Moving On

BY NEIL FERGUSON

The journey of Papi Sal’s started when John Hatch and his partner Jess Mummery opened their food cart in 2021 at the fledgling pod on Southeast 82nd Avenue known as CORE. Portlanders quickly got hooked on his “jawns,” lovingly named after the Philadelphia vernacular for “anything,” but in this case used to classify Hatch’s distinctive hoagies. Though the jawns—which answer the question of what happens when Philly and Puerto Rico come together in the form of a sandwich in Portland—caught on to the point where the cart saw steady business, a stable location was elusive. Issues ranging from landlords and business partners not working out to ingredient shortages to ever-changing food costs led Papi Sal’s to bounce around town from CORE to Hawthorne to the Great Notion Brewing pop-up on Southeast Division Street before landing at White Owl Social Club in what is technically its first brick-and-mortar space. Since this past winter, Papi Sal’s has been pumping out some of Portland’s best bar food from inside the Southeast Portland lounge. But come the end of August, Hatch and Mummery will depart that space and move to a yet-to-be-named location, where they will continue to develop their concept and find their footing.

“[ White Owl] was always going to be a trial run based on a nine-month lease,” Hatch says. “It went well, but it wasn’t the best fit for either party. At this point, Papi Sal’s is an ever-evolving, multifaceted food business that will hop on the opportunity that we think is best at the time.”

The start date at the new location is slated for October.

“ We are doing a different menu with new and old stuff. More bar snacks. Less on-menu sandwiches and more sandwich specials. Happy hour! A cheesesteak window out of the kitchen directly to the street,” Hatch says, offering a glimpse at what we can expect.

This is exciting news for the jawn-loving masses, who will get to partake in staples like The Jawn (tender and flavorful pernil-style pork with broccoli rabe, $15), the standout Tender Jawn (spicy “long hots,” golden chicken tenders, sofrito and provolone; $15), and the Vegan Cheese Chopped Jawn ($16), a riff on the beefy bodega classic.

Luckily, its tenure at White Owl has not been in vain as Papi Sal’s has grown in recognition while also evolving to a new culinary level. The tropical-leaning cocktail menu that showcases frozen tequila and rum drinks has been a complementary quencher. The Puerto Rican-influenced menu regularly sees Hatch putting his just-spicy-enough, salsalike sofrito or salsa criolla (sometimes both!) on pretty much every dish.

“Our concept is a conglomerate of food diasporas together, but it’s cool knowing we opened people’s eyes to Puerto Rican and Philly food culture,” Hatch says.

He has also been able to refine his menu with dishes like tostone nachos—a true trip to the island with the proper level of starchy goodness and zip from the peppers—a sofrito Caesar, stuffed avocado, pizza empanadillas, and the new mallorca sandwiches (camarones and carne guisada with sweet fried plantains). Not to mention rice and meat platters for those who are thinking outside the bun.

“ We are really excited about some of the new things we have gotten to do at White Owl,” Hatch says. “We are excited to take some of those with us to the [new location]. We are definitely Rocky Balboa-ing this jawn—improvising and rolling with the punches.”

Papi Sal’s sandwiches and creative specials definitely punch above their weight, and the warm reception they’ve received at each location has only motivated Hatch to get better.

“I can say that we’re stoked about where the food has gone in terms of quality and other little nuances,” he adds. “It’s difficult to combine cultures. Heck, it’s difficult being a person of different backgrounds and cultures and influences and upbringing. Sorting it out has been a journey of identity for myself. We’re excited to bring our new menu to wherever we go.”

EAT: Papi Sal’s at White Owl Social Club, 1305 SE 8th Ave., 720-708-9152, papisalspdx. com. 4-10 pm Tuesday-Thursday and Sunday, 4 pm-1 am Friday-Saturday, through the end of the month.

Most of the week, the kitchen at this 10-year-old Northeast Portland catering company is a quiet prep space by day, while some evenings its tasting room hosts weddings and corporate dinners. But on Thursday nights, White Pepper transforms into a neighborhood hangout serving burgers. We’ve sampled them all, and the standout of the bunch is the Classic Burger. The stack is everything you want a Big Mac to be but never is: two housemade patties, American cheese, iceberg lettuce, mustard and mayo with ketchup on the side. No one element stands out; it’s just a harmonious combination that makes for the perfect summer meal.

4. DOLLY OLIVE

527 SW 12th Ave., 503-719-6921, dollyolivepdx.com. 11 am-3 pm and 5-9 pm Sunday-Thursday, 11 am-3 pm and 5-10 pm Friday-Saturday.

This month, The Wall Street Journal declared we’re “becoming a nation of early birds,” and it’s hard to argue with that point since Portland’s nightlife has never really rebounded from the pandemic. If we are all turning in earlier these days, might as well make the most of lunch, a meal that’s never been as leisurely as brunch nor as elegant as dinner, yet you can apply both of those adjectives to the midday meal experience at downtown’s Dolly Olive. Lunch service began in May and includes items that would suit just about anyone’s tastes, from a farro salad to a slow-roasted rosemary prosciutto-and-Gruyère panini to a crispy chicken confit. You can even pretend you’re at a fancy dinner and order a salted caramel cannoli for dessert—a move we highly recommend.

5. CÂCHE CÂCHE

1015 SE Stark St. 5-10 pm Wednesday-Saturday, 1-8 pm Sunday.

Câche Câche, a raw seafood bar from Kurt Huffman’s ChefStable and St. Jack chef John Denison, is Portland’s newest and neatest oceanic idyll. The new place is aptly named after the French term for “hide-andseek” since it’s hard to find and there is no phone number or website. The search is worth it for the lobster roll alone, though, which might cause a Mainer’s eyes to grow misty. Three ounces of meat are lightly dressed with a tarragon-infused aioli and then stuffed into a cuboid cut from a crustless Dos Hermanos Pullman loaf. Everyone must order this; sharing is a bad idea.