Le Pigeon

Gabriel Rucker is a 26-year-old chef with a flight of pigeons tattooed on his forearm and a roguish grin that says there's a bit of zaniness behind his spiky concentration. He calls the packed restaurant where he cooks "The Dirty Bird" or "The Pidge" instead of Le Pigeon, its proper name, and he looks a bit like a raffish gangster, 1950s Parisian style -- Jean-Paul Belmondo of "Breathless." He's never been to cooking school and dropped out of junior college. He says he taught himself to cook because nothing in his life is so important as amazing his customers with the unexpected -- though "girls and beer come a close second and third." --The Oregonian, June 15, 2007


PORTLAND, OREGON Ever since Le Pigeon, a storefront restaurant on a grungy section of East Burnside, opened last June, it has been causing a stir. There's the bold young chef, 25-year-old Gabriel Rucker, whose local pedigree includes stints at Paley's Place and Gotham Building Tavern. And there's the bold menu, with its predilection for organ meats. While Rucker displays a fascination with nose-to-tail eating, he brings you in slowly. Not quite ready for a starter of warm pig's head au torchon with mustard cream? Go with the tartlet of baked Brie with garlic confit or beef cheeks so tender that a good hard stare would cause them to fall apart. And then there's dessert: apricot-bacon cornbread with maple ice cream and warm bacon bits. (738 East Burnside Street; 503-546-8796) --Bon Appétit, February 2007

I'd been wanting to go to Le Pigeon for quite a while now; even though a couple of my friends who had been there poo-pooed it, I was not deterred. In addition to the media references above (which are a very small sample, I assure you), Food and Wine Magazine named Gabriel Rucker among the top 10 of America's best new chefs this year. With all that hype, I needed to experience it for myself.

Well, last night I finally did. And it's worth all the hype.

My friend Alex and I went there last night. We figured 8:00 pm on a Wednesday night wouldn't be too busy. We were wrong. Prospective diners lined the sidewalk outside the restaurant. The space was smaller than I expected too: four large communal tables filled the room, and a bar with additional seating surrounding the open kitchen completed the view. We put our name on the list, and the host informed us that the wait would be around an hour. O.K. A hike up Burnside and then up 4 flights of stairs ensued; drinks at Rocket would pass the time.

Drinks down the hatch, 45 minutes have passed, we trudge back down Burnside and check in again at Le Pigeon. The place is still just as packed, but fewer people are waiting outside. The host sees us again, checks our status, and says that they're still not ready, but will be soon. In the meantime, would we care to peruse their wine list? Yes, we would. We give it a cursory glance, but then start talking and forget all about it. Ten or 15 more minutes pass, the host comes back out, and says that as we have been so patient, he will buy us each a glass of wine. Free wine? Yay! We select an Austrian red, Zweigelt Schloss Gobelsberger 2004 from the Langenlois region, to be exact. (I have no idea--I'm not a wine connoisseur. All I know is that it tasted good, and had a slightly herbal smell which seems somewhat unusual.)

Finally, sometime between 9:30 and 10:00, we are seated, but discover that Oysters Ruckefeller, the starter we were planning on, is out. Well what does the server suggest then? Hot and Cold Scallop, Cucumber, Avocado Gazpacho or Foie Gras PB&J. He goes into great detail describing the dishes and their preparation: the scallops in the Gazpacho are prepared in two ways, hence the hot and cold: one side of the scallop is cured in lemon juice like ceviche, the other side is pan fried. The Foie Gras PB&J doesn't actually have any peanut butter but it does have crushed peanuts sprinkled around it.

We decide to go for the Foie Gras PB&J. This was my first experience with the controversial substance. Oh my gosh it was delicious. It consisted of foie gras and apple jam sandwiched in between two slices of Franz white bread (not joking), and then fried and topped with some whipped foie gras. Foie gras is good stuff; it's like butter only much more interesting. The dish in its entirety combined elements of junkfood and fine cuisine in the best, most luxurious, possible way.

On to the main course. I ordered the Beef Cheek Bourguignon (see Bon Appetit's comment above). Tender is the key word. Also involved were little discs of carrots tender, but not mushy, and potatoes that managed to retain their toasty goodness without getting overwhelmed by the sauce. The onions were soft, perfectly carmelized, and without any trace of oniony-harshness whatsoever.

Alex ordered the Monkfish, Beeflip, Blossom tempura. I only had a taste of the monkfish and beeflip, but not the squash blossom. Alex will have to leave a comment for further detail. But here's what I got out of it: the beef lip was shredded and smoky, very rich. The monkfish was light and delicate, and not at all fishy. Good contrast.

Dessert. We split a plate of the apricot cornbread with maple ice cream and bacon. Sound weird? Yup. But it was delicious. I heard once that in order for food to be at its most satisfying, it must combine sweet, salty, and fatty flavors. This dessert encompassed all of that. The cornbread used a particularly coarse grind of meal, and was all the better for it. The bacon, wonderfully salty and greasy, was diced and sprinkled around the cornbread. Finally, a scoop of maple ice cream was plopped on top of it all, balancing everything out. We washed all of this down with a french press of Stumptown coffee ["of course" said the waiter].

How was the staff? Excellent. First, the attention of the host and his bestowing upon us of free wine. I was happy already. And then we met our server. He was funny, but in a good way. He was attentive but not pushy, explained all the dishes to us in great but not overwhelming detail, and (here comes the funny part) when he would come around to ask us how the food was, if our responses were not swoony and enthusiastic enough, he looked sad. So we didn't want to disappoint him by not acting excited enough. We were excited, we're just not the most emotive of people. Obviously, he took pride in what he was serving, and wanted his customers to enjoy the food. Did we see the chef? Yes, although I wasn't sure at the time. Looking at his photo on the internet today, I realized that he was the guy sitting at the bar having a drink as we were leaving. I love that.

So, I highly recommend Le Pigeon. The dishes might sound weird, but trust the chef. He obviously knows what he's doing.

Le Pigeon

738 East Burnside

Portland, OR 97214

503.546.8796

http://www.lepigeon.com/