82 Acres - SE Portland, Oregon
82 Acres has come to occupy the same space once held by the venerable Quaintrelle in SE Portland. How does it compare?
It had been a few years since I’d sat in the space once occupied by Quaintrelle—not because I did not love their food or the service or the space, but simply because time gets away from us the way almost anything does. After hearing that Quaintrelle would be vacating its existing space, I was happy to hear that an ambitious restaurant, 82 Acres, would be taking its place.
Obviously, it’s not fair to compare a restaurant simply by the space that it has come to occupy. I didn’t want to spend my entire time comparing 82 Acres to the things in Portland that have come and gone. Not only is it not fair, but it’s not what matters about a restaurant. What matters, ultimately and entirely, is the food and the service as it exists now.
Before we get into the actual review, though, I just wanted to include one small bit for context from their website:
Chef Will Preisch, formerly of the acclaimed Holdfast Dining, now serves as the Culinary Director at both 82 Acres in Portland and Abbey Road Farm. Renowned for his innovative approach and dedication to farm-to-table cuisine, Chef Will crafts menus that celebrate the seasons and highlight the bounty of locally sourced ingredients. At Abbey Road Farm, he collaborates closely with the on-site garden team to create dishes rooted in the farm’s harvest, while at 82 Acres, he brings the same creative flair to Portland’s dynamic dining scene. His vision ensures every dining experience is memorable.
Given that, let’s get chat about the actual food, the new space, and the menu.
When I walked into 82 Acres on Valentine’s Day, I was greeted with a mostly familiar decor and style: a sort of industrial meets boho-chic meets modern look and feel. That is to say, I rather loved it. I’m a sucker for tall ceilings and chef’s counters and low intimate lighting and candles and the smell of food and low chatter and earthy tones. How do we learn to love a space if it doesn’t feel like life exists there?
We were seated promptly by our kind host, who took our jackets and then seated us at our table. Since this was their first night of service, it was clear there were a few systems still being figured out—people being shuffled to particular tables and then moved again, and the slightest sense of nervousness and excitement that comes with a new restaurant opening. Rather than find it bothersome, I found it rather charming and endearing.
Our waitress was lovely and boisterous, and we chatted about her cats and how we—the old people in the restaurant—were probably just going to go home after dinner and sleep. Because that’s what old people do.
The first course arrived, out of a five-course tasting menu, and it was a banger.
egg, tomato mayonnaise, chicken skin, caviar
They came out swinging with this first course. The egg was soft boiled and decadent, the aioli was rich, creamy, and provided a wonderful zest and elevation to the dish. And the caviar, of course, added the right notes of funkiness and salt. Not only did it work, but I really wanted another four or five of them as part of my dinner.
The egg slammed me in my mouth hole, and I was excited to see what else they’d be bringing out for dinner this evening. I love being surprised by cuisine, by different ideas, and this dish was not only a surprise—it was light and wasn’t heavy in the least. As I said, I could have had a half dozen of them easily. But the next dish is the one that truly shocked me. In a great way.
Beet salad, with horseradish crema sauce, lardo, dill sauce, pastrami-furikake
I fucking hate beets. No, you don’t get it. I hate beets. I hate them the way small children hate broccoli. I hate beets in the way that Wile Coyote hates the Road Runner. I hate beets the way that Freddy Krueger hates insomniacs. I have been to several one, two, and three Michelin star restaurants that have served beets for one dish or another and I absolutely despised them. I hate beets.
Sigh. Until now. I loved this dish. I sat in stunned awe for the rest of the night recognizing that some part of my culinary heritage had shifted drastically. These beats did not have the insufferable earthiness and bite to them that I’ve come to hate. Instead—and this is a theme!—they were light, and the dill sauce was herbaceous, the horseradish crema provided a creamy kick. I would have eaten three of these.
I’m so, so annoyed to have found that—in at least one fashion or another!—I fucking love beets. Holy shit. Throughout the rest of dinner, I found myself shaking my head and trying to argue with myself about the whole thing. You don’t understand, reader. You don’t. I hate them so much. And instead, I wanted more.
Lobster tail with citrus glaze, over saffron risotto
I generally am more or less ambivalent about lobster. It’s a decent protein, and in the hands of a good chef, it’s good. I don’t think I’ve ever had lobster I considered to be great or outstanding. That’s probably one of my own failings.
It is with that in mind that I’ll say the third course was delicious. The citrus glaze on the lobster tail truly elevated the protein, and the risotto was soft, creamy, and—as I’ve said before—didn’t come across as heavy. It had an herbaceous quality, with hints of the saffron and the entire dish was wonderfully prepared.
Was it my favorite dish of the night? No. But if you love lobster in a way that I don’t, you’d be hard pressed to find a better version of it anywhere in Portland.
NY Strip, miso hollandaise, sunchokes
This might have been the only misstep for me the entire evening. And I preface that saying that it might have only been bad luck. While the cohesiveness of the dish was wonderful—the hollandaise sauce cutting the richness of the beef, the sunchokes being so beautifully carnalized they almost tasted like chocolate—I would say the NY strip itself might have been over seasoned, and I say that as a person that loves a heavily seasoned steak. The chili crunch set on top of the steak, when proportioned appropriately, gave the steak exactly the kind of heat I like in a piece of meat. But in the darkness, and with my old eyes, it was kind of hard for me to discern that that’s what I might have needed to do. So I got a very seriously hot bite when I first tried the steak.
French toast, with chocolate and espresso sauce, and white chocolate crumble
Not to belabor the point or anything, but I would also eat about seventy-five of these, too. The French toast itself still had its form, while also being absolutely soft and buttery and sumptuous when cut open for a bite. The chocolate provided a wonderful bit of richness that melded well with the sweetness of the white chocolate. All in all, this was a great way to end the meal.
Where does this land us? How was the meal overall? Would I go back? Were there missteps? WHAT OF THE BEETS?
Yes, there were a few missteps. Really minor ones, though. The servers were clearly on edge when reciting the dishes that had just come from the kitchen. They’d obviously practiced the names and ingredients more than a few times. But these are normal jitters, the shaking out in service environments when a menu and staff come together to create the cohesive whole. I won’t harp on these points, primarily because it’s silly and it’s worth cutting some slack for what amounted to nerves. Our staff was delightful, kind, prompt, and I would return again for that alone.
Other than the over seasoning on the steak—which was still so very minor in the grand scheme of things—there weren’t many things that I could fault for the meal. I loved their take on these dishes, and I’d be curious to try whatever Will Preisch, their chef, comes up with again.
I hope they continue to find success in the vestiges of Quaintrelle, and that they continue to innovate and take chances. I’ll be back again. Hungry. And I’m having all the eggs. And beets. Sigh. BEETS.
The Portland Critic Verdict
Cost: 9/10 thumbs up. For two people, for a tasting menu and wine pairing and tip, the total came to $500ish. That’s more or less the top mark I’d normally spend on a meal in Portland at almost any restaurant for two people. That being said, I’m used to spending that much on a tasting menu, and so it doesn’t surprise me that much. Your mileage may vary, of course.
Taste: 9/10 thumbs up. I like beets now? Fucking hell.
Staff: 9/10 thumbs up. Wonderful, conscientious staff. A few jitters and issues, but nothing egregious and nothing worth calling out. The staff was great.
Ease: 7/10 thumbs up. Mostly neighborhood street parking. Southeast is and can be a bitch. But it’s worth the hassle.
If you’d like to go check them out, I’d highly encourage you to do so:
82 Acres, SE Portland
2032 SE Clinton St
Portland, OR 97202