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Few Portland dining rituals are so enduring as an order of onion rings ($12.95–$14.95) fresh from the fryer at the 81-year-old RingSide Steakhouse on West Burnside Street. Though the rings did not find their place on the menu until sometime in the early 1960s—then at 80 cents an order—it is hard to imagine eating around Portland without falling for them.
Generations of Portlanders have gnawed their way through the RingSide’s specialty steakhouse standards. For my family, orders over the decades often included a massive wedge of iceberg lettuce with house French/blue cheese dressing; sizzling, bacon-wrapped 8– or 12–ounce fillets, medium rare; and big baked potatoes served with bowls full of butter pats, sour cream, chives and bacon bits—the real ones, made in the back behind swinging kitchen doors like everything else on the menu.
My grandmother would always eat half her order of the umber-hued, shattery fried chicken. My mom enjoyed chicken livers that probably haven’t been on the menu since the 1980s. A young niece once sat on the floor under the table eating butter. The drinks were strong, too, and there was a certain element that chose to make their meal right in the bar, as one might today.
But everyone had onion rings.
Though the restaurant has updated over the decades, with a major remodel in 2011 and bar refresh in 2019, it still feels like the same crowded yet intimate dining room it has always been. Especially in summer time, it takes a few blinks to adjust to the dim light and dark wood on entering from Burnside through heavy, seen-it-all wooden doors. Old-style high booths are scattered in bunches under a dropped ceiling, better to hold secret the stories told within. Signed menus from local glitterati, mostly long-retired Trail Blazers, line the walls.
Like its longtime patrons, the RingSide is a multigenerational family affair. Named after a nearby boxing rink that was a distant memory by the 1970s, the restaurant was opened by matriarch Bev Peterson’s parents, the Delepines. Bev’s husband, Wes, is regarded as the onion ring originator, so the inside story goes. When the first generation of Petersons retired, in stepped son Craig and daughter Jan. Even though they, too, have now stepped aside day-to-day, Jan was there catching up on a renewed wine list when I came in to refresh my taste buds.
The staff is part of the family story, too. Twenty percent of RingSide employees have worked there for more than a decade. One of the valets has been parking cars for 15 years. But the longevity award goes to Albert Spor, originally a busser-turned-sous chef who has “made a lot of onion rings” over 48 years.
When I started asking what makes the rings so special, I expected a solid wall of resistance. But general manager Geoff Rich (a mere eight-year RingSide veteran) was surprisingly unguarded, except on a couple of key points.
The rings begin with special-order “extra jumbo” yellow onions. This is a big deal in two respects: The size yields the most maximum-diameter rings, the Platonic fried allium ideal. If an onion order comes up short, it is rejected. Sweet onions are also a no-go; they burn due to their high sugar content before the batter is fully fried.
The onions mostly originate from Eastern Washington or Idaho, depending on season. Once the raw onions are cut into one-third-of-an-inch-wide rounds and separated, they are doused in milk (not buttermilk) to remove the harsh sulfur compounds. Next, they are lightly floured, then battered. Fry time in canola oil is two to three minutes.
“So, what’s in the batter?” I asked Rich. The most I could get out of him was, “It is a liquidy, egg-and-milk-based batter.” Jan Peterson was more succinct, if equally unhelpful: “It’s really simple.” Easy for her to say.
The other topic they would not touch was the precise formulation of the house dressing, the ideal dunk for the rings. Beyond admitting the obvious combination of French and blue cheese, Rich would reveal only that there is some paprika in it.
Rebuffed, I supped on rings in the bar and flashed back through the decades. They were magnificent, as always. Turns out I am in accord with Portland-born, national food legend James Beard, who once said the RingSide “serves the finest French-fried onion rings I have ever eaten in an American restaurant. They are not too thickly cut, they are cooked to perfection and come to the table hot, crisp and smelling great.”
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TRY IT: RingSide Steakhouse, 2165 W Burnside St., 503-223-1513, ringsidesteakhouse.com. 4:30–9 pm Monday–Thursday, 4:30–9:30 pm Friday, 4–9:30 pm Saturday, 4–9 pm Sunday.