Learning there was a bona fide Polish restaurant in Portland was terribly exciting. I’ve been craving the real deal. I’m not a good cook and my puny imitations of the good Polish meals I grew up eating pale in comparison.
Chef Boyfriend — always thrilled to tag along — and I stopped by Bogusha’s Polish Restaurant & Deli last Tuesday afternoon for a late lunch. I made sure I was starving, so I could consume as much real Polish food as possible.
You can’t help but notice the mannequin dressed in Polish garb the minute you walk in the door. She welcomes you with pale, stone-faced Polish pride. To her left is the grocery store part of the venue where you’ll find everything from fruit juice to salami sticks to what might be a compilation of erotic stories written in Polish.
To the right of — let’s call her — Blanka is a little cafe with three tables that seat four. Each table has a doily and fake plant. The windows are draped with matching doily curtains and the walls are a pleasant turquoise and yellow with white trim. Polish rave music was the cake’s icing in our exotic Polish luncheon.
And then there was the food. (Let’s forget, for a moment, that Blanka stares at you while you eat.) Chef Boyfriend ordered krokiet ($6), which is a deep fried crepe with ground meat and sauerkraut wrapped in a thin breaded pancake with a cup of red borsch. I wanted everything on the menu. The closest thing to ordering that was the Polish platter ($9.50), which came with two perogis, a golombki, kielbasa and bigos (a stew of cabbage, sauerkraut, kielbasa and ham).
And I ate every single bite. It tasted just like Gramma used to make. I could have complained that my meal was lukewarm, but I didn’t because, well, I didn’t want to give it back. And so what if we never got the waters we asked for. I’m guessing that may have been a language barrier thing, as I’m not fluent in the Polish language and neither is Chef Boyfriend.
The krokiet was a delicious, delicious dish, but a little small for the boy. He’s big and needs more nourishment. Too bad I refused to share my very full plate. Well, I gave him one bite, since he let me taste the borsch, which to my delight was quite good. I’ve never been much of a beet eater, but that borsch, oh lordy, was delish.
The dinner menu, which I’ll soon be ordering from, has more tasty options including schabowy (pork chops), gulasz (slow-cooked beef in gravy over potato pancakes) and kurczak (chicken breast breaded with Polish spices, then sauteed and served with potatoes and salad). Next visit, I’ll be getting pyzy z miesem — don’t ask me how to pronounce it — and I’ll be sitting in the corner table where Blanka can’t stare at me.
— Amy Martin