In June 2025, JinJu Patisserie scaled the mountain: The warm-hearted neighborhood bakery, which had opened on North Williams Avenue six years before, won the prestigious James Beard Outstanding Bakery award. Never mind its lack of indoor seating, or its stacks of boxes everywhere. What mattered was inside of three gleaming bakery cases: stellar croissants the size of a Buick, fancy cakes, and artistic chocolate bonbons. It was already popular, but post-Beard lines snaked around the corner. Shortly after doors opened, JinJu looked like the siege of Stalingrad. In a mere two hours, 1,000 baked goods were snatched up, not a crumb in the house. Owners Jin Caldwell and Kyurim “Q” Lee worked 15-hour days just to keep up. 

Then, poof, it was over. On December 28, six months after nabbing a Beard medal, JinJu closed. Its lease had ended, but in reality it had outgrown the tiny kitchen. Wails of grief rocketed around the city. Its final weekend, adherents waited hours in the cold for a final taste. But it wasn’t the end; Caldwell and Lee said they planned to return, just somewhere else. Every citizen, it seemed, sprung into action to find a new home that would keep JinJu in the neighborhood. Customers, real estate agents—even politicians, as Caldwell tells the story—sent ideas and listings. 

Now, the wait is over. JinJu Patisserie 2.0 had its first test-drive over the weekend at 3494 N Williams Ave, six blocks south of the original space. Caldwell reports that customers were lined up by 7am. When it officially “soft opens” October 21, hours will be 8am to 2pm Wednesday–Sunday. 

The new chapter includes a chic space designed by Caldwell with small custom oak tables, and nearly double the kitchen. Five new bakers have been added with one goal in mind: to make sure customers are hopefully not left at the altar in line with not a croissant, scone, or cookie in sight. The signature chocolate, glorious almond, and ungodly ham-and-cheese croissants will be made in batches throughout service. But be patient: A mechanical problem occurred with the kitchen’s big new upgrade, a 10-foot-long “sheeter” from Italy, used to roll out dough uniformly and to evenly incorporate butter. That means croissants will not be available in the initial rollout.

But Jinju is not merely reupping its old repertoire. Over the summer, Caldwell and Lee returned to Seoul, Korea, where they both grew up, to plunge into the world of salt breads—buttery ovals at the divine crossroads of a croissant, a dinner roll, and a pretzel roll. They studied the classic form, but JinJu’s version has its own mochi-esque chew. Expect two to three options, some sweet, some savory.  

My prediction: JinJu’s salt breads are destined for Portland cult status. A near crippling cloud of whipped sweet cream, cream cheese, and fruit erupt out of the middle of the sweet versions, berry to yuzu marmalade. Mercy.

“It’s like a cream puff, but with our touch,” Caldwell says.

There’s more. Say hello to JinJu’s first breakfast sandwich: the BBC, a.k.a. Jinju’s “Big Breakfast Croissant.” Olympia Provisions ham, bacon, two kinds of cheese, and Mama Lil’s peppers or the house white kimchi kraut are in play. I fully expect it to contend with the city’s best.  

Meanwhile, other baked goods have new twists. Cinnamon rolls, made with milk bread dough, now appear in changing seasonal flavors, perhaps mandarin confit or apple crisp. Scones have transformed into thumbprint “jammies” with fresh compote and seasonal fruits in the middle. The bodacious chocolate chip cookies are now taller and thicker. And the coffee game will be stronger, with house-blended beans, hot chocolate whipped to order, homemade marshmallows, and matcha drinks. 

Instead of a full-on fancy dessert case, JinJu will focus on roughly three options per week, including the vaunted carrot cake and chocolate mousse cake. The chocolate bonbons will be available in limited batches. 

See you in line.