Akkapong Earl Ninsom is the restaurateur behind several stars in Portland’s culinary constellation, but Langbaan — his supper club within Northwest Portland’s Phuket Cafe — is the brightest. Here, tasting menus pull inspiration from regions, time periods, and styles of dining throughout Thailand’s culinary history, though a few dishes remain as constants as menus change: Jewels of cara cara orange mingle with plump shrimp and peanuts, cradled in a betel leaf with fish sauce caramel, while a crispy rice cup supports Hokkaido scallop, coated in a sweet coconut cream. Every meal ends with a dessert from pastry chef Maya Erickson, one of the city’s finest.

Nothing feels as celebratory as a meal at St. Jack, where diners marvel at beautiful plates in a humming dining room, glasses of Champagne bubbling on tables. The simple classics are done astoundingly well here: The restaurant’s knockout chicken liver mousse is velveteen and has a sweetness reminiscent of rich ice cream, and a simple plate of steak frites comes with an on-point shallot-red wine demi-glace and tangy bearnaise. But distinctive dishes like mushroom vol-au-vent crowned with a bouquet of lettuces and nasturtium, or a sliver of brown-buttery foie gras tart topped with a seasonal gelee, are the ones that keep St. Jack top-of-mind when thinking about special occasion restaurants.

Once home to Top Chef contestant Sara Hauman, this stylish Pearl District restaurant is now the turf of longstanding Portland chef Erik Van Kley, a talent with a singular perspective on classic Pacific Northwestern ingredients. Take, for example, potato pierogies, which hide under a thicket of Burgundian truffles, hot sauce adding pops of orange to a creme fraiche; the flavor is immediately recognizable, the truffle adding a fun air of froofiness to the chive creme fraiche. All of the food works well with the exceptionally detailed wine list, which includes a few long-cellared options hailing from the Willamette Valley.

Jazz plays while pots of pu-erh and mugs of coffee land at tables around this charming French-Scandinavian cafe in downtown Portland. Recent visits to Maurice harken back to its early days, where scones and cookies bookend savory meals of cottage-cheese-topped smorrebrod or fluffy quiches with the subtle flavor of brie and shallots. Meals at Maurice feel luxurious in their simplicity, thanks to its leisurely pace and beautiful, minimalist plates, be it a bowl of mussels brightened with mint or a briny brandade served with rose potatoes and baguette. As usual, fika here — peppery cheesecakes, souffle pudding cakes fragrant with meyer lemon — are a must.

Hidden away on a mezzanine of a Southwest Portland building, Tercet is delivering one of the city’s most polished tasting menus, pulling from Oregon waters, woods, and grasslands. Depending on the time of year, diners may sit down to meaty morels under a bed of tartare and hollandaise, with little spring onion crepes for something akin to tacos; or, maybe absolutely silken, delicate Chinook, accompanied by a sorrel fumet, beets, and plenty of herbs — seemingly Scandinavian in inspiration. On a recent visit, a tartlet of smoked trout roe and dulse was a bite-sized balancing act of brininess and shortbread sweetness, a common culinary theme throughout any Tercet tasting menu. Tasting menus start at $150.

In a North Mississippi pizza cafe that feels casual but intimate, pizzaiola Sarah Minnick embraces paradoxes: She took something brimming with childhood charm — pizza and ice cream — and gave it a high-end twist. Ever-changing pizzas are a garden of edible flowers and mushrooms, atop an airy-but-sturdy pizza dough made with Oregon whole grains; they’re accompanied by salads and soups made with peak-season produce. While the menu changes on an almost weekly basis, Minnick’s culinary creativity and attention to detail remains constant. If someone is defining Portland’s distinct pizza style, it’s Minnick.

When talking about barbecue in Portland, it is inevitable that one name will come up: Matt Vicedomini, the pitmaster behind Matt’s BBQ. The North Mississippi food cart is a point of pilgrimage for barbecue heads, who visit for pink-ringed brisket gently laced with smoke, or juicy, snappy sausages filled with cheddar and jalapeño. The queso mac and cheese is uncomplicated in its deliciousness, a worthy complement to any meats ordered; the pickles and house barbecue sauces provide a welcome acidity, though it almost feels like sacrilege to go straight for condiments — we’re telling you, the barbecue here is that good.

Since Zoraya Zambrano and her children, Gary and Gloria Marmanillo, opened Casa Zoraya back in 2018, this Peruvian spot has been Piedmont’s under-the-radar gem: Ceviches land at the table like a work of art, fried calamari adding crunch to a bed of fresh seasonal seafood tossed with a summery leche de tigre. Arroz Chaufa, a Peruvian fried rice dish, gets an upgrade with a passionfruit reduction, which adds dose of acidity and sweetness. And the pisco sours feel like they’re shipped straight from Lima, best sipped on Casa Zoraya’s back patio on nice days.

This red food cart and its massive “#Loaded” sign is a beacon on Northeast MLK, attracting loyal devotees and first-timers for its top-tier soul food. Owner Kiauna Nelson and her staff load up gargantuan containers of saucy-and-smoky pot roast and garlicky macaroni and cheese. Nelson’s food inspires shouts for how flavorful it is, from the fried chicken tossed in a seasoning reminiscent of Buffalo Bleu potato chips to her slices of cake, thrown in with the order for good measure. One meal is enough to feed four, and make no mistake: This is some of Portland’s finest soul food.

Tame Impala plays on the speakers at this Central Eastside tasting menu restaurant; little pillows hide in the nooks of the banquette. Here, chef Vince Nguyen explores Vietnamese ingredients and dishes through the lens of his several years in fine dining, resulting in a meal that is hard to find anywhere else. Menus change often, but any meal may involve dishes like silken tofu custard studded with pieces of fresh durian, geoduck, and little caramelized petals of lychee, or tiny lobster meatballs, peppery and juicy, in a sweet broth, surrounded by luscious tendon and orange balls of squash. For dessert, diners dunk charcoal-grilled bánh bò nướng, springy and almost savory, in a pandan-steeped coconut milk with a decadent dollop of caviar and fig leaf oil floating on top. The tasting menu starts at $145 per person; make a reservation here.

The original carts are gone, but Nong's Khao Man Gai’s restaurant space on Southeast Ankeny is still kicking, serving chef Nong Poonsukwattana’s signature dish: a deceptively simple take on Hainanese chicken. Ask five acolytes their favorite part of the dish and each will offer a different answer: the soul-satisfying broth, the truly perfect rice, Nong's ginger-heavy sauce, or the chicken itself, skins or no. Poonsukwattana’s story is one of dogged perseverance; that has not changed.

Matta chef Richard Le refers to his food cart as a Việt Kiều experience: Việt Kiều, a term that refers to ethnically Vietnamese people living outside the country, is how Le identifies, a Vietnamese American chef from California. His food is a representation of that identity: He recreates fast food classics like Filet-O-Fish with Thai chile tartar sauce and burgers served on pandan milk buns, often incorporating culinary techniques and inspiration he inherited from his mom, aunt, and grandmother. Brunch is often a busy time at the cart, when Le serves gratifyingly messy, well-balanced breakfast sandwiches, layered with smashed pork patties and the cart’s “dac biet sauce.” Le is a deeply casual, instantly likable chef, and his dishes reflect his creativity, charm, and honesty.

Ethan and Geri Leung went from popping up in Seattle to opening this casual food cart next to Vietnamese American mainstay Matta, which offers a simultaneously inventive and accessible take on Filipino staples. Every dish has an incredible depth of flavor, whether it’s the lingering note of seafood and floral acidity in a shrimp-topped arroz caldo, or the tamari-rich adobo, which hits the grill for a touch of char and smoke. Brunches include sticky-sweet tocino and satisfyingly simple garlic rice, each dish popping with acid and salt.

Casual diners in T-shirts and jeans sit at teal tables in this airy, cool dining room, surrounded by stormy blue walls printed with seahorses. The decor reflects the restaurant’s vaguely oceanic theme, which the kitchen enforces with dishes like Pacific Northwestern oysters with granita, or Dungeness crab and lobster-filled brioche dotted with trout roe. Pineapple provides tropical acidity to thick slices of albacore, with radishes for crunch and the tickle of heat in a nuoc cham. Despite the seafood focus, land-locked dishes are no afterthought, especially a slip-off-the-bone St. Louis spare rib in a maple bourbon glaze.

Mother-son duo Bibi and Michael Singh celebrate the cuisine of Guyana, underrepresented not only in Portland’s restaurant scene but also the country’s, at their Southeast Stark food cart within the rising star pod Lil’ America. Here, the Singhs emphasize the culinary influences on the South American country — particularly the Indian and Chinese influences — with dishes like a creamy house dal and chow mein made with imported Guyanese noodles; however, the true draw of this cart is its namesake, the “bakes.” Fluffy pockets arrive filled with everything from salt cod to Nutella, though the bake stuffed with chana aloo, layers of garlic and ginger intermingling with Guyanese curry powder and tender chickpeas, is Portland food cart dining at its finest.

It’s hard to understate how influential this Buckman Russian restaurant is: When Bonnie and Israel Morales opened Kachka in 2014, it ushered in the great Slavic American culinary renaissance, as restaurants around the country popped up celebrating the cuisines of the former Soviet Republics. Today, the restaurant is stronger than ever: Kachka’s zakuski cover tables, caviar and roe scattered between plates of multi-colored pickles and fish-topped toasts. Bowls of juicy Siberian pelmeni bathe in butter and vinegar, a dollop of smetana sour cream on top for good measure. Tender rabbit swims in a braising liquid of cherries, porcini, and garlic, perhaps served alongside cabbage rolls filled with beef, pork, and lamb. Drinkers should opt for a few pours of the restaurant’s fun house-infused vodkas, available in flights or single pours.

Farm-to-table is perhaps the most pervasive of the Portland culinary cliches; every restaurant in town touts some version of its ethos, name-dropping a few farms or grabbing a few seasonal items from the farmers market. But Pasture owners Kei Ohdera and HJ Schaible take their emphasis on responsible sourcing to a new level, seeking out and developing relationships with regenerative farms for whole-animal butchery inside the restaurant. The result: Straight-up delicious sandwiches, ranging from beef mortadella to achingly tender pastrami, served with accompaniments like house pickled peppers. It’s not just walking the walk of sustainability; it’s making it feel accessible (and delicious).

Akkapong Earl Ninsom did it again: After treating Portland to deftly executed Thai cooking at Langbaan and Paadee, the chef and restaurateur created a casual southern Thai compatriot on Northeast Killingsworth with hardcore devotees. Hat Yai’s shallot-fried chicken, salty and crunchy, pairs exceptionally well with Malayu-style curry and crispy roti, all available in the popular combo No. 1. However, diners will be rewarded for straying from the top billing: The restaurant’s searingly spicy kua gling ground pork is abundant with aromatics and alliums, and the dtom som shrimp combines seafood with meaty oyster mushrooms in a broth pleasingly sour with tamarind and ginger.

Cody Auger’s Southeast Hawthorne sushi counter has become nationally acclaimed for Edomae-style sushi: delicate, cured slivers of fish, potent and pristine in flavor and texture. The chefs here introduce so many nuances of each fish that are often lost: cold-smoked, salt-and-pepper-cured saba is salty and sweet and smoky in individual acts. Hotate from Northwestern Japan gets a spritz of yuzu, its perfume-y citrus complementing the creaminess of the scallop. And, outside the world of seafood, A5 wagyu is hit with a hand torch so the fat renders silken, but doesn’t cook; the result is a delicate, decadent bite of beef that’s hard to forget. Reservations for the restaurant’s omakase are available via Resy.

The shelves of this candlelit Burnside restaurant support bottles of fine olive oil and canned tomatoes, the foundations of the understated-yet-intricate pasta dishes that emerge from its kitchen. Meals start with antipasti, in particular an array of surprisingly spiced marinated vegetables and pickles — mushrooms are juicy with a hint of cinnamon in the brine, for instance. Octopus is meaty and savory with lovely char, with olives providing an oceanic murmur. From there, a parade of pastas show range: Fettuccine arrives coated in a thick, dreamy lemon cream, almost a Bizarro World alfredo, while perfectly al dente radiatori collect bits of saffron-scented lamb among their folds. Visitors should not miss the restaurant’s cabbage, charred within an inch of its life with a custardy center.

Each day, during lunch hours, Alberta locals line up at this orange-and-green cart in pursuit of chiles en nogada stuffed with ground pork and bowls of lipstick-red pozole, accompanied by prickly pear agua fresca and horchata. The cart’s menu is extensive, with everything from soy curl burritos to cochinita pibil, but it should be no surprise that this cart’s particular specialty is its moles: A sweet and nutty mole negro, an herbaceous and vegetal mole verde. The cart’s fuchsia mole rosa, a rarity at Portland Mexican restaurants made with earthy beets and hibiscus flowers, is available as a coating for tender enchiladas or simply paired with fresh salmon, a smart choice of protein for the sweet-earthy beet sauce. The artful plating — colorful ceramic bowls, garnished with flowers — sets each dish over the top, making this one of the city’s finest Mexican carts.

Han Oak has shape-shifted throughout its tenure in Kerns, but its latest iterations exude the relaxed, convivial intimacy that has made the restaurant a favorite both among the city’s locals and on the national stage. The style of service changes seasonally — in the winters, House-made broth, fortified with scrap from shabu-shabu-esque meats, bubbles in enameled cast iron perched on a tableside gas burner; diners pick out petals of house corned beef or short rib to cook in the broth themselves, alongside produce like Oregon-grown enoki and chrysanthemum greens that subtly flavor the broth as it simmers. In the summers, the vibe shifts to a DIY gimbap party: Chef Peter Cho snaps open cans of Cass with dish rags while servers deliver platters of house dry-aged and/or marinated meats for guests to wrap into hand rolls, karaoke on deck as visitors pick at banchan like a house-brined corned beef soo yook. Everything is expertly executed, but the sense of simple fun is never lost — the core tenet of a successful Portland restaurant.

At this intimate pintxo bar, Javier and Jael Canteras have developed a reputation for straight-up goofy dishes winking at Northern Spanish flavors, like a bikini (ham and cheese sandwich) made with American and jamon serrano, or an octopus a la brasa with chorizo XO. Still, the traditional Spanish dishes on the menu remain true to the originals, whether it’s crispy-on-the-outside, gooey-on-the-inside croquetas de jamon, or a blackened slice of Basque cheesecake. The restaurant’s selection of vermouth and sherry would make any Iberian proud.

Going to this Southeast Division Southeast Asian restaurant always feels like a party, from the first popping boba Jell-O shot to the Fruity Pebble rice crispy treat eaten on the way out. In a funky dining room decked out in marine wallpaper, diners dunk impossibly flaky roti canai in an earthy squash curry, slurp decadent laksa broth from a bowl piled with rice noodles and shrimp, and gnaw on baby back ribs sticky with fish sauce caramel. However, the true move here is to order anything out of the charcoal oven, in particular the succulent, lacquered char siu, available as a platter or as the star of the wonton mee.

Think of this Creston-Kenilworth cafe as the platonic ideal of a brunch place. The light eaters will find gorgeous avocado toasts, layered with watermelon radish and meyer lemon tahini. Folks on the go can order hearty breakfast sandwiches and burritos, ones stuffed with house-made breakfast sausage and roasted garlic potatoes, respectively. And those looking for luxury can order Benedicts topped with Dungeness crab, drenched in white truffle hollandaise and a sprinkling of edible flowers. Every dish is shockingly intricate — huevos rancheros balance birria de res with the brightness of aji amarillo crema and salsa verde, with a rich and silky foundation of refried beans. Beyond breakfast, the restaurant has even gotten into dinner territory, offering prix fixe winemaker dinners and tasting menus — dinners involve everything from scallop crudo with carrot aguachile and grapefruit granita to roasted chanterelle and oyster mushroom lasagana.

Tucked into a mini strip mall on Southeast Powell, Rose VL is the cheerful sister restaurant to Ha VL, serving those famous traditional Vietnamese soups with unending depth. Two to three different soups or noodles are served daily, along with brace-yourself strong Vietnamese iced coffee. Portlanders often flock on Saturday for cao lầu, a regional Vietnamese noodle dish with herbs and a tangy, savory sauce. However, it is simply impossible to go wrong, regardless of the soups available any given day.

Portland’s status as a pizza city is, frankly, not worthy of debate any longer; enough international pizza experts have confirmed our pizzaiolos are world class. As such, standing out within an already saturated, talent-packed market is difficult. And yet, this unassuming cart off Northeast Sandy, run by Roberto Hernandez Guerrero, adds a fresh, meticulous voice to the city’s pizza scene, one that takes an exceptional crust — Neapolitan in approach, soft and char-kissed with a good rise — and combines it with a Latin American culinary palette. The genius appears on the specials board: black garlic supporting the gentle funk of local huitlacoche, a corn smut grown in Gresham; nutty Oaxacan mole rojo juxtaposed with a mild huancaina; chorizo and corn over a comforting poblano crema. And still, the cart’s simple, cheery margherita is a simple pleasure, missing nothing.

In a neighborhood littered with exceptional Vietnamese and Chinese food, Jin Jin has consistently churned out fine-tuned versions of both for decades. Here, visitors grab takeout containers of salted fish fried rice or bánh bột chiên, fried rice flour cakes, from an unassuming cafe space in a Montavilla strip mall. Many of the dishes on the menu are reliably delicious, but Jin Jin’s hủ tiếu sa tế bò — spicy sate beef noodle soup — is what really earns Jin Jin a spot on this map. It is a masterpiece: Ribbons of thinly-shaved beef and wide rice noodles peek out of the depths of a nutty broth scented with five spice, supporting fresh herbs, bean sprouts, and greens.