Portland: Dinner at Genoa

[mamster]

First of all, here's Genoa's website.

As you may remember, this year for my birthday I got my wisdom teeth out. So Laurie and heyjude promised me an extravaganza in September, and on Saturday the promise was fulfilled with dinner for Laurie and me at Genoa in Portland.

I've been wanting to go to Genoa since I was in high school and first started hearing about their endless rustic Italian tasting menus. I would drive by their storefront on southeast Belmont (they always keep the shades drawn and the place always looks closed) and project myself enviously inside.

By all accounts, Genoa is as good or better than it used to be. They're using Jim Dixon's olive oil, for one thing; it’s no longer so dark you can’t see your food; and chef Cathy Whims heads up a rotating cadre of five talented chefs. We made it in on the last day of chef Jerry Husinga's late summer menu.

Our reservation was for 9 p.m. This is later than I usually eat, so I pretended we were European. Laurie and I have some friends from Spain and they are forever going out to dinner at 9:30. Anyway, the first thing you see just inside the door of the restaurant is a big table full of fruit--more on this later.

Our table wasn't ready yet, and we were shown to the sitting room, which is like the front room of a posh bed and breakfast, only it's in the back. (I peeked behind a curtain and saw a dusty stockroom adjacent to the sitting room--a reminder that a restaurant made up to look like a country manor is not, in fact, a country manor.) In the sitting room we sat on comfortable chairs and enjoyed cocktails and recent issues of Italian cooking magazines. Laurie had a Bellini and I something that sounded like “Punta y mes,” although that would be Spanish. Our waiter translated it as “point and a half,” and it was a mix of vermouth, wine, and bitters. Nightscotsman, do you know anything about this drink? I liked it, but I like bitter things in general.

We were quickly shown to our table and our waiter (a different waiter--I think there were three on duty in the 28-seat restaurant) described the choice of entree. There’s no choice on Genoa’s menu besides the entree--everyone in the restaurant is eating the same things. I enjoy dining this way: it keeps the kitchen focused and there’s little chance of choosing the wrong thing. I’m not as big a fan of the long tasting menu, because I’m bad at pacing myself, but this is my own fault. The entree choices were:

• Milk-braised pork loin chop with rapini, balsamic vinegar, and roasted peaches
  
• Salmon in agrodolce with fennel seed, Dijon mustard, fennel leaves, and sides of green beans and Italian frying peppers
  
• Quail sautéed with pancetta and shallots in a sauce of fig jam, chicken stock, and Marsala, served with pureed butternut squash
  

We weren’t forced to make a decision until after the second course, and I vacillated between the quail and the pork until then, finally deciding on the little birds. I encouraged Laurie to get the fish, since I coveted the side dishes. We ordered a bottle of 1997 Produtti di Barbaresco, an uncomplicated but delicious wine reasonably priced at $44. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t going to be a concentrated tannin bomb of a Barbaresco, and our waiter not only assured me it wasn’t, but explained the wine in such a way that I could tell I was going to like it. Or maybe it was the power of suggestion.

With each course, our waiter described the dish briefly. There is no printed menu.

The first course was bocconcino di parma: crespelle, or crepes, filled with ricotta and Parmigiano-Reggiano, crisped up in the oven and served with sautéed thinly-sliced chanterelles with a kiss of vinegar. This was an absolute knockout starter, with the tart and woodsy mushrooms taking the edge off the rich, golden-brown cheesy crepes. Both the online menu and our waiter said the crepes would contain prosciutto, but there wasn’t any. Later we heard the waiter telling another table about this antipasto, and he didn’t mention prosciutto. Guess they were out.

Next there was soup: pappa al pomodoro. This is the Tuscan tomato-bread soup, served at room temperature (“as is customary,” we were told). Good local tomatoes, house-made bread, and good olive oil, but still tomato soup.

The pasta course, tagliatelle alle melanzane, consisted of fresh tagliatelle with diced eggplant, hot pepper, and Parmigiano-Reggiano. The homemade pasta really tasted like wheat and had perfect texture, and the eggplant was also nicely textured but could have used a bit more concentration of flavor.

No entrees yet. First, a fish course, of Northwest mussels (really big fat ones; I don’t know the different types) on the half-shell. We each got five, steamed, then topped with garlic, marjoram, and breadcrumbs and briefly broiled. My mussels ranged from very slightly chewy to dead-on perfect fresh mussel flavor. If I were forced to decide whether this course or the bocconcino was my favorite, I’d take both and run away and say, “HA ha.”

The fifth course was the secondo, the entree, the plat du resistance. Laurie had a big (half a pound) fillet of salmon which I’m sure she’ll tell you about separately, and I had two quail on a bed of butternut squash. The birds were cooked just right, tender and juicy. The butternut squash was rich and good as far as pureed squash goes. I wasn’t too enamored of the fig-based sauce--a little too sweet--but I can’t say I wasn’t warned. Laurie’s green beans were perfectly cooked, and I’m not using “perfect” in the jaded restaurant critic sense. Her sautéed peppers were nicely charred in parts, but not really any better than the sautéed peppers I make at home.

They gave us some time to recover from our entrees before bringing out the dessert plate. Laurie has accepted responsibility for telling you about the dessert options. I had a coffee caramel custard with chocolate shavings, or at least three bites of one.

Finally, while I was enjoying a cup of coffee, they brought out the fruit bowl. Genoa is famous for carefully selecting the best possible fruit to finish out the meal, and even though I thought I couldn’t eat another bite, I saved room for some tart green Interlaken grapes and a few nibble of an Italian prune plum. Other options included watermelon and two kinds of pear, Asian and non-Asian.

Total time: 2.5 hours. Since it was a gift, we didn’t see the bill, but at well over $100 per person, this was the most expensive meal I’ve ever weaseled out of paying for.

Genoa aims high and succeeds more often than not, but this was not the meal of a lifetime--it was a distinctly mixed experience. Now the critique.

There were a couple of serious service errors. First, our places were set and entrees delivered in reverse. It’s one thing to lose track in a large party, but a party of two? In a restaurant that seats 28?

Second, this is probably a minority view, but I am really sick of waiters asking me how I like the food while I’m eating it. Sure, at an unprepossessing place I’d rather have a waiter ask than disappear, but at one of the top restaurants in the region, it’s not too much to insist that waiters take the responsibility for recognizing whether a customer is unhappy, offering assistance if they are, and appearing to recede into the background if they are not. If I invited you to my house and asked you how you liked your food three bites in, I’d be guilty of low self-esteem or fishing for compliments. Maybe I could be excused for these things, but a great restaurant can’t.

Laurie can tell you about the third and most egregious service lapse. (This is how we keep people tuned to Pacific Northwest.) I will note that her fish was served without skin, which is throwing away the best part of the salmon. I hope the staff got the skin.

My final criticism may paint me as a spoiled diner--and maybe I’ve been spending too much time on eGullet--but I think it was a mistake for Genoa to serve these soup and pasta courses. Not only were they well prepared but extremely ordinary, but this was a $68 menu, and the two servings of soup and pasta together represented under a dollar’s worth of ingredients (and probably well under). I would like to be able to go to a restaurant in Portland and get great renditions of tomato soup and tagliatelle with eggplant--just not this restaurant. The menu as a whole was completely lacking in luxury ingredients (unless you count chanterelles), and I don’t think that’s a problem as long as each dish represents a chef’s serious thought, tinkering, and successful conclusion. It’s almost parallel to what I said above about the service: yes, I’d rather have classic dishes done well than bad experiments, but in this context what I should have is experiments, done well, on a classical foundation. Several dishes at Genoa failed to live up to that standard.

So there it is (most of it, anyway): some seriously great food and some serious problems. I’m not at all sorry we went, but rarely have I had more mixed feelings about a meal.

[thelastsupper]

Wow! Thanks for the detailed report. I have been curious about Genoa for awhile but somehow end up going to Vancouver rather than Portland whenever I want to splurge on a meal/short vacation. Well, I know

why--> Canadian dollar.

In any case, though you point out all the weak points, your review kind of makes me want to go there and see for myself. I am not sure if that is the correct reading but . . . I guess I really enjoy tasting menus.

[mamster]

I'd advise anyone interested in Genoa to go--some of the food was simply world-class, and despite my various criticisms, I did enjoy the meal.

[macrosan]

Laurie had a Bellini and I something that sounded like “Punta y mes,” although that would be Spanish.

Matthew, it's Punt e Mes which is a brand of red vermouth. I guess you had a cocktail made from it.

I enjoyed your report, and I'll make some comments on your thread in the General forum, from whence I came here

[mamster]

Thanks, Macrosan! Yes, I started a related thread ("Expensive restaurant, simple dishes") over in General, where I am being well and fairly reamed for some of my comments. Okay, mildly reamed by eGullet standards. Check it out.

[nightscotsman]

Great review mamster - thanks for all the details. Still waiting for the dessert follow up... ::tapping foot::

Your report actually seems very similar to my experience at Genoa years (about 10) ago. I was very unknowledgable at the time, but I remember the dishes being uncomplicated and using fairly common ingredients, but clean and light tasting with perfect flavor balance. One dish that stood out was a course of tiny lamb chops, deep fried, served with lemon wedges and eaten with your fingers. Couldn't have more simple, but it was perfect.

It was a long time ago, so I don't remember much about the service, though your description of the lounge sounds familiar. Would I go back? Maybe, but there are many other restaurants that I would like to try first. I agree that it does seem a bit expensive for what you get.

[tighe]

Great account mamster. Since I know from past posts that you are a fan of La Spiga, how would you compare/contrast the quality and style of the food. Obviously Genoa is shooting higher, but if you've ever been to one of the special dinners at Spiga, perhaps that would be a better comparison. Thanks.

[LaurieA-B]

Dessert report:

A large tray is brought to each table with one of each dessert. The first is their house dessert: Boccone Dolce. It looks somewhat like the picture, a large wedge of that. Matthew's custard, served in a ramekin. Profiteroles: two, filled with an orange-flower chocolate (shavings) gelato, and chocolate sauce. Gelato: large glass dish with a base of very pale verjus flavor, topped by very dark blackberry flavor. A wedge of chocolate torte (didn't catch all the details; layers of chocolate cakelike stuff). Fresh fruit tart: nectarines and blackberries on vanilla pastry cream in a sable crust. There may have been one more dessert that I can't remember.

By the time dessert arrived I was barely holding my head up; it was late, and the wine, while delicious, hadn't agreed with me very well. After enjoying the first four courses very much (including the mussels, which I had never tasted before), I didn't have much energy for three more. I ate only four bites of the large portion of excellent salmon, and three green beans.

As my plate was still full, the waiter offered to wrap the remaining portion for me to take home. I agreed, as it was a large piece of very nice salmon. I expected it would be presented to me at the conclusion of the meal. It did not, however, re-appear. The waiter shook our hands as we left, but did not offer the salmon.

When I realized that the leftovers were not coming, I was at a loss. It's possible there was a nicely wrapped package in the refrigerator that was forgotten; it's possible that it was thrown away. Suspecting the latter, I didn't say anything. I did not mind the loss of leftovers. I did mind very much such negligent service as to forget or ignore the offer to wrap the food.

As for my dessert, normally I would have sampled the profiteroles, but the fruit tart was the most appealing after five courses. It tasted delicious, especially the nectarine slices. The presentation, however, left a great deal to be desired. It was a slice of a large tart, served on a small plate. The edges were indistinct, fruit and cream slopping onto the plate. The crust edge was crumbled to bits. The crust had a nice crisp texture and wonderful buttery flavor.

Fresh fruit was such a nice ending that I wondered that more restaurants don't offer it. Our places were set with small plates, forks, and fruit knives. The waiter brought over a large white china bowl overflowing with beautiful, perfect fresh fruit. She identified the types of fruit and we could select whatever we wanted, which she placed on our plates with tongs. I had a slice of watermelon and a cluster of those flavorful green grapes.