So I finally went to Renner's

So after all this time Mrs. V and I stopped into Renner's for a drink or two after dinner tonight. She had been there before - I hadn't. We headed straight back to "the Suburban Room", which is the cellar-like bar in the back. Unless my sense of space is deceiving me, it appears to be undercutting the street by a foot or two. It's low ceilinged and small, divey, smoky but not horrible - in other words the perfect place to knock back a few when you really don't feel like dealing with being "out" somehwere. The walls of the suburban room are lined - plastered really - with framed photos of patron over the years. More than a few featured Darcelle. We sat in the booth row against the back wall which looks up to a complete series of small watercolors by Kaye Synoground of all the village landmarks, including the now gone little red shack that housed Village Florist not too long ago.

The bar offerings tend towards the classics, PBR is in full effect and of course there are the infamous Jello Shots. Since I'm a scotch drinker with somewhat of a specific taste, I was left adrift in a land full of frigtheningly cloying blended scotches, or J&B. I grabbed a J&B and settled in for a catching up session with Mrs.V's friends.

I like these sorts of tight, underground spaces when it comes to bars. Oddly - in this divey cave-like "workingman's bar" (as my grandmother might have described it - had she ever been in a bar) the music selections were pure 80's. We went form Peter Gabriel to Paul Hardcastle to Depeche Mode. This was fine with us though, since we are all "of a certiain age" and I for one appreciated the non-standard picks.

The bar emnu was calling out to me though - it's old-school and tasty. If we had not just come from dinner. I tell you what - I may like a $10 a glass brand of scotch, but I can eat the heck out of some mozzarella cheese sticks!

We'll go back for breakfast one of these days.

PART TWO: Synchronicity via Google News
Every couple of weeks or so, one of the local newspapers "discovers" Renner's. This week it was the Portland Tribune. Here's their writer's take:

The next afternoon I set out for the elusive Renners Grill (7819 S.W. Capitol Highway). I can’t find it. I drive up and down Oregon Highway 10 for a while, then stop at a convenience store and ask the cashier if he knows where Renners is. He doesn’t. I ask him if he knows where Multnomah Village is. He doesn’t. I ask him where we are now. He doesn’t know that, either. “I’m new here,” he says. Finally I do what I should have done in the first place, and call for directions.
Renners is built into the side of a hill. It feels like the dining car on a Depression-era train, and it’s about that big. A lunch counter and a few raised booths fill the front.
The Suburban Room, as the bar in back is called, seats a few more. Art deco lamps hang from the uneven ceiling, and everything is old, from the rounded wooden beer cooler to the vintage ketchup bottles.
Even the graffiti stays in character — in the bathroom, someone has inked the ancient quatrain that begins “Here I sit.”
Bartender David Reeves tells me that some of the older regulars have been coming in since they were kids, when the place was a burger joint. The back wall is lined with photos, like the signed celebrity photos in many historic dining rooms. But here they are all pictures of loyal customers.

The full article is here on their site.