Pizzaiolo Craig Melillo slings sourdough pies and top-notch ice cream out of this small St. Johns pizzeria, often selling out before the night ends. Tangy, char-dotted crusts support thin sheets of mortadella or house-pickled accoutrement, served alongside pints of flavors like amarena cherry or tahini chip. Melillo is 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. 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 pickled beets and rye crumbs, or cuttlefish with brown butter and electric green spring peas, are the ones that keep St. Jack at top-of-mind when thinking about special occasion restaurants. St. Jack is open for indoor and heated outdoor dining; reservations are recommended.

Ringside is Portland’s essential 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: Diners 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.

It’s not just that República makes the city’s finest quesadilla, tri-colored masa folded over salty-stretchy quesillo with a side of nutty salsa macha. It’s not just that República’s tasting menu involves ingenious dishes like chanterelle adobo risotto with refried and nixtamalized beans. It’s not just that each server explains the ideation, culinary lineage, and historical context for each dish. It’s that República truly feels like a team effort, creative culinary minds coming up with a full day’s worth of excellence — from morning conchas to evening moles. It’s open for takeout and onsite dining during the day, with indoor and outdoor dining for dinner (proof of vaccination required).

In a pizza cafe that feels casual but intimate, pizzaiola Sarah Minnick embraces paradoxes beautifully: She took something brimming with childhood charm — pizza and ice cream — and gave it a high-end twist. Seasonally rotating pizzas are a garden of edible flowers and mushrooms, atop an airy-but-sturdy pizza dough made with Oregon whole grains. If someone is defining Portland’s distinct pizza style, it’s Minnick. She takes pre-orders for pizzas, with instructions available via her Instagram; the restaurant is also open for dine-in.

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 destination restaurant: 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 acid and sweetness. And the pisco sours feel like they’re shipped straight from Lima, best sipped on Casa Zoraya’s back patio. The restaurant is open for indoor dining, outdoor dining, and takeout.

In a nondescript lot off Albina, Kabba Saidikhan quietly serves exceptional Senegalese and Gambian dishes out of a black-and-silver food cart. Flaky fataya (meat pies) satisfyingly stretch and tear apart to reveal a core of intricately spiced ground beef, while acid-laden, whole-fish yassa derives balance from a bed of yellow rice. The cart’s mafe yapp, a creamy tomato-peanut stew with tender hunks of beef, is particularly well complemented by the shop’s bissap. The cart is open for takeout and delivery, with a few tables onsite.

In a bright yellow cart parked outside East Coast sandwich shop Lottie & Zula’s, Erica Montgomery tosses wings in maple barbecue sauce, smothers chicken thighs in mushroom gravy, and tops grits with gouda and roasted tomatoes. Here, Portlanders will find staples like crispy-fried catfish, black-eyed peas, and boiled peanuts, though Montgomery caught the attention of greater Portland thanks to her Atlanta-style hot lemon pepper wings: One bite into a crispy-but-saucy wing induces a tangy pop of acid, blended with a gentle-but-present heat that coats the mouth. The cart’s Buffalo bacon ranch wings cling to that same acid with a nice touch of smoky, porky flavor. But if the wings are off the menu, savvy diners should nab a box of those tender chicken thighs drenched in rosemary-heavy gravy, with a scoop of textbook-tasty mac and cheese. Erica’s Soul Food is 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. One meal is enough to feed four, and make no mistake: This is some of Portland’s finest soul food.

Returning to the Berlu dining room after more than a year away feels, in many ways, like coming full circle. Tame Impala still plays on the speakers; the same little pillows hide in the nooks of the banquette. However, the menu now incorporates the context of Vince Nguyen’s last two years of cooking, exploring Vietnamese ingredients and dishes through his various pop-ups and pivots. Silken tofu custard arrives studded with pieces of fresh durian, geoduck, and little caramelized petals of lychee. Tiny lobster meatballs, peppery and juicy, float in a sweet broth, surrounded by luscious tendon and orange balls of squash. And for dessert, a charcoal-grilled bánh bò nướng, springy and almost savory; diners dunk the cake in a pandan-steeped, reduced, and smoked coconut milk, a decadent dollop of caviar and swirl of fig leaf oil floating on top. Berlu is open for tasting menu service indoors with proof of vaccination, as well as Sunday bakery service for takeout.

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 blending 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.

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, with outdoor tables onsite.

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.

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

This Southeast Hawthorne sushi counter has become a national destination for Edomae-style sushi: delicate, cured slivers of fish, potent and pristine in flavor and texture. Any visit may involve golden, buttery Bafun uni, or bracingly briny cured mackerel, or albacore marinated with garlic and shoyu. The restaurant’s stellar omakase experience has returned, with limited reservations available via Resy; the restaurant also offers a la carte meals for walk-ins.

When Jacqueline opened on Southeast Clinton, it slowly became known as a Pacific Northwestern seafood restaurant, a place for $1 oysters and Dungeness crab toast. Both are still available at Jacqueline today — the former during happy hour, the latter on the dinner menu. However, Jacqueline treats its seasonal produce with the same care and focus as its McFarland Springs trout or scallop crudo. A charred bite of pineapple mimics the sear on a slice of albacore; the pop of a pickled shiitake stands up to a smoked black cod; a lightly juniper-cured salmon benefits from the earthiness of charred beets. The restaurant is open for onsite dining, with proof of vaccination.

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 well-suited to the restaurant’s 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 sporting 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 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. After a hiatus, Magna reopened with a new menu format that holds space for both the supremely casual and the festive, whether it’s a skewer of charcoal-grilled quail, a whole fried branzino cradling sweet-and-sour vegetables, or calamansi-scented sisig with silken egg. Magna is open for onsite dining.

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 crispy-on-the-outside, gooey-on-the-inside croquetas de jamon, or a blackened slice of Basque cheesecake. Urdaneta is open for indoor dining with proof of vaccination, and outdoor dining for walk-ins.

The fried chicken sandwiches at Jojo have become the stuff of legend, hypebeast towers of crunchy chicken topped with everything from Alabama white sauce to pepper relish. However, often the simplest dishes at Jojo are the team’s finest: the cart’s namesake jojos are crispy with mashed-potato filling, often gleefully dipped in house ranch. Jojo is open for takeout, with onsite dining at the pod.

During the pandemic, 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 — particularly for its elaborate, prix fixe, “rice table” service. Here, globes of crispy panipuri cradle pickled cucumber and shallots, house-made siu mai are crowned with seasoned trout roe, and flaky roti canai sops up coconut-sweet beef rendang. It’s open for onsite dining, on the patio or indoors; proof of vaccination is required.

Kim Jong Grillin, a Korean cart that has probably earned its spot in the city’s hall of food cart fame, still nails every “bibim box” it sells, from the lightly charred japchae to the lipstick-red kimchi. The sleeper hit, however, is its KJG hot dog, an Olympia Provisions hot dog topped with sesame sprouts, spicy daikon, kimchi mayo, and pickled mango. Han Ly Hwang, the cart’s owner, has been slinging bulgogi and kimchi fried rice for free on and off throughout the pandemic, feeding food insecure and unemployed restaurant workers. Kim Jong Grillin is open for takeout and delivery.

Alkebulan Moroski is 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 and onsite dining.

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 methodical 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.

Most of the carts at Portland Mercado, the colorful Latin American food cart pod in Foster-Powell, could earn a spot among Portland’s best restaurants; still, Tierra Del Sol’s complex moles and sloppy-delicious tlayudas — smothered fried tortillas with beans — stand out. Chef Amalia Sierra left a career as a social worker for migrant farm workers to focus on her family business, which serves meticulously balanced Oaxacan specialties. No visit is complete without mole amarillo; its elusively layered spice is hard to forget. Tierra del Sol is open for takeout from both the original cart and its spot in the food hall Rocket Empire Machine; Portland Mercado offers outdoor seating, as well.

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. It’s available for takeout or dine-in.

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 consomé, 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. Birrieria La Plaza remains open for takeout.