BAR PILOT

Bazi is Boss!

Come for the beer—stay for all the rest

Posted by: John Chandler on Aug 18, 2011 at 01:00PM 2 Comments

The Bosteels Quak, served in its own signature glass.

The value of a reliable neighborhood drinking establishment cannot be overstated. With Belgian beer bar Bazi Bierbrasserie (1522 SE 32nd Ave) only a couple blocks from my house, my outlook on life has improved tremendously. Perhaps it’s the Cheers factor: a cozy watering hole staffed by amiable folks. When I’m sitting at a sidewalk table casually sipping a malty, nourishing Delerium Tremens Ale, the weather always seems ideal, with just a suggestion of a breeze tousling my locks.

Could be it’s the head-spinning selection of Belgian beers —of the 17 rotating taps available, roughly 15 are dedicated to wild yeasty, complex ales brewed in Old World fashion. Most are imports (Duchesse de Bourgogne, Bosteels, Sint Canarus, to name a few), but a handful of regional breweries like Upright, Oakshire, and Double Mountain routinely appear. And if for some strange reason Belgians aren’t your cup of tea, the helpful servers are knowledgeable enough to guide you to something in your comfort zone.

Certainly the excellence of Bazi’s happy hour, which stretches leisurely between 3 pm and 7 pm daily, plays a significant role in my adoration. The specials include a $5 cocktail, usually something potent and tropical, along the lines of a blood orange mojito, or pepper-infused marguerita. Speaking of which, it would be perfectly understandable at such a bastion of beer if the cocktails were merely phoned in, but that is definitely not the case here. Johnny the bartender is as consistent as sundown in his mixological prowess and the Schipperke—Cruzan rum, blood orange, fresh lemon juice, and splash of simple syrup, served up—has become my girlfriend’s go-to drink. (And she’s ultra-picky!) In an effort to bridge the beverage gap, Bazi also boasts a dynamite beer cocktail, the Jeanneke, a Belgian beer-infused elixir that combines a tripel style beer, Monopolowa vodka, Aperol and Demerara simple syrup. It’s a real corker, as the fruit notes from the ale blend seamlessly with the apricot liqueur, resulting in a very robust refresher. The majority of the cocktails fall into the $7-8 range.

Stoemp of the day—pureed potatoes, green apples, bacon, and gruyere.

The happy hour menu has plenty of choice chow, such as the GAB burger ($6), an efficiently sized and thoroughly filling patty of beef from Highland Oaks Farm near Salem, topped with an egg. Normally, I don’t cotton to having yolk splashed all over my kisser, but here the egg works as a hearty binder for the juicy burger, and the flavors dance delightfully. There’s also a daily Stoemp special for $5, based on the traditional Belgian dish of pureed mash potatoes and an assortment of cheese and vegetables. On my last visit, the special featured potatoes, green apple slices, and gruyere. I should mention that paying the extra three $3 for bacon, ham, or sausage is money well spent. It’s an avalanche of tastes and textures that still manages to annihilate the pesky hunger pangs.

And then there are the frites (you know, French fries) which I count as being among the best in town. The Flemish frites ($2.50) are blanched and tossed with sea salt. They’re small and cooked to a severe crunch, but retain a delicate spudfulness (new word, write it down) especially when plopped into the silky house-made mayonnaise. (I prefer the invigorating curry variety.) The truffle frites are a little more expensive, but they’re earthier and more fragrant. Even the humble olive plate (marinated in garlic! Yum! $2) offers a superb alliance of flavors.

Frites to die for.

Never fear drinking buddies, I will continue to fearlessly patronize bars, taverns, pubs, and dives from Alberta Street to Wanker’s Corner, but I’ll tell you this: I sleep better at night knowing that my frites and beer needs are so brilliantly met, and so close to home.

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Tags: Southeast Portland, Happy Hour, Cheap Eats, Belgian Beer, Bazi Bierbrasserie

Happy Hour: Oswego Grill

A confluence of comfort and style

Posted by: Chelsea Fitch on Jul 11, 2011 at 10:00AM 2 Comments

Photo: Chelsea Fitch

Growing up around these parts has taught me two crucial survival skills: (1) Never expect (or accept) an average meal and (2) not drinking local is a sin against the Portland brewery gods. If I can get through a happy hour with at least one of these skills, I am often still pleased—and such is the case with Oswego Grill, a posh pit stop south of Portland just off I-5 (3-6 pm & 9 pm-close).

Walking in the door, the old-world, dark wood appointments and obsessively polished bar and tables made my jeans and bright yellow top stick out like a tie-dye T-shirt among the business suits, pearls, and sweater sets, but the staff didn’t think twice about this fashion faux pas and seated us promptly with non-phony smiles. (No walking in and plopping down at any table here, even in the bar.)

At first glance the down-home menu was surprising for such a swanky watering hole. With comfort food options and fresh summery drinks, I was definitely put off guard at this oxymoron, they were calling happy hour. My first stab at the menu was the mac & cheese, and at $2.95, it was a steal. The baked dish had a shocking spicy pepper kick yet maintained a creamy, buttery, thick sauce making it more of a "grown-up mac & cheese” that I instantly devoured despite my tendency to want to hold my fork with my pinky extended high in the air.

Photo: Chelsea Fitch

Pork tenderloin sliders and fries, a sweet deal at $2.95.

My friends went the more seasonal bbq route ordering the Pork Tenderloin Sliders ($2.95, and they come with fries!) and mozzarella wedges ($2.95), which were deftly described by my companions as "a tangy wonderland of summer.” Looking around I saw nothing but joy and gusto on the faces of office drones lustily shoveling down elegantly prepared chicken nachos ($3.95), chicken and cheese quesadillas ($2.95), and fish tacos ($2.95). The menu, a cunning blend of comfort food with a splash of gourmet, definitely fit my “I’m pretending to be a suit and tie but honestly I couldn’t care less” budget.

While the homey food passed my first survival skill, the brew selection fell short. Pints of beer are a $1 off during Happy Hour, but don’t get your hopes up for a wide selection of local tastes. They offer Widmer Hefeweizen and a Ninkasi IPA on rotating tap, but with a hometown handle like Oswego Grill, I would have expected a stronger regional selection.

Where the grill lacks in locals, the cocktails shined forth in the dark, mood-lit bar. The consensus favorites of the afternoon were the Blueberry Drop ($7.50) and the passion fruit mojito ($8), both with made fresh fruit and a judicious layering of lemon. Sadly, the Very Berry Lemonade ($6), a seemingly can’t-miss summer refresher, was sorely lacking in the bright-flavor department. My advice? Stick to the fresh-fruit house-made cocktails for a bracing beverage.

Photo: Chelsea Fitch

The blueberry drop in a chilled glass, $7.50.

Even though I felt like “Annie Get Your Gun” among financial execs and proper ladies, the Oswego Grill is a great happy hour for when you’re in the mood to spoil yourself with comfort food gussied up with stylish accents. I’m in no danger of becoming a regular—the bill can add up fairly quickly and I’d have to pilfer my grandmother’s broach and a cardigan—but it’s a solid and serviceable happy hour nonetheless.

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Tags: Lake Oswego & West Linn, Happy Hour, Cocktails, Cheap Eats

Take the Fifth

Cinco de Mayo happenings are plentiful

Posted by: John Chandler on May 05, 2011 at 10:00AM 3 Comments

Happy Cinco de Mayo drinking buddies! (It’s also my birthday but that’s not important—unless you’re shopping for presents!) It’s another damp day here in Puddle Town—but if we let every drop of moisture dampen our celebratory spirits, we would be a community of crabby old ladies with yappy little dogs that sit inside all day watching The 700 Club. And that can’t happen on my watch! So here’s an assortment of fiestas, fetes, and fun blowing up somewhere near you.

• The fiesta grande is the annual Cinco de Mayo festival at Tom McCall Waterfront Park, a nonstop tilt-a-whirl of food, fireworks, music, crafts, dance—and wrestling! On Saturday and Sunday a half-dozen masked luchadores will lay the smack down alongside six less exotic grapplers from Portland. If you’ve not witnessed the spectacle that is Mexican wrestling, you’re in for a high-flying display of aerial artistry. Here’s a sample!

• A different sort of eye-catching excitement is in store at Dames and Games at the Bossanova, where some beauteous burlesque babes will be shaking and shimmying, and guests can play Loteria (the Mexican version of bingo) for an assortment of enviable prizes.

• Tomorrow, Dude wannabes can don their most radiant robes and head over to the Bagdad Theater for Cinco de Lebowski, the annual gathering of Lebowski Achievers, for a screening of The Big Lebowski hosted by podcast poobahs Cort and Fatboy.

• Hop on the bus, Gus. Portland’s Queen of the Scene, Jen Lane, will be conducting another madcap tour of local drinking establishments on the Cinco de Drinko del Seis on Friday night. The Bar Pilot has taken this trip on a number of occasions resulting in many fond memories that I can’t recall.

• Keep your mind out of the gutter! Win a passel of prizes by throwing strikes at Grand Central Bowl’s Cinco de Mayo fiesta.

Eat and Drink Specials

• Mexican beers for $2 all day at Olé Olé.

• Oba will be hosting a huge party with flamenco dancers, art, music—and the $5 cover includes two drink tickets for margaritas!

• Tear into tacos and fine farmhouse ales at the Hop & Vine.

• It’s $5 margaritas at all Bruce Carey restaurants.

• Win $50 at the Dixie Tavern’s hot pepper-eating contest. And watch out for the giant beer can piñatas!

Buene suerte, amigos!

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Tags: Holiday Events, Cheap Eats, Cinco de Mayo, Margaritas, Burlesque

Happy Hour of the Week

More than beer at Burnside

Posted by: Philip Gaudette on Mar 29, 2011 at 11:00AM 4 Comments

Everywhere I look nowadays there’s a new pub or beer bar: Breakside, Apex, Migration, Coalition, Plew’s Brews, etc. You’d think Portland would burst at the seams, spilling hoppy run-off into the Willamette. Yet somehow we soak up all this beer and never hit a saturation point. Are we spoiled? Burnside Brewing Co., the latest venture by Jason McAdam (Roots Organic Brewing), wants us to think we are. With a locally based array of artisan cured meats and pickled snacks, we’re talking about a food menu that’s several culinary rungs above beer nuts and rubbery wings. Oh, and the beer’s pretty good too.

Located at Seventh and East Burnside, the first thing I noticed about Burnside Brewing was that I never noticed anything before. What I mean by that is, I’ve been up and down this block a gajillion times, and I’ve never, not ever, glanced at this location. Maybe it’s the giant Timbers billboard on the adjoining building that always caught my eye, but I was surprised to see Burnside Brewing right there, across from Rontoms, Le Pigeon, and Farm. It’s odd that from the street this new brew venue bears a striking resemblance to a Verizon dealership. It’s a tricky juxtapose, because the inside features a high, fir-beamed, Nostrana-esque ceiling paired with clean, new wave industrial design, all of which seems properly trendy for a Portland pub.

Kitschy abstract art hung on the walls, and a giant blackboard surrounded by driftwood from the Willamette proudly announced the specials throughout the week. Other than that the space is pretty bare, and I caught myself thinking more than once that it seemed like an Ikea template: new, but not lived in. But the enormous handmade black walnut bar, combined with the strains of “Ziggy Stardust” bopping over the speakers, quickly won us over.

Happy Hour at Burnside Brewing occurs during the not-all-that happy hours of 3-6 pm. Even so, the bar was jamming, and when we sat down our server immediately poured four generous samples of Burnside house brews, a welcome orientation to newbie clients and a smart way to sell their drafts. The main draw for Happy Hour is the 20 oz imperial pints, which go for a sweet $3.50 ($3 all day on Wednesday). This is a glass of beer with some serious heft, one that encourages thoughtful consumption. Or you could spice things up with a glass of wine for $5 (a bottle is $18), but if you take a look around, chances are you’ll notice everyone at the bar drinking the same thing: Burnside Brewing’s Sweet Heat. This li’l number is a wheat beer brewed with over 200 pounds of apricots, then dry-hopped with imported Jamaican Scotch Bonnet peppers. At first gulp I was unimpressed; despite everyone at the bar slurping happily, I found it more akin to an apricot soda gone flat. But wait! An alluring aftertaste developed, a soft ping of spice at the back of my throat, and the next thing I knew I was eagerly draining my pint for its refreshing kick. You will want to drink Sweet Heat all summer. And unlike Pyramid’s Apricot Ale (and despite the name) this isn’t an annoyingly cloying quaff—think pale ale with a hint of fruitiness. Since the eight people next to me were all drinking it, I felt somewhat beer-pressured. Now I count myself as an apricot believer.

My friend James stuck with the reliable Burnside IPA, and I had the Stock Ale next, a rather tasty year-round pleaser in the ESB family. Some bars relish having dozens of beers on tap, with menus that require a table of contents, but all I really need are the basics: IPA, ESB, stout, a pilsner or wheat, and I’m good to go. And that’s pretty much what we have here (with more on the way), in addition to some guest taps.

The Brat Burger

I wasn’t feeling too hungry, but an open kitchen does wonders for an appetite; we watched with glazed eyes as piles of fresh fries wafted over tender pork sliders and smoky grilled cheddar sandwiches, while two cooks assembled a variety of carnivorous snacks. My first beer came coupled with the Brat Burger ($6), a formidable mound of meat slathered with kraut and Dijon on a pretzel roll. The roll was a nice touch, but the thin slice allowed my burger to fall apart halfway through. James ordered the spicy pickled pork slider ($5), which maintained its structural integrity, but drew mixed reviews from us due to the pool of cold sauce it came soaking in. Was it to counteract the potent burn of the pork? We remained undecided, but the spice lingered in our bellies for some time.

We finished up with the humble pickle platter ($4), a zesty medley of beets, beans, and cucumber slices that really delivered a kick. We actually fought over who got the last green bean (we diplomatically cut it in half, but it was totally mine). Thankfully no one was hurt.

When it comes down to it, the fatty pints give this place an edge. I measured almost no head on both beers, so rest assured you’re getting the most out of that $3.50 (hey, some of us are on a budget—the little things matter). They’ve got some respectable beers here that are well worth checking out. The chow was intriguing, if a bit inconsistent, but since Burnside Brewing has only been open for a few months, these nitpicks can slide. In the meantime, I’ll be back on Wednesday for the $3 imperial pints.

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Tags: Happy Hour, Cheap Eats, Burnside Brewing

Montavilla After Dark

A pocket of PDX that’s got it all

Posted by: John Chandler on Mar 24, 2011 at 11:00AM 4 Comments

Just got off the phone with an old friend (at my age, all friends are old by default) who’s coming to town over the weekend. Naturally, he wanted to consult with the Bar Pilot about where to go, what to do, and how much it will cost. Ordinarily I’d recommend the usual Chamber of Commerce swanky-pants joints like The Benson, Teardrop Lounge, or Clyde Common, but it being the weekend those places will undoubtedly be stuffed like frat boys in a phone booth (really dated reference). Sure, you could fork over a king’s ransom for a place to park downtown and rub elbows with belligerent bridge-and-tunnel clowns staggering hither and yon on their perpetual prom night drunk-a-thon, but it ain’t my bag, and in good conscience, I can’t recommend this adventure to wide-eyed tourists, as it might convey the false impression that Portlanders are a bunch of raging yahoos.

Instead, I suggested the same ramble I took with a few chums last Saturday night, exploring the Montavilla neighborhood. What’s not to like? Here’s a ‘hood with everything. Top-notch dining options like Country Cat, Ya Hala’s and Flying Pie are conveniently tucked next to a buffet of bars and clubs of all description. We began our sojourn at Roscoe’s, which has evolved from a charmless dive bar to a more-than-adequate beer and sports pub. The tap selection is well-curated with ales from Fort George, Caldera, and Russian River, among others, and the bar food (po’ boys, bison burgers, mac and cheese variations) is rib-sticking and reasonable. Fast and friendly waitstaff, too.

Po’ boy and tots at Roscoe’s.

After getting our beer on, we traipsed over to The Observatory for a classy cocktail. The dusky, inviting main room was a hive of activity, so we discretely made our way to the second bar in the back called the Over and Out (two bars in one!), which has more of a rumpus room feel to it, with five pinball machines, pool, and an identical drink menu. Speaking of which, the Spiced Manhattan ($7) with its gallimaufry of flavors (sweet, smoky, clove, ginger) is an intriguing cocktail with which I would like to get better acquainted. For folks who enjoy flames issuing forth from their mouth, nose, and ears, take a chance on the Bloody Morimoto ($7, named after the coolest Iron Chef) that sports wasabi vodka, sake, sriracha bloody mary mix and a wasabi-salt rim.

With the polite drinking out of the way, we eagerly scampered across SE 82nd to one of my all-time favorite dives, Chinese Village, the coal-dark capacious drinking den that features murderously strong well drinks, a kitschy thatched awning that covers the booths in the back, a righteous juke (Dead Moon!) and some of the fanciest Chinoiserie in Portland. That is, it used to have all these things. Now it has all the charm of a roadside rest room, as management had the brilliant idea to remove all the nifty nickknacks in favor of more video poker machines and a karaoke set-up. That’s awesome. Instead of legions of slumming hipsters flashing trust-fund dough, Chinese Village will cater strictly to local lushes on disability and degenerate gamblers. There is now no reason to go. And I won’t. I’m certain that the video crack machines will bring a momentary upsurge in monetary liquidity, but by removing its only distinctive features, Chinese Village has doomed itself—and its beckoning neon sign will mark the place as a Flying Dutchman inhabited by lost souls.

Burn baby, burn. The 99 and a Half at The Vintage.

To wash the bitter taste of “progress” out of our minds, we opted for a night cap at The Vintage, a teensy little bar with a lengthy cocktail list. My friend Lucy foolishly agreed to let me buy her final drink of the evening, and when I read about the so-called 99 and a Half ($10), I knew I’d found a winner. I watched spellbound as the bartender mixed Maker’s Mark and Cynar (the Italian artichoke liqueur) with ice in a pint glass. She then poured green Chartreuse into a wine glass and set it alight before straining the first mixture into the wine glass to douse the flames. (Safety first, kids!) Finally she singed a bit of orange peel and threw it in as a smoking garnish. The look on Lucy’s face changed from anxious to awed in a twinkling. For who knows what reason, the combination of burnt orange, artichoke, and smoldering bourbon coalesced into a brawny drink with compelling smoke and citrus shading. I, on the other had, made do with an Old Screw ($6), a what-the-hell concoction made with house scotch, St. Germain elderflower liqueur, and a dash of allspice. My lingering rage over the artless gutting of a beloved dive soon gave way to grim acceptance and a comfy buzz.

As we made our way out the door I took in the width and breadth of SE Stark. Just down the street folks were filing out of the Academy Theater, a handsome second-run movie house with beer and pizza. It’s yet another place to tarry, as is Thatcher’s a venerable dance club also located nearby. And if you really want to end the evening with a bang, there’s Portland Tub and Tan which stays open till 1 am on Fridays and Saturdays. I also happen to know it has a Roman bath-themed area and a disco room—unless the owners decided to scrap the concept and go with video poker. Wouldn’t surprise me a bit.

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Tags: Craft Beers, Stumble Zone, Cheap Eats, Dive Bars, The Observatory, The Vintage

Happy Hour of the Week

Night Light does it right

Posted by: John Chandler on Mar 22, 2011 at 11:00AM 5 Comments

Till I’m blue in the face I’ve said it. The success or failure of a Happy Hour depends mostly on the little things—the willingness of the staff to put out (don’t—just don’t) and make it a special occasion every time Joe Bohemian and Sally Thriftstore-Waife sashay through the door. Congratulations to the Night Light Lounge on SE Clinton, ‘cause you thoroughly understand the concept of Happy Hour, which explains why you’re always packed to the gills. And for venues who are having trouble getting butts in the seats during the after-work exodus, I suggest you take notes.

First of all, the hours are generous. From 2-7 Monday-Friday and 11 pm – 1 am Thursday-Sunday you can get special prices on food, beer—and wine. This is good news for oenophiles. My more elegant companions are frequently in a lather over having to pay full price for a glass of vino during Happy Hour whilst the rest of us are contentedly lapping up cheap beers. Anyway, the duration of Happy Hour here is such that you aren’t under insane pressure to immediately decide on snacks and swill. Even if you’re a clever little bug and order a whole bunch of food at once, chances are it will be cold, gooey, and hideous by the time you’re ready for another round. On a non-HH note, the Night Light hosts a reasonably priced brunch every Saturday and Sunday between 10-2.

Night Light offers 50 cents off wells, $1.50 PBRs, $3.50 micros, $4 for a 20-oz Guinness, and $1 off all wine by the glass. Like I said, generous.

Speaking of which, there are also five seating options to accommodate parties of all shapes and sizes, including a bustling main room with a couple of comfy couch pods; seats at the bar if you want to keep the bartender in sight at all times; a smaller back room for a dab of privacy; a rustic smoking deck; and a half-dozen sidewalk four-tops for those who listened to their mothers and brought along sweaters.

On the food front, it’s basic but bountiful. The nachos ($4) get a thumbs-up thanks to the fresh-made tortilla chips, which serve as yummy and durable corn saucers bearing payloads of beans and cheese to your waiting gob. The quesadilla ($3) is serviceable but really receives a boost from a splash of chipotle tomatillo salsa adding some zest to the three cheeses on parade. You certainly can’t go wrong with a hearty grilled cheese sammy and a cup of tomato soup for $5, especially if there’s a chill in the air and you didn’t listen to Mom and bring a sweater. Instant warmth. And while they aren’t offered at a discount, the Oregon Buffalo Slider ($4) with dried figs, bleu cheese, tomato, fried onions, and Mexican chocolate au jus is a required course for aficionados of the small-burger movement; when cheese and chocolate connect it’s like Romeo and Juliet, baby. Except you eat them.

Cocktail connoisseurs will have plenty of possibilities to ponder from the $7 signature cocktails menu. I normally have little patience for gimmicky drinks (unless you’re buying), but the Pineapple Habañero Cosmo is hard to resist with its mix of fire and fruit. The Jamaican Mule, served in a tall glass with ginger-infused Deco rum, is another can’t-miss choice. The Stumptown Nudge combines Godiva chocolate, kahlua, brandy, and Stumptown coffee. It must be fairly tasty; the gal one booth over was making Meg Ryan orgasm sounds with every sip.

Considering that the Night Light has a fiercely loyal neighborhood following who seem to be present around the clock, it’s also amazing that the waitstaff is so fast and friendly. The Night Light is a tight ship, from the bartenders to waitresses, everyone is on the same page. And finally, a personal observation. The folks at BarFly mag are correct: the clientele is quite attractive.

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Tags: Happy Hour, Cheap Eats, Southeast

Happy Hour of the Week

Green Dragon has it all—but could be better

Posted by: John Chandler on Feb 16, 2011 at 10:00AM 7 Comments

Happy Hour ain’t rocket science. All you need are a few simple ingredients, namely a cheap, but tasty food menu, and some kind of token drink discount. The Green Dragon (928 SE Ninth Ave), a Southeast industrial-decked pub that operates like Batteries Plus for beer, almost nails it.

My afternoon spent at this Rogue Brewing satellite operation was surprisingly pleasant. I’d heard nothing but tales of terror about an inattentive waitstaff, and this turned out not to be the case at all. Our waitress was prompt as microwave popcorn. She speedily delivered food and drinks with a smile and even made a serviceable off-the-cuff joke. (Me: What are these fries seasoned with? Her: Considering how many I eat, probably crack.) OK, so it isn’t Last Comic Standing. But they were hella busy.

The Green Dragon’s Happy Hour is 4-6 daily and 9-close Sun–Wed; 10-close Thu–Sat. The food menu offers an array of savory snacks ranging from $3-5, including a cone of Belgian-style fries ($3) that disappear faster than Justin Bieber heading to the limo apres concert. Seasoned with a salt, parsley, pepper combination (and probably some mysterious secret ingredient—crack?) the fries have a very slight herbal sweetness that adds a winning complexity to the most basic of Happy Hour sides. Anyway, my chums and I powered through two orders. Another dish that got double ordered was the bratwurst bites ($4) with whole grain mustard. I was expecting a pedestrian slab of sausage diced into poker chips. What arrived at the table was a basket of individually grilled brat slices (each crispy with a little char) that were begging on hands and knees to be plunged into the vibrantly tangy grain mustard. We obliged. On the down side, there was nothing to recommend the pulled pork slider ($4). The meat was dry and flavorless, with buns by Wonder. Next time we’ll jump on the beer-battered cod and fries ($5). There was a dude behind me chowing down on an order with such noisy abandon, that we almost “shssshed” him.

Of course, any trip to Green Dragon is going to be primarily about the beer and there’s 50 taps ($4.75-6) to choose from, with a fresh menu appearing daily. I decided to try the Chamomellow Ale, a Rogue recipe that’s now being produced under Green Dragon’s in-house Buckman Village Brewing label. With chamomile as a primary ingredient, what you get is a floral golden ale with a sneaky, spicy pumpkin pie flavor nestled into the mix. It’s crisp and invigorating, and proved to be a sufficient motivator to inspire a return visit on my behalf. Among the dozens of guest taps, I can recommend the rich and malty Anchor Bock and the devastating North Coast Old Rasputin, a superb roasty-toasty stout that packs a 9 percent alcohol punch. The beer selection is a true embarrassment of riches.

Here’s my only beef: With 50 beers on tap, couldn’t one or two be featured as a “special” during Happy Hour? Maybe $3.50 a pint? Please? Come on lads, let’s make a good thing even better.

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Tags: Happy Hour, Cheap Eats, Rogue Ales, Buckman Village Brewing

Happy Hour of the Week

Warming up to the Bonfire

Posted by: John Chandler on Jan 18, 2011 at 01:00PM 8 Comments

Yes, I am listening. When I ask friends, family, and weirdos I meet on the bus about Happy Hour, I take note of their responses—and I’m always asking. Seriously, I was considering "Where do you go? and “What do you like about it?” as facial tattoos in order to save time. It is because of my manic insistence on due diligence that I approached the Bonfire Lounge on SE Stark St with mixed feelings. It’s definitely a popular spot—but not for everybody, apparently. “Oh, it’s full of insufferable hipsters,” was the litany that was repeated to me with the frequency of a Buddhist serenity chant.

The Bonfire Lounge is a hipster haven. This is not a matter of opinion. During my initial visit I couldn’t help noticing that all six of the other customers were at least 20 years my junior and I was the only one present without a bike messenger bag. Not only that, but one of the chaps at the bar was reciting dialogue from the debut episode of Portlandia, a new TV show about—what else?—the quirky nature of Portland bohemian culture. Is it just me or is it getting awfully meta in here?

Even so, I didn’t feel conspicuous or out of place, and the bartender/waitress was both sunny and swift. Besides, Happy Hour there is a whopping five hours long from 2-7 daily, with food and drink options aplenty. And anyone feeling alienated by the current face of youth culture would do well to spread out a little, since there are four distinct areas for your lollygagging pleasure. The picnic tables out front are usually occupied by animated small groups and loners with dogs or bike helmets. The bar area is for the FOTB (friends of the bartender) crowd, where conversation topics include current events (who hooked up with who) sports (what they did after hooking up), and the whether (whether or not they’re still at it). There’s also a slender dining nook and a game room with pool tables and a few video games. The tomato-soup walls keep the interior suitably dim, and the black-and-white checkered tile gives one the impression of being a sentient chess piece on the way to the restroom (especially after a few pints).

The Happy Hour items aren’t especially brilliant or innovative, but a hungry fellow can do quite well here for under $5. The menu features a pair of zesty chicken verde tacos (jerked pork and ahi tuna versions also available for a little extra coin), hummus and pita, chicken or cheese quesadilla, gyros, and a perfectly serivceable hamburger for $3.50 apiece. The latter was reasonably sized and quite tasty (neither a slider nor a behemoth) in its own humble bar burger fashion. When I asked the waitress where the meat was sourced, she looked amused. “It’s just basic beef,” she explained, as if I was the winner of the World’s Biggest Schmuck competition.

Beer is a buck off during Happy Hour which means $3 pints of local libations such as Alameda Wheat or Hopworks DOA strong ale, along with Trumer Pils, Terminal Gravity IPA, and Red Seal Ale. For more proletarian tastes, pints of Miller High Life are a mere $1.50. So for $5 you can have a burger and a pint. When the good Lord created lunch, this is what he had in mind. And if you’re in the mood for a stronger spirit, there’s usually a featured brand for a dollar off, in this case, it was Basil Hayden’s bourbon, always a good call. I selected a Hoté Maté ($7) from the hot drink menu and was rewarded with a potent pick-me-up (yerba maté tea serves as the basis for this cocktail) that sports a shot of house-infused cinnamon and vanilla rum. All good except the vanilla. Taste-wise, it just didn’t belong in such heady company.

If you’re really and truly freaked out about bending an elbow with the young ‘uns you can, of course, seek your pleasures elsewhere. But as a well-intentioned geezer myself, I tell you this: I will be back. The duration of the Happy Hour is generous and $3 pints are a big fat bargain. Besides, it’s imperative in these uncertain times to keep the cross-generational lines of communication open. How else are we supposed to learn anything? Get over yourself and get over to Bonfire Lounge.

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Tags: Happy Hour, Craft Beers, Cheap Eats, Bonfire Lounge, Portlandia

Happy Hour of the Week

Rolling with Miss Delta

Posted by: John Chandler on Dec 06, 2010 at 11:00AM 3 Comments

“I like these cold, gray winter days. Days like these let you savor a bad mood.”

I can’t remember if the preceding quote was from Thomas Hobbes or Calvin and Hobbes, but it suits me. Having never lived anywhere other than Oregon, you would think my system is perfectly attuned to cold, wet, and dismal days. And so it is. But it’s on days like these that a little hot coal of anger can do wonders for keeping a body focused and ambulatory.

In retrospect, I probably should have put off reviewing a Happy Hour until I was in a better mood. The source of my grouchiness was really nothing specific, but can be scientifically explained by reading this incredibly insightful post from Hyperbole and a Half, a website recently endorsed by our own Anne at Culturephile.

Enough exposition. By the time I arrived at Miss Delta on N Mississippi, it was dark, rainy, and tragically cold. I wasn’t feeling social, glib, or especially inquisitive. But I was really hungry, and so it was that my base instincts triumphed over my smoldering resentment of the universe. Miss Delta is the slightly-less-thrift-store-funky offspring of the original Delta Cafe on SE Woodstock, a joint that earned its rep by dropping huge platters of Southern cooking on its customers for embarrassingly small sums of money. I can remember ordering the meatloaf special—with two sides—for five freakin’ dollars. The Delta was never a bastion of culinary precision, and that’s still the case, but the heaping portions are standard issue, and if you can make it to Happy Hour (3-6 daily), the prices are straight out of the late 20th century.

Let’s start with that ubiquitous trailer-park staple, meatloaf. The kitchen crew at Miss Delta aren’t shy about repurposing the chow, as evidenced by my meatloaf mac and cheese ($6), and my brother’s meatloaf po’ boy ($6). We were told that the meatloaf is made with a revolving variety of ingredients on a regular basis, and that we were currently eating the last of the Thanksgiving loaf, made from ground turkey, bell peppers, and onions. The meatloaf mac was pasted with a savory cheese blend of cheddar, parmesan, and an especially smoky jack, that simultaneously succeeded in warming me up and putting a damper on my grumpiness. While my friend Lucy went off to make a phone call, I selflessly helped myself to her jambalaya ($6), a dish spicy enough to thaw out a woolly mammoth. Loaded with andouile sausage, smoked chicken, okra, and shrimp, it’s a melange of Cajun coziness and peppery power. Again, precision is not the name of the game here; if you’re offended by the presence of whole garlic cloves hiding amidst the other ingredients, then this isn’t your picnic.

The black-eyed pea fritters ($4), accompanied by a brawny green chili and cheese sauce, fills the requirements of a bread course (starchy, crusty), only with more bite and a dipping sauce that could prove habit forming. The collard greens ($3, there is a vegan option) was a little light on the pork, though the greens were impeccably cooked and packed plenty of vinegar kick.

The draught beer selection is small and could use a few more local brands, but I can’t gripe about Lagunitas IPA and Abita Turbodog, both worthy specimens at $3 a pint during Happy Hour. The cocktails are mostly standards with the name of a staff member affixed to it as a mark of quality assurance, such as Darla’s Sensational Sidecar and Melissey’s Best Manhattan. I opted for Arlene’s Hottest Toddy ($7), a fortifying blend of Jim Beam, Barenjager honey liqueur, lemon and hot water. garnished with cinnamon and whole cloves. It made me smile for the first time in three days.

While hardcore foodies may not be delighted with Miss Delta’s “camp stew” approach to meal prep, those of us in need of seasonal solace and a smiling waitress are well served. Don’t forget that winter lasts for approximately 8 1/2 months in Portland—and that requires a lot of comforting.

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Tags: Happy Hour, North Dining, Cheap Eats, NoPo, Miss Delta

Happy Hour of the Week

Great plates at Ate Oh Ate

Posted by: John Chandler on Nov 09, 2010 at 10:00AM 6 Comments

Korean chicken—feel the burn.

What’s the Bar Pilot’s equivalent of “don’t judge a book by it’s cover?” Probably something along the lines of “don’t diss a dive by its decor” or “don’t bad-mouth a bar because of its booths.” You get the idea, I think.

Case in point: Last week I visited a very upscale restaurant to partake of Happy Hour in its bee-yoo-tee-ful patio lounge. With three fire pits, immaculate landscaping, and a decorative wall of foliage, even a member of society’s flotsam like myself felt VIP-worthy for a short time. Of course, I paid for the privilege, and was rewarded with two feeble cocktails and a plate of undercooked calamari. Pricey. Waste. Of. Time.

In an effort to revive flagging spirits, my three-person posse ambled over to Ate Oh Ate (a play on the Honolulu area code) on East Burnside for some Hawaiian comfort food. This humble little cafeteria—order at the counter and then plant yourself—is part of Ben Dyer’s burgeoning Simpatica/Laurelhurst Market empire which automatically gives it the local foodie seal of approval. The decor is subtle: there are surf-shack knickknacks scattered hither and yon, and the walls are painted sea-of-tranquility blue. And that’s about it. But the dough they didn’t spend on ambiance is passed along to you, the hungry customer. There’s nothing on the menu over $10.95 and the portions are tsunami-sized.

Three kalua pork sliders for $5.

Happy Hour is from 4-6 daily and includes a half-dozen delightful plates ($2-5) that can be passed around luau style. Five dollars gets you five ample Korean chicken drumsticks that require an acre or two of napkins to keep your kisser clean. The smoldering chili marinade is augmented with pepper and a gentle brush-stroke of teriyaki sweetness that ensures leisurely finger-licking with each bite. The spam musubi tempura ($2) is an island version of sushi, with a tempura batter-fried shell of rice protecting a core of egg and spam. It comes with thousand-island dipping sauce—apply liberally. There are two varieties of sliders (three for $5), namely kalua pork and shoyu chicken. They were out of the chicken during my second visit (sad face emoticon) but the succulent and generously piled pig was a worthy consolation prize.

Needless to say, you can eschew the appetizers and saddle up for a full entree if you so desire. The Loco Moco ($10.95) is a substantial and highly authentic example of Hawaiian-plate cuisine, with a hamburger patty, rice, fried eggs, and a coat of Shiitake gravy heaped in beguiling fashion onto a very crowded dish. The saimin ($8.95), is like a Hawaiian pho; a vast bowl of noodles swimming in a sea of shrimp, chicken, and pork broth bolstered with reefs of fish cake, pork belly, and eggs. The ebb and flow of flavors is relentless and requires some meditation to sort out the sweet, salty, and sour sensations. The kalua pig ($8.95) is a happy mound of smoked and roasted pork shoulder that manages to be both light and luscious.

And an icy bucket of Hawaiian beer to wash it down.

And let’s not overlook the liquid refreshments. The mai tai ($8 in a pint glass) offers an instant blast of sweetness that’s brought back to earth thanks to the tangy fresh pineapple juice, while the light and dark rums mingle most effectively. It’s probably the tastiest tropical drink I’ve bought since my last island sojourn. There’s also PROG (passion fruit, rum, orange, and guava) and a traditional Dark and Stormy (dark rum and ginger beer) for about the same price. If you’ve got a group in tow, then a five-bottle bucket of Primo ($10), a surprisingly full-bodied Hawaiian lager, is a smart option. The modestly hopped brew does wonders for rinsing your palate clean of chili paste, peppers, and the ever-present tide of teriyaki.

During my second visit, my friends and I wiled away the entire two hours, sharing plates, drinks, and scintillating stories, completely indifferent to the stormy weather pattern that was developing outside. When you have such a winning variety of spicy dishes, full of exotically bold flavor combinations laid out at your table, conjuring up a little tropical paradise of your very own is child’s play.

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Tags: Happy Hour, Cocktails, Cheap Eats, Ben Dyer, Ate Oh Ate, Tropical Bars

Happy Hour of the Week

Miho Izakaya is a worthy destination

Posted by: John Chandler on Oct 26, 2010 at 11:00AM 3 Comments

I am a heel. Either that or I should get a drivers license.

Miho Izakaya, the absolutely adorable (just like Hello Kitty!) Japanese eatery on N. Interstate has been open for an entire year. My buddy Michael Carothers is the co-owner and every time I see him I make all kinds of vague promises that I will soon be darkening his doorstep. But I’m a Southeaster and I tend to view other quadrants of town with suspicion. Besides, me no have car. So, armed with the flimsiest excuses imaginable, I’ve been putting off a visit for 13 months. I am a wretched reviewer. Commence throwing vegetables.

It turns out I’ve been missing out on some of the tastiest and most original small-plates in town, as well as a new go-to destination for group noshing. Miho Izakaya is a mere 16 minutes from downtown on the Yellow Line Max and I managed to transport my bulk with little effort. Located right across the street from The Alibi, MH resides in a rather humble house with a spacious patio that undoubtedly gets packed to capacity during warm weather. I’m not sure if it was just a side-effect of the dark, dank weather, but the little pub also exudes a very definite welcoming vibe. Not all Japanese houses are like this (see the film Hausu).

Slow-cooked pork and brussel sprouts. Nom, nom, nom.

The layout manages to be both intimate and expansive. There are three separate areas to kick back in, including a traditional tatami room for those who crave a genuine Japanese culinary experience—and who don’t mind kneeling throughout an entire meal. Since my knees have never recovered from an injury sustained on a top secret Black Ops mission, my friends and I opted for the Western-style seating accommodations.

The Happy Hour details are meager: Between 5-7 you can get $1 off cocktails and beer. But that’s not the reason you’re here. It’s the food, stupid. Depending on what’s happening at the farmers market, the colorful chalkboard menu displays between 25 and 30 plates, ranging in price from $2-10. From a crackling assortment of pickled veggies ($2) to the silky sashimi of the day ($10) everything is fresh and fabulous. Highlights of our group repast were numerous: the slow-cooked pork and brussel sprouts ($6) were nothing less than sensational. In fact, if the dish has pork on it, go ahead and order it. Covered in a toothsome, tangy plum sauce variant, the pork is falling to bits while the lightly cooked sprouts pack a bit of crunch. The sesame pork meat balls ($4) are huge, hearty, and seasoned with a sweet, smoky sauce that will energize your taste buds like a a bolt of lightening. The ahi tuna poke ($8), rather than drowned in sesame oil as is usually the case, is more of a snappy brine-and-onion bite, and tastes great even a day later when chomped down greedily from the to-go box. Did your starving days as a college student leave you scarred for life when it comes to ramen? Get over it. Both the pork and veggie ramen are robust and nurturing, and are quite capable of steaming the wind and rain right out of you. One other thing: if you don’t order the chicken and shrimp gyoza dumpling (a swell bargain at $4) you’ll regret it.

Forget your collegiate memories of ramen. This is a considerable upgrade.

The drinks play a supporting role to the vast spread of goodies, but they should not be overlooked. Miho Izakaya has a full bar, but the specialties are drinks made with shochu, a Japanese neutral spirit distilled from buckwheat, rice, or sweet potatoes, as well as varieties of saké. I had a Twisted Kite ($6), a smooth-sailing blend of shochu, lime, peach bitters, and ginger ale. There are domestic beers, regional craft beers, and tall bottles of Asian brands like Asahi, Sapporo, and Chang’s. With this menu, I prefer the latter group.

The most delightful aspect of time spent at Miho Izakaya is the instant feeling of camaraderie. The coziness of the space and the exotic nature of the entrees awaken a traveler’s sense of adventure. True, it’s a local joint, but it’s easy to pretend that you and your friends stumbled upon the quaint little place during an unexpected cloudburst during a sight-seeing afternoon in Kyoto. And since you’re all in this together, the sharing of plates is a given. Even vegetarians will be psyched with the menu options. They are indeed plentiful.

So what did I learn? Easy: stop being such a homebody and don’t be afraid of leaving the comfort zone. Travel broadens the mind as well as the waist.

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Tags: Happy Hour, Cheap Eats, NoPo, Miho Izakaya

Happy Hour of the Week

The news is mostly good at the Original

Posted by: John Chandler on Oct 01, 2010 at 02:00PM 3 Comments

The meatloaf sliders hit the spot.

Since its opening a year ago May, the Original has been taunting me. I can see it from my office window. And if I can get my head to turn like Linda Blair’s, I can see the dessert display case. There’s comfort in knowing that a serviceable slice of pie is like 30 seconds away.

Make no mistake, comfort is king at the Original, multitasking as a clean, comfy coffee shop, diner, and bar to the adjacent Courtyard Marriott on SW Oak St. Its proximity to the hotel is both a blessing and a curse, but for the most part the Original morphs with remarkable grace.

The Good News: The daily Happy Hour (4:30-6, boo!) is plentiful and priced to move. There are 20 items between $2-5 and you can drink pints of PBR for a buck. Also, the waitstaff is punctual without being pushy and friendly without being obsequious. Their mixture of hustle and good humor is a genuine pleasure, especially considering Portland’s reputation for slacker servers.

The Happy Hour chow is a mixed bag, but you can’t go wrong with the finger food. The meatloaf sliders ($4 a pair) hit the spot with the hearty ground beef coated in gooey melted Swiss and topped with a couple crunchy gherkins. The BLT Deviled Eggs ($4 for 3) will inspire a double take thanks to the purple coloring. Your amiable server will cheerfully explain that the eggs were boiled in beet juice to give them a little flavor boost, though the whipped tomato filling and the shard of bacon are more than capable of tickling your tastebuds. The chili cheese fries ($4) are a near-miss; the fries are crispy and seasoned perfectly, but the cheese is bargain brand. And the chili? Needs more “ooomph.” A few shakes of Tabasco remedied the situation nicely.

The Punch was pleasing.

For washing down your victuals, you can go with a house red or a house white ($4), the aforementioned Pabst, or you can have a glass of Punch ($4). I opted for the latter and was glad I did. The Original Punch is a tangy, invigorating blend of berry-flavored rum, blueberry puree, and lemonade. It’s one of those cocktails you can toss back with impunity till a trip to the restroom reveals your unsteady pins. I had two before switching to Rogue Dead Guy and that seemed about right. My stint as a deck hand on a fishing boat left me with a rolling gait, anyway.

The Bad News: Spice, or a lack thereof. The pierogi ($5), the lamb meatballs ($5, served with tiny toast tiles), and the chili were all bland as paste. This is where the hotel factor comes into play. About five years ago I got stuck on a Greyhound next to one of the last of a dying breed—an actual traveling salesman. This fellow sold batteries door to door (sad!) and had spent most of his adult life on the road. “Don’t eat spicy food when you’re traveling,” he told me. “It can cause all kinds of problems.” And he left it at that.

The lamb meatballs needed more heat.

I always thought the guy was a fruitcake, but there must be some truth to his mantra, because every Happy Hour item at the Original that had a sauce component seemed better suited for a senior citizen’s palate. Hot sauce or Tabasco are an improvement, but the overall lack of fire in the broth was anything but comforting.

I’ll be back, though. It’s a superior sit-down dining option in a part of town where they’re mighty scarce. I’ll just make sure I have a bottle of Secret Aardvark Sauce hidden in my boot.

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Tags: Happy Hour, Cheap Eats, The Original