BAR PILOT

Happy Hour Report

Underwhelmed at Breken Kitchen

Posted by: Jonathan S Banasky on Mar 08, 2011 at 03:00PM 0 Comments

The name has changed but they’re still cooking and pouring up a storm. Breken Kitchen, formerly Sydney’s, is a comfy coffee house situated at the foot of the Fremont Bridge on the northernmost fringe of the Pearl District. What you’ll find inside isn’t a whole lot different from the dozens of other java joints scattered throughout Portland—high ceilings, wood floors, brick walls spotted with unremarkable art, a few pods with newspaper-strewn sofas, and the thick-brimmed glasses of customers peering out from behind steaming mugs and clattering laptops.

Needless to say, this isn’t an atmosphere that screams Happy Hour excitement, but I was in the neighborhood and feeling a bit peckish—so what the heck?

Breakfast and lunch are peak hours here as paper shufflers from surrounding hives fuel up with bagels, fancy-pants sandwiches (like Roasted Portabella and Onion Panini with Juniper Grove Goat Cheese and Parsley Pesto, $8.95), soups, salads, and other reasonably light/healthy fare, while partaking of a sizable selection of stimulating hot bevvies (coffee, tea, chai).

In an effort to keep a few customers lingering during the slower afternoon hours, Breken Kitchen also does Happy Hour Wed-Fri from 3-5.

Hunger can be treated with lasagna ($7), bread and olive oil ($2), soup of the day ($3.50 for a cup of potato or pork pozole), and salad ($3). There are decent beers to be had (Lagunitas, Guinness, Black Butte Porter, and Chimay) but the only beer special was 50 cents off a PBR tall boy, which was not something I was in the mood for while flying solo at 4 in the afternoon. According to their website, there are four whites and three reds on the HH menu that range from $4-8 but it was all full price during my visit. Guess they thought I looked gullible. Speaking of the website, most of the prices listed on its Happy Hour menu are completely wrong. Sorry, we must deduct points for that.

I came with an appetite, so I ordered the lasagna along with a salad. The latter wasn’t particularly exciting—some mixed greens tossed with a vinaigrette, but at least there was plenty of it. The lasagna arrived as a hefty square about the size of CD cover, layered with hunks of ground beef and onion slices, topped with a generous coat of marinara. Solid and serviceable but Pazzo’s needn’t worry about the competition. Note to management: It’s really a bit of a stretch to refer to lasagna, green salad, and a PBR as Happy Hour. Maybe “Other Food Hour?”

To summarize: If you’re looking for a Happy Hour in the traditional sense (i.e. a lively lounge to meet for beers and wings after work or get your night started by downing as many drinks as possible before they raise the price), this is not the place to do it. Breken Kitchen is a laid-back neighborhood nosh pit for the cubicle crowd or parents picking their kids up from the neighboring Montessori school. There’s nothing here that warrants a special trip. If you do decide to venture forth, don’t forget to pack your laptop; your profile ain’t going to update itself.

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Tags: Happy Hour, Breken Kitchen, Pabst Blue Ribbon

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

People’s Party

Democrat Jesse Cornett becomes a publican

Posted by: John Chandler on Jan 14, 2011 at 11:00AM 4 Comments

Home of the Guild Public House.

“I was thinking our slogan should be, ‘For the rest of us,’” laughs erstwhile city council candidate Jesse Cornett. He’s referring to the spanking-new Guild Public House on Lower East Burnside, where most neighborhood businesses are, for lack of a better description, hipster-focused. “I’m not a hipster,” he confesses.

Kind of a shocking thing for a would-be politician to admit, especially in Portland, where cozying up to the youth vote is critical. But you won’t find this fledgling bar owner dashing about in Chuck Taylor’s or gibbering with excitement over the previous night’s Animal Collective concert. Instead, he’s following in the tradition of ex-mayor and publican Bud Clark (who’s famous “Expose Yourself to Art” poster graces the wall here), as a businessman who understands that political debates are best hashed out in public (as in “public house”).

Guild proprietor Jesse Cornett.

At the “soft” opening for the Guild, in addition to the usual assortment of lowlife freeloaders (me) and frantic first-nighters, there was the unmistakable presence of party politics. Former Democratic secretary of state Bill Bradbury was in the house, paying his respects to his pal Jesse Cornett, who worked diligently on Bradbury’s recent campaign for governor. Congressman Earl Blumenauer also did a walk through, but I was so busy searching the crowd for a bowtie, that I must have missed him. Drat the luck!

The Guild is the third incarnation of the space that occupies the first floor of the snazzy Rocket building, where Noble Rot reigns benevolently two levels up. The interior is still dominated by reds and blacks, but the bohemian accouterments from its early days as the Chesterfield, like wall-mounted skateboards, pastel-colored stools, and a circular 20-person orgy couch are long gone. Instead, the furniture is functional and sturdy, and the beer list is local (Double Moutain, Oakshire, Everybody’s Brewing; $3 pints during Happy Hour, 4-6 daily).

Former secretary of state Bill Bradbury (left).

Small-bite samples from the Guild’s kitchen, including pulled-pork Cuban sandwiches with Rogue bleu cheese crumbles (winner of the evening’s “yummy” award), cider-braised chorizo, and some really mustardy deviled eggs, were circulated and duly devoured. Cornett tells me, unsurprisingly, that the food menu will be small and seasonal, with an emphasis on locally sourced goodies. Think cheese plates, huge salads, and sandwiches rather than coronary inducing nachos and fries. Shut up! It’s good for you!

The pulled pork Cuban sandwiches vanished quickly.

I’m hopeful that politicos will continue to frequent the Guild for beer and banter. A bar is the perfect place to approach and chat up elected officials about any bees currently residing in your bonnet—a practice that might be increasingly difficult in light of recent tragic events in Arizona. And if a heated barroom argument about feckless Democrats and corporate-shilling Republicans should erupt, owner Cornett, no stranger to partisan politics, can probably restore order with a round on the house.

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Tags: Happy Hour, Bar Openings, Bill Bradbury, Earl Blumenauer, Double Mountain Brewing, Guild Public House

Magic Moments 2010

A few things that made me love my job this year

Posted by: John Chandler on Jan 04, 2011 at 10:00AM 5 Comments

The Bar Pilot Special from Big-Ass Sandwiches

Gads, is it 2011 already? My, how quickly the sands of time swirl away during the pursuit of Happy Hour excellence and bar bounty. Please understand that I’ve had to chew my way through some ghastly grub (the memory of Ash Street Saloon’s evil grilled-cheese sandwich still causes me to wake up screaming) and sample some really underwhelming cocktails in order to bring you, my drinking buddies, the latest intelligence from the front lines. But let’s accentuate the positive, shall we? Here then is a list of particularly noteworthy menu moments from this past year.

Big-Ass Sandwiches A Big-Ass Sandwich is like telling your stomach, “Here! Suck on this!” This is not a food cart that you can hit on a daily basis. The sandwiches are just too extreme. But if you’re having one of those days and you can feel a gnawing hunger in your gut that cries out in primordial fashion to be satisfied, you can do no better.

Cafe Nell The best service in town. Super-efficient waiters who appear as if summoned from a lamp.

Cascade Barrelhouse I adore Ron Gansberg’s sour beers and I greatly look forward to exploring their flavor mystique with an assortment of food pairings.

Hawthorne Hophouse A welcome addition to my neighborhood with exceptional pub grub (the Red Dragon Burger, with ham, spicy mustard, and cheddar atop Angus beef is a new addiction) and a rotating beer selection that pays loving tribute to the region. On Sundays, local brews are only $3!

The sampler tray at Hawthorne Hophouse.

Hop & Vine Really, this modest little shop offers the best of everything. A well-curated wine list, terrific rotating taps, intriguing cocktails, and a sturdy food menu, for starters, but the atmosphere is congenial and cozy. And if you want to stalk local beer celebrities chances are they’re hanging out there—right now!

Jade Lounge’s Banana Fritters On Tuesdays and Thursdays, Jade Lounge offers a cunning array of $3 plates all day. In this case I recommend dessert first. For a fleeting instant, the delicate cornmeal shell rolled in cinnamon, bursting with gooey banana splendor will bring to mind delightful domestic scenes from childhood. Perhaps not yours, but somebody’s.

Metrovino’s Seafood Chowder: True, I first encountered this sensational soup in 2009, but I return periodically to slurp of its goodness and fortify my ravaged soul. Fatty smoked bacon adrift in a sea of oysters, clams, tuna, and halibut for $5. Why aren’t you eating it now?

Metrovino’s Seafood Chowder.

Miho Izakaya For sheer menu audacity, I have to give it up for the little Japanese pub on N Interstate. The ingredients are always cracking fresh, and the 25 or so small-plate offerings ($2-10) are not only uniformly tasty, but extremely interesting to boot. The slow-cooked pork, spicy noodles, and beguiling fish entrees will reel you in and turn you into a homing pigeon for this coop.

Three Doors Down Bartender Matt Stiles is an unsung hero in my book. He’s never served me a drink that was anything less than spectacular. And the quality of the Happy Hour chow, from the habit-forming Tuscan white bean spread to the vodka sausage penne, is incomparable. Happy Hour is available all night on Sundays and Tue-Thur.

Upright Brewing Alex Ganum’s bold and yeasty farmhouse ales provided a welcome respite from the hops arms race.

I’m as human as the next gink and I can’t be everywhere at once. So by all means, if I’ve missed something that deserves a round of applause, please speak up!

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Tags: Happy Hour, Hop and Vine, Three Doors Down, Metrovino, Best of 2010, Hawthorne Hophouse, Miho Izakaya, Upright Brewing, Cascade Brewing, Big Ass Sandwiches, Cafe Nell, Jade Lounge

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

Review: New Brew Venue

Hawthorne has a Hophouse

Posted by: John Chandler on Nov 16, 2010 at 11:00AM 13 Comments

Be advised that Hawthorne Hophouse, the new Northwest-centric beer bar on SE Hawthorne, is a kid-friendly venue. The presence of children in pubs is a thorny issue among the Portland suds set, i.e., whether or not beer-loving parents have the right to subject their fellow pub patrons to a rampage of raging rugrats. There were at least seven youngsters on the premises last night and I didn’t hear a peep out of them, so for the time being it’s not an issue (although I’m a dog owner so I’m used to ignoring unprovoked yowling). However, I did feel some subtle pressure to keep a tight rein on my use of profanity, which tends to increase in direct proportion to number of beers consumed—so there’s that.

The Hophouse is located in that tiny strip of businesses at 41st and Hawthorne, where approximately 84 Thai restaurants have opened and closed over the last five years. With the arrival of a bustling New Seasons market right across the street, the lure of freshly poured beer should exert a powerful pull on harried yuppie shoppers—especially those that have been driven to the brink of madness by the demands of unruly offspring. The space is small, antiseptically clean, and welcoming; a veritable oasis of regional repast.

The food menu is fairly “McMenamin” (burgers, fries, salads, sandwiches) in appearance but they do have a Happy Hour between 9 and midnight, with an assortment of $4 goodies like poutine, chicken satay, wasabi deviled eggs, and a chicken and cheddar sandwich. The real hook at the Hophouse is a rotating cast of two-dozen Northwest beers on tap. This includes pours from nano-breweries like Natian (their Lumberjane Stout provided a jolt of bitter coffee-roasted charm), Vertigo, and Mt Tabor Brewing in addition to more familiar names like Deschutes, Hopworks, and Ninkasi.

There’s simply no room for brand loyalty here, because kegs come and go like summer lovers. There are two excellent solutions for those looking to experience the yin and yang of available flavors. On Sundays, in addition to an all-day Happy Hour, beer-curious patrons can take advantage of $3 glasses of local-beer selections. Before anyone can work up a serious gripe about 12-ounce glasses for $3, it should be known that our teeniest, tiniest breweries typically sell their product for a little more scratch, since distribution is usually limited to kegs delivered by “some guy with a truck.”

On Monday evenings, at least for the rest of the month, six, twelve, and twenty-four glass sampler trays are half-price, which allows for some serious exploration. My friends and I ordered up a twelve (2 oz) glass flight for a measly $6.50, with each of us selecting three beers from the menu. We then passed them around, exchanging such brilliant tasting observations as, “Roasty and toasty!” and “surprisingly citrus for an IPA.” And presto! You’ll be a beer geek before you know it.

In terms of finding a comfortable niche, Hawthorne Hophouse is the right business at the right time. Upper Hawthorne (above 39th/Cesar Chavez) was a land sadly bereft of beer diversity, unlike lower Hawthorne which is awash in a variety of worthy brews. The arrival of the Hophouse has improved this situation dramtically.

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Tags: Happy Hour, Family Fun, Bar Openings, Craft Beers, Southeast, Ninkasi Brewing, Hawthorne Hophouse

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

Happy Hour of the Week

The Fritos fly at Fixin’ To

Posted by: John Chandler on Sep 13, 2010 at 10:00AM 5 Comments

And now a few words about Fritos and cheap whiskey. Since a respectful amount of time has passed since senior editor Bart Blasengame’s departure from the Portland Monthly masthed, I think it’s perfectly legitimate to pay a Happy Hour visit to his trailer-park-themed watering hole, The Fixin’ To. Located in the rustic heart of St Johns, the Fixin’ To gives Bart B. the chance to introduce the locals to the starchy, unpretentious charms of his Arkansas upbringing.

Establishing a “vibe” can be a daunting task for your average barkeep. We’ve all seen the failures: the random distribution of a few kitschy ceramic trinkets does not create atmosphere—it just makes the place look like a yokel’s garage sale. It’s obvious that Bart spent many of his formative years drinking rotgut in dive bars on the downside of the Mason-Dixon. There’s no other explanation for the presence of so much rotel—cheese dip with chilis and tomatoes—and Fritos that simply must be eaten in the spacious whiskey-tango patio that was cunningly cobbled together from corrugated tin, cyclone fencing, and old doors. Props: he’s also got shuffleboard, the best bar entertainment available that doesn’t involve the removal of clothing.

Rotel makes everything better.

Happy Hour is a low-key interlude weekdays from 2-6 ($1 tall boys of Hamms, Rainier, Old German, and PBR, $1 off wells and specialty cocktails), with enough cheap chow options to pacify even the most cash-strapped citizen. Five bucks will get you three different chip-and-dip options: tortilla chips and rotel or Ritz crackers with either sour cream scallion or bean dip. Portions are thoughtfully divided by size and dietary preferences (vegan, veggie, meat-eater). The chicken and dumplings ($7) are peppery and pillowy and can be served vegan with seitan (wheat gluten) in place of poultry. Both the St Johns Chili Bucket ($7-10, served over jalapeño pudding) and the Frito Pie ($6-9) come with veg options and are probably more food than you can shovel down your pie hole in one sitting, unless you’re one of those competitive eating freaks. After all the snacking there was no room at the inn for Not Your Mom’s Meatloaf ($11), but it looked like a rockin’ prospect as it passed by on the way to another table.

Um, which one lead’s to the Men’s Room?

Bart and his crew do not make fancy, shmancy, cocktails, though they might give it a whirl if you mind your manners. The coin of the realm at The Fixin’ To is brawny drinks with a few unexpected fripperies, like the St Johns Sweet Tea ($6). Here a “good-for-what-ails-you” slug of Old Crow bourbon is blended with sweet tea, triple sec, and muddled citrus, to create a simpler and less syrupy version of the more famous Long Island libation. Old Crow also makes an appearance in the Vacation Bible School ($6) alongside a whole lot of ginger, for a surprisingly refined refresher—surprising because Old Crow is a burning sensation and not a spirit normally associated with polite society.

The Fixin’ To corrals some of the rowdier aspects of southern hospitality, gives them a spit shine and makes them a bit more presentable. And with all the supposed rancor between red states and blue states that seems to be a popular media meme these days, it gladdens my heart that there is common ground for yankee and rebel to roister in our own backyard.

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Tags: Happy Hour, Cheap Eats, NoPo, North Portland Dining, The Fixin' To, St. Johns

Happy Hour of the Week

Embrace the pleasant at Bread & Ink

Posted by: John Chandler on Sep 02, 2010 at 02:30PM 7 Comments

The scene: the Bar Pilot is eye-balling the Happy Hour menu at the Bread & Ink Cafe on SE Hawthorne. A look of confusion on his mug gives way to one of unbridled horror, as if he’s discovered rat droppings in his granola.

“You’re serving GULF SHRIMP?” I gasped at the waitress.

She didn’t bat an eye. Obviously she and the manager had dutifully rehearsed a response to this particular sticky wicket. “Yes, and it’s delicious,” she replied.

“It’s not … floating in British petroleum?”

“Nope. they’re fresh, clean, and really good.”

“I thought for sure she was going to claim it was a squid-ink reduction sauce or something,” chimed in my drinking buddy Lucy, who takes great delight in any discomfort on my part.

After ingesting a mild sedative, I ordered a plate. Five index-finger-sized grilled prawns with a chipotle and lime aioli for $4.50. Guess what? They were delicious. With the ice thus broken, I began to relax and have a good time. Bread & Ink is a casual, homey neighborhood cafe that morphs gracefully from breakfast joint, to Happy Hour hang, to serviceable sit-down restaurant. It’s also a place that I’ve walked by approximately 98,250 times without stopping in, so I decided to rectify that situation. Good on me.

Gulf shrimp—sans petroleum.

Despite the dreaded 3 pm – 6 pm run time, Bread & Ink delivers just about everything one could ask for in a Happy Hour. Frothy pints of local brews (Hopworks, Double Mountain, Laurelwood) are a sweet deal at $2.50. There are more than a dozen chow options, including a generous plate of curried chicken and cardamom rice ($4.75) and a batch of spinach and ricotta dumplings baked with butter and parmesan ($4.50) that tastes remarkably healthy despite the abundance of cheese. If I hadn’t filled up on the shrimp and chicken, the bacon provolone basil sandwich ($4.75) or the cheesy home fries with grilled onions ($3.25) would have gotten a day in court as well.

On the cocktail front, there are 10 specials ($5-6.50) mostly of the sort favored by soccer moms and receptionists on the down-low (e.g., lemon drops, martinis, and mojitos). The Green Tea Lemon Drop ($5) was a bracing and tasty surprise, as the herbaceous tea gave a jazzy lift to the tart lemon. Sadly, the mango-rita ($5) was too sweet in a vague, undefined sort of way, and not especially mango-ish.

Perhaps the most pleasant surprise of all was that Bread & Ink has not really established itself on the Happy Hour radar yet, which means cracking good service and a refreshing absence of neighboring yakkity-yak that makes civilized conversation a fleeting impossibility. For sure it’s a good news/bad news situation: good news for us and bad news for Bread & Ink. In any case, I’ve done my part. Yes, the Happy Hour here is more than worth your time. And the gulf shrimp is excellent. Come on in, the water’s fine!

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Tags: Southeast Portland, Happy Hour, Cocktails, Cheap Eats, Bread & Ink Cafe