castro's beard. it has been my experience in this fine city that some of the more popular ethnic restaurants are revered more for their flair than their authenticity. sometimes all you want is some good ol' southern soul food and instead you end up with a sack of tin foil animals. or you find yourself in the mood for a simple bowl of ramen, but end up suffering some weird strain of cafeteria that charges $10 for the stuff. i tread through too many of these type of experiences before finally washing up on the shore, jaded, and resolute that i would not fall into one of these traps again.
and thats why it took me almost three years to walk through the doors of pambiche. i lumped it in with all the cutesy doodle, ethnic joints that are so cherished by native portlanders, and i wanted no part of it. so here we are, a couple weeks before the big move and we are trying to walk our way to an easy lunch. browsing the 'spoon and nothing is sounding good. then, slyly, the wife smiles that chesire cat grin and says "we could try pambiche." i immediately go into a rant about castro sending the dgi in there and wiping out the place when he saw how they bastardized his homelands cuisine, etc.. but, with smooth persistence, she manages to get me to look over the happy hour menu. perhaps it was the rum that we had been drinking, but i began to warm to the idea of tackling some of those small plates. "ok, fine" i tell her. "but if anythings portlandized theyre gonna hear about it!" so after finishing off the rum we propel ourselves down the road and away.
we arrive and are greeted and seated by a friendly gal who seems to be running the whole show with the help of one other fellow. i hear people bitch a lot about the service in this town, and sure, ive had a couple times where i wondered "what is this person doing in this industry?' but overall, i think people here have some pretty bizarre ideas about what good service actually entails. i say this because only the most miserable sod could not appreciate the kind of thorough and thoughtful service that we received at pambiche. the people were nice, on top of things and actually seemed to care about our experience and they managed to do this without coming across as patronizing either. it was a very well balanced act.
perhaps, perhaps you would like to know what i thought of the food. well, let tell you what we ordered. one espinica con queso empanada, the moros & christianos, a mound of ropa vieja, some ajiaco criollo and of course, maduros. where to begin? i have been eating empanadas my entire life, and in my entire life i have never had an empanada whose shell melted my heart the way this one did. soft, buttery, flaky, delicate..... it was a fine piece of pastry and the creamy filling allowed for no letdown. it was probably my favorite thing at our table. 2nd place winner goes to the ajiaco criollo. we had never had this dish before, and afterwards we were scrambling across the internet for a recipe for it. if i were to come back here for a proper lunch, this would be the dish i would order. a stew teeming with a variety of root vegetables, along with chunks of both pork and beef, i spooned it in as slowly as humanly possible, despite the little monster inside who was screaming out for more, now. moving along, the moros & christianos was another one i couldnt get enough of. it was a little dry but once you mix in some of that salsa, it all came together. this dish also, left me yearning for more. in between bites i had to remind myself to get a stab of the maduros, before my wife ate them all. i may have had better ones, but i cant recall where or when. they were dangerously good. which leaves us with the ropa vieja. if people only know one cuban dish, it is usually this. there used to be a cart up on division called havana cafe. this guy, he made some of the most incredible ropa vieja. it was better than any i ever had in cuba, better than any ive had stateside, better than any anywhere. and then one day he closed up shop and left for texas. i felt like i was headed for a funeral when i heard the news, and there has been a void ever since. so, it goes without saying that the ropa vieja bar was set rather high. but even on its own merit, the ropa vieja at pambiche is pretty mediocre. it was much oilier than i could understand or care for and in the flavor department all i was getting was a trace of vinegar, and not much else. if i had come here for lunch and ordered just this, i would not have much nice to say about pambiche. fortunately, i have all the other plates to fall back on and so it was only a bump in the road when weighed all together..
oh, and yes; thank you for understanding that this is simple food and doesnt need to be dressed up or given any kind of nw "twist". that this fine cuisine stands quite well on its own without any need for help from a gringos imagination.
grade: b (the $5 specialty cocktails we had were nice, though i was a bit surprised by the omission of a mojito or cuba libre)