Just Desserts
There are traditionalists who feel that you must eat your meal to warrant your dessert. These people are wrong. Very much like green eggs and ham, dessert can be enjoyed anytime, anywhere–in a house, with a mouse, in a box, with a fox, in a car, in a tree, in a train, in the rain, with a goat, and on a boat. If none of those locales or companions appeal to you, try one of these dessert destinations.
Country Cat
I generally avoid hero worship, but I will occasionally make exceptions where great humanitarians, Hugh Jackman, and chefs are involved. And when dessert time rolls around, Country Cat co-owner and Pastry Chef Jackie Sappington is on my A-list. You’ll understand when you taste her Ice Cream Sandwich trio–butter pecan ice cream sandwiched between two melt-in-your mouth pecan butter cookies, a bourbon cherry ice cream between two tender dark chocolate black forest cookies, and a scoop of Jackie’s silky chocolate ice cream bookended by two chewy, coconut-laced macaroons. As though that weren’t enough to send me outside to burn a bush on the sidewalk to alert passerby as to the ice cream goodness to be worshipped inside, these little sandwiches came with a small ramekin of housemade caramel sauce for dipping.
Cupcake Jones
Cupcake Jones has taken Portland by frosting with their dazzling cupcake couture–these moist little cakes are part sweet treat, part edible art. Frilly dabs of lemon and marshmallow buttercream frosting cradle fancy accoutrements like gleaming white chocolate pearls and glittery hand candied pink rose petals, and like any fashionista knows, what’s unseen matters too–thusly, these moist little cakes are filled with luxurious ganaches and pastry creams that easily make them worthy of $10,000 a day to cakewalk the runway. You’re in luck though, your own individually wrapped helping of Downtown Cupcake Brown, Chocolate Fluffernutter, Strawberry Lemonade, or Pearl cupcake vogue is only $1.50 for a mini, and $3.25 for the more-to-love size.
Paley’s Place
I can’t promise that it will be an easy feat to slip into Paley’s Place for an impromptu dessert, reservations are de rigueur and patrons linger at the tables long into the evening, but like your mother told you, you can always try. In a pinch, patiently wait your turn for the first come, first serve bar area, which is the perfect place to end an evening on the town with something sweet dreamed up by esteemed pastry chef Lauren Fortgang. Sip a glass of Sauternes with Paley’s golden dessert child–the burnished apple tarte tatin, which comes on a bed of flaky puff pastry and is accompanied by a smattering of candied almonds and a scoop of lavendar ice cream. Or opt for the warm chocolate souffle cake, hazelnut-grape financier, or cheesecake with blackberry compote. It makes the wait more than worthwhile.
Papa Haydn
Every time I pedal past Papa Haydn’s at night and see the glut of people hovering at the corner of NW 23rd & NW Irving, I nearly wreck my bike craning my neck to see what the disturbance is–doubtless someone’s gone stark raving mad from indecision, been struck immobile by sensory overload after viewing the cake case, a buttercream overdose, perhaps? It’s never any of the above, thankfully. I’m simply witnessing the line to get in the door of this ever-popular Portland dessert den. People come from miles around for the billowing Boccone Dolce–Swiss meringues layered with fresh fruit and chantilly cream, the rich Chocolate Hazelnut Torte–chocolate truffle cake, hazelnut-chocolate mousse and chocolate ganache, and the Raspberry Gateau–fallen chocolate souffle with fresh berries and red current glaze. The desserts are almost too pretty to eat, but you’ll manage.
Park Kitchen
Once I was sitting at the bar in Park Kitchen relishing a curried apple galette with yogurt sorbet and trying to decide what to order next–the vanilla cardamom crème brulee or the sticky date cake with sherry ice cream–when I befriended a girl whose boyfriend had recently dumped her for their Pilates instructor, who was as lithe and exotic-looking as Uma Thurman, very bendy, and fluent in French to boot. This made my new friend very sad, so she was drowning her sorrows with a significant pour of Scotch, a French-English dictionary, and Park Kitchen’s chocolate pear torte with pear brandy sabayon and crushed amaretti. I’m not going to make any outrageous claims, like this torte cured her broken heart or anything, but let’s suffice to say that after her second helping, she wasn’t trying to punch anyone who ordered the Chateauneuf-du-Pape anymore.
Pix Patisserie
My sharpest memories of my time in France, and there aren’t many thanks to the accessibility of good cheap champagne, are of the pastry cases in the patisseries. Regardless of whether I was in mighty Paris or sleepy little Bayeux, the pastry displays were works of art, rows of petit fours and macarons and pastries and tarts and cakes elaborately adorned with ganache, brulee, mousse, cream, praline, meringue, fresh fruit, and things I’d never seen before. Half my European photo album is devoted to snaps of rows upon rows of these stunning creations, glittering like the Crown jewels, but far tastier. The first time I walked into dreamy little Pix Patisserie, it was like my pictures had come to life right here in Portland, and I was rooted to the floor and struck mute as I stared in wonder. Rounds of chocolate almond cake with caramel mousse, cream puff-studded St. Honorés, and gingerbread mousse with cognac buttercream lined up next to bright yellow lemon tartlets and creme brulees and glittery gelees and truffles and chocolate-covered cherries and sunburst yellow passionfruit macarons. Even a born and bred Parisian might be shocked into silence at the splendor of it all, and that’s saying a lot.
Saint Cupcake
When I was a kindergarten teacher, I had to replace the class fish at least once a month due to the overenthusiastic “Fish Feeder” inadvertently dumping the entire container of food in the bowl, and the consequent fatal over-indulgence of the fish within. Everyone knows fish can’t stop eating when presented with irresistible deliciousness. That story sums up my relationship with Saint Cupcake, where their addictive creations come in palette of beautiful colors and match-made-in-heaven flavors–from traditional vanilla and chocolate with buttercream and cream cheese icings, to old favorites like carrot cake and red velvet, to five kinds of vegan cupcakes, to more exotic toasted coconut cream with vanilla toffee cake, and the legendary Fat Elvis—banana chocolate chip frosted with peanut butter chocolate chip icing. The only reason I haven’t been found belly up in the hot tub, dead as a doornail from CO (cupcake overdose), is because cupcakes cost money, and eventually one runs out of money at Saint Cupcake and has to waddle home.
The Sugar Cube
Once you get past the straightforward names (ie: Coffee and a Cookie, Beer.Cheese.Bacon), The Sugar Cube food cart owner and pastry chef extraordinaire Kir Jensen’s menu reads like something you’d find in a high-end restaurant, not surprising considering her dossier includes stints at Genoa, clarklewis, and the Ritz Carlton. The Coffee and a Cookie, for instance, is an inch or so of sinfully creamy coffee panna cotta in a squat Ball mason jar, topped by a soft dollop of whipped cream and whisper-delicate shavings of chocolate, and accompanied by a crisp gingersnap covered in a light crust of sugar that glitters like fresh snow after a big freeze ($6). The Beer.Cheese.Bacon–a small, round, and impossibly moist and rich Guinness and ginger stout cake topped by a scoop Fifty Licks Tahitian vanilla bean ice cream, praline bacon crunch, a light drizzle of bitter buckwheat honey, and snowy little shavings of white cheddar, rings in at a scant $7, and is served in a real glass jar on a delicate pink-flower lined china plate. In addition to the more elaborate desserts, Kir’s menu features an “Ultimate Brownie” topped with bittersweet chocolate ganache, fleur de sel, and a grassy green olive oil ($3.50), and hot drinkable deliciousness like the Hot Chocolate Malted ($5) with Ovaltine chocolate malt, whole milk, Venezuelan Maracaibo Creole milk chocolate, whipped cream and smoked Hawaiian salt, which you will want to pair with her cupcake of the week ($3-$3.50), whatever it is, because one of Kir’s magic sugarpowers is her ability to make unbelievably moist and flavorful cake, cake so good you cry a little bit when you eat it. And that’s what dessert is all about.
Two Tarts Bakery
I recently read an article in Monocle magazine about the allure of tiny things and humanity’s seemingly innate love of all things small and cute, like puppies and midget weddings. Perhaps this explains my obsession with Two Tarts, the Northwest bakery devoted entirely to producing small, SUPERcute cookies. Tucked into an upscale stripmall directly off NW Trendy-third Avenue, between a toy store and Laurelwood Public House, Two Tarts’ Elizabeth Beekley and Kir Jensen bake Lilliputian cappucino creams, pecan tessies, pistachio shortbreads, and dark chocolate chews under the auspice that “the simple satisfaction that comes from a jewel-sized treat is undeniably rich.” I’d have to agree, even though I once ate a whopping 14 Peanut Butter Creams (silver dollar sized peanut butter oatmeal cookies stuck together with peanut butter cream and drizzled with dark chocolate) in one sitting, and if you’ve experienced the richness of a Hazelnut Baci (buttery, crumbly half domed cookies sandwiched with chocolate ganache and rolled in crushed hazelnuts) you know there’s nothing more joyful than a bakers dozen of Two Tarts cookies, except maybe a midget wedding.
Wildwood
The last time I ate at Wildwood, a fight broke out at the table for possession of my chocolate orange sorbet, impossibly rich and with a texture almost like that of a frozen pot de crème. Fortunately, my spoon and I came out on top, with only a few nicks and a little pepper in my eye. (My family is vicious when dessert is involved.) I blame Pastry Chef Michelle Vernier, who creates astoundingly delicious creations like honeyed sopapillas with buzzing canyon honey, blackberries, and frozen horchata, buttermilk panna cotta with pink currants and fresh watermelon, warm huckleberry pie with caramel sauce and oatmeal praline, and ice creams that are out of this world. Her desserts are the Helen of Troys of the confectionary world–go ahead and order the baked butterscotch pudding with coconut-cashew congo bars, but be prepared to fight a tricksy and fierce battle when someone inevitably steals it from you.
