Pizzaiolo Craig Melillo doesn’t just make his own dough — a slow-fermented sourdough using Pacific Northwestern grain — for his pizzas; he makes his own mozzarella. Gracie’s, a small pizzeria in St. Johns, makes tangy and distinct pies with char-dotted crusts and house-pickled accoutrement, served alongside pints of house-made ice cream in flavors like amarena cherry or tahini chip. Melillo a humble and extremely talented guy, but he doesn’t make a big fuss about being noticed — that’s part of what makes his food feel so special: It’s something people get to discover. Gracie’s is open for takeout, with outdoor dining in a shared patio space.

Nothing feels as celebratory as a meal at St. Jack, where diners marvel at beautiful plates in a humming dining room, glasses of Champagne still bubbling on tables indoors and out. Here, diners will find owner Aaron Barnett’s take on French cuisine, now aided by the mind of chef John Denison. 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 dishes like mushroom vol-au-vent topped with a bouquet of lettuces and nasturtium, or beef tartare with sunchokes and green peppercorn sabayon, or escargot in seaweed butter are the ones that keep St. Jack at top-of-mind when thinking about celebratory Portland restaurants. St. Jack is open indoor and heated outdoor dining.

Ringside is Portland’s quintessential steakhouse, serving slabs of beef and James Beard’s beloved onion rings since 1944. Its cozy dining room — replete with fireplaces, burgundy booths, and white tablecloths — screams steakhouse, and the menu echoes the same: Dinners start with prawn cocktail or an iceberg wedge, maybe a bowl of French onion soup encrusted with gruyere. Dry-aged rib-eyes or buttery filet mignon sit next to a gargantuan pile of garlic mashed potatoes, drenched in bearnaise or lavish foie gras butter. Prime rib comes with the customary Yorkshire pudding and fresh horseradish, perhaps with a decadent addition of lobster mashed potatoes. But the real draw of Ringside is likely its roster of career servers — the restaurant is home to the city’s finest service, from the first Old Fashioned to the last glass of pinot. It’s open for indoor and outdoor dining, plus takeout.

Mucca harkens back to an era of dining — and a caliber of service — hard to find in contemporary Portland, where servers in ties and vests refill water glasses after a sip or two, where dishes meant to be shared are split and plated per person without a second thought, where a bowl of warm focaccia lands on the table just a few moments after diners place their orders. But service is nothing if the food can’t deliver, and Mucca delivers in spades: Ribbons of 500-day prosciutto di parma snugly encase a mound of burrata, a wild-tasting quail leans on a crisp polenta cake and a sprinkle of smoked paprika olive oil powder, a seared scallop sitting on a swipe of parmesan fondue plays pedestal to a dollop of caramelized shallots and garlic blossoms. The restaurant is open for indoor dining on white tablecloths, with proof of vaccination.

In a casual former taproom, Duck House has finally provided Portland with a dreamy Chinese restaurant in the heart of the city. Since his 2016 arrival, San Diego chef Ivan Liu has played with heat and aromatics like a master, from delicate wontons with savory chile-oil-spiked broth to tingly dan dan noodles with borderline-bitter bite. The restaurant is open for takeout and delivery.

In a bright, beautifully appointed hole-in-the-wall venue near Powell's Books, Kristen D. Murray delivers exactly what Portland didn't know it needed: an incredibly charming "pastry luncheonette" that focuses equal attention on sweets and savory fare. Now, Murray is serving her delicate black pepper cheesecakes, warm Meyer lemon pudding cakes, and artfully adorned open-faced sandwiches in an outdoor dining space. The restaurant is also open for takeout — it’s best to eat the restaurant’s rich cones of chocolat capuchin while strolling around downtown Portland. Note: On winter break until February 8.

When identifying Portland’s “essential” restaurants, it seems only fitting to include Murata, the unassuming Japanese restaurant downtown. Since 1988, Portlanders have stepped into its tatami room for dinners of miso soup and tonkatsu and broiled mackerel, pots of soothing zosui filled with ribbons of egg, chirashi adorned with generous slices of salmon and sweet scallop. Murata is old-school in the best way, a style of Japanese restaurant becoming rarer and rarer with time; sitting in its dining room, mulling over a pile of crispy tempura or chicken teriyaki, induces a reinvigorating nostalgia hard to find elsewhere. Murata is open for onsite dining and takeout.

In a pizza cafe that feels casual but intimate, pizzaiola Sarah Minnick embraces paradoxes beautifully: She took something brimming with childhood nostalgia — pizza and ice cream — and gave it a high-end twist. Seasonally rotating pizzas arrive strewn with edible flowers and chanterelles atop an airy-but-sturdy pizza dough made with Oregon whole grains. Portland may not be known for its pies, but if someone is defining Portland’s distinct pizza style, it’s Minnick. She takes pre-orders for pizzas; the instructions can be found on her Instagram.

In a nondescript lot off Albina, Kabba Saidikhan quietly serves exceptional Senegalese and Gambian dishes out of a black-and-silver food cart, from flaky fataya (meat pies) that satisfyingly stretch and tear apart to reveal a core of intricately spiced ground beef, to an acid-laden, whole-fish yassa, balanced with the addition of yellow rice. The cart’s mafe yapp, a creamy tomato-peanut stew with tender hunks of beef, is particularly nice paired with the shop’s bissap. The cart is open for takeout and delivery.

Eem is a restaurant born out of collaboration, an amalgamation of Matt Vicedomini’s smoked meats, Earl Ninsom’s curries and salads, Colin Yoshimoto’s snacks and fried chicken, and Eric Nelson’s lively drinks. The resulting menu feels like it truly and cohesively shares those voices, with burnt ends simmering in a sweet coconut milk curry in one of the restaurant’s most beloved dishes. But beyond the menu, Eem feels like a place that treats every employee and customer with respect, a warm spot in a cold city that still feels relaxed when nothing feels relaxing. It’s open for takeout.

This red food cart and its massive “#Loaded” sign attracts hoards of customers as soon as it opens. Owner Kiauna Nelson and her staff load up gargantuan containers of saucy-and-smoky pot roast and garlicky macaroni and cheese; the menu changes per Nelson’s whim, and her fans usually go along with whatever she feels like serving. There’s a reason for that: Nelson’s food evokes 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. Plus, Nelson has consistently offered free food to her neighbors throughout the pandemic via her Feed Black Portland events. One meal is enough to feed four, and make no mistake: This is some of Portland’s finest soul food.

The original carts are gone, but Nong's Khao Man Gai’s restaurant space on SE Ankeny is still kicking, despite everything. Chef Nong Poonsukwattana’s signature dish, a deceptively simple take on Hainanese chicken, takes center stage here: Ask five acolytes their favorite part of the dish and each will offer a different answer: the soul-satisfying broth, the 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. Nong’s is open for onsite dining, takeout, and delivery.

Gabriel Rucker, in his years at Le Pigeon (and, on occasion, Canard and the now-closed Little Bird), often molds the casual or unexpected into a fine dining format, from fried chicken to coconut shrimp; it made him uniquely prepared for the “pandemic pivot,” with his “bird boxes” of takeout and meal kits. When Le Pigeon returned, it dabbled in a few different iterations of itself, but the restaurant has settled into its new form, one that is perhaps surprising to those who know Rucker and the restaurant: Le Pigeon is no longer offering an a la carte menu, no longer serving burgers at its bar. Instead, it has become a tasting menu only restaurant, which was, after all, the best way to enjoy Le Pigeon in the old days. Still, Rucker is a master at combining the best of both worlds: A single menu may include “duck in a blanket” with chanterelle mushrooms, “orange chicken” made with rainier cherries, and a dessert of Rucker’s legendary foie gras profiteroles. Tasting menus are available vegetarian, as well, for indoor dining by reservation only; proof of vaccination or negative COVID-19 test required.

Twenty-somethings 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 nods at the restaurant’s vaguely oceanic theme, which the kitchen enforces with dishes like Pacific Northwestern oysters with horseradish granita, or a scallop-shrimp ceviche swimming in an aromatic coconut-pineapple leche de tigre. Surprisingly, some of Normandie’s most memorable dishes rely on land-locked ingredients, from spare ribs that easily release from the bone in a silk glove of maple-bourbon glaze, to a miso deviled egg with a filling whipped smooth and dusted with furikake. Then again, those eggs come with just a few dots of tobiko — a little briny touch never hurt anyone, after all. Normandie is open for indoor and outdoor dining (proof of vaccination required for indoor seats), as well as takeout. Note: Normandie will be on winter break until January 20.

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 with hardcore devotees. Hat Yai’s shallot-fried chicken, salty and fragrant and just a touch sticky, pairs beautifully 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 pairs seafood with meaty oyster mushrooms in a broth pleasingly sour with tamarind and ginger. Hat Yai is open for takeout, with outdoor seating available.

Chef Cody Auger’s SE Hawthorne sushi counter has become a national destination for Edomae-style sushi: meticulously cured and delicate slivers of fish, potent and pristine in flavor and texture. During the pandemic, Auger transitioned his restaurant into a more takeout and delivery-accessible format, which means the restaurant’s salt-and-vinegar-cured salmon and wild bluefin tuna can arrive alongside maki filled with things like crispy salmon skin, mackerel, and natto. However, the restaurant’s stellar omakase experience has also returned, with limited reservations available via Resy.

There is so much that feels revolutionary about Mirisata: It’s one of Portland’s few collectively owned restaurants, serving vegan Sri Lankan food; Sri Lankan food is already an under-represented cuisine in Portland, let alone a version that is animal-product-free. The restaurant’s soft string hoppers (essentially pucks made of noodles) sop up sweet, caramelized seeni sambol, as well as a soothing red lentil dal and an earthy potato curry. The restaurant’s string kottu, a sort of stir-fry noodle with veggies and vegan egg, is comforting and best paired with a jackfruit curry. And the parippu vada, crispy fritters filled with split pigeon peas, are absolutely dreamy when dunked in the accompanying green chile sauce. Weekend visitors who can order off the rice-and-curry menu are in for a real treat, banana leaves piled with oyster mushroom curry and deviled sweet potatoes. Mirisata is open for onsite dining and takeout.

When the highly anticipated Filipino restaurant Magna opened in 2019, it was a great restaurant, one that got better every visit with silky squid ink noodles slick in crab fat, homey bowls of pancit bihon, and a sweet and gently charred biko, or coconut sticky rice. But it seems that chef and owner Carlo Lamagna reaches a new level each time his restaurant passes an anniversary, not just as a chef but as a leader. In 2020, he sold takeout containers of porky lechon, bright purple ube cookies with neon-green pandan frosting, and a supremely tender and saucy brisket kaldereta, setting aside a portion of his takeout profits every week to give back to the community. This year, after a hiatus, Magna reopened with a new menu format that holds space for both the supremely casual and the celebratory, whether it’s a skewer of charcoal-grilled rib-eye, a take on duck dinuguan that turns the blood-laden stew into a deep sauce, or a kare kare that swaps the peanut sauce for a butter made with roasted pumpkin seeds. Magna is open for onsite dining. Note: Magna will be closed until January 13.

At this intimate pintxo bar, Javier and Jael Canteras have developed a reputation for straight-up goofy dishes winking at Northern Spanish staples, like a ham-and-cheese sandwich made with jamon serrano and American. Still, the traditional Spanish dishes on the menu remain true to the originals, whether it’s a confit potato tortilla Española or a blackened slice of Basque-style cheesecake. Urdaneta is open for takeout.

The Pisha-Dufflys have gone through a lot during the course of the pandemic: Mariah Pisha-Duffly and Tom Pisha-Duffly, the couple at the center of eclectic Indonesian restaurant Gado Gado, opened a second restaurant, had a baby, and lost Tom’s grandmother and father, all while weathering the challenges of working in the food service industry in 2020. It is astounding, more than anything, that they pulled off what they did: Gado Gado’s colorful takeout stand and patio became a welcoming and cheery respite during a grueling year. Now, the a la carte staples have moved over to Oma’s Hideaway, and Gado Gado has evolved into a true celebration restaurant: The restaurant hinges on an elaborate, prix fixe, “rice table” service, with globes of crispy panipuri cradling sweet corn and shallots, shrimp in lobster broth with brown butter and pineapple, and Gado Gado legends like its roti canai and coconut-sweet beef rendang. It’s open for onsite dining, on the patio or indoors; proof of vaccination is required for all visitors 12 years or older.

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 first generation Vietnamese American chef from California. Thus, his food is a representation of that identity: He recreates fast food classics like Filet-O-Fish with Thai chili tartar sauce and breakfast sandwiches on pandan milk buns, while also making dishes his mom, aunt, and grandmother made while he was a kid, like thit kho, a caramel-y pork belly reined in with a hit of fish sauce. Le is a deeply casual, instantly likeable chef, and his dishes reflect his creativity, charm, and honesty. Matta is open for takeout.

When Malka opened at the worst possible time — the beginning of 2020 — it was clear it would be something special. Jessie Aron and Colin McArthur created an otherworldly space in which they concoct mystifying, maximalist dishes, including an unforgettable matzo ball khao soi. Despite its brutally difficult first year, Malka surprises us again and again: Employees like Eli Goldberg spent off-hours working with mutual aid networks. The restaurant donated meals to food insecure diners on a day-to-day basis. And the meals themselves remained dazzlingly intricate, like a Umi ramen curry bolognese with stir-fried Brussels sprouts, or a mac and cheese with traces of berbere and vermouth. Malka is open for takeout.

Dirty Lettuce’s Alkebulan Moroski is meticulous and exacting with the meat-free proteins at their vegan restaurant, Dirty Lettuce: The chef goes down to the very foundations of the protein structure, mimicking the balance of fat and muscle that gives chicken its juiciness or pork ribs that “fall off the bone” quality. But at the core of Dirty Lettuce is an allegiance to the true Southern classics, be it a Cajun mac and cheese that boggles the mind with its faux sausage, or a fried “chicken” with a crackly skin indistinguishable from the real thing. The mission is to make vegan comfort food that feels true to the original, in an effort to get people more interested in eating less meat — non-judgmental, but still intent on excellence. And trust us: Eating those sour cream and onion mashed potatoes won’t feel like any sort of sacrifice, even without the dairy. Dirty Lettuce is open for takeout. Note: Dirty Lettuce will be closed, excluding limited heat-and-serve meals for pre-order, until January 14.

Hawthorne’s no-frills pizza cafe still produces some of the town’s best pies. Brian Spangler shows respect for his dough, refusing to overload his crisp, quick-fired crusts with more toppings than they can handle. Thankfully, there's no need for DIY concoctions given the pizzeria's meticulous equation of sauce, fresh mozzarella, pecorino romano, and, in the case of the Pizza Amore, salty capicola scattered on top. Apizza Scholls is open for takeout or delivery.

Tucked into a mini strip mall on SE 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 for takeout daily, along with brace-yourself strong Vietnamese iced coffee. Portlanders often flock on Saturday for cao lầu, a regional Vietnamese noodle dish with piles of herbs and a tangy, savory sauce. It’s open for takeout, onsite dining, and delivery.

In one of the most talent-packed restaurant alcoves off SE 82nd, this Vietnamese restaurant — with its line of shiny Vespas near the counter — has no formal menu; instead, customers walk up and order pho (chicken or beef) or the restaurant’s namesake dish, bún bò Huế. Pros know to go for the latter, extra spicy: In a dark-but-pristine broth, meaty pork knuckles, thin ribbons of beef and pork shank, and slippery rice noodles swim below a floating layer of alliums, joined by the accompanying mound of herbs and vegetables. Bún bò Huế is a perfectly multifaceted dish, with the soprano notes of lemongrass and mint given body with the brooding flavors of pork blood and beef bones; Teo makes the city’s best. It’s open for indoor dining, takeout, and delivery.

This Chinese restaurant in Southeast Portland is as casual as they come, but the dishes that roll out of Amy and Kang Zhu’s kitchen are deftly executed and profoundly flavorful — juicy pork dumplings lovingly made by hand, the interplay of ginger and pork in a bowl of congee, and the pile of herbs tucked into a jianbing keep the memory of a meal at Master Kong in mind long after it’s finished. Master Kong is open for takeout and delivery.

Tijuana-style quesabirria, a cheesy take on the braised beef dish birria de res, is a national sensation for a reason: Melty, gooey, and sometimes crispy cheese is objectively delicious when paired with a slow-braised beef. But Birrieria La Plaza, the truck serving crisp and cheesy vampiros, takeaway cups of steamy consomme, and plates of snug tacos topped with scattered cilantro and onions, is so much more than a cart capitalizing on a trend; the tacos coming out of this cart could be some of the city’s best — the foundational birria is a gently spicy and grounded masterpiece. Birrieria La Plaza remains open for takeout.