Compared with cities like New York and Los Angeles, Portland, Oregon, is relatively small—which only makes its sheer density of destination-worthy restaurants more impressive. Where else can you find a spot for Russian comfort food, a fabulous Thai tasting menu behind a secret door in another restaurant, and pizza made with freshly milled local flour, all in the span of a few miles? There are so many renowned places to eat, including breweries and fine-dining establishments, that even locals have trouble deciding where to sit down for their next meal.

Since you can’t try them all without picking up and moving to the City of Roses (which, honestly, you wouldn’t be crazy for considering!), we’ve turned to a few experts to point out some tried-and-true neighborhood gems.

Best Late-Night Eats
Seems like the entire city of Portland turns into a pumpkin around 11:45 p.m….with the exception of these inviting late-night options.

I would say you can’t leave San Francisco without eating the chicken from Zuni Café. I love walking in, with all the exposed brick and big windows, where you can see chickens roasting in the fire. The chicken takes about 90 minutes to come out, so you have to be patient. But then the bird arrives looking so beautiful, with a bread and pine nut salad accompanying it. The dish is just delicious, and reminds me of my mother’s chicken—I’m from France, born and raised in Versailles. We polled seven knowledgeable chefs—Carlo Lamagna of brand-new Filipino destination Magna; Sam Smith of upscale Middle Eastern restaurant Tusk; Bonnie Morales, the chef-owner of Russian restaurants Kachka and Kachinka; Nong Poonsukwattana of Nong’s Khao Man Gai; Katy Millard of celebrated French restaurant Coquine; Maya Lovelace of Southern restaurants Mae and Yonder; and Earl Ninsom of beloved Thai hot spots Langbaan, Hat Yai, PaaDee, and new Thai/American barbecue mash-up Eem—to learn their favorite places to eat and drink in Portland.

In San Francisco, there are a lot of great restaurants, and a lot of new up-and-coming restaurants. But there are also a lot of restaurants that have been here a long time, and have just become iconic, like Zuni. These restaurants have made the San Francisco culinary scene what it is today, and for me it’s important to embrace and celebrate them.

Being an East Coaster, the reason that I ended up in California was the produce, more than anything else. I think one of the better models for farmers markets out there is the Ferry Building Farmers Market. The Saturday market is the best one, but there’s intermittently ones on Tuesdays and Thursdays that are also good, if you were visiting San Francisco during the week.

You can go there and try all the different seasonal produce. There’s a number of cheesemakers, bakers, chocolatiers, and other various artisans. And then there’s a lot of pop-up restaurants there, too. It’s a good way to get a really good sampling of what’s new in San Francisco. It’s the one place that I would say visitors should not miss!

CDP is the sister bar to Commis, the only Michelin-starred restaurant in Oakland. I love it for special occasions; my partner and I just went there recently for our wedding anniversary.

CDP is a fancy cocktail bar that manages to still feel fun and super chill. The bartenders are really knowledgeable, and the cocktails are so interesting. The food is also spectacular.

If you’re coming to San Francisco, go to The Buena Vista in Fisherman’s Wharf and order the Irish coffee. Go during a rainy, foggy, cold San Francisco winter day and sit at the long, dark wood bar, with the bartenders in white jackets. It’s just a perfect place to end your trip. I’m sure you can find better whiskey somewhere else, and better coffee, but it’s classic—they’ve been serving it since the 1950s. They use their own whiskey brand, they shake the beautiful cream by hand, and they add in square lumps of sugar to sweeten the whole thing. Typically, I have three of them in a sitting.

You’re getting creative beverage pairings, creative food, and because Chef Lee is Korean, the food is inflected in that way. One of his signature dishes is a faux shark fin soup, which has no actual shark fin in it, of course. I consider the broth in the faux shark fin soup at Benu to be the best broth I’ve ever had, with Shaoxing wine, Dungeness crab, and clear noodles that are both soft and almost crunchy at the same time.
It takes me out of French fine dining or Italian fine dining or anything like what I do on a daily basis. Chef Lee uses ingredients and methods that are entirely unfamiliar to me, and so I appreciate that, because it feels like a really special experience.

Can’t Miss Bites
Take the cable car to drink Irish coffees in a bar untouched by time, wander through one of the world’s best farmers markets, and dig into the platonic ideal of roast chicken. You can’t leave San Francisco without making these stops.

Clearly, there’s nothing tired about the San Francisco classics, but if you’re looking for something new, you can find fantastic, of-the-moment tasting menus, too. Here are the spots where you should treat yourself.
Chez Panisse, especially the café upstairs, has never failed me. I love how cozy and casual the decor is. I’ve never really been to France, but when I’m there, it feels like I’m in France, so I start out with a glass of Champagne. I love the roasted pork loin with polenta, cauliflower romesco, currants, pine nuts, and black olives.

Whatever they have, it’s always seasonal and you can’t go wrong, like the perfect tomato salad. And then there’s the fruit—when the evening ends, sometimes they just bring you a pear and a knife, and you know it’s going to be the best pear you will ever have. Or they’ll hand you a date, or a cute little wooden basket with a tangerine or something, and you don’t really want to peel this thing. But then you do, and you eat it, and it tastes like they’ve injected it with syrup or something because it’s so amazing. It’s like the best fruit just goes to their restaurant, and no one else can get it.

The one thing that is consistently on the menu that I always get is the slow-poached egg yolk. It has a brothy allium base, with just about everything in the onion family, in all of these different forms. And then there’s an egg yolk floating on top. The dish is super savory, but the onions are also really sweet, so the dish is almost like a savory dessert with a silky egg yolk. And then there are little crunchies on top that I think are some sort of onion. Yeah, that little bite is just really delicious, comforting, and very luxurious.
We have so many really good three Michelin star–type restaurants in San Francisco, but I think one of the best is definitely Benu in the SoMa district, downtown. You walk in and it has a really cool and clean vibe with lots of earth tones and a really modern feel.

I’m always looking for attention to detail, and a unique and consistent vision, and that’s super evident there. The food, the way it’s served, the service, the wine list; a common thread of excellence runs through the whole experience. They serve a tasting menu focusing on seafood and vegetables, and chef Corey Lee has this ability to distill flavors into the most compact bites.

When I go out to drink cocktails, it’s at Trick Dog, a really cool place in the Mission with fun people. The decor is dark and minimal, almost like an old saloon, and it’s very tiny. If you want to sit and have a long conversation over a drink, then you better get there as soon as it opens, because the later it becomes, the more fans come pouring through the doors.

They change the menu all the time—every six months or so—so I don’t have a particular drink to recommend. But there’s always a well-manicured cocktail available, like the collaboration I did with them last year, a sherry and tea-smoked maitake mushroom–inspired cocktail. You can ask anybody: Trick Dog has the best bartenders; they really know what they’re doing. It has great plates, too—chicken wings, curried noodles, salad—so you can also get a late-night bite from the bar.

Grab a handy red plastic tray, and dive headfirst into the freezer to actualize your dumpling dreams with pork and green chive, lamb and Napa cabbage, or beef and daikon dumplings, never frostbitten or brittle. Cooking yields tender, juicy dumplings with a bit of chew. The Shanghai soup dumplings are a permanent fixture in my freezer, reserved for blustery SF evenings. Wontons, shrimp-and-chive pancakes, and pork buns, perfect for a dim sum party, round out the shop’s frozen offerings. The Ferry Building Farmers Market is the best-known market of the bunch, serving as the living blueprint for the Bay Area’s love of all things organic, local, and seasonal. (Disclosure: I’m on the board of CUESA, the organization that runs the market.) But I also have a soft spot for the independently owned and farmer-run Heart of the City Farmers Market at Civic Center/United Nations Plaza, which has only a handful of paid employees. In operation since 1981, the market transforms a hardscrabble public plaza into a vibrant outdoor market, frequented by award-winning chefs and casual shoppers alike every Wednesday and Sunday.

I won’t wax lyrical about how utterly amazing California produce is, but honestly, San Franciscans are incredibly spoiled—especially by the sheer number of year-round farmers markets operating in the city (20!). Most locals are loyal to the farmers market in their ‘hood; it’s a good place to catch up with a neighbor, or pick up precious items you can’t find at the grocery store (think Emerald Beaut green pluots or pastured duck eggs). Small farmers from the strawberry-laden fields of Watsonville to the almond orchards of Modesto lug their fresh wares to the city each and every day of the week except Mondays.

I typically take a lunchtime jaunt to the market, where I’m greeted by beautiful bunches of ruby-red chard; dark, leafy dinosaur kale; rainbow carrots with fluffy tops; and knobby squashes that are taller than my pint-sized godson. My favorite part of San Francisco farmers markets? Every market accepts CalFresh EBT (Electronic Benefit Transfer) cards, formerly known as food stamps, ensuring fresh, healthy fruits and vegetables for more San Franciscans.

I was first introduced to Isabel Caudillo one sunny Saturday via a plate of chilaquiles. I was at her popular stand at the Noe Valley farmers market, and one bite of the crunchy deep-fried tortillas enrobed in salsa verde, accompanied by a tiny mountain of cheese and a perfectly runny fried egg, made me rethink every bowl of cold cereal I’d ever had for breakfast.

It took almost a decade—one spent juggling large catering orders, a dedicated market stand, and frequent pop-ups, all while raising three sons—but in 2016, Isabel finally opened her own brick-and-mortar restaurant, at Kingston Street and Mission. As is true for many local entrepreneurs, Isabel’s journey started in her tiny home kitchen, from which she served up lunch plates of her signature dish, guisado—a hearty Mexican stew or braise, depending on the day—for $8 a pop. Now, at her light-filled restaurant and open kitchen, Isabel’s sacrifices and hard work have paid off, and it shows.

Yummy Dumpling is a cherished frozen-dumpling depot, and a weeknight savior for busy home cooks. Located in The Avenues, the family-owned business is enticing enough to convince any local or intrepid food lover to cross the Bay Bridge. I love its ethos of “simple outside, rich inside,” which punnily describes both the food and the location. Upon entry to a plain beige storefront, you’ll usually find three to four hairnetted women delicately rolling, filling, and wrapping thousands of dumplings by hand. There’s no seating or dining-in option; just concerted dumpling-making and a friendly counter-person with a price list and home-cooking instructions at the ready. (Steaming is best.)

Prices range from about $5 to $9 for a bag of 20 dumplings, depending on the size and variety. Please do not confuse the shop for a restaurant: If you’re looking to enjoy these dumplings on the spot, get thee to the wildly popular King of Noodles across the street, which sells prepared Yummy dumplings in addition to noodles.

Peaches Patties, the contemporary Jamaican-patty shop in Bernal Heights owned by SF native Shani Jones, fills a conspicuous gap in San Francisco’s food scene: an unfortunate lack of Caribbean dining options. Shani, the daughter of a Jamaican mother and a father from New Orleans, makes her patties from scratch every day, selling beef, curried chicken, and spinach versions.

These pastries are buttery, plump, and redolent of hot pepper, allspice, and thyme, a much-appreciated departure from the all-too-common fate of patty fillings ground into unidentifiable mush. You can complete your patty meal with two other San Francisco rarities: warm sweet plantains, and fluffy rice and peas.

With a boost from small-business incubator La Cocina, Shani has steadily built her business out of a tiny stall in a shared food hall. Where Shani really shines is in Peaches Patties’ local catering, where she has more room to show the finesse and diversity of Jamaican cuisine.

Spring is here! It switched on like a light bulb about a week ago in Kansas City. The daffodils are on their way up, the birds are chirping, and Cookie and I are thrilled. I’m literally humming, “The hills are alive,” on our walks around the neighborhood.

Today, I wanted to share a shockingly green pasta dish with you. It’s easy to make, nourishing and comforting, which is exactly what we need right now. I wouldn’t blame you if you find the color off-putting, but I promise it’s so tasty!
The cool thing about this dish is that we use the same pot of water to cook the kale (including the kale stems), pasta and peas. You’ll need to set a few timers. It’s not complicated, but maybe wait to pour another glass of wine until you’re sitting down to eat.

Once it all comes together, this dish almost tastes like deconstructed ravioli. It’s bright green and punctuated with tender peas and creamy ricotta. Make some for dinner tonight?

Meanwhile, warm the olive oil in a small skillet over medium heat. Add the garlic and cook until the garlic begins to sizzle, then reduce the heat to low. Cook gently, lightly shimmying the pan and turning the garlic every now and then, until the garlic is soften and turning lightly golden, about 5 minutes. Remove the skillet from the heat and pour the contents into a stand blender.
Add the cooked kale stems to the blender when the time’s up. Use tongs to transfer the kale leaves over to the blender (you actually want to bring some of the water with them). Add most of the zest from the lemon, and 1 tablespoon of the juice. Add ¼ teaspoon salt, the red pepper flakes (if using), plus about 10 twists of freshly ground black pepper.
Blend until the mixture is completely smooth and silky, adding more spoonfuls of water if necessary to gain traction. Taste, and add more salt, pepper or pepper flakes, and/or another tablespoon of lemon if desired. We want it to taste lemony! Set aside.

Add the pasta to the boiling water and cook until al dente according to the package directions, stirring often. Place the peas in the sieve and cook them in the water until they’re warmed throughout, about 1 to 2 minutes if fresh, or 2 to 3 minutes if frozen. Set the peas aside.
Before draining the pasta, scoop out about ½ cup of the pasta cooking water with a heat-safe measuring cup. Drain the pasta, then return it to the pot. Pour in the green sauce, about ¾ of the Parmesan and the peas, and add a small splash of the reserved cooking water (not the end of the world if you forgot it). Stir gently until the pasta is well coated and bright green, adding another splash or two of pasta water to loosen the sauce and make it almost creamy.
Divide into bowls immediately. Top each with a sprinkle of the remaining Parmesan, a few dollops of ricotta, and a sprinkle of lemon zest and red pepper flakes (both optional). Finish the bowls with a light drizzle of olive oil. Enjoy! Leftovers will keep for up to 2 days in the refrigerator, covered (technically, they’ll last up to 4, but the flavor degrades as time goes on).

Spring is here! It switched on like a light bulb about a week ago in Kansas City. The daffodils are on their way up, the birds are chirping, and Cookie and I are thrilled. I’m literally humming, “The hills are alive,” on our walks around the neighborhood.

Today, I wanted to share a shockingly green pasta dish with you. It’s easy to make, nourishing and comforting, which is exactly what we need right now. I wouldn’t blame you if you find the color off-putting, but I promise it’s so tasty!
The cool thing about this dish is that we use the same pot of water to cook the kale (including the kale stems), pasta and peas. You’ll need to set a few timers. It’s not complicated, but maybe wait to pour another glass of wine until you’re sitting down to eat.

Once it all comes together, this dish almost tastes like deconstructed ravioli. It’s bright green and punctuated with tender peas and creamy ricotta. Make some for dinner tonight?

This lemony green pasta recipe tastes as bright as it looks! It’s easy to make with kale, pasta, and peas—they all cook in the same pot. Serve this pasta immediately for the best color and texture; leftovers are best consumed within a day or two. Recipe yields 4 servings.
This lemony green pasta recipe tastes as bright as it looks! It’s easy to make with kale, pasta, and peas—they all cook in the same pot. Serve this pasta immediately for the best color and texture; leftovers are best consumed within a day or two. Recipe yields 4 servings.

Bring a large pot (5-quart capacity or greater) of heavily salted water to boil. Meanwhile, prepare your kale by slicing or stripping the leaves from the stems (save them). Discard the rough bottom of the stems, then slice the stems into pieces about ¼-inch wide. Place the stem pieces in a fine-mesh sieve.
When the water is boiling, place the sieve in the water, resting the lip against the top of the pot. Cook the stems for 3 minutes, then remove the sieve and add all of the kale leaves to the pot. Put the sieve back in the water on top of the leaves and cook for 5 minutes (do not drain the water).

Add the pasta to the boiling water and cook until al dente according to the package directions, stirring often. Place the peas in the sieve and cook them in the water until they’re warmed throughout, about 1 to 2 minutes if fresh, or 2 to 3 minutes if frozen. Set the peas aside.
Before draining the pasta, scoop out about ½ cup of the pasta cooking water with a heat-safe measuring cup. Drain the pasta, then return it to the pot. Pour in the green sauce, about ¾ of the Parmesan and the peas, and add a small splash of the reserved cooking water (not the end of the world if you forgot it). Stir gently until the pasta is well coated and bright green, adding another splash or two of pasta water to loosen the sauce and make it almost creamy.
Divide into bowls immediately. Top each with a sprinkle of the remaining Parmesan, a few dollops of ricotta, and a sprinkle of lemon zest and red pepper flakes (both optional). Finish the bowls with a light drizzle of olive oil. Enjoy! Leftovers will keep for up to 2 days in the refrigerator, covered (technically, they’ll last up to 4, but the flavor degrades as time goes on).

Add the pasta to the boiling water and cook until al dente according to the package directions, stirring often. Place the peas in the sieve and cook them in the water until they’re warmed throughout, about 1 to 2 minutes if fresh, or 2 to 3 minutes if frozen. Set the peas aside.
Before draining the pasta, scoop out about ½ cup of the pasta cooking water with a heat-safe measuring cup. Drain the pasta, then return it to the pot. Pour in the green sauce, about ¾ of the Parmesan and the peas, and add a small splash of the reserved cooking water (not the end of the world if you forgot it). Stir gently until the pasta is well coated and bright green, adding another splash or two of pasta water to loosen the sauce and make it almost creamy.
Divide into bowls immediately. Top each with a sprinkle of the remaining Parmesan, a few dollops of ricotta, and a sprinkle of lemon zest and red pepper flakes (both optional). Finish the bowls with a light drizzle of olive oil. Enjoy! Leftovers will keep for up to 2 days in the refrigerator, covered (technically, they’ll last up to 4, but the flavor degrades as time goes on).

Meanwhile, warm the olive oil in a small skillet over medium heat. Add the garlic and cook until the garlic begins to sizzle, then reduce the heat to low. Cook gently, lightly shimmying the pan and turning the garlic every now and then, until the garlic is soften and turning lightly golden, about 5 minutes. Remove the skillet from the heat and pour the contents into a stand blender.
Add the cooked kale stems to the blender when the time’s up. Use tongs to transfer the kale leaves over to the blender (you actually want to bring some of the water with them). Add most of the zest from the lemon, and 1 tablespoon of the juice. Add ¼ teaspoon salt, the red pepper flakes (if using), plus about 10 twists of freshly ground black pepper.
Blend until the mixture is completely smooth and silky, adding more spoonfuls of water if necessary to gain traction. Taste, and add more salt, pepper or pepper flakes, and/or another tablespoon of lemon if desired. We want it to taste lemony! Set aside.

I found the base for this recipe in Six Seasons: A New Way with Vegetables by Chef Joshua McFadden, with Martha Holmberg. It’s one of my very favorite cookbooks, and I reach for it all the time. I’m slowly working my way through Joshua’s vegetable techniques (for example, he suggests grilling vegetables without oil—let’s try it and report back).

It’s difficult to capture the true vibrance and silkiness of this fresh sauce in photos. Mine don’t do it justice. I actually skipped over this recipe in the book, but then I saw it again in The New York Times. The technique reminded me somewhat of these spinach-stuffed shells, so I was intrigued. Both recipes briefly cook greens in boiling water before transforming them into something more enticing.

Joshua’s recipe calls for a full pound of kale, and the stems are discarded along the way. My broccoli cheese soup makes use of the broccoli stems, so I thought it might be fun to try including the kale stems. It worked! I just sliced the stems into 1/4-inch pieces and simmered them in a sieve for a few minutes before adding the kale to cook underneath.

Spring is here! It switched on like a light bulb about a week ago in Kansas City. The daffodils are on their way up, the birds are chirping, and Cookie and I are thrilled. I’m literally humming, “The hills are alive,” on our walks around the neighborhood.

Today, I wanted to share a shockingly green pasta dish with you. It’s easy to make, nourishing and comforting, which is exactly what we need right now. I wouldn’t blame you if you find the color off-putting, but I promise it’s so tasty!
The cool thing about this dish is that we use the same pot of water to cook the kale (including the kale stems), pasta and peas. You’ll need to set a few timers. It’s not complicated, but maybe wait to pour another glass of wine until you’re sitting down to eat.

Once it all comes together, this dish almost tastes like deconstructed ravioli. It’s bright green and punctuated with tender peas and creamy ricotta. Make some for dinner tonight?