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In a post-The Roxy Portland, where nearly every restaurant hangs a Pride flag in the window (some year-round, some with visible folds from being packed away till June), it’s sometimes hard to identify what exactly makes a gay meal. Where can LGBTQIA+ Portlanders go to sit down, talk and eat? In some ways, thankfully, everywhere. Drag brunches continue to pop up all over, and incredible queer-owned spots like Sammich, Red Sauce Pizza, Makulit, Cheese & Crack Snack Shop and countless others hold it down. But even so, dining outside our homes usually takes place in the cafes and brewpubs of the everyday world before we head to the gay bar. We gather in places that are for everybody before we gather in places where we sometimes need a little “just us.”
The gay restaurant is a much more amorphous and much less identifiable object than the gay bar. It’s a feeling, safety, an ability to breathe, even a bit of a secret. It’s something that maybe, after The Roxy, it feels like we’re missing entirely. So what if we turned to the gay bar itself? Most in Portland have kitchens. Talented people work in them. Good food is made in those spots. Yet, when polling friends and colleagues about this piece, I was often met with laughter. The thought of eating at gay bars sounded deeply unserious: a joke, a last resort—possibly something you do while unhinged, or at least something reserved exclusively for the most reckless.
This is not to knock classic bar snacks—the chicken strips and onion rings at Darcelle XV Showplace are reliably crispy and pair perfectly with a megasweet cocktail served in an enormous plastic leg (as long as you’re mindful not to get your cash tips too greasy). But I was on the hunt for something more: gay bar meals for the older set, the sober set, a group of friends on a Tuesday night who just wanna chill, or your seventh date where you finally unpack that “family trowma” as Jamie Lee Curtis would say. I found what I was looking for. I was surprised, I was moved and, perhaps most importantly, I was sober. This Pride, the shame of eating at the gay bar is gone. Chow down, baby.
Overall Best Bite: Ribs ($8, $26) at The Sports Bra (2512 NE Broadway, 503-327-8401, thesportsbrapdx.com). Congratulations, you are the winner of this week’s challenge. These baby back babies—cooked in a clay pot and caramelized with coconut milk—are so tender, one can hardly pick them up without the meat sliding off the bone. Sticky and sweet, the little burnt bits sing when working in tandem with the summery cilantro-cabbage slaw. This is peak bar snack, enjoyed in the nation’s first women’s sports bar, perfect to eat while watching gymnasts twirl and snowboarders…snowboard.
Best Snack For A Group: The nachos at Sissy Bar (1416 SE Morrison St., 503-206-4325, sissybarportland.com). No notes. Simple, classic, you know ‘em, you love ‘em. Juanita’s chips topped with cheese, tomato, jalapeño and sour cream are melty and fresh and even better with the addition of avocado salad ($8), a kind of sweet and hunky guacamole with cucumber, lime and scallion. This music video bar filled with colorful light panels makes for a great hangout spot, with a menu of Colombian food that also includes some pretty solid chicken and hogao arepas ($12-$15). Our server gave us a bottle of hot sauce and warned, “This sauce doesn’t seem hot, but it comes back for you!” I abstained. I didn’t think I wanted it to come back.
Best Dessert: This category is a little unfair, seeing as it’s basically the only dessert at a gay bar in Portland, but luckily, it rules. Warm white chocolate and macadamia nut cookies ($7) at Shine Distillery and Grill (4232 N Williams Ave., 503-825-1010, shinedistillerygrill.com) are fragrant, crispy on the outside, soft on the inside, and served with a giant scoop of vanilla ice cream. With seating on a second-floor patio overlooking Williams, or in the enormous dining room that hosts drag bingo on Wednesdays, Shine also offers savory snacks, like a creamy-briny artichoke dip with pita ($12) that’s served so hot I’d call it slutty. The popcorn chicken ($13) is also intriguing, brined in black tea and served coated in a sweet-hot barbecue sauce.
Best Loner Meal: The crispy chicken Caesar wrap ($13) at Crush Bar (1400 SE Morrison St., 503-235-8150, crushbar.com) is god-tier, actually. I’m not usually a wrap fan—something about when the tortilla folds into the other part of the tortilla and they layer…could this be a phobia? But on a recent Sunday night, I was really effing tired, and this revived me. Chicken strips, romaine, red onions, Parmesan cheese and Caesar dressing gone handheld. A side of ultra-crispy tater tots with ranch. A Diet Coke. I sat in the window, looking out on one of Portland’s best patios and people-watching spots. The sun was setting behind the trees. “This Must Be The Place” by the Talking Heads played as I finished my meal, and I thought, “So true, baby David.”
Best Vibe: Escape Bar & Grill (9004 NE Sandy Blvd., 503-255-4300, escapebarandgrillpdx.com). No, this place has nothing to do with the all-ages alcohol-free dance club of yesteryear. Yes, it’s a spacious, gorgeous, lesbian-owned wonderland that satisfies something deep in my soul. Escape feels like an old-fashioned haunt, complete with dark lighting, wood paneling and a disco ball. I took the bus there at dusk and felt like I was in a slower, calmer world. Just me, my trusty Diet Coke, local news on the TV, three other people, and a bunch of Pride flags on a summer night at 8:30 pm.
“I want some elote,” I said.
“YES YOU DO, THEY’RE FUCKIN’ DELICIOUS” was the reply from behind the register. And indeed they were! Three big pieces of tender corn on the cob ($8) dressed with lime, Tajín, cotija, crema, and lots of cilantro. I went full Corn Kid mode. It had the juice! Other hits included crispy ground beef tacos ($6), which gave Taco Bell vibes in the best way: exactly what you need and want, with cheese placed in the bottom of the shell to make sure it gets melted by the beef. Clearly built by a pro.
The thing I can’t stop thinking about, however, are the fried pickles ($9), a bar snack I already love but can sometimes be ruined by the shape choice: thin and flaccid coins? Girthy spears? The pickles at Escape are cut shoestring fry-style, which I now demand to be industry standard. Lightly battered, uber-salty, served with herby, fresh ranch. My mouth waters as I recount them.
I missed the bus back home and there wasn’t another for 40 minutes. I decided to walk down Sandy for a bit as the sky got darker and the air cooler. I’d had my little dinner that was just for me, in a place where I could breathe. I felt full. I felt lucky. I felt proud.