Reduce the ocean to a demi-glace, and you might have crayon-black squid ink, the traditional heart of Spain’s seafood paellas. These Iberian risotto-like creations are commonly flavored with it and adorned with a medley of mollusks, crustaceans, and chunks of Spanish chorizo.
At the newly opened Vya in Portland, Oregon, seafood paella takes a heterodox turn: they base it on housemade chicken stock. Their chef, Connor Gallaher, says this makes it more “approachable,” which it is. It is also unreproachable, distinctly Iberian, surfy turfy.
Most Spanish restaurants parboil the rice for their paellas in order to shorten cooking time. Vya, refreshingly, does not. You must defer gratification for 45 minutes while their Spanish Bomba rice absorbs every drop of its cooking liquid to reap your reward. When delivered, it is amplified by the socarrat (toasted crust) encircling the enterprise and by the scattering of shrimp, mussels, and clams atop it, so achingly fresh they border on rude.
Flinty, Not Fussy
Of course, like all Mediterranean cuisines, Spanish food exalts its fresh ingredients. But, unlike French cuisine, it doesn’t modulate them with cream and butter. It eschews fussiness. Evoking Spain’s flinty interior, flavors often involve stark contrasts and jutting proclamations.
Their croquetas de jamón arrive as crumbed-serrano-studded mornay lozenges, fried into a frangible crust—savory bonbons that shatter upon impact.
Hard slices of salty goat cheese find their foil in a sweet quince paste or, more daringly, a housemade fennel jam. This jam, in particular, is an uncommon collision designed to induce reverence.
©Susan Greenberg
Even their unctuous oxtail empanada, heavy with molten connective tissue, registers as an umami shockwave.
Why quadrilaterally precise, perfectly pellucid ice-cubes make a drink better, we don’t know, but they do. Both their Sangria Blanca, flavored with lychee, and their G&T, flavored with elderflower, partake of their virtue.
It Started in Barcelona
Vya was started by Vy and Steve Chao, former Intel employees who met in Barcelona at a conference. This led them on a romantic quest to find the city’s finest paella. The restaurant is an homage to their meet-cute. Incipient restaurant moguls, they also own Doja Tea Room, Doja Tea Lounge, and Alma, a Balkan restaurant and cocktail bar in Portland.
Don’t Desert Dessert
Our desserts, crustless cheesecake dolloped with superexcellent quince sauce (like pear but an octave lower) and almond cake with warm fresh marmalade, were luscious. The cheesecake was astonishingly moist, on the cusp of liquid – yet still holding its form.
High-ceiled and handsomely appointed, the space feels more polished Portland lounge than tony Barcelona taberna. Vya is the destination for those not looking to scale the vertiginous heights of haute Spanish cuisine, but who instead seek the mellow, certain comfort of approachable excellence.
Before You Go
Vya is located in Portland’s Hosford-Abernethy neighborhood.
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Read more from David and Susan at The Ardent Gourmet.
