Snow at Simpatica

You know things are hairy when your plane lands and everyone starts clapping. As we touched down into Portland, Oregon for Christmas at the in-laws, the visibility was so poor that we didn't know we were on the ground......until we were on the ground. Oregon is currently experiencing the biggest snowfall in forty years, which as far as I'm concerned is utterly wonderful and beautiful. It's re-igniting childhood fantasies of sleds on powder-soft snow, or giant snowmen with coal for belly-buttons.

I've eaten some great food since I've been here. Getting to Sel Gris was in itself a mission - cars in the Pacific Northwest are not designed for freezing rain and fifteen inches of cold snap - but once there it was well worth it. Being one of only five tables that had braved the weather to meet their reservations, the kitchen had plenty of time to produce excellent food for us. The place describes itself as 'bistro-style' which I would query - the waiting staff were far too formal to be 'bistro' and the food, although interesting, was much more contemporary than I would expect of a bistro affair. My Lyonnaise Salad was deconstructed to the extent that the wonderful braised, smoked bacon was placed on the side, and poached duck egg was served on top of some warmed Frisee. The signature French salt was a fantastic touch on the egg. Don't get me wrong - it was delicious - but to my mind, not bistro. The place borders on becoming pretentious, and I've no doubt that head chef Daniel Mondok has deliberately kept a leash on his creative instincts as he is aware that great food is ultimately very simple. Technically, the food was brilliant. The flavours were great. But for me - and I must stress that everyone else at the table loved the place - it didn't feel entirely whole.

At the other end of the scale is Simpatica. This was a dining experience that I enjoyed thoroughly. Christmas Eve brunch - a rare hanger steak, eggs over easy and a celeriac gratin - was utterly fantastic. The beef had a beautiful flavour and was tender although very bloody and the gratin was an inspired variation on the classic gratin dauphinoise. But the real clincher about Simpatica was the setting: the basement of an industrial warehouse, kitchen completely open, cooks in jeans and t-shirts, waitresses with big hearts and relaxed smiles. It felt somehow more real - and less forced. It felt as if someone was cooking purely for the love of cooking and letting the ingredients, many of them smoked and cured on the site of Simpatica's sister enterprise Viande Meats & Sausage, speak for themselves. It could have been the early morning bloody mary, but I felt utterly at home.

This is a key concept about good food. You must feel at home. If you're cooking for friends, cook what you crave, not what you think is expected. Don't go overboard - or do, if that's what you want. Take it easy. Relax.

A good book that puts this idea far more succinctly than I was given to me yesterday as a gift. It's called Roast Chicken and Other Stories. Give it a go if you get a chance.