Urdaneta — Restaurant in Portland

Urdaneta: A Pintxo of Spain, But Not Quite a Postcard

Five weeks. That’s how long it took to get a reservation at Urdaneta, and in those five weeks, I imagined the kind of meal that would transport me back to Spain—where I spent long, languorous summers eating jamón ibérico, whispering sweet nothings to slabs of bacalao, and testing the outer limits of my digestive system with whatever was sweating under the bar’s heat lamps.

Expectations are a dangerous thing.

The meal started with promise: A welcome amuse-bouche of ajo & pan soup, rich and silky, the kind of thing that makes you remember the virtues of simplicity. Cocktails landed with elegance, and we settled in, ready for the onslaught.

Then came the parade of pintxos and platos. The sobrasada—unctuous and deeply spiced—was the kind of thing you want to spread on everything, up to and including your own forearm. The foie gras on banana bread was a delightful act of absurdity, like a prank pulled by a pastry chef who understands excess and restraint in equal measure. A riot of fat and sweetness, it worked in a way it probably shouldn’t have.

But the jamón ibérico? Reader, my heart sank. It should have tasted like the sum total of a life well-lived—of acorns, time, and pig. Instead, it was smooth and unassertive, like someone had turned the volume down on a song you love. The croquetas, jamón ibérico, ostra shooter, tortilla española, and rabo de toro (which, while tasty, carried a price tag that made me briefly reconsider my life choices) were all, regrettably, just fine. Which is not what you want from the price point, the reputation, or a five-week wait.

Better were the bacalao en salsa verde and txangurro, each briny and vibrant in a way that gestured toward authenticity—not the rigid, dead-letter kind of authenticity, but the kind that smacks of familiarity, of an old friend telling you a story you’ve somehow never heard before.

And yet, something was missing. Was it the rusticity? The oil-slicked, room-temperature brilliance of a Spanish counter spread? Maybe just a bit of roughness around the edges? If this were Spain, four beers would have appeared unbidden at our table, and we’d have been eating with our fingers, wiping grease onto the paper napkins that disintegrate on impact.

Urdaneta is not that Spain. It is a curated Spain, a polished Spain, a Spain seen through the lens of a chef who reveres tradition but knows his audience. The meal was a pleasure, but not a revelation. If you leave your yearning for rustic Spanish irreverence in the trunk of your car and instead embrace this version of Iberia—one filtered through the tight precision of Portland’s modern dining scene—you will be well-fed. You will also, without question, be lighter in the wallet.

Just don’t expect the ham to...

Toro Bravo, Little Bird, and Blue Hour are gone. These were the kind of places that made PDX a booming foodie town by making fine dining and high-level service accessible for townies and tourists alike. Urdaneta remains, and it’s better than ever.

The following experience cost us $186 plus tip:

Atmosphere: Great music, busy but never hectic, dark wood and dim lights. Super fun open kitchen where you can watch 3 dudes pour their heart and soul into every dish. At one point I saw 2 different fellas each placing different components onto one single plate that came straight to our table, and I knew it wouldn’t have made it to us if it wasn’t exactly how the chefs wanted us to enjoy it. The word is pride.

Service: We made a Toast App reservation and selected ‘special occasion- Birthday’- they paid attention and got the assignment. Our server Andre hooked us up with so many little surprises, from a cucumber gazpacho they serve immediately upon seating to generous pours of chef-recommended cava to fancy little glasses of sherry they insisted we enjoy with our jamon Iberico. All comped, all incredibly thoughtful. None of that automatic service fee nonsense- they really earn their tips here with hustle and finesse. Respect the grind. The staff were attentive and were the definition of enriching, choreographed hospitality. We never had to ask for a single thing and our table was cleared and reset at precisely the right time with every course.

Food: their menu is broken up into 4 courses all meant to be shared tapas style. The idea is to get a bunch of little things and share them. No skips on the menu. Everything was immaculate, fun, inventive, seasonal, absolutely delicious. We tried a few things from each section. The menu changes a lot here and it’s all flames. Highlights include the foie on banana bread served as a perfect candy bar-sized brick; blood sausage on toast with all the fixins including house pickles and quail egg; crispy oxtail croquettes with an addictively spicy espelette dressing that was something like a cross between aioli and romesco; the grilled octopus with truffled potato and chorizo XO sauce- maybe the best $26 I’ve spent in my entire life; and the Cochinillo, confit pork sorcery reverse-engineered from suckling pig by separating the fat from the meat and then reconstructing it all into a perfect PERFECT square slab topped with crispy lechon skin so that every single bite has the same ratio of fat and meat. The sauce for this had a red eye gravy vibe that was just crazy. Food like this would usually be only for zillionaires to enjoy casually. The team at Urdaneta is making culinary artistry really accessible and that has to be celebrated.

We finished with their signature burnt Basque cheesecake and coffees. Don’t skip the...

I was really looking forward to trying a new place in Portland and having a nice dinner with friends last night. The food was interesting and I always appreciate a chef trying new things, so I can't fault them if I personally didn't care for the dishes because other people clearly love it. Regardless, the décor of the restaurant was very conferrable and inviting when I walked in.

Unfortunately though, the waiter that helped us all night made the whole experience completely unpleasant. Normally Michelin star restaurants treat you with respect and don't correct you or your friends every single time you say a foreign word slightly incorrectly by accident. If restaurant is truly trying to give the customer a find dining experience, the water shouldn't drop plates on the table and bump me personally multiple times through dinner when just trying to set new silverware down. I could ignore this because the tables were fairly close together, but what I could not ignore how rude the waiter was every time he spoke to anyone at our table. We generally go our of our way to be polite to people at restaurants because they do deal with rude people so I really do not understand where this attitude was coming from. I know that the restaurant is small but the water should not correct us in a very rude tone every time we say something slightly incorrect. He shouldn't drop plates on the table and say something almost completely unintelligible because he was already facing away from the table walking away. He shouldn't ask us if we want coffee and desert and when we order immediately tell us that "we have another reservation so we have to give this table away in a minute" before we even get the coffee or desert. I saw the same waiter talking with people at other tables and being polite and laughing, but for some reason when he came to our table he was very standoffish, condescending and honestly rude for no reason.

We unfortunately all left the restaurant talking about all of the rude things that the water did throughout dinner, not about the food at all. The only slightly saving grace was the the lady who appeared to be the manager of the restaurant was incredibly pleasant to talk with and very professional in how she presented herself, the food she was giving us, etc. I would be willing to try the food again, but unfortunately I will most likely not be going back just because of how horrible the...