ACADIA Bistro
1303 NE Fremont Street,
Portland
Phone: 503-249-5001
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Dinner:
Monday through Saturday
5:00 pm – 10:00 pm
Lunch:
Wednesdays Only
11:30 am – 2:30 pm
Sunday Dinner:
4:00 pm – 9:00 pm
Full Bar Available
Southern time, and the livin' is easy
BOB HICKS
The Oregonian
May 26, 2006
Two scenes from Acadia, the petite New Orleans-style restaurant located, in an act of fortuitous geographical displacement, along Portland's Northeast Fremont Street.
On a stolen Wednesday noon, the mood's slow and easy. It's an almost-secret time, the only day of the week that Acadia serves lunch, and a casual scatter of neighbors and out-and-abouters is holding down tables in the sun.
In the shadows a woman in capri pants sits comfortably alone with her magazine and her thoughts and her drink. A wine distributor's list sits dog-eared and open on the bar, which is elbow-buffed and chicory brown.
A man sipping slowly from a tall iced tea breathes in deeply and happily as a soft-shell crab po' boy slides under his nose. To its side is a small bowl of richly satisfying red beans and rice. On the fat white-loaf sandwich is a spicy snap of jalapeno tartar sauce and that delicate flash-fried crustacean.
Crunch. Life is good.
On a Thursday night the same place is packed to the gills, a swirl of hustling servers and mingled odors and the babble and laughter of a dozen little parties going on all at once.
A man, only possibly two Sazeracs to the wind, smiles gregariously and gestures toward an almost-devoured concoction of yellow cake, lemon sauce, whipped cream and something indescribably slithery that, taken together, is called Paula's Gooey Butter Cake. "I can say without fear of contradiction that that is the best dessert I have ever had. Bar none," he says, a little thickly.
At the next table a gigantic double-cut pork chop arrives, a Brobdingnagian chunk of meat, a trencherman's share. Yet size is not its distinction. Inside, the meat is blush-pink. Outside, it carries a sweet brush of rye whiskey and cane syrup. In the mouth it is tender and lightly balanced, a dance of sweet and savory, and all you really want to do is take another bite.
Oh, yes. Life is good.
Southern cooking is on the rise in Portland, from modest barbecue houses and down-home spots such as Yam Yam's and Hannah Bea's to broader-based places like Bernie's Southern Bistro (great fried green tomatoes and buttermilk fried chicken) to small but satisfying cafes like Lagniappe to luxe operations like Roux, with its clubby comfort and pert crawfish pie.
It's partly fashion, no doubt. But more significantly it's a recognition that the South in general, Louisiana in particular, is home to a collection of distinctive and appealing American cuisines. And Acadia, with its smartly upscale cafe atmosphere and its smooth blend of Creole and Cajun traditions, has quietly turned into a leader of the pack.
When it opened in 2001 Acadia was warm and promising but a little tentative in the kitchen. Chef Adam Higgs and his wife, Sarah, bought it a couple of years ago, and since then the place has grown in confidence, maybe even gaining a little swagger. While the eyes of food fashion swung to flashier sights, it emerged as one of the city's most pleasant places to dine.
On the whole, heat for the sake of heat isn't the point here, although Acadia's jambalaya, served over pasta with a mix of shrimp, duck, tasso and andouille, is of the more rustic and fiery Cajun persuasion than the subtler, sweeter Creole style. The difference is a matter of taste, and I prefer the more citified Creole. Gumbo, on the other hand, is deep and dark and beautifully melded, thickened with okra and rich with shellfish and sausage.
A few things are more reliable than memorable: oysters en brochette, for example, and soft-textured, buttery head-on Louisiana Gulf barbecued shrimp. Others are notable for their rarity in these parts: Lately the Higgses have been serving snapping-turtle soup, the mild minced meat served in a deep roux with a garnish of hard-cooked egg and a tableside splash of sherry to roil the flavors.
That elusive New Orleans balancing act of subtlety and gusto comes through in the likes of a snappy shrimp Creole and what the house calls Taste of New Orleans, a combo platter of soft-shell crab and crawfish etouffee, that Louisiana-signature smother of roux, onions, celery, bell pepper and other mysterious things. Shrimp Acadian -- plump red shrimp stuffed and perched atop fried eggplant -- and drumfish laced with hollandaise and almonds further the commitment to big layers of flavor.
Like New Orleans itself, Acadia works hard to uphold the pleasure principle. This applies to wine and beer and to the cocktails, some sweet but a blessed number of which do not fall prey to the vogue for booze-spiked liquid candy. You can get a good spicy martini, for instance, and the St. Charles is a manly blend of rosemary- and pepper-infused vodka with grapefruit juice.
The tab can sneak up while you're having all this fun, but Acadia also makes it easy to enjoy yourself on modest means. Lunch is a bargain. A three-course dinner is available for $25 Tuesdays through Saturdays (early and late seatings only on Fridays and Saturdays). And Monday is bargain night, with an expansive choice of $9.95 specials in addition to the regular menu.
Life is good.
