Adam B.
Yelp
I don't know what planet Portlanders are living on as many locals told us that this was the best dive bar in the city. Now, I consider myself to be somewhat of an expert on dive bars ... I've been to some of the best in the country. From Chez Jay (Santa Monica), Frolic Room (LA), Dirty Bird (Laguna), Dannys Navy Seal Bar (Coronado) to Old Colony Tap (Cape Cod), Distinguished Wacombah Lounge (NYC), Elbow Room (Ft. Lauderdale), Khyber Pass (Philly) and the list goes on.
A few key components which make a dive bar divey ... grizzled old regulars, well worn but comfortable stools, red leather or vinyl somewhere, a jukebox (preferably an old one with cds), dim lighting to make people look better ... Christmas lights year round give extra credit.
Most of the folks we encountered at this bar were in their 20's. Some with man buns, some with mustaches, the girls had high waisted mom jeans and Coachella girl accents. You won't find an 80 year old bar fly named Russ who wears a cowboy hat, sits in the same stool and the bartender occasionally shouts out, "Russ, tell this guy the story about when you used to drink with (XYZ 1960's-era celebrity), as you will at most genuine dive bars. ( ... maybe it was Russ's day off?) You get the vibe at this place the grizzled interesting old regular at the end of the bar would be a 42 year old guy who quit his job on Wall Street and came to Portland to kayak and search for the perfect Oyster frittata.
Having said that ... despite the Ikea-ish open shelves and ironic quotes written on boards in magic marker, perhaps we are witnessing the earliest stages in the development of a dive bar ... once dust settles on the shelving, 50 years worth of elbow sweat stains the edges of the bar and they replace the fluorescent lights with red hued dim lighting. Right now in their beautiful 20's this crowd doesn't need dim lighting and the constant flicker of a slot poker machine to hide the 20 years worth of abuse of beer, burgers and possible scars from bare knuckle fighting in Tiajuana, which catches up to you fast once you pass 35.
The fucking internet jukebox was disabled by the bar staff while we were there! There was no music playing ... just the din of conversation. A mortal sin to dive bars anywhere. No Hendrix or Joplin or Jagger or Cobain. Just the broken bits of conversation regarding the new IPhone or the asshole friend who 'forgot' to venmo after last night's dinner.
The beer selection here is alright ... they have 3 beers on draft and a dozen or more craft beers in cans. Call me a traditionalist but the only canned beers at a dive bar should be Tecate, Modello or Pabst Blue Ribbon. The craft beers should be on draft ... there's nothing gritty about drinking from an $8 tall silver can emblazoned with pastel colors and shapes. Selection is nice but it's just not a good look.
The food here looked semi-amazing. Mostly the artery clogging food a college student grabs on the way home from the bar ... mac and cheese, sausage sandwiches or fancy hot wings. I was shocked not to see poutine or tater tots on the menu. I'd have bet a tidy sum that if you were going to find loaded tots anywhere in Portland, this would be the place.
Perhaps I am being unfair to this fine establishment by judging it as a dive bar. Maybe the owners hate it being called a dive bar. It's a perfectly legit place to come and drink fine, fancy beers in a sterile Ikea-esque environment while eating great tasting food. I think this is the place folks in their 20s to early 30's want to be and connect with each other. It has the odd feeling of what it would be like to drink inside a food truck.
If you are looking for a dive bar, look elsewhere. Portland is a city where people stand in line for 30 minutes for french fries or donuts. Come on people ... get yourself into trouble ... let the locals scoff and stare at the gritty bars near the docks until you endear yourself to them, or square off with them ... drink too much cheap beer while listening to Motorhead and The Rolling Stones on the jukebox. In 40 years, I hope to come back to this particular bar and see that years of wear and tear and neglect make it into what The Old Town Tap or McSorely's are today.