Going Out No. 15: Kachka
Sure, there's hygge--but have you tried vodka?
Welcome! This is the Going Out edition of Riley’s Recs, where I review a restaurant, bar, or activity here in Portland. Every Sunday, I also share Staying In recipe recommendations for your week. Don’t forget to check out pdxrecs.com for even more recommendations and follow RR on Instagram at @rileysrecs. Enjoy!
Meal: Happy Hour
Price for two including tip: $81
To eat: Pickles, Brindza, Tvorog Vareniki, Siberian Pelmeni, and Apple Turnover Cake
To drink: Yorsh (beer and rotating vodka) and White Wine
Miserable times? I’ve had a few. Near the top of the list is a 6-hour long hike up Torugart Pass in Kyrgyzstan that I did almost ten years ago with my dad. I was lucky to have traveled halfway around the world….but the hike was brutal and required navigating 13,000 feet of elevation. At one point near the top, I made the mistake of glancing down and saw a dead horse that had fallen from the cliffside. It broke me. I had a panic attack.
We somehow made it to the top, but of course we still had to get back down. By the time we returned to our yurt, I was completely miserable. One of our guides—an older Kyrgyz man who had fought in the nearly decade-long Soviet-Afghan war—clocked my emotional state and offered me a shot of vodka. He said “vodka cures anything.” Have a cold? Add red pepper flakes to your glass. Stomach ache? Add salt.
I drank it straight and sure enough, it worked.
I’m not suggesting hard liquor be a regular cure-all. It’s not. But we would be fools to think that alcohol does not have its place in lubricating and altering emotion. It is in this spirit (pun intended) that Kachka—the 10-year-old Southeast Portland restaurant “representing dishes from the former Soviet Union through a Pacific Northwest lens”—has become the city’s unofficial vodka advocate.
Kachka celebrates the tradition of the “toast and sip,” the act of taking a sip of vodka, clinking glasses, and saying a few commemorative words or simply "vashe zrodovye," which translates to "to your health." It’s like a pre-dinner blessing, a prayer to initiate the meal. The toast and sip is used to celebrate happy times, like weddings and anniversaries, and less happy times, like funerals.
Toasts also commemorate the start of something new. As we close this year and enter a new one, this post is my toast to Portland. Kachka is a restaurant that exemplifies the food scene that I’ve fallen even more in love with this year as I’ve gone on this newsletter journey with RR.
Vashe zrodovye!
Co-owner and James Beard-nominated chef Bonnie Morales does not have a name you’d expect for someone known for making foods from the former Soviet Union. But “Bonnie” comes from immigrant parents seeking assimilation in the United States and “Morales” from her husband and co-owner, Israel Morales.
Bonnie’s family story starts in Belarus, where during World War II, her Jewish great grandmother fled to Ukraine carrying a three-month-old and little else. On her way, she was stopped and interrogated. To prove whether or not she was Ukrainian, the people who apprehended her asked “If you’re actually Ukrainian, then what’s the word for ‘duck’?” Unsure, she answered kachka. To her surprise, they let her continue on her way. Apparently, kachka happens to be the word for duck in a handful of Slavic languages, including Ukrainian. That stroke of luck became the restaurant’s namesake.
This will explain the many duck figurines dangling from a chandelier. And the kitsch that radiates through the rest of the space. Look around, and you’ll find wooden columns (maybe even load bearing??) carved into the shape of chicken feet. A collection of cutting boards. A huge carpet hangs on the back wall, which also smartly doubles as a sound dampener. Look up, and you’ll see tree branches crawling over the ceiling. Despite being housed on the first floor of a new apartment building block, the Kachka team has somehow managed to keep the same matronly charm from their original location.
In the top right corner of Kachka’s dinner menu lives a set of instructions for “how to eat like a Russian.” Cover every inch of your table with zakuski (cold appetizers), fill everyone’s glasses—ideally with vodka—and toast.
Clink. Drink. Eat. Repeat.
I didn’t see anyone giving toasts during my recent visits to Kachka, but because all of the tables are arranged in close proximity, I did overhear some really great gossip, including from a couple who was arguing over whether or not “it is actually hard to be a popular kid” like Ariana Grande’s character in Wicked, and from two women discussing a friend who is on her fifth marriage. And isn’t that just as good?
Scandal aside, the vibe is decidedly celebratory. Every meal opens with a “Are you celebrating a special occasion today?” and the owners must buy birthday candles by the pallet because I saw at least three in the span of an hour the other night.
Celebrations call for good food and good drink, which Kachka most definitely offers. The menu—almost overwhelming in size—reveals the owners’ intentions: the majority of the dishes are small plates meant to be shared. Standout cold plates include the king trumpet mushroom tartare, an earthy elegant dish that I think is a must-order, and the picturesque Herring ‘Under a Fur Coat,’ which looks like a 7-layer dip, but if it had a beautiful beet purple layer. If you’re feeling really fancy, there’s always caviar. For hot starters, you must get the short rib borsch, which will change any borsch skeptic’s mind. Served with shiny, buttery buns, it’s a treat.
The Happy Hour menu is generous. It features fan favorites, like the tvorog dumplings—pockets of dough filled with cheese and scallions and glossed with butter and cream—for $9 and a special combo meal for $12.95 (cabbage roll, cup of soup, bread and butter, and a glass of kompot). Ordering a meal for one feels wrong in an environment designed for sharing, but I respect it nonetheless.
Mains are limited but strong, and include dishes like the crowd-pleasing lamb Lyulya Kebab and the Rabbit in a Clay Pot. Although delicious—again—small plates rule. Pick anything with sour cherries, mushrooms, cream, and beets, and you’ll be happy.
Order vodka, too. Kachka’s scrolling drink menu is filled with 30, 60, and 90mg vodka options from around the world along with a host of infusions. I’ve tried both the sunflower—which was like a bouquet in your mouth—and the caraway—pleasantly licoricey. Vodka, as we all know from our younger days when we infused it with gummy worms, is very pro-collaboration. It’s begging to be infused. But if vodka is not your thing, the wine program should not be overlooked. Slovenian and Georgian wines are having a moment, and I’m sure Kachka’s owners are like “finally!”
To close the meal, desserts are simple. Although larger options like the seasonal apple turnover cake are delicious, I recommend getting a few of the tea cookies. Small, hearty, and the embodiment of Kachka’s ethos—food designed to be eaten with drinks.
There is another toast Morales likes to give. It’s budem, which means ‘We will.’ As in, we will exist. Life goes on. And in this cold PNW winter with its 4 p.m. sunsets, unrelenting rain, and strong winds, we need that reminder. Make the best of these dark days with good food, friends, and vodka, because a New Year and spring is just around the corner. Budem!
More from Kachka
Kachka Horseradish Vodka is the best stocking stuffer.
Kachka Lavka deli and store is open daily on the second story of the restaurant for all of your tinned fish, lunchtime sandwiches, and imported canned goods needs.
Kachka frozen dumplings are sold all over town, including at New Seasons market.
Looking for a New Year’s Eve plan? Kachka is open until midnight.
Keep an eye out for future Modern Adventure trips with Bonnie to the Republic of Georgia.
If you liked reading this, click the ❤️ button on this post so more people can discover it on Substack!
Great restaurant feature. The food is so good and the right side of the restaurant feels like you are eating in a Russian grandmas kitchen 🥰
I went there once. It was good. However, once they added their 22% automatic service charge I won't go back. Call me old fashioned but I still feel a tip should be based on the quality of service. 15% for adequate, 20% for exceptional and 10% if substandard. If they want extra $ to pay for health insurance and other benefits for employees then raise the menu prices, don't tack on extra fees.