Going Out No. 27: Coquine & Katy Jane's
This must be the place.
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: Dinner
To eat: half-dozen oysters, veggies and tonnato, hush puppies, crab dip, fig leaf ice cream, and a chocolate chip cookie
To drink: Morrigan Martini x2, Freya Martini, and Cameron Pinot Bianco
Cost for two including tip: $154
I’m often asked what my favorite restaurant is; an intimidating question for someone who loves to give recommendations. I usually answer Bellwether Bar. Sometimes Lluritu in Barcelona or Bárbaro Asador de Campo in Queretaro.
But, without a doubt, the best meal I’ve ever had was at Coquine. And I barely remember it.
The whole five-course experience was a breeze of pureed soups, fresh salads, and wine. I remember looking out the window and through the curtains at Mt. Tabor and feeling safe and happy. I was chaperoned from one dish to the next until I reached the end. At which point, a “Candy Tray” of take-home cookies and treats arrived table-side. It was just as delightful as it sounds. I decided I’d never have a better dining experience.
What I’m trying to say is: the competition at the James Beard awards on Monday must have been stiff; for the restaurant that made me disassociate with joy to not take home an award.
In my book, it does not get better than Coquine. This is how I want to be, when dining is at its best: blissed out of my mind.
Like many dishes at Coquine, the spring veggies and tonnato are a celebration of freshness. Sliced snap peas, asparagus, cucumber, basil, and fried capers sit on a plate slathered with tonnato sauce, an anchovy-based aioli. The cucumbers are cold; the snap peas, crunchy. All of it local.
You can order the veggies and tonnato at Katy Jane’s, the newest concept from Coquine. It occupies the space next to the main restaurant, which also serves as a cafe and market by day. Billed as an oyster bar, Katy Jane’s blends seafood dishes, like chilled Monterey squid and mussels in escabeche, with market classics, like roast chicken or hush puppies with honey butter and bee pollen.
A good meal here might kick off with a half-order of oysters. Soft, jiggly things, topped with diced rhubard gelee and vermouth granitas, that slide easily off the shell. They taste like the sea, but like if the sea actually tasted good.
Follow the oysters with glassy trout roe or the coho salmon tartare; diced into symmetrical cubes, mixed with rhubarb and pickled onion, and accompanied with rice puffs for scooping. Point a finger at any seafood dish and eat; you can’t go wrong.
But, on these gloomier June days, you might want to veer towards the hearty, warm dishes that showcase co-owner, Katy Millard’s, Alabama roots—shrimp cocktail, housemade polenta bread, and crawfish dip. A dip might feel pedestrian next to manila clams or the fluke crudo. But it’s a worthy anchor from which to build your meal.
To drink, ice-cold martinis range from dirty (pickled okra and pickle brine) to herbal (summer herb tinctures and lemon). All of them are exactly what you crave at 5 pm on a Friday.
That said, I have had some of my favorite pours of wine here, and the list is worth studying, too. On a recent visit, I had the Pinot Bianco from Cameron Winery and gasped after my first sip. Dramatic, sure; but it was also really good.
When you go to Katy Jane’s, you can sit inside or out. Tables inside are improvisational, jig-sawed to fit in the spaces between the market’s fridges stocked with cheese and swinging front door. Outside, there are also two bistro-style tables. But instead of facing Parisian boulevards, views are of the backside of Mt. Tabor.
Katy Jane’s reminds me of a Wes Anderson movie, diorama-like in its storybook exterior. It sits on an idyllic neighborhood street corner with a steady flow of activity. Cyclists making their way up Belmont glance over as they climb, seemingly rethinking their choices; the 15 bus line bringing workers home from a day downtown. I sit and watch, martini in hand.
If Coquine is a feeling, service is what brings it to life. The team is friendly, endlessly knowledgeable, and led by wife-and-husband duo, Katy Millard and Ksandek Podbielski. It’s not unusual to see either working behind the pastry counter in the market on a busy morning. Despite numerous award nominations, the vibe is humble.
Coquine may have a national footprint, but its focus is local: both on the ingredients and the regulars who live nearby. Its sense of place and purpose is strong. They know people love Coquine not just for its high-end dining, but for its everyday offerings—like their famous chocolate chip cookies or sub-$25 bottles of wine.
This is the place you go on a snow day with your kids for hot chocolate, but also when you want a Michelin-worthy dinner to celebrate anniversaries or new jobs. Coquine embodies both occasions. Like any good neighbor, it’s here when you need it.
At the dog park the other day, I watched a Stafford Terrier roll around in the grass on its back, legs in the air. Carefree and happy. The owner and I tried to identify the human-equivalent of that sense of joy — floating in a pool, a scalp massage during a haircut, rolling down the window in the car. To feel what that dog must feel!!
But as I wrote this piece, I realized. This is that. Sitting outside Katy Jane’s, slurping down oysters and watching the world go by — not a care in the world. This must be that feeling. This must be the place.
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Great review! I was pulling for them on Monday.