by Sam Soule for pdxguide.com
January 20, 2005

Fortunately, things quickly turned around for me. I continued my dejected trek north on foot, soon stumbling upon the reputable Thai restaurant Sweet Basil.

With my evening shattered and no solid plan of action before me, I entered this festively lit, two-story building, finding a newly established lounge located on the ground level. Godsend. All I wanted was some Pad Thai and five beers. Something casual with a little Central Asian flair. My expectations were met with great success.

Small, dimly lit, sleek and modern, The Basil Bar is a tiny space with a second room still under construction — fresh and ready for plundering. Renovations notwithstanding, I found the atmosphere to be complete, or at the lest, just what I was looking for. Come-as-you are. Everyone looks better inside. Nobody looks all that great. Immediately my evening felt like it was taking a turn for the better.

Making my way in, I noted pale yellow walls and gray two-tops forming a perimeter around two squarish, low-seating couches; the bar a dark island in the far corner able to sit maybe four, perhaps five cocktail refugees. However, the lay of this land was not ruled by an arch sense of trendy refinement. How could it, when television, the great barroom pacifier, formed this lounge's cool glowy heart?

Please emphasize, cool glowy heart.

When I visited, the Blazers were being beamed onto the cool projection screen that hangs on the far wall above the couches, a unique arrangement. Now I could care less for basketball, but I was impressed and comforted by the power of this television set-up. It flavored the room a sort of a quasi-hip, Pan-Asian rec room feel vibe — if I must get down to specifics — giving the Basil Bar the power to be the setting for all sorts of scenes and parties. Patrons are even given free reign over the remote.

Desperate to get on with the night, I settled on ranking the place "mall-bar sublime", but knew it was better than that. I didn't resent the too-loud radio (playing KNRK) and the too-loud bartender (playing overly conscientious). I found myself a two-top in the corner and hunkered down for the night. I built a home.

After surveying the twenty or so six-dollar cocktails (Sex with the Bartender noted as a house specialty) I ordered a bottle of Bud and plate of Pad Thai. The Pad Thai was excellent: noodles not overdone, flavors sharp and crisp amply tossed with tofu, chicken and shrimp throughout, spicy. The beer was cold.

All six of them.

Night saved.

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