I very honestly do not quite grasp what it is about this place that has Portlanders all breathless to get a table. I will say straight off the bat: The team that works the place are all very nice. My partner and I had dinner there for my birthday last night, as we were visiting Portland on business, and it seemed to be the buzziest place in town. We are both from major cities, and we met in London, have lived for years in Manhattan, also in San Francisco and LA: We're not strangers to buzzy restaurants and how they work. To begin, the menu was extremely limited. Not much choice, but not in a good way. Obviously one does not expect pages and pages in a fine restaurant. The menu was in French. I am French. There were grammatical errors, and other questionable pretensions. We could not decide what we wanted as nothing at all seemed appetizing, so we settled on jumbo prawn cocktail to start, because how can you mess that up? Well--apparently, that can happen--by serving what tasted exactly like supermarket frozen shrimp, and calling them "Jumbo prawns," then concocting the most bizarre dipping sauce in the history of seafood: Some kind of mayonnaise with curry, and shed loads of cumin in it. Revolting. We asked for something else, and were brought what looked and tasted like jarred mayonnaise of the "Best Foods" variety, and some horseradish sauce, which I mixed together then added a little lemon: There was no salt cellar on the table or pepper grind, so that was all we could manage: The smell of the original sauce they had served was the same as a cheap Mexican restaurant. We sat looking at tails and smelling that atrocious sauce for far too long, but finally we asked for another round (there were only five tiny shrimp per order) and suggested that we be brought some catsup and horseradish along with some lemon: No dice. They "don't have catsup," because, as the waiter explained, they were a "hoity toity" (his word) place. Next step: There was virtually nothing on the main course menu other than steak frites that sounded remotely edible, so, not willing to settle for steak frites, because why, I got adventurous and ordered something called "Pigeon Gothique" (Roast squab) and my partner ordered steak Tartare. Huge mistakes, both. The squab was impossible to eat, and featured two giant claws staring up at you, and was absolutely drowned in A1 steak sauce, or something that tasted exactly like an overdose of vinegar in barbecue sauce, on an empty plate, with a puddle of yet more barbecue sauce: I got two bites out of it. It was tough. Just not edible. My partners "steak tartare" was so revolting she could not eat more than a mouthful. Then we got "L'addition," and found we had been charged for every single extra bit of mayonnaise, every squirt of horseradish, and as a finale, for me at the end, the waiter, who was very nice, came rushing over to bend over backwards to excuse the staff for forgetting the birthday desert my partner had arranged in advance, as a surprise. The entire experience just kept getting more surreal. We had a fun time trying to eat our impossible dinners, and joking with the waiter. My partner paid the bill without asking any questions, only because we had just had enough. We both love Portland to bits: We usually have great food in the City. This place, though, um, it needs some work, to put it kindly. read more