining room and bar (from which televised sports percolate throughout), it's hard to get cozy. And despite the refined lumberjack decor, many patrons come in T-shirts with children in tow. On Chef Mark Hosek's menu, salads sing in a deliciously pungent cream-vinaigrette marriage. Cornbread rises to heights beyond its humble Southern roots. But a gorgeous cut of prime rib is hickory-smoked as if posing as ham; a poached salmon rests on a surprisingly oily bed of spinach; and vegetarian options can be slim here as mass transit options. That said, however, Hudson's kitchen is too talented not to find its stride and while in its relative infancy is still learning to walk. (BL) 7805 NE Greenwood Drive, Vancouver, Wash., (360) 816-6100. Breakfast, lunch and dinner daily. Expensive.