12 // COASTWEEKEND.COM
Coast Weekend’s local
restaurant review
Bread and Ocean prizes craftsmanship, community, family
Review and photos by
THE MOUTH OF THE COLUMBIA
BREAD AND
OCEAN BAKERY
(DINNER SERVICE)
MOUTH@COASTWEEKEND.COM
or the first couple
of years after
purchasing Man-
zanita’s Bread
and Ocean Bak-
ery from Julie
Barker, George
and Linda Red-
dish maintained the founder’s
vision.
In 2016, the Reddishes added
some vision of their own.
They began with a physical
expansion: a second dining
area that more than doubled
the often packed, line-snaking,
elbow-to-elbow seating. The
new room included a full bar.
Then, last fall, a weekend dinner
service joined the retrofit.
For the Reddishes, helming
Bread and Ocean has been their
maiden voyage into the restau-
rant world. They were teachers
who came to the North Coast to
retire, and purchasing the bakery
offered a new chapter and chal-
lenge.
At first they were shown
the ropes by employees. As
such, Bread and Ocean’s dinner
service is the product of collab-
oration. Where the breakfast and
lunch service maintains much of
Barker’s original design — fresh
bread, sandwiches and lean,
fresh deli items — the dinner
service is a menu-by-committee.
The collective approach has
benefits and drawbacks. Rather
than a unified style or cuisine,
dinner choices are piecemeal.
Influences — from Asian to
soul food, all reflected through
a Pacific Northwest lens — are
proffered by the handful of em-
ployees, who write each week-
end menu. Altogether, you might
call it “family style.” Many of
the entrées are not unlike those
a household might share: meat,
potatoes and veggies — except,
of course, that moms and dads
Rating:
154 Laneda Ave. • Manzanita, OR
PHONE: 503-368-5823
HOURS: Friday through Sat-
urday 5 p.m. through 8 p.m.
(Dinner service)
PRICE: $$ - entrées top out
around $20
SERVICE: Inviting, enjoyably
quirky, inefficient
VEGETARIAN/VEGAN
OPTIONS: Reasonable
DRINKS: Full bar, juice,
bottled soda
Cajun-style meatloaf with macaroni
and cheese and asparagus.
rarely worry about such aestheti-
cally pleasing presentation.
With the edge-to-edge con-
sistency of a Pollack painting,
the Beet Salad ($8) was lovingly
arranged. Such meticulousness
offered more than just a feast for
the eyes, it made every bite per-
fect. Each fork-full had an equal
distribution of smooth, salty
goat cheese, delightful candied
pecans, spinach with just the
right amount of tangy balsamic,
and a few oranges and tangerine
slices for good measure.
Even the Meatloaf — with
stretchy, melted Gruyère and
Parmesan cheese macaroni and
buttery asparagus spears — was
daintily arranged. A dusting of
paprika and diced chives dressed
the plate’s negative space.
This was a take on soul food
that felt very Northwest — dis-
ruptive because it was so darn
reasonable. The portions were
measured, not teeming, nor over-
loaded with sugars, salts and
fats. The ketchup-like, vinegar
heavy “Cajun” meatloaf sauce
wasn’t rich, sweet or spicy.
Unlike real soul food, one could
finish this whole meal and not
need a nap afterward.
These touches of arrangement
keep dinner from flying out of
the kitchen. So does a lack of
traditional hierarchy. There’s
Beet salad with goat cheese, oranges and candied pecans.
no head chef. This decentral-
ized command structure results
in certain employees being in
charge of certain dishes (of-
ten the ones they themselves
drummed up).
What this boosts in pride
of craftsmanship it reduces in
efficiency. With the restaurant
mostly empty after a dinner
rush, even simple foods took
significantly longer than aver-
age to emerge. A similarly mild
discombobulation was apparent
in the front of the house. This
centerlessness means you might
get bread or water well before a
menu. Or maybe multiple serv-
ers will try to take your order.
But the flagging speed and
organization is redeemed, first,
by the food and, second, by an
earnest sense of warmth and
community. Bread and Ocean
is a place where staff appear
encouraged to enjoy their indi-
viduality. Rather than being an
extension of a singular chef, the
establishment prizes community,
democracy, family.
The labored pace probably
has something to do with the
evolving menu, too, though there
are some stalwarts. You’ll often
find roasted chicken and pork
ribs, each served with potatoes
and veggies. Indeed, potatoes
are a mainstay.
Think “home-style,” which
is a word I used to believe was
meaningless marketing speak,
but Bread and Ocean has me
reconsidering. Here it means
dishes that are humble, built
from whole foods and not overly
complex techniques. The result
is closer to hearty and healthy
than indulgent. But, indeed,
there is joy to be found in eating
simply, thoughtfully and well.
Along with the small handful
of entrées, there are “tapas,”
which is really a catchall term
for soups, appetizers and salads
(less than ten in total). Maybe
that’s because, during my trips,
there was just one salad, which
is absolutely fine — of every-
thing I tried, the Beet Salad
remains my enduring favorite.
I also sampled the Korean
Twice Fried Wings, which were
regrettable in both price and
flavor. For $7 you get just three
wings. The twice-fried process
stacks breading, an oily crunch
overwhelming scant flesh. It’s
an interesting texture but more
KEY TO STAR RATING SYSTEM
Below average
Average
Good
Excellent
Best in region
filler than killer. Really, when
have you had chicken wings and
thought: I wish these had more
bread and less meat! The mild
sauce, too, longed for some kick.
The Dungeness Crab-stuffed
Dover Sole ($18), on the other
hand, had some killer filler. The
Dungeness, bound by melted
Parmesan and flecks of peppers,
was a marvelous sinewy goo.
On the spectrum of “home-
style,” crab-wrapped fish is
surely pushing the limit. Yet the
vibe at Bread and Ocean is so
welcomingly casual that eating
the accompanying asparagus
spears with my hands felt totally
reasonable.
Indeed, Bread and Ocean
promises no kind of elite fine
dining, and at no time did I long
for it. Instead, I found myself at
ease and at home in the com-
munity of employees who are
encouraged to bring their quirks
to the table.