Restaurant Review: Castor
Let me start this off the right way, because I already know how these things can go. For this first restaurant review, you don’t need to brace yourself. There’s no exposé, no takedown, no passive-aggressive nitpicking hidden beneath polite language. That’s not what this is. At least not yet. For now, I’ll make a simple promise: everything you read on this blog—every food review I take the time to write—will be about the places that actually deserve it. The places I care about. I’m not going to waste what little free time I have writing about a mediocre plate of pancakes or a poorly pulled espresso shot. I’ll only write when I’ve got something to say. And I’ve got something to say about Castor.
Now, to be transparent, Castor is a former client. Not a Gala client. We’re talking pre-Gala, back in the early days when I was still figuring out what this whole creative work thing could be. But even if I had no history with them, even if I’d never met the team behind the scenes, I’d still be writing this. Because Castor is just that good. Led by Chef Danielle—who doesn’t need your approval, but will probably earn it anyway—and the incredibly thoughtful husband-and-wife team Evan and Lilia, Castor has managed to do something rare in a town like Corvallis. They’ve created a space that walks the line between elevated and effortless. It’s refined without being fussy. Smart without being smug. Every dish is crafted with care and a sense of purpose, like it actually matters what ends up in front of you. There’s something about Castor that feels different from the moment you walk in. Maybe it’s the way the servers greet you like they’ve been waiting for you, specifically. Maybe it’s the menu that changes just enough to keep things interesting without ever feeling like a place chasing trends. Or maybe it’s just the energy of a team that gives a shit. Really gives a shit. The food? Let’s talk about the food. It’s soulful. It’s nuanced. It’s the kind of food that doesn’t rely on butter and salt to do the heavy lifting, even though it’s not afraid of either. There’s a clear Southern influence in the menu—but it’s not trying to be some hokey, deep-fried caricature of Southern cuisine. It’s inspired by the South. It draws from that tradition, and then does something different. Something honest. It leans into Pacific Northwest ingredients and elevates them through that Southern lens in a way that’s personal, expressive, and—frankly—really damn good.
Now, I do have to say something that’s been stuck in my head for a while. I once read a one-star review online that accused Castor of being “inauthentic” because the food wasn’t traditional Southern. To that reviewer, I’d like to say—sincerely—go outside. Touch grass. Maybe read the menu again, slowly this time. It doesn’t claim to be traditional Southern cuisine. It says “Southern-inspired,” and if you can’t tell the difference, I’m not sure a blog post is going to help you. Castor isn’t trying to be something it’s not. It knows exactly what it is. And that confidence comes through in every plate, every pour, and every damn detail. The bar staff is always on point. The front of house is warm, intuitive, never overbearing. And the kitchen crew? They’re some of the hardest working people I’ve seen—scrappy, creative, dialed-in.
This is a team that has pushed Corvallis forward. A town that, for years, has been stuck in a purgatory of average brewpubs and tired fine dining concepts. Castor came in with something better. Not louder. Not flashier. Just better.
And every time I sit down there, I’m reminded of why I care about food in the first place. Why it’s worth celebrating when someone does it right. So to the folks at Castor—Danielle, Evan, Lilia, the whole crew—thank you. For the food, for the service, for letting me be a small part of your story. And to the reviewer who couldn’t taste past their expectations? I hope you stub your toe. Twice.
Photos taken and article written by Avery Hadley
“a one star reviewer”
