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Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
jake's famous crawfish
Jake's Famous Crawfish kicks off my ongoing "Stark Street Relief" series - rediscovering the burgeoning blocks between Ringler's Annex on Thirteenth and continuing down Stark Street to the freakishly hip Ace Hotel and the artsy Living Room Theaters at Tenth. I will be adding more coverage on the new Mcmenamins Hotel in downtown Portland, and I plan to check out Kenny and Zuke's deli as well as Clyde Commons. I will point out ways to enjoy the swank Living Room Theaters on the cheap.
Speaking of "on the cheap," I couldn't recommend Jake's happy hour more*. The star of the menu is the $1.95 Tillamook cheeseburger (!) with fries - FRIES, mind you! - complete with half a dill and mayo for dippin'. Also available for 2 bones is the spinach and artichoke dip, the blackened chicken sammich, pork pot stickers, shrimp spring rolls, tuna sushi rolls, and salmon cakes.
For 3.95:
Fried calimari
Buffalo chicken wings
Fried frog legs (interesting....)
Hawaiian BBQ pork ribs
Fried Shrimp
For 4.95:
Steamed mussels
Cod fish & chips
BBQ chicken quesadilla
Seafood soft tacos
The drinks aren't discounted (5 bucks a pint, but they have some unique selections on tap), but that's fine if you're just gonna grab a bite and a beer or two to kick off the night. Happy hour runs 4-6pm m-f, 9-close sun-thurs, and 10-close fri/sat. It can be hard to find a table at times; your best bet is to show up on a sunny day and enjoy sidewalk seating. I hear Jake's Grill down the street has similar deals, but I have yet to check it out.
SW 12th and Stark, downtown portland
*This is a lie. I could complain about the $5 pints, but that's just nitpicking.
Speaking of "on the cheap," I couldn't recommend Jake's happy hour more*. The star of the menu is the $1.95 Tillamook cheeseburger (!) with fries - FRIES, mind you! - complete with half a dill and mayo for dippin'. Also available for 2 bones is the spinach and artichoke dip, the blackened chicken sammich, pork pot stickers, shrimp spring rolls, tuna sushi rolls, and salmon cakes.
For 3.95:
Fried calimari
Buffalo chicken wings
Fried frog legs (interesting....)
Hawaiian BBQ pork ribs
Fried Shrimp
For 4.95:
Steamed mussels
Cod fish & chips
BBQ chicken quesadilla
Seafood soft tacos
The drinks aren't discounted (5 bucks a pint, but they have some unique selections on tap), but that's fine if you're just gonna grab a bite and a beer or two to kick off the night. Happy hour runs 4-6pm m-f, 9-close sun-thurs, and 10-close fri/sat. It can be hard to find a table at times; your best bet is to show up on a sunny day and enjoy sidewalk seating. I hear Jake's Grill down the street has similar deals, but I have yet to check it out.
SW 12th and Stark, downtown portland
*This is a lie. I could complain about the $5 pints, but that's just nitpicking.
goose hollow inn
The Goose Hollow Inn deck is amazing. If meeting up with friends and.or family on a pleasant day (or rainy, cold, windy, snowy day; doesn't matter, there's a covered and heated section) is your wont, tell 'em to meet you at the Goose Hollow. You can't go wrong here. It's across from the max station on SW 20th and Jefferson, directly off the Canyon Rd. exit on Sunset. The beers are served the way nature intended: in 20oz. imperial pints. The menu inspires indecision. The reuben is famous. The old men of Portland come here to smoke cigars and throw back cold ones undisturbed. This is former Portland mayor Bud Clark's institution since 1967.
There is no happy hour at the Goose Hollow Inn. Conversely, one might say the Goose Hollow is always in happy hour mode: everything is cheap. Go for the imperial pints of Henry's for 3 bucks (pitchers $6.75). Glasses of wine for less than $4. The reputable reuben is $8.75, the brisket of beef is $6.75, the turkey dip is 8 bucks. When I'm out with drinking buddies, because I'm a cheap-ass (hence this blog), I usually just go for the $2.50 garlic cheese bread and fill up on PBR ($2.50 imperials!) I will add more pictures of the deck shortly.
There is no happy hour at the Goose Hollow Inn. Conversely, one might say the Goose Hollow is always in happy hour mode: everything is cheap. Go for the imperial pints of Henry's for 3 bucks (pitchers $6.75). Glasses of wine for less than $4. The reputable reuben is $8.75, the brisket of beef is $6.75, the turkey dip is 8 bucks. When I'm out with drinking buddies, because I'm a cheap-ass (hence this blog), I usually just go for the $2.50 garlic cheese bread and fill up on PBR ($2.50 imperials!) I will add more pictures of the deck shortly.
just sighted...
Two quick blurbs I've noticed on my errands about town. Kenny and Zuke's is opening a new bagel joint/deli this month in Northwest. The new location is by Food Front grocery at NW 24th and Thurman. I zipped by Joe's Cellar, NW 21st and Pettigrove, and couldn't help but notice they're advertising $2 burgers from 4-6pm. I can't vouch for their burgers as I haven't tried 'em, but I recall their French Dip to be quite toothsome.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
the demise of dive bars and sparks
2009 marks the end of an era for many a vice aficionado. The Man - or as I prefer to deem the government's progressive intrusion into our lives, The Nanny - has snatched the smokes out of Portland bar dwellers' hands and the caffeine out of everyone's favorite cheap-ass orange liquified-smarties-tasting adult beverage.
That's right, smoking is banned in all bars. Establishments where adults 21 years of age and over have made the free-thinking decision to hang out at, even if there are plumes of smoke surrounding them. Those who choose to purchase tobacco, a legal product, and enjoy it in an environment where the owner of the property has allowed smoking will now be shown the door. As a side-effect, of course, the persons who would elect not to be around smoke in a bar are now forced to walk through large conglomerates of rowdy, drunken smokers occupying narrow sidewalks.
There were some hideously awesome dive bars in Portland. Tony's Tavern (below), with its seasoned imibers enjoying Rainier and cigarettes, where the food only comes in plain hot dog form. The Marathon Taverna, where the budget-minded drunkard can get a mini-pitcher of High Life and breakfast for under four bucks. Without the acquired fragrance of tobacco smoke to mask it, what do you suppose the Yamhill Pub will smell like? The answer, of course, is ass. Fear not; these bars will still exist. They will just be upgraded from dive bar status to watering hole, or tavern, maybe. What are the qualifications for a bar to be considered dive? There are a few that come to mind: the coin-operated juke box (bonus points for anything Iggy); pints of the lowest tier beer for a buck; bathroom stalls painted black and covered in graffiti that's written in liquid white-out pen; mechanical machines mounted on the wall that vend mini naked lady cards and condom extenders (saw one called the Night Stalker).
One requirement of dive status is clouds of cigarette pollution in the air and black plastic trays filled with crumpled-up filters and the mashed ends of spent American Spirits. That's the way we liked it, The Nanny, and you took that special brand of charm away from us. And so, the Portland dive bar goes the way of the Dodo, and your rights vanish into a puff of, yes, smoke. Them's the rules.
Funny thing is, I don't remember being offered the opportunity to vote on this issue. Oh yeah, we weren't given the luxury. I've listened to the various arguments and veered both ways on the issue, weaving left and right (sometimes literally, like after a night at Wimpy's.) A bar is a workplace for some after all, and why should the employees be subjected to the smoke? But... it's a workplace that was already filled with smoke when they walked in looking for a job. I can understand some people not wanting to have smoke thrusted upon them, in their burgundy ascots and hair and gorilla fur vests - but that's why they invented, like, Henry's Tavern, right? And all the other smoke-free bars, which were undoubtedly benefitting from their smoking counterparts by catering to a market that desired superior air. The selection of smoke-free bars was rapidly expanding on its own. Huber's, Portland's oldest bar, finally went non-smoking last year, Le Happy the year before. XV began allowing smoke only until 9pm, and most new establishments didn't want any of it.
Many of those who smoke don't seem to mind stepping outside. They'll shrug and say, "I should probably quit, anyway. The smoking ban will probably help." Oh, you may quit smoking, buddy-boy. But you'll also be quitting a slice of your freedom... cold turkey.
Next up on The Nanny's (not to be confused with Hulk Hogan's Mr. Nanny) list of vices to take away from fully grown human beings with minds of their own? Sparks. If you've never had the pleasure, imagine a can of alcoholic Fanta, but more magical and delivered in a tin vessel resembling a battery. Now, dump in a couple of No-Doz tablets, and 57 individual Smarties (which would probably fizz as they dissolve). Now, pour some pixie dust diligently collected from passed out sugarplum ferries. Throw in some taurine (latin for ox bile) for no apparent reason, and you have yourself a Sparks.
Except, now you'll have to take out the caffeine and taurine (which actually may prevent liver disease and reduce cirrhosis according to lab tests - thanks for looking out for us, Nan!), and get rid of the attractive and sleek battery can design - we can't have adult beverages looking cool or the teens might become interested. Which is what happened, and when high school students were drinking it in class, the teachers not knowing it contains alcohol (except for the 20-point text on the side of the can that states, CONTAINS ALCOHOL), a bunch of states sued the company that bought Sparks, Steel Brewing, claiming they were advertising to minors. The pussies over at Steel caved, and as part of the deal will be ruining the drink forever.
As for me, I will miss Sparks and treasure the serendipitous nights it kicked off. Like the night two people - similar but legally distict from me and my girlfriend - walked across the Burnside Bridge sporting sparks on the way to a John Vanderslice concert... Halloween nights, New Years Eves, Tuesdays and Fridays... They just won't be the same. I will have to find a safer beverage that The Nanny (not to be confused with Fran Drescher) approves of. Back to orange-flavored Mad Dogg for me...
That's right, smoking is banned in all bars. Establishments where adults 21 years of age and over have made the free-thinking decision to hang out at, even if there are plumes of smoke surrounding them. Those who choose to purchase tobacco, a legal product, and enjoy it in an environment where the owner of the property has allowed smoking will now be shown the door. As a side-effect, of course, the persons who would elect not to be around smoke in a bar are now forced to walk through large conglomerates of rowdy, drunken smokers occupying narrow sidewalks.
There were some hideously awesome dive bars in Portland. Tony's Tavern (below), with its seasoned imibers enjoying Rainier and cigarettes, where the food only comes in plain hot dog form. The Marathon Taverna, where the budget-minded drunkard can get a mini-pitcher of High Life and breakfast for under four bucks. Without the acquired fragrance of tobacco smoke to mask it, what do you suppose the Yamhill Pub will smell like? The answer, of course, is ass. Fear not; these bars will still exist. They will just be upgraded from dive bar status to watering hole, or tavern, maybe. What are the qualifications for a bar to be considered dive? There are a few that come to mind: the coin-operated juke box (bonus points for anything Iggy); pints of the lowest tier beer for a buck; bathroom stalls painted black and covered in graffiti that's written in liquid white-out pen; mechanical machines mounted on the wall that vend mini naked lady cards and condom extenders (saw one called the Night Stalker).
One requirement of dive status is clouds of cigarette pollution in the air and black plastic trays filled with crumpled-up filters and the mashed ends of spent American Spirits. That's the way we liked it, The Nanny, and you took that special brand of charm away from us. And so, the Portland dive bar goes the way of the Dodo, and your rights vanish into a puff of, yes, smoke. Them's the rules.
Funny thing is, I don't remember being offered the opportunity to vote on this issue. Oh yeah, we weren't given the luxury. I've listened to the various arguments and veered both ways on the issue, weaving left and right (sometimes literally, like after a night at Wimpy's.) A bar is a workplace for some after all, and why should the employees be subjected to the smoke? But... it's a workplace that was already filled with smoke when they walked in looking for a job. I can understand some people not wanting to have smoke thrusted upon them, in their burgundy ascots and hair and gorilla fur vests - but that's why they invented, like, Henry's Tavern, right? And all the other smoke-free bars, which were undoubtedly benefitting from their smoking counterparts by catering to a market that desired superior air. The selection of smoke-free bars was rapidly expanding on its own. Huber's, Portland's oldest bar, finally went non-smoking last year, Le Happy the year before. XV began allowing smoke only until 9pm, and most new establishments didn't want any of it.
Many of those who smoke don't seem to mind stepping outside. They'll shrug and say, "I should probably quit, anyway. The smoking ban will probably help." Oh, you may quit smoking, buddy-boy. But you'll also be quitting a slice of your freedom... cold turkey.
Next up on The Nanny's (not to be confused with Hulk Hogan's Mr. Nanny) list of vices to take away from fully grown human beings with minds of their own? Sparks. If you've never had the pleasure, imagine a can of alcoholic Fanta, but more magical and delivered in a tin vessel resembling a battery. Now, dump in a couple of No-Doz tablets, and 57 individual Smarties (which would probably fizz as they dissolve). Now, pour some pixie dust diligently collected from passed out sugarplum ferries. Throw in some taurine (latin for ox bile) for no apparent reason, and you have yourself a Sparks.
Except, now you'll have to take out the caffeine and taurine (which actually may prevent liver disease and reduce cirrhosis according to lab tests - thanks for looking out for us, Nan!), and get rid of the attractive and sleek battery can design - we can't have adult beverages looking cool or the teens might become interested. Which is what happened, and when high school students were drinking it in class, the teachers not knowing it contains alcohol (except for the 20-point text on the side of the can that states, CONTAINS ALCOHOL), a bunch of states sued the company that bought Sparks, Steel Brewing, claiming they were advertising to minors. The pussies over at Steel caved, and as part of the deal will be ruining the drink forever.
As for me, I will miss Sparks and treasure the serendipitous nights it kicked off. Like the night two people - similar but legally distict from me and my girlfriend - walked across the Burnside Bridge sporting sparks on the way to a John Vanderslice concert... Halloween nights, New Years Eves, Tuesdays and Fridays... They just won't be the same. I will have to find a safer beverage that The Nanny (not to be confused with Fran Drescher) approves of. Back to orange-flavored Mad Dogg for me...
Saturday, November 22, 2008
the Matador
Ah, the Matador on Burnsy. If you want to fill your head with inebriation and you're on a tight budget (and who isn't in these times of global economic climate change?), well, you've come to the right place, my friend. During Happy Hour from noon til seven, pints of Pabst flow for a buck, and strong well drinks go for $2.50. Don't bother ordering a double; it's quite unnecessary. Pitchers (the giant glass ones, not those plastic fake-pitchers) of PBR are always $6. They have good bar food, mostly under $6, including a generous portion of chicken wings. Two pool tables are available, DJs spin discs in the evenings, the air is filled with sweet, sweet smoke and Bowie's on the juke box. A fine mix of the hip, the geeky, the jocks, the sports fans, the punk rockers and the drunkards. You don't have to wear pants or even underthings, as my group discovered unwittingly one remarkable eve. The Matador is a big, all-encompassing tent, and its sturdy tentpole is the love of having a good time. This, gals and fellows, is what Portland's all about. Now go shotgun that Hamms tallboy.
20th and West Burnside.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
virginia cafe
Virginia Cafe has been a Portland drinkin'stitution since 19-something or other. I don't know, the 50's or something. (I looked it up - it can be traced back to 1922.) Back then, you could get a glass of wine for a dime, and a burger for 5 cents. Now, a cheeseburger's gonna run you about 7 bones, unless you show your face during happy hour, where it'll cost you an affordable 4 bucks (with fries!) Happy hour is from 4 til 7pm. Cheap beer will run you 2.75 draft, and 3.75 for the good stuff.
Nachos are 7 bucks, tater tots $4, chicken strips $5, as are popcorn shrimp and potato skins with broccoli and bacon. Czar Salad costs 5.75, or get an order of french fries or chips/salsa for $2.25.
You'll find the VC across from the Central Library on SW Tenth and Yamhill.
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