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		John Street Cafe 8338 N Lombard, Portland, Oregon (503) 247-1066 Open 7-2:30, Wednesday-Sunday, breakfast and lunch (Sunday breakfast only)

		Henny Youngman should’ve lived in St. Johns. The neighborhood can’t get no respect, either. For decades it took Portland’s garbage at the now-closed landfill; the city’s sewage still ends up here, at the wastewater treatment plant on Columbia Boulevard. Except for Cathedral Park under the St. Johns bridge and remote Kelley Point Park at the Willamette’s confluence with the Columbia, the riverbank through the neighborhood is a poster child for riparian neglect, with the Port’s acres of asphalt and abandoned industrial sites polluted with toxic wastes. Despite the efforts of local boosters and the arrival of Starbucks, “downtown” St. Johns looks more like a community stranded in the past than the rest of Portland’s rapidly gentrifying neighborhoods. While still-affordable real estate is beginning to draw younger families and other first-time homeowners, the area has yet to gain the cachet of neighborhoods like Sellwood or Multnomah, places with similar histories but the advantage of geographic proximity to the city center. But there is a reason to venture out to North Portland. Tucked among the used car lots, thrift shops, and vacant storefronts, the John Street Cafe serves food worth making the trip. Jamie and Marie Noehern, original owners of the Tabor Hill Cafe on Hawthorne, offer the best breakfast and lunch available on the peninsula since the little town was founded by James John in 1865. If you’re spending a cold, wet day outside, a steaming bowl of oatmeal topped with fresh fruit might be the way to get started. The straightforward buttermilk pancakes are good, but even better is a version laced with filberts and currants, barely crisped around the edges and so big it flops off the plate. Corned beef hash combines big chunks of shredded meat — not the finely ground mush that comes from a can — with julienned spuds and sweet red pepper; a pair of poached eggs sit on top. If you like big, stuffed omelettes, you can name your own fillings. Lunch provides even more possibilities. One-third of pound of ground chuck is hand-formed into a great burger, even better when you ignore the warnings of the food police and order it medium-rare and topped with melted cheese. Served with lettuce, tomato, and grilled red onions, this is one of those juicy burgers that, once in hand, can’t go back on the plate without falling apart. Other sandwich options include marinated chicken breast, a classic Reuben, and a B.L.T enhanced with sliced turkey breast, avocado, and cream cheese and renamed the T.A.B. Judging from the mounded platters of pasta that appear on nearly every table, the folks in St. Johns believe that there’s more to lunch than the sandwich. Fettucine comes with chicken, mushrooms, basil, walnuts, and blue cheese, while thinner linguine is tossed with artichokes hearts, chicken breast, black olives, capers and white wine. Black beans, zucchini, yellow summer squash, and black olives are blended into a garlicky tomato sauce and served over farfalle (bow tie-shaped pasta). With the astringent flavor of cilantro, it’s not exactly Italian but it does taste good. A recent pasta special took advantage of the fall rains by combining fresh chanterelle mushrooms with tender breast meat and house-dried apricots in a rosemary-spiked wine sauce over fettucine. The earthy funghi, tart-sweet fruit, and perfumy herb were an unexpected mingling of flavors but blended together nicely. Greens aren’t neglected, either. The garden bowl tosses together leafy greens with tomato, sweet peppers, cucumber, mushrooms, and black olives. An entire blackened snapper filet atop Romaine lettuce, and jasmine rice makes a substantial meal, and salad specials might include sweet rock shrimp, black beans, or fresh corn cut from the cob. The space is bright and open, minimally decorated with a couple of very nice paintings and an ornate old mirror. It’s a comfortable place to linger over the paper, and even if there are people waiting, the staff won’t hurry you. From the good-natured banter between customers and servers, it’s clear that many of the patrons are regulars, people who live or work in the neighborhood. These are the people who say hello over a beer at the local tavern, catch up on what the kids are doing when they run into each other at the supermarket, compare notes on home improvement projects at the hardware store. While the rest of Portland may not give St. Johns much credit, these folks are satisfied for the moment. They have a good place to eat.
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