So I’ve talked a lot about how good Portland is at street food and sandwiches, but here’s another thing that makes this city amazing. On a recent Wednesday evening, I walked into Portland’s best-reviewed, most-hyped restaurant—Le Pigeon—sans reservations, looking like my normal grubby, travelling-for-weeks, t-shirt and jeans self…and asked if I could get a meal. Not only did they seat me immediately at the small bar space overlooking the open kitchen, but they didn’t seem to be the slightest bit put out by it. This may be the New Yorker in me—just assuming that I’m going to be treated snobbishly everywhere—but it’s so great when you go to a restaurant that could get away with being jerks, but aren’t.
OK, on to the food. I started with the smoked rabbit pie and hot mustard ice cream because…well, because I have a crazy addiction, and that dish sounded downright batty. But Le Pigeon had my number on this one. I asked for crazy, and I got even crazier. When the server returned with my dish, she set the rabbit pie and savory ice cream down in front of me, and casually mentioned that the artfully presented sauce-like substance spread across the side of the plate was in fact a remoulade of rabbit heart. Well done. Love how she just threw that in at the end there…oh yeah, and there’s some rabbit heart on your plate.
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