This tiny brunch hot spot on SE Milwaukie risks veering into wellness culture parody, boasting its aversion to gluten, dairy, soy, refined sugars, gums, preservatives, and...corn(?). But the queues of stylish zoomers lining up at the door aren’t here for empty hype: Owned by a chef and a nutritionist, Bastion turns crunchy culture into something special, offering heaping quinoa bowls and potato hashes laden with colorful greens and ripe avocado, coconut milk lattes, and date-sweetened smoothies loaded with fruits and herbs. The signature dish may be its sweet potato and acorn waffles—pleasantly nutty and naturally sweet, they come out of the iron as crispy as any Belgian waffle should, and are best paired with the café’s crackling fried chicken and cashew-based pimento cheese. You’ll need to place an order before you find a seat at one of the few tables in the crowded dining room, but things tend to move quickly and you won’t be left standing long. —Alex Frane

If you’re heading to Bertie Lou’s on a weekend day, better get there early. By noon, half of Sellwood is attempting to grab a barstool or nab a table at the 20-something-seat diner. Once seated, dig into cinnamon roll French toast and eggs Benedict topped with silky hollandaise, or cure your hangover with the mammoth breakfast burrito, loaded up with eggs, peppers, onion, cheese, sausage and bacon, sour cream, and guacamole. Breakfast doesn’t change to reflect seasonality or chef whims; instead, it’s reliably satisfying and well-executed. And it’s no wonder: Bertie Lou’s has been at it for nearly 90 years, demonstrated by the framed napkin art hanging on its walls, the works of past diners going back decades. —AF

Would Portland have the same thriving brunch culture it enjoys today if not for this transformative Scandinavian morning restaurant? Probably, but it wouldn’t be nearly as fun. Peter Bro opened the first Broder in a narrow café on SE Clinton Street back in 2007, wowing locals and travelers with brunch items that transcended the familiar. Square baked eggs topped potato hash, served in sizzling cast-iron pans with spelt rye bread. Swedish meatballs with sherry cream sauce far outshone Ikea’s version. A Nordic twist on bloody marys swapped aquavit for vodka. And then there were the æbleskivers, decadent little spheres of griddled dough topped with powdered sugar and served with crave-worthy lingonberry jam and lemon curd. Today, Broder has become a microchain, with outposts throughout the city and even in Astoria and Hood River, but the menus, and crowds, remain constant. —AF

From 9am to 3pm Thursday through Sunday, one of the city’s best pizza spots turns into a brunch joint. Weekend mornings bring out an all-ages crowd, with plenty of strollers in tow. The menu is proudly farm-obsessed, sourcing produce from as nearby as the backyard garden. Drinks run espresso tonics to funky natural wines, and plates start as simple as housemade preserves and the city’s best sourdough. A fluffy frittata and house milk buns make a great breakfast sandwich. Smoked salmon on hearty toast pops with lemon and dill. And the all-business Olli Breakfast Plate—Nueske’s bacon, toast, greens, and two eggs—is the best breakfast you could never make at home. Real ones know to check out the pastry case. —Matthew Trueherz

Toddlers gnaw on bao buns and parents sip tea around the numerous tables at Excellent Cuisine, the newest contender vying for Portland’s dim sum crown—and from our perspective, it’s the clear winner. Well-stocked carts circulate with intimidatingly large siu mai and plump har gow, heaping piles of chow mein and saucy rice noodle rolls, sesame balls and jiggling mango puddings shaped like ducklings. But on the weekends, eagle eyes search for the red rice shrimp rolls, tubes of snappy dumpling wrapper filled with juicy fried shrimp, or fried shrimp balls, lollipopped around a piece of sugarcane to dunk in sweet and sour sauce. The undersung chiu chow dumplings, almost bursting with fried alliums and peanuts, are worth a deliberate order if they’re not rolling around the room that day. —Brooke Jackson-Glidden

With its horseshoe counters and vintage red leather stools, the almost-80-year-old Fuller’s is as old-school as they come, even after a fire tried to shut it down for good. The charm extends to its menu, too, hitting all the classic diner staples with nary a modern twist to be seen. Weekday mornings, you’ll find downtown workers grabbing pre-shift coffee and omelets and retirees working through stacks of buttermilk pancakes, while on weekends shoppers file in for French toast and hash browns with eggs prepared a dozen ways. And, unlike many true-to-form diners, Fuller’s pours mimosas and Marys for brunches every day of the week. —AF

A dream team brought Mémoire Cà Phê to life. Richard Le, of the Vietnamese American cart turned pop-up Matta, is on the savory menu, blending Vietnamese dishes with American fast food staples, his mom’s shrimp omelet to biscuits and gravy spiked with fish sauce. Kim Dam, of the Vietnamese coffee shop Portland Cà Phê, handles the salted pandan matchas and egg cream lattes. And Lisa Nguyen, of the now-closed rice flour pastry shop HeyDay, supplies the sweets—don’t skip the ube and black sesame waffles. —MT

Shelves stacked with jars of preserves and bottles of wine line the walls at Navarre, fooling entrants into thinking they’ve stumbled through a portal to a bucolic European bistro. Opened in 2001, the restaurant was foundational in bringing the small plates style of dining to Portland; almost 25 years later, its straightforward plates and impressive array of imported wines still amaze. At the weekends-only brunch service, you build your brunch order by ticking boxes on paper menus: egg orders, breads with olive oils and French butter, and seasonal vegetables. Daily menus list specials like chard and parmesan scrambles, clams in white wine and herbed butter, pork loin Benedicts, or whatever the kitchen whips up with the day’s farm-fresh CSA order. Each item comes as a single order or family-size plate, making it ideal for groups of all sizes. —AF

There was a time when vegan and vegetarian restaurants practically defined Portland’s culinary identity. While the city still embraces meat-free diets, sausage and bacon star on more than a few brunch menus. At Off the Griddle, a pair of cheerful cafés, they do not. The entirely meat-free menu is breeze for veg-heads. Even sans pork, the breakfast burritos and waffles stuffed with hash browns and veggie sausage veer hearty: Take the brunch wrap supreme à la Taco Bell, with soy-based chorizo, herbed tofu scramble, and a house “cheese” sauce. Still somehow hungry? Add a side of tempeh bacon or a slice of walnut-based “meatloaf.” Everything is vegan by default, but you can swap in scrambled eggs for an extra $2. —AF

The Vuong-Luu family is responsible for some of the city’s finest Vietnamese food, spanning three restaurants specializing in daily rotating soups. Any of the family’s restaurants—the grande dame Hà VL, the up-and-comer Annam VL—will execute some profoundly flavorful broths abundant with noodles, cuts of meat, crunchy bits, and fresh herbs, served each morning alongside eye-wateringly strong Vietnamese iced coffee. For a Saturday-morning breakfast, however, it would be hard to surpass Rose VL, the family’s soup spot on Powell. Saturday hosts the weekly changing menu’s strongest lineup: A craggy rice cracker perches over Vietnamese ham, shrimp, shrimp cakes, pork ribs, and sliced pork in the house mì Quảng, turmeric yellow noodles swirling underneath. The mild-mannered, lemongrass-scented yellow chicken curry is straight comfort food, loaded with potatoes and carrots. But you’re here for the cao lầu, a dish from Vietnam’s Quảng Nam province in which springy tapioca noodles sit in a rich, gravy-like broth, supporting a fan of char siu pork, marinated chicken thigh, and a hearty handful of herbs and lettuce. Order a quart of the pristine broth served on the side to keep in your freezer; it’s a godsend on sick days. —BJG

Pretty food—of the edible flowers variety—is not always delicious food. Not so at Sweedeedee, Albina’s lo-fi, folk-vibed café named for a Michael Hurley song. Serve yourself a cup of coffee and peruse the shelves of fancy olive oils and pastas while you wait—you’re probably going to wait. But the corn cakes tie-dyed with hearty griddle marks and a picturesque pat of butter sliding off are worth it. So is the textbook tortilla Española under a seasonal green salad. Desserts and pastries from the case are ever changing and nonnegotiable, particularly cakes and clafoutis studded with seasonal fruit. —BJG

Xiao Ye is a neighborhood-cheffy restaurant. Easygoing, but curated. Everything is expertly mismatched, including the menu. The no-rules banner “first generation American food” guides things. Recipes from Taiwan, Italy, Mexico—any cuisine for which the chefs have a personal affinity is fair game. At Saturday and Sunday brunch, this looks like sticks of thick Taiwanese “brick toast” brûléed with kaya, a custardy Singaporean milk butter, to dunk in a sauce of cured egg yolk. Or “The Pancake,” thick as a cake layer, with southeast Asian palm sugar butter as well as Americana maple syrup and blueberry compote. Get a cinnamon roll for the table—it’s a sticky-gooey mess—and the Taiwanese rice porridge, which comes with a parade of savory pickles and preserves in little ramekins. —MT