Althea Potter Credit: Michelle Mitchell

Althea Potterโ€™s cooking space at Southeast Wine Collective is no more than a few induction burners and an oven, yet the complexity of her platesโ€”like roasted squash with layers of chickpeas, harissa, feta, and squash hummusโ€”make it a rare wine bar with food to match.

One of the most memorable meals Iโ€™ve ever had was five years ago at Tanuki, where three friends and I sat for hours drinking shochu and eating a ceaseless parade of kimchi bacon blue cheese buns, exquisite Hamachi, and roasted bone marrowโ€”all conjured from two induction burners by legendary chef/owner Janis Martin.

Hidden in spaces smaller than most apartment kitchens, thereโ€™s a league of female chefs in Portland who are making improbable magic with just a few burners, quality ingredients, and a whole lot of ingenuity.

Most are constrained by small spaces and the lack of a hood, meaning tricked-out gas grills or even, for some, a walk-in refrigerator, are out the question. Many are adjacent to robust beverage programs. All are putting out great food.

โ€œIโ€™ve done a lot of cooking out of really weird spaces, like a hallway in an office building downtown, or a field without running water,โ€ says Potter, who worked at Jenn Louisโ€™ Lincoln in catering and at Ned Ludd. โ€œFor me, I was used to looking at a space and saying, โ€˜All right, youโ€™re going to be a kitchen now.โ€™โ€

Potter, 34, took over her broom closet-sized space in 2014, and late last year her kitchenโ€”and menuโ€”expanded under the new Oui! Wine Bar + Restaurant, which now boasts the most solid $35 prix fixe feast in town (see our review below). Her space is still super small, though; three induction burners and an electric oven are all that stand between Potter and a 38-seat restaurant with a summertime patio crowd.

โ€œWeโ€™re crazy people; we also have a catering company,โ€ she says, adding that braises and items that can be cooked in one pan, like a succulent half-roast chicken with roasted potatoes, manzanilla olives, and a judicious application of smoked chile aioli, are necessary innovations.

No matter the time of year, if you order barbeque or a burger at Backyard Social on North Killingsworth, itโ€™s made by someone standing outside. The kitchen inside, says chef and co-owner Emory Brun, involves a โ€œwalk-in closetโ€ with a six-burner electric stove, a dish pit, and a few lowboys. That setup supports a back patio that can hold 80, an indoor space of 30, and an event space of about 50 people.

Brun says that having a strict prep list of dishes is critical to getting everything ready to assemble during the busy evening hours. The result? Better-than-most bar food, like cornmeal crusted tomatillos, smoked beef short ribs over creamy polenta, and a tart radicchio salad with citrus and a burnt honey vinaigrette.

โ€œOur kitchen is probably a quarter of my home kitchen, with no walk in,โ€ Brun says. โ€œIt really ensures things are fresh, and thereโ€™s not a lot of waste here, which is really nice, really keeping up on rotating and everything is pristinely labeled, rotated, and put away correctly.โ€

At Water Avenue Coffee, Chef TaMara Edens and her small team are among the new school of cafes with brunch that matches the care that goes into the beans. I was taken by a duck hash thatโ€™s since been scaled back to more typical cafรฉ fare. Still, the fluffy eggs, creamy polenta, and fat avocado toast with pomegranate seeds and zaatar are amazing, considering theyโ€™re being produced from little more than a glorified shelf with four induction burners and a convection oven.

Edens, who worked under Ben Meyer (Old Salt, Grain & Gristle) and Aaron Barnett (St. Jack, La Moule), says she also has a catering background that helps inspire flexibility, joking, โ€œAt least Iโ€™m not getting attacked by bees while cutting a melting wedding cake while our food truck catches on fire.โ€

Andrea Damewood is a food writer and restaurant critic. Her interests include noodle soups, fried chicken, and sparkles.