Now that I am actually writing the second edition of the book — to come out in October — I figured I’d occasionally share one of the new chapters. Beast should have been in there the first time around, but as time got tight I couldn’t find anybody who wanted to pay $28 for brunch with no options. Silly us!
This hasn’t been fact-checked and is based on a visit a few months ago. And I don’t care.
Beast
New/Classy/Weekend
They don’t care — in a good way
5245 NE 30th (NE/Alberta) ~ 503-841-6968 ~ beastpdx.com
Brunch seatings Sunday at 10 a.m. or Noon.
$28 includes coffee and juice (all major cards, no checks)
Beast just doesn’t care.
For one thing, they don’t care what you want to eat. It’s four courses, and you’ll find out what you’re getting when you get there. It’s on the little menu, right above “substitutions politely declined.”
They also celebrate meat, and serve lots of it. There’s a famous picture of the chef hugging a dead pig in a field. If that’s a problem for you, well, they don’t care. Plenty of places in town.
They’re expensive – as in $28 per person. See above.
Their chairs are uncomfortable, and are apparently well-known carryovers from another restaurant. They crank 70s rock. They make you sit with folks you don’t know. See above.
But they also “don’t care” in the way my friend John T means it. You don’t know John T, which is a shame, but when he gets all worked up about something he likes, be it John Irving’s writing or the Arkansas football team or Arlo Guthrie’s version of “The Gates of Eden,” he will pronounce that his current hero “doesn’t care!” As in, dude just hammers out the good stuff like he knows how, big Magic Style, and does … not … care what folks think.
That’s how they cook over at Beast. They don’t care.
Here’s the magic they threw at me and the Crew one time. We sat down, got a French press, and they laid out a brioche and baguette bread pudding with maple bourbon sauce, candied hazelnuts and glazed bacon. Right there, on that plate, was a breakfast not to be messed with. It was Course #1. Of 4.
Next up, the Hash: Duck confit, prosciutto, sweet potato, brussel sprout, rapini and market potato, with a poached farm egg and hollandaise. Don’t know what confit or rapini are? Me, neither. You won’t care.
They had us on our heels now, could have thrown anything at us. I eat like this in my dreams, I thought. They gave us a break with a selection from the Cheese Bar. I don’t remember what they were, because I think in all the excitement I ate my notes. But just think four or five cheeses that you’ve never heard of, come from all over, are several different kinds of amazing, and come with some greens and a sherry vinaigrette.
Did I mention that there’s a wine pairing available for every course? That’s right, imagine eating this way and drinking.
For closers, what do you think about a chocolate truffle cake and a cream puff with soft vanilla whipped cream? I’m still thinking about it. Consider it a nice, sweet kiss after a … um, no, can’t say that here. The staff at Beast sure is hot, though. Did I mention that? Adds a certain something.
I guess the chef was involved in some weird restaurant drama that I probably should know about. Changed the restaurant scene, blew the foodies’ minds, fell from the throne, relationship ended, rose from the ashes … honestly, I don’t care. Beast almost killed me, and I thank them for it. Go there if you dare.
Either way, they don’t care.
Wait: Not if you make a reservation. Seating: 30 at two communal tables. Large groups: With notice. Coffee: In a French press. Other drinks: Mimosas, wine pairings with each course ($20), juice. Feel-goods: None that they tout. Health options: Vegetarians beware! WiFi? No.
