Hash S.
Yelp
Judging by the reviews, and the sparse crowd when we arrived, Flora is firmly in IYKYK territory. Good.
It's fun to have something a little out of the way and exclusive every so often. If not for the password at Milk and Honey, they world would've never tasted a gold rush. If not for the hidden door in Crif Dogs, lounges wouldn't know how to model their vibe after PDT. There's a way to, say, have a little getaway behind the shelves at Circa 33 without having the Dad's fitness club vibe of MWL or Scotch Room, and Flora's found it.
Before the pandemic, Portland as a whole eschewed the entire notion of reservations. They're for the Pearl. They go against what an organic culinary scene should foster? They violate the "Portland fair" policy of first-come, first served.
Naturally, this is all nonsense. A reservation is a failsafe: It's a way of making sure a table will be there when customers need it and that customers will be there when an establishment needs them. If everybody plays along, it's a wonderful arrangement that better cities have enjoyed for generations.
That a reservation is Flora's idea of a secret password is note perfect and absolutely hilarious. Of course much of Beaverton doesn't know about this place. This is a town that can't grasp ordering at a bar: You think they're going to wrap their minds around making a reservation, never mind drinking at a place that's reservation only? Not going to happen.
The only qualm I can see here is price, which is lofty for the 'burbs, but Flora has every justification in the world for it. First off, their cocktail list is the stuff that Rum Club, Teardrop, early Kask, and Clyde Common/Pepe Le Moko were built on. Secondly, it isn't as if Beaverton has Portland's saturation of cocktail bars where you can just go to a Boothby and Archambeault spot and be OK in a pinch. Your next best spot is Bootleggers, which knows what it's doing to a great degree, then the insufferable strip-mall whiskey bar Westgate. Then what? Maybe a McMenamins? One of the sports dives if someone's cousin from the Castro is in for the weekend? You're in a cocktail desert where you have three options until a car is involved. Flora can thrive in that environment.
The Southern Drawl and the Watson Avenue were personal favorites, but cocktails tend to be a subjective matter. I'm grateful for the selection here, and will consider it a viable alternative to sitting downstairs amongst the wailing ingrates unhappy with bar service and $5 full-pint pours.