Sebastiano's: Sellwood cannoli, filled last

Two things, before anyone parks on the wrong block in Sellwood. First: this page is Sebastiano’s, the Sicilian café. Twisted Croissant also has a Sellwood shop. They are not the same counter, not the same dough, not the same errand. Second: Sebastiano’s used to be the tiny Montavilla storefront people treated like a secret. Elise and Dan Gold moved the shop to SE 13th in Sellwood-Moreland in 2024, with room to sit and a longer day. If your mental map still says Stark and 80th, UPDATE it — because the new room is the one we cannot stop talking about!

The first thing we notice is the courtyard: a sign, picnic tables, that little patio that makes the whole visit feel like you found a corner of Sicily behind a Sellwood strip. Then you walk in and look left, and THERE is the back wall — citrus-fruit wallpaper, bright and a little wild, the kind of pattern that makes the whole café feel sunny even on a gray Portland afternoon. Indoor seats, a market corner of oils and house goods, windows that look back out to the patio. In Montavilla you grabbed and left. Here you can sit, have espresso, and eat the cannoli before it steams itself in a box, which we LOVE. The shop is a bakery, a deli, and a market at once, which is how a Sicilian café is supposed to work!

What we always order

The cannoli. GET THE CANNOLI, and get it filled at the end so the shell stays crisp! The shells are fried, then filled to order, and the one we name is the candied-orange-and-chocolate: house-candied orange peel on one end, chocolate on the other, ricotta piped through the middle so it looks like a little jewel at the table. The shell is blistered and shatter-crisp, the filling is cool and creamy, and those two ends are the whole personality of the pastry. This is still the first order we place even when we came “just for a sandwich.” A filled cannoli does not want to wait in a bag while you walk the Springwater.

Then the muffaletta, on house bread. This is not a souvenir sandwich. It is a real muffaletta — the kind that made the Montavilla shop famous — built on bread they bake, stacked with olive salad the loaf is there to carry. If you only have room for one savory thing, this is it. The shop also bakes focaccia and other sandwich breads; we ask what is on the board instead of inventing a second sandwich personality. Sweets after that, or instead, if lunch is not the visit. Sicilian cookies are a house project, including the gluten-free pasticcini di mandorle, which we take when someone at the table cannot do wheat and still wants a proper almond pastry. Espresso brownies and olive oil cake are the other names we trust. When cassata al forno is in season, we order it — a baked ricotta cake that shows up when they are making it. Ask!

We do not treat this as a croissant stop. If you want laminated pastry in Sellwood, that is the other shop. We are here for shells, bread, and cookies.

Before you go

Sellwood, SE 13th, a couple of blocks south of Tacoma. Daytime café — the move from Montavilla was partly so they could keep longer hours than the original lunch window. Still: this is not a late bakery. Check the day before you drag people across the river, and do not assume a Sunday without looking. If you are taking food to go, fill the cannoli last and get it home. If you need a tray of cookies or a specific cake, use the shop’s order tools instead of hoping the case matches your party. Production is still a small kitchen, even in the bigger room. The Golds outgrew 690 square feet for a reason. The new shop can bake more. It cannot bake everything for walk-ins who decided at noon on a Saturday.

We come for the cannoli. We stay for the muffaletta. We leave knowing which Sellwood door we meant — and we are already planning the next patio lunch!

More on the place page: Sebastiano's