Daddy Mojo’s Restaurant & Lounge
1501 NE Fremont
Portland, Oregon
503-282-0956
Those homemade buns are sturdy enough to hold a thick half pound burger, but soft and yielding so the patty doesn’t squeeze out the back side. I stopped by mid-week for lunch and got a big mound of shredded barbecued pork, Cajun style dirty rice, and cole slaw for about five bucks. Order the Friday night shrimp boil dinner special, and the server spreads a few sheets of newspaper on the table, then empties a wire colander full of pink boiled shrimp onto it.
Catfish nuggets are just bite sized pieces of fish, rolled in cornmeal and fried crispy. Not too complicated, but so good you wonder why more places don’t make them. I can’t decide if I like Daddy Mojo’s meat loaf more on plate in a pool of gravy or as a sandwich tucked into that same homemade bun.
Hush puppies supposedly got their name when a good ol’ boy tossed his hounds a scrap of fried cornmeal catfish breading to keep them quiet. I can’t vouch for their effect on dogs, but the hot, perfectly fried little spheres of cornmeal,crunchy on the outside, soft inside, and without a trace of grease, will keep me from making a sound. Mojo’s hush puppies, come with ketchup, but they cry out for a few splashes of Crystal hot sauce, the low rent alternative to Tabasco that you find in juke joints and fish shacks from Memphis to Mobile.
There’s definitely a Gulf Coast tilt to Daddy Mojo’s offerings, but the place is less bayou bistro and more neighborhood cafe leaning southward. Breakfast choices include Dixie specials such as biscuits covered with a sausage-rich country gravy, buttermilk pancakes studded with pecans, grits flavored with bacon and topped with cheese, and the roadhouse classic chicken fried steak. But you’ll also find eggs Benedict, an artichoke heart, mushrooms, and Swiss cheese omelet, and pancakes made with Oregon blueberries.
More Delta flavors show up later in the day in the blackened steak , Thursday night jambalaya, and okra thickened gumbo. The menu expands its geographic reach with Caesar salad, fish and chips , and fettucini alfredo.
The garlic pepper steak, an eight ounce top sirloin with a thick coat of crushed peppercorns and rich garlic cream sauce, was well marbled and tender. Served with a massive baked potato, simple steamed vegetables, an ordinary but fresh green salad, and the fried bread called Texas toast, it’s as good a $14.95 steak dinner as you'll find anywhere. Finish up with a slice of the wickedly rich chocolate caramel cheesecake, and you’ll leave fat and happy.
Recently the restaurant expanded, adding a small bar. Oregon’s liquor laws prevent the cocktails to go that make New Orleans such a party town, but it’s nice to have the option of a drink with dinner.
At these prices, don’t expect to see too much ingredient pedigree on the menu. Local and seasonal foodstuffs provide societal benefits and are undoubtedly more fresh, but the market reality for a moderately priced cafe like this favors a refrigerated semi coming up I-5 over an organic grower on Sauvie Island. Still, Daddy Mojo’s earns props for making everyday ingredients into food you’ll come back for. This place doesn't pretend to be anything but what it is, a decent restaurant that offers honest food. Sometimes that's just what you want.
The old storefront on the corner of NE 15th and Fremont doesn’t have much curb appeal compared to the rest of the rapidly gentrifying neighborhood. The exterior hasn’t changed much in the 20 years I’ve lived here, and the former minimarket space was refitted as a restaurant by a previous tenant with questionable taste. Daddy Mojo's inherited furniture and lighting that won't win any awards for interior design. The building retains a few original features, including a row of windows with a wood sash that fill the high-ceilinged room with light and the 1920s-era hexagonal tile in one of the doorways that spells out Fremont Pharmacy, a long forgotten business. Small aesthetic improvements, like a coat of paint or new carpet, appear every couple of weeks. The space is comfortable and straightforward, but there’s no mistaking that you’re here for food, not ambiance.
In a more perfect world, my little neighborhood cafe would make a few changes. It could offer an alternative to the Texas toast, a no-brainer in this bread-crazy town (in the meantime, ask for one of the homemade buns instead). The hot seafood salad might have a little more seafood. And taking that Southern theme a step farther with an oyster po’boy or New Orleans style muffaletta would be great. But for now I’ll be happy with another order of hush puppies, maybe a slab of that meat loaf, and a short walk home.