by Melissa Aguilar |
The reverse culture shock I went through upon my return to the U.S. this past summer mostly involved me scrolling through an endless reel of churro shots I had taken in Spain. So when I found out a Spanish churreria was opening in Portland, it felt like an answer to my prayers.
The churros, or should I say xurros, are fried fresh daily at the new restaurant, 180, in Northeast Portland.
What’s up with the x in xurros? The xurros at 180 are from a particular region in Spain called Catalonia, where, in addition to Spanish, they speak Catalan, a language that really likes xes. The restaurant is named 180 for the temperature — Celsius — at which the little dough twirls are fried to perfection.
Whereas the Mexican version of churros tends to be a little heavier and maybe makes you regret ordering them later, the Spanish variety are lighter and taste like deep-fried deliciousness.
Mexican churros usually stand alone, whether they’re filled with crème or jelly. Spanish xurros, on the other hand are oftentimes plain. 180’s are lightly dusted with cinnamon and sugar, but are best enjoyed with a dipping sauce: marshmallow swirl, caramel and roasted peanuts and lemon curd are offered at $2 a sauce.
You could also go the more traditional route and order a house xocolata, which unlike American hot cocoa, is basically melted down chocolate with milk. The chocolate is a little on the expensive side, however, at $4 for a tiny cup.
The xurros at 180 come in orders of 3, 6, or 12, and are smaller than standard Americanized churros and the Spanish churros I’ve had.
You can also get xurros bañados, which are crunchy chocolate-covered xurros. Xuixos, a more donut-like pastry filled with crema catalana, are another option, but are only offered on a first-come, first-served basis.
On the downside, the place is tiny. The main area only offers seating for 12 but has an adjacent room that looks like it’s being remodeled as it has more seating but no tables. To fully enjoy the xurro-dunking experience without fear of spilling molten chocolate down your pants, I’d say tables are necessary.
If seating does prove to be a problem, you can get the xurros to go.
Despite its minor flaws, 180 will fill the churro void in my heart — at least until I can get back to Spain.
180 is located at 2218 N.E. Broadway.
Melissa Aguilar is copy editor for The Beacon. She can be reached at aguilar16@up.edu.
