It’s Last Thursday on Alberta, the scruffy, slightly anarchic response to NW’s First Thursday, what many believe has become an overpolished Pearl District spend-a-thon, more about money than art. When the weather’s good the street is so crowded it’s hard to move, much less get more than a jostled glance at the offerings of the artists and vendors squeezed along the sidewalk.
Ciao Vito
2203 NE Alberta Street
Portland, Oregon
503-282-5522
reviewed November 2005
Vito Dillulo watches it all from Ciao Vito’s open kitchen and smiles. He lives just a few blocks away, and he’s watched Alberta’s transformation take shape. “I always wanted to work where I live,” he says, and on a night like this, work is about he does. The same market forces driving the action outside are bringing in hungry patrons, and on some Last Thursdays they’re still waiting for a table at 10 pm.
But Ciao Vito is busy most nights, art walk or no. Regulars from the surrounding neighborhood vie for tables with people who haven’t ventured into this part of town for years. The word is out: the food is good.
“The menu,” Dillulo says, “is farm-driven.” Like most Portland chefs, he relies on the region’s growing network of provenders to bring him whatever’s good that week. But even though Ciao Vito’s only been open for about 18 months, there are already a few items indelibly etched on the menu.
The platter of fried razor clams is one of them. No other bivalve provides quite the same sweet and salty clammy essence, but it’s easy to overcook them. Ciao Vito’s razors, from Quinalt Bay, are properly chewy without the rubbery toughness of the oceanside clam-on-a-stick. You get four, a generous portion, and the hot pepper jam evokes Thai chile sauce, a nice counterpoint to the crispy breading. The salad piled alongside will change the seasons, but as summer slipped away it was a basil-spiked slaw with shredded cabbage, sweet peppers, and cherry tomatoes.
Slowly simmered pork shoulder falls apart in the sugo, another menu perennial. Porcini mushrooms add depth, and the tomato sauce has enough red pepper for a mellow, satisfying burn. It’s ladled over triangles of polenta, grilled crispy on the outside but still soft within. And the regulars protest if there’s no ragu alla Bolognese. This rich sauce, flavored with aromatic vegetables, pancetta, ground pork, and ground beef, is one reason Bologna got the nickname “Il Grasso,” the fat one. It’s served over penne with a dusting of Parmigiano Reggiano and demonstrates why Italians are content eating the same dish every week.
Ciao Vito, despite the name and a menu sprinkled with proscuitto, polenta, and spaghetti, isn’t so much an Italian restaurant as it is one that leans on an Italian approach to food. That means an emphasis on ingredients and preparation that makes them shine. You won’t find duck confit in a Tuscan trattoria, but a Tuscan would appreciate the tender legs with a crispy crust, served with beans and potatoes (maybe not the blueberry sauce, but this isn’t Italian).
That said, there are other Italian classics besides the ragu. Spaghetti agli’ olio is the quintessential Roman fast food. Boil water, cook pasta, and toss with garlic and extra virgin olive oil. Southerners like things a little spicy, so add a few shakes of red pepper. Toasted bread crumbs acknowledge the dish’s origins in cucina poverino; they were often used both to stretch a loaf of stale bread and as a substitute for expensive cheese.
Melanzane alla Parmigiana is a throwback to Dillulo’s Italo-American roots, and a very tasty one. The savvy diner will save half and eat it cold the next day in an eggplant parm sandwich. That won’t be as easy with the grilled skirt steak. Sliced across the grain and paired with sautéed sweet peppers, the humble cut has more flavor than it’s well-marbled betters. It’s hard to put down your fork, and before you know it, the steak is gone.
The wine list combines plenty of Italian vintages with such well-known local favorites as Cameron and J. Christopher. There are also more obscure regional labels, including southern Oregon’s Solena and Soos Creek from the Columbia Valley, and the flat rate $17 mark up for most bottles lets you drink well without spending a fortune.
Like the rest of the street, Ciao Vito has been dressed up. It’s hard to believe it’s the same space that once housed a slacker greasy spoon. About all that’s left of that former life is the Tom Cramer mural on the wall outside. Dark beadboard wainscoting gives the dining room a slightly old-fashioned feel, and heavy crushed velvet corduroy drapes both define smaller alcoves and keep the volume down.
The kitchen occupies the center ground between the dining room and bar, and diners can check out the plates coming off the line as they walk by. There’s usually a savory tart or baked dessert sitting out on the counter to tempt the appetite, and it works. The big farm table right in front is a great place for watching the action, both behind the grill and in the street. The dining room offers more intimacy, the bar side is a little more rambunctious, and all in all it’s a warm, comfortable space.
Alberta and Ciao Vito are products of the move back to neighborhood life, not really a new trend here in Portland, but one that’s picked up more momentum in the past few years. Those arguing about gentrification, developers looking for a quick buck, or just change in general may never agree on how to do it right. But one irrefutable truth stands out: it makes for great restaurants.