Fressen: Franconian rye in Montavilla

When we want a rye that actually tastes like rye — not a brown sandwich loaf wearing a German costume — we get in the car and we drive EAST. Fressen Artisan Bakery is the Montavilla German bakery we keep sending people to, and once you walk through the door of that converted shop you will understand why we will not shut up about it! The room used to be an auto garage, and you can still feel that big industrial volume: double-height ceilings, daylight pouring in through the original openings, warm wood against the high walls, and a partial partition that lets the smell of the oven roll straight into the café. Bentwood chairs and booths with red cushions sit under pendant lights, and if the glazed doors are open the whole front of the shop spills toward the street like a little Viennese kaffeehaus that somehow landed on this side of town. We can also see the production side from the café — flour, peels, the sound of racks — and it makes the visit feel SUPER alive, like the bread is still happening while you stand there!

Owner-baker Edgar Loesch grew up in a German family in Romania, trained in the Bavarian guild system, and started this bakery because he could not find the European ryes he grew up on. Grains come from local regenerative farms, the loaves are naturally fermented, and almost everything is done by hand. You taste time. You taste caraway. You do NOT taste a brand campaign.

What we always order

The rye. We are going to say it in all caps because that is why we made the trip: GET THE FRANCONIAN RYE if it is on the rack! On the bakery’s own board that loaf is a Franken-region sourdough, about two-thirds rye to one-third white, seasoned with caraway, coriander, and fennel. The crust is dark and a little glossy where the steam hit it, the crumb is tight and moist, and when you lean in you smell those spices before you even cut a slice. This is a real rye — dense enough to hold, aromatic enough that the paper bag perfumes the whole car on the way home. We buy a full loaf when it is out, and we wait to cut it at home so the spices can settle.

If the rye has already walked out the door, we look at the rest of the bread board like we mean it. Fressen also bakes other naturally leavened whole-grain loaves, plus those BIG salted pretzels with the deep mahogany skin and the coarse salt crystals sitting on top like little jewels. We have taken a pretzel when we wanted something to eat before the loaf cooled, and we have taken pastry from the German case when we were already committed to bread. The café side means you can sit under those pendants with coffee and watch the room work, which we LOVE.

Before you go

This is a production bakery with café hours, not a 7 a.m. pastry factory that resets at noon. The Franconian rye has been listed Wednesday through Sunday — treat that as a pattern, not a pinky-swear, and check before you drive across town for one loaf! Small German bakeries sell out of the thing you came for. If you already live east, this is an easy neighborhood stop. If you do not, give yourself a real errand. Park, walk in, let your eyes adjust to that tall bright room, and look at the rack first. We have used Fressen as the eastern end of a naturally-leavened run after Tabor Bread on Belmont, and that combination feels like a very Portland Saturday.

If you want a German rye that was built on purpose, THIS is the stop. If you want laminated pastry as the main event, go somewhere that says croissant on the door. We leave with the loaf if they have it, and we come back when they do not — because a bakery that still bakes on a schedule is exactly the kind of place we want to keep using.

More on the place page: Fressen Artisan Bakery