La Dolce Vegan

VEGANS EVERYWHERE view Portland as a cruelty-free, meat-free
wonderland, where farm animals cavort among rainbows and clover fields,
hoof in hand with a shining, healthy, slightly anarchistic populace.
They’re mostly right.

While the city harbors good vegan options, and a ravenously loyal
customer base, there’s little variety. The thing that Portland
omnivores have that vegans lack is the luxury to be stymied by the
question, “Where should we eat?” Aside from a good selection of faintly
Mexican options, fried pub grub, vegetable patties, and lentil-laden
entrées, there is a deficit of diversity in Portland’s vegan
universe. Enter Portobello Vegan Trattoria.

Wednesday through Saturday nights, Portobello occupies a Southeast
Portland coffee shop. The tables are outfitted with black tablecloths,
heavy silverware is wrapped in red napkins, placemats line a long bar
facing the street, and the music is set for dining. The atmosphere is
romantic despite a lingering coffee shop patina.

Ambiance aside, Portobello’s very affordable menu (most
entrées can be ordered as $5 small plates) offers a fine
selection of rustic starters, pastas, and vegetable dishes. While
unlikely to ever become the first choice for omnivores seeking Italian
goodness, Portobello is a place where friends with diverse appetites
can dine assured that everyone will leave the table satisfied.

Dairy lovers will be surprised by the bagna cauda—a
selection of veggies accompanied by a dipping sauce. Fabio jokes abound
(I can’t believe it’s not butter!) after eating a crisp radish dipped
in the garlicky olive oil, which is remarkably analogous to melted
butter.

It’s a trick that works throughout the menu. The
pâté al tartufo can
soothe carnivorous cravings, and the cappellacci pasta—stuffed on my visit with delicately sweet acorn
squash—is bathed in a rich sauce you’ll swear contains cream. The
agnolotti is my favorite dish at Portobello. The pasta
envelopes, stuffed with meaty braised tempeh and accompanied by Meyer
lemon sauce, are delightful—the nutty tempeh tones are brightened
by contrasting lemon and balanced with subtle hints of sage. Vegetable
dishes also impress. The garlicky broccolini, for instance, is tender
but retains vegetable snap and huge, savory garlic flavor.

There are few low points on the menu, save for two exceptions, both
with quotation marks in their title. The “Spaghetti and Meatball”
doesn’t suffer as much from flavor as it does from false advertising. I
can accept the use of thin tendrils of zucchini as a decent imposter
for al dente angel hair pasta, but the pile of lentils posing as a
meatball is way off the mark. Of course, as a meat eater I’ll admit
bias, but I would enjoy the dish more knowing what to expect. In fact,
the tomato basil sauce is delectable, but those lentils are a hard
sell.

The “Cheese and Sausage” lasagna has a similar flaw. Chao Cheese is
an excellent substitute for ricotta, but the un-sausage is
disappointing and too rubbery. The dish also has a strange sweetness
that skews the overall flavor.

The quotation marks in Portobello’s menu are far too coy. They’re
completely unnecessary for food with no need to apologize for what it
is: Italian, vegan, and largely delicious. And while Portobello doesn’t
erase the lack of variety in the city’s vegan cuisine, it’s an
excellent start. It’s also the best reason I’ve seen thus far to take
hold of a fellow earthling’s hoof, head for the clover fields, and go
vegan.