Welcome to Your Happy Place
Getting all warm inside over the Basement Pub

By Sam Dodge Soule, pdxguide.com

Embryonic comfort is not what I look for when I set out for a drink. For this reason, I've long avoided the Basement Pub.

Blame it on good word-of-mouth that was simply too good. Whenever people would mention the "BP" to me, they would speak in only the most glowing of terms. Faces would take on an effusive radiance. Language strove for a more resonant tone. A relaxed and inward calm took over folks I knew to be typically irksome in their nature, as if simply speaking of this tavern could trigger a mental revisitation to a personal "happy place." I could only shake my head at these interesting and bitter minds as if they were succumbing to the banal throes of anger management meditation. It was disgusting, and I was sure that I would never visit the Basement Pub.

But I have. In a recent effort to crawl out of dives and around trendy hotspots, I someone found this Basement Pub fixed, rather solidly, in my nocturnal navigations. Located in the ground floor former apartment space of a stately Victorian, the Basement Pub has been steadily building its reputation as a "nice place to go" for the last two years. And, for good reason.

The Basement Pup is a casually inviting, near-perfect, neighborhood tavern. Tables nudge each other along the sidewalk for patrons to converse in the greenery-filled setting of quaint and well-maintained homes. Inside, plants frame the two street-looking windows. An aquarium gurgles away at the head of the candlelit horseshoe bar. The bartenders are faultlessly friendly.

Less this all seems a trifle too "neat," the dark confines of the BP maintain a pleasant sense of the crusty and the absurd with fixtures inanimate and otherwise. Mismatched lighting and furniture prevail while paintings amaturishly depicting such odd scenes as midgets on a couch staring at an unseen television and a baggy-faced woman clutching a sandwich provide a slightly bizarre tone. Bar patronage, which runs a wide gamut, is spotted noticeably by regulars who look like incidental passersby from the pages of the old "Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers" underground comic books. The setting is pleasant in all its clutter.

As crowded as the BP can get at nights, a sense of good neighborly order pervades. Though mild freakiness is appreciated, full-blown street freaks are not. Attractors of such -- pool table, video poker, and by virtue of this being a tavern, hard liquour -- are all notably absent. The lone standing pinball, jukebox, and the stack of board games shelved away in the back constitutes the available periphereal entertainment. The resulting ambiance could be described as "maturing Southeast Portland, quasi-hippy slackerdom," a safe house for war opposors and beer drinkers.

The BP also offers up uniquely tapas-style tavern fare. Small portions from a brief menu that includes such items such as chick peas and rice, mixed olives, nachos, black beans and rice, and chips with hummus can be had for a buck with drink purchase. Larger orders, including a three-item medley, are also available. Meal-size appetites can be can be made drink-ready from a selection of wraps-burrito, caesar chicken, and gyro -- for five dollars each.

Happy Hour is 3-8 p.m. daily when pints grow to fill 20.5 oz glasses at regular pint prices, a special extended all night on "Cheap Ass Mondays." This doesn't add up to the best deal on PBR in town, but it's close. A plentiful, but not overwhelming, selection of cans, bottles and taps, set at working class prices, satisfies a full range of tastes.

The one thing that holds the Basement Pub back from being a quintessential Portland Tavern is its inexplicable shortage of bike racks. The two that are currently planted to either side of the sidewalk tables can each acommodate one bike easily, two with some difficulty.

That said, I can forgive fans of the Basement Pub for being so enthusiastic over their favorite watering hole. But getting all cult-like over it is just plain silly.

But the BP does earn high marks as a comfortable place loaded with "Portland character." And as such, I find myself pleasantly on edge whenever I stop in for a pint.

The opinions expressed within are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of pdxguide.com or The Columbian Publishing Co.