Reid Beels

Disclaimer: Since I wrote this, I’ve heard all sorts of nasty rumors flying about this place. If they’re true, that’s unfortuneate. Ken’s definately has St. Honré beat on the bread front, sandwiches too. The jury’s still out on pastries.

While wandering about Northwest Portland this afternoon I made a most spectacular find. Situated on the corner of Thurman and 23rd Place (not to be confused with 23rd Street) is Saint Honoré, a boulangerie and patisserie that looked quite tasty.

Golden loaves ranging from massive baguettes to miniscule dinner rolls cover the rear wall, perched on shelves surrounding a framed diploma from L’Acadmeie Culinarie de France. Mozart’s Night Music floats across the room as I peer into first display case in a long line. I’m kind of surprised by the clicheish musical choice, but the rest of the music that is played while I’m there isn’t nearly as recognizable. Inside the case I see large Chocolate Gateaus, Delicate Mille Feuilles (avec ou sans fraise), smooth Tarts Citron and many other chilled delights. Next in line is an open air display area, piled high with croissants, choquettes, brioche, and all the other bready staples of french baking.

As I reach the register and wait to place my order, I hear hear the girl behind the counter patiently tutoring an inquisitive patron at the proper pronunciation of Mille Feuilles. I order a croissant with turkey and gruyere and a pain au raisin and find a seat at the large communal table that takes up one end of the restaurant. The table is filled with several groups of people, chatting and sipping café au lait from simple white bowls, and I’m impressed by it. It’s rare that I’ve seen communal seating executed successfully in the states. That being said, the rest of the seating looked rather chaotic. The small round tables, all with at least three chairs, scattered throughout the remaining floor space are packed so close together that walking from one end of the room to another is a challenge.

My name is called from the counter and I eagerly retrieve my lunch. I’m pleasantly surprised to see that my croissant is served with a small salad of fresh baby greens topped with a balsamic vinaigrette. I notice that I can see the butter peeking out between the thin layers of the pain au raisin and cannot resist tasting it first. The pastry was tasty, certainly sitting above most I’ve had recently, but fell short of the perfection I had been hoping for. I am surprised by a heavier-than-normal overtone of vanilla in the dough (the jury is still out about this) and I find the center to be chewier than it should be. Setting aside the sweet delight for later, I move on the the main course. My first bite reveals that the turkey and cheese are high quality and surprises me with an unexpected blend of spices that complement them wonderfully.

As I finish the meal, quite satisfied, I am glad that I’ve found another place close to my apartment to get tasty food.