Hugo’s is famous throughout the northeastern US for three of its menus — the four-course menu for $65, the eight-course menu for $90, and the eight- to twelve-course chef’s menu (specially planned and prepared for each table with 24 hours’ notice) for $120. We Portlanders should take a better look at its fourth — a bar menu where you can try chef Rob Evans’s creations a la carte for between four and twelve bucks.
Evans’s cooking perches at the intersection of three of contemporary cuisine’s most celebrated trends — one (sort of) French, one American, and one Spanish. Evans once cooked under Thomas Keller at the French Laundry in California. Keller, who is probably the most renowned chef in America today, does a rarified version of country-French cooking that shows up on Hugo’s menu, but often with unexpected ingredients. The menu is American in its emphasis on the freshest local ingredients acquired from local organic farms. Most strikingly, it is Spanish in that Evans has embraced the experimental and whimsical approach to cooking that was made famous by Ferran Adria at his restaurant El Bulli in Spain. The result of this unique conglomeration of influences is something that might be described as down-home avant garde.
So at Hugo’s you need to expect the unexpected, which is why I wasn’t surprised to see something called “Homemade ‘Fritos’ with warm smoked tomato mousse” on the menu. Here is what surprised me: when I had finished off the few ounces of the light, foamy sweet, complex and deeply smoky (the smoke hits you about 10 seconds after you swallow) sauce, the bartender noticed and asked if I wanted to “reload” my mousse. Reload my mousse?! It was like El Bulli meets Olive Garden, in the best possible way.
That seems typical of the bar at Hugo’s, which has a surprisingly casual and comfortable feel for a place reputed to be so exclusive. Evans makes food to talk about, which is one of the reasons that Hugo’s is better suited to a special meal than a special occasion. If you go on your anniversary you won’t spend the night gazing into each other’s eyes and talking about your years together. You will scrutinize the dollop of mustard-infused oats under your glazed pork belly, and try to figure out how they got that color. One of the pleasures of sitting at the bar is hearing others talking about it — starting with your server. The staff at Hugo’s is so unpretentiously knowledgeable about the food that it is nice to have them nearby as you figure things out.
Another person you might hear from is Evans himself. On slow nights he sits at the bar working out new menus, joking and gossiping with the regulars, employees, and ex-employees at the bar. He seems happy to field questions about what you are eating. When Evans runs off to the kitchen, regulars will pop up and check his notepad to get a hint of what he might be planning. When one customer wonders where a stack of magazines went, Evans fake-growls “forget the magazines — pay attention to the food!” When co-owner Nancy Pugh has had enough of her dessert she passes it off to another regular. “She saw me eyeballing it,” explains the recipient.
Since there are lots of interesting and inexpensive wines by the glass, the bar at Hugo’s turns out to be a surprisingly accessible place to stop in for a drink and some food. The servings are not big, it’s true — but they are not that much smaller than at Bar Lola, where the prices are similar. There were enough of the truffle and parmesan gougeres — which were rendered as a funny little pellet-shaped finger food, both pillowy and a touch creamy — to be a nice snack for two with wine. The two squares of verjus-glazed pork belly — sweet, crispy edged, and impossibly tender — probably had the fat content of most dishes three times its size.
Hugo’s is famous for being unique, and it is — right up to your last bite of warm dark chocolate cake (ubiquitous) with a green coffee foam (rare, bitter, vegetal, and great with the cake). The chance to chat up one of the country’s best chefs while you eat his food is rarer still. The bar menu and the bar’s easy atmosphere make the rare and the unique surprisingly accessible. We should take advantage of it.
