History by the Glass

For many of you, it was just the Sunday after Thanksgiving. But for your intrepid History by the Glass duo, Nov. 25, 2018 is the night that changed everything. It was the dawn of the pod -- the first audio recording to capture the inane blather (and slivers of brilliance) that defines the two men behind this nebulous boozy creative project. Yes, it’s an hour of your life that you’ll never get back. And YES it often goes careening wildly around corners of conversation (alcohol is a helluva drug). But if you make it to the end (and you gotta want it), our hope is that you’ll actually find yourself being okay with that lost time. And just maybe you’ll find yourself looking forward to the next one. Either way, we'll keep stumbling onward in this noble journey into Portland's elbow-bending past. Our ninth episode took us to Southwest Portland for our 17th and 18th historic bar visits, Caro Amico and Buffalo Gap , which were both featured in the first edition of History by th

When our  history bar playoff bracket was set for episode 8, the Lariat Lounge caught our eye right away. If victorious it would be, by far, the furthest into DEEEP SE PDX we were going to go in pursuit of our "required drinking" ( History by the Glass if you haven't quite picked up on that yet) bars. And, of course, a few idiotic minutes later, the Lariat had indeed triumphed and our die was cast. We were headed to SE 174th and Division -- a drinking location so far from our usual westside haunts that only Buzz Aldrin and Neil Armstrong could relate to the epic adventure that lay before us. Lariat Lounge | DEEP SE Portland | Centennial  Established: Unsubstantiated. (Half-ass internet research indicated anytime between 1946 and '83.) First Drinks: Coors Banquet (Fredo)...Busch Tall-Boy (Nate) Interesting Food: Fried Chicken and Chips on a Clip Heartily recommended by the bartender and cooked by a guy who looked like he stepped right out of the dressi

Episode 7 took us to two places that were venerable, but mostly middling taverns when Paul Pintarich wrote about them in the mid '90s and early aughts. They each had unique locations and were owned by elderly folks with various German ties, but otherwise had no real expectation for any significant future success at the time our man Pintarich visited for his History by the Glass books.  Flash ahead 20ish years and The Lighthouse is the runner-up for Willamette Week's 2018 Bar of the Year while Skyline Tavern took home Bar of the Year honors in 2016 .  Nate and I slipped out of the office early and headed north on a warm, sunny Friday afternoon in early September for what was our final HBTG episode as co-workers. Now that I've begun my new gig (as of Sept. 17), we'll have to find a way to drink and ponder the mysteries of historic bars as actual buddies. I like our chances.  The Lighthouse | (DEEP) NW Portland | Linnton Established: 1950 (as a bar/r

Nick's Famous Coney Island | SE Portland | Hawthorne Established: 1935 First Drinks: Pabst Blue Ribbon (Nate), Miller High Life (Fredo) Interesting Food: Well, there was a delish looking quinoa salad... Whaddyou think?! We were there to eat Coney dogs!  We woulda been remiss without eating a Coney, but aside from the ambiance, can't say it was memorable in any way.  Men's Room: 4/5 urinal pucks I really wanted to give this one a perfect 5-puck score. It was cramped, there was lots of vintage and authentic memorabilia (not generic bric-a-brac)...character out the wazoo...BUT...I couldn't overlook the locking door and somewhat modern, uninteresting fixtures...demerits for each...I'm a hard man to please.  Musings: Nick's was THE neighborhood bar and hangout back when all the local residents on Hawthorne were blue collar hard drinking and plain eating types. It was run by a legendary owner/barman (Frank Nudo) who was the reason y

Anthony Bourdain...a fellow enthusiast gone too soon, but never forgotten.  On Friday, June 8, 2018 we lost our muse. And it really hurt. Our previously scheduled History by the Glass visit to Steinhaus in NE Portland went on as planned that night, but took on a special significance as we mourned the loss of our philosophical patron. Anthony Bourdain never met us and, of course, never knew about this journey through Portland's most venerable drinking establishments. But I'd like to think, if he'd somehow learned of it, that he might've given us a quick nod of approval and lifted his glass in appreciation of our Quixotic mission. Over the past week, I've learned how far from alone I am in my appreciation of Tony Bourdain and how many others there are like me who experienced his profound impact on our world view. To see the outpouring of mourning and personal testimonials from friends and celebrities, both expected and unexpected, has been quite uplifting.