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 BEST
SUGAR SHACK
Remember the last time you tackled making a gingerbread
house, only to end up with one big, complicated, sticky,
sugary mess? Imagine concocting a life-size confectionery
cottage, as Tanea Whittaker has done with Keana's Candyland
(5314 SE Milwaukie Ave., 235-5177). Sticking with a gingerbread
project for just an afternoon is more than most can bear;
Teana has dedicated years to making a real house look like
it's made of candy. That meant piping every brick with swirly
shells of white grout, embedding every surface with candy
canes, lollipops and cookies, and nailing candy corn and
starlight mints to any remaining blank space. Inside, too,
trompe l'oeil sweets clutter the rooms from floor to
ceiling. Chandeliers take the form of cupcakes and ice cream
sundaes, plants spawn lollipops and an overwhelmingly sweet
scent emanates from Whittaker's candy and catering business.
Candyland looks remarkably realistic, but licking the walls
will make you sick: Everything but a few suckers is highly
inedible.
BEST
PLACE TO FISH INDOORS
Sometimes it's difficult to get out to fresh,
open waters and cast off for the big one. But let's say
you get a hankering for really fresh fish--the kind with
flavor that says "just caught." Luckily, Uwajimaya Inc.,
an Asian supermarket in Beaverton (10500 SW Beaverton-Hillsdale
Highway, 643-4512), has tanks and tanks of happy fish just
waiting to be "caught." In addition to the tasty tilapia,
urban anglers can reel in a gigantic, potentially disturbing
geoduck (3 feet of pure snail) or try their luck with a
vat of Hitchcockian Alaskan prawns. And if you happen to
be late to a party, Uwajimaya's gift section contains an
assortment of pre-wrapped presents--try the Hello Kitty
stationery.
BEST
PLACE TO BUY MISSILE CASINGS,
ERITREAN FLAGS AND EBONY
If you love shopping for home furnishings but
hate Home Depot, Wal-Mart and other generic retailers, Viva
USA Hardwoods (2100 SE Belmont St., 233-8550) is the
place for you. A combination woodworker's paradise (hence
the ebony), military-surplus purveyor (concrete-filled artillery
shells go for a buck) and flag supplier (Eritrea was formerly
part of Ethiopia and now produces cab drivers for the American
market), Viva has virtually everything you don't. Viva even
hopped on the FIFA Women's World Cup gravy train, selling
1,500 American flags to an entrepreneurial vendor just four
days before the Cup final. General Manager Bob Altstadt
made the sale with the help of online auctioneer eBay but
says technology won't change Viva's mission. "Anything people
buy," he says, "we sell."
BEST
PLACE TO EAVESDROP ON
LOCKER-ROOM TALK
It was getting on in the chilly evening last
Thanksgiving, but at the Bar of the Gods (4018 SE
Hawthorne Blvd., 232-2037) the propane heater was kicking
on the patio, and the beer and blankets provided more love
than any turkey saw that day. Suddenly, guffaws, other people's
gossip and moans of faux masturbation became audible. Where
was this muffled cacophony emanating from? The men's room
at this hipster hangout, natch. Granted, most of the time
we'd rather not hear what goes on behind bathroom doors,
but it's well-known that privies are often the place for
dishing dirt. A vent in the wall of the patio's southwest
corner facilitates primo eavesdropping for those times that
your male pal and current crush are chit-chatting in the
boy's room.
BEST
TRUTH IN ADVERTISING
The church is located at 1104 SE Spokane St.
BEST
SUBTLE NON-SMOKING STATEMENT
In this day and age of hyper-ironic billboards
that mock smoking and its health consequences, it's nice
to have a subtle reminder that maybe smoking ain't so great--like
the window display at Leo's Coffee Shop in the Medical
Dental Building (837 SW 11th Ave.). The old diner-style
lettering on the outside touts the establishment as "Leo's
Non-Smoking Coffee Shop." Leo's been gone at least 15 years,
but the present owner claims the non-smoking policy was
passed down from high above--literally. Upstairs from the
restaurant is a medical building, and smoking is not allowed
on the premises.
BEST
SIGN THAT THE KIDS ARE ALRIGHT
Somebody tell the inventors of the CIM/CAM tests
that they can stop panicking about kids being prepared to
enter the real world. Lincoln High School students recently
proved that they have what it takes to succeed in the workplace:
Their senior class T-shirt design was, coincidentally, almost
identical to WW's Summer Guide cover. Not only was
the students' Interstate 99 design of professional
quality, so was the method of its creation. "We were getting
desperate for an idea," says class president Michael Nguyen,
describing a scenario not unlike a WW design meeting.
Lincoln class representative Tiffany Ellis and WW's
collective creative genius get credit for the last-minute
bursts of inspiration. At Lincoln, Nguyen found an image
of a Highway 95 sign on the Internet and tweaked it into
shape. Over at WW, we used a stock image of the Route
66 sign and flipped the numbers upside down.
BEST
PRIZE AT A HAMSTER RACE
Last March, 18 hamsters competed in Northwest Portland in
the first Hamster Grand Prix, sponsored by the School and
Community Reuse Action Project. A two-lane course built
from recycled materials and gussied up with hamster-sized
tunnels, walls and bridges set the scene for the miniature
furry beasts. Nine preliminary races were timed, and the
two fastest contestants then scrambled it out for first
place. As exciting as the race was--even a reporter from
the Wall Street Journal was sent to cover the spectacle--the
real reason hamsters bothered to show up and run was the
second-place prize: one head of lettuce every month for
a year, from Food Front. (First place was just a stinky
old checkup at the vet's.)
BEST
SLOGAN ON A MAILING LABEL
As their slogan, "Breeding with Integrity," implies,
John and Lona Frank, who run ALPACAS of Tualatin Valley
(649-2128), carefully breed the purest lines of alpaca.
Since alpacas were first imported to the United States from
South America in 1983, the Franks have only a few lineages
to work with. "I know all the animals, all the lines, and
I build my business on integrity," Lona says. Not all breeders
are so diligent. Some work with just one lineage, mating
brothers with sisters or fathers with daughters. Others
mix alpacas with plain old llamas or--even worse--camels.
To preserve the alpacas' ancestry, the Franks send the beasts'
blood to the University of California at Davis to confirm
the parental lineage. Got a pedigreed single white alpaca,
fluffy but lonely? The Franks own some impressively named
studs: Silver del Sol, El Dorado and R.P. Valor.
BEST
RESTAURANT NAME THAT
DEFIES THE STEREOTYPE
On Cheers, Norm was a regular at the Hungry
Heifer, a steak-with-a-side-of-angina beef palace. But at
Norm's Garden Chinese restaurant (7710 SW Barbur
Blvd., 452-1757), you're more likely to order a crispy duck
platter ($8.95), crunchy egg rolls ($1.95) or yummy pot
stickers (a $3.95 order of which is nearly a meal in itself).
The cross-cultural name isn't the only odd juxtaposition
here, as the mid-priced meals are served up in the remnants
of a defunct fast-food joint. So although you may feel as
if you should be eating a Big Mac, you're actually treated
to sweet prawns in lobster sauce ($7.95). And the only sign
of a garden is a few potted plants scattered about. George
Wendt would probably dig it--especially the bargain $3.95
lunch specials, served weekdays from 11 am to 3 pm.
 BEST
PROSTHETIC ASS
Listen up Buns of Steelers, primatologists
have confirmed that the urge to augment the size and firmness
of one's buttocks is a desire shared by ape cultures worldwide.
Inspired by the book Robots On Your Doorstop by Nels
Winkless and Iben Browning, Northeast Portland artistic
Wunderkind Amos Latteier, a computer programmer by
day, created a prosthetic ass that not only looks great
but serves as a functional shopping cart and massive fanny
pack. Since that watershed day two years ago, Latteier
has been busy building a better behind using a two-stroke
engine removed from an old chain saw to power its wooden
legs and plastic, human-like feet. This strange, mechanical
pack mule attaches to a person at the waist, walks in tow
and can carry up to 400 pounds. What is believed to be Multnomah
County's first fully-functioning robotic butt made its debut
strut at the Outside-In community science fair in May. Look
for it at future multi-artist shows and science fairs.
BEST
BAR YOU NEVER KNEW ABOUT
Nestled in the heart of the Portland State University
campus and hidden behind the Ione Plaza Cafe, the Second
Act Lounge (1717 SW Park Ave., 227-2855) is probably
not a bar you've noticed before. Sure you can count on a
dose of collegiate charm at that other, more accessible
PSU watering hole, the Cheerful Tortoise, but the Second
Act offers all the lures of a college-dormitory rec room:
Neon beer signs and posters of the Blues Brothers and James
Dean line the walls. Twinkling white Christmas lights reflect
off cozy orange vinyl booths. A mixture of students and
more mature adults makes for a comfortable atmosphere, and
drink specials are a starving student's dream. From $2 whiskey
sours all day Monday to "Buck-or-Two Day" Sundays, when
pints of domestic beers are $1 and well drinks are $2, there's
always a deal going on. And creaming alien spaceships on
the vintage Galaga is still a great means of procrastination.
BEST
STREET NAME
Here's something to consider if your aim is immortality:
If you have a private road, you get to name it. West Linn
Fire Department Capt. Craig Allen researched all of the
city's street names to coordinate and verify them for emergency-response
departments. He turned up one called Chow Mein Lane.
The story behind the name apparently dates back to the 1970s,
when the Orient Apartments were transplanted to make way
for I-205 and mistakenly ended up on the property of one
startled West Linn landowner. Saddled with the unwanted
tenement, the owner at least got to name the road it had
been moved to, and the street became Chow Mein Lane. City
Historian Mike Gates notes that Allen found other unusual
names: Kobuk Court was named for a pet owner's Alaskan husky.
Easy Street was named for a washer called the Easy Machine;
the family who manufactured the machine--the Hoggs--considered
their last name and decided on sly advertisement over immortality.
 BEST
SCRAPYARD-AS-ART RESTAURANT DECOR
When sister and brother Judy and Glen Cartwright
bought Ye Olde Towne Crier three years ago, they wanted
to put their stamp on it without scrapping the building's
charming colonial qualities. But first, the name--with all
those superfluous E's--had to go. Reinventing the place
as the Hollyhurst Grill (4515 SE 41st Ave., 774-1822),
the Cartwrights next commissioned a welder to blow-torch
the name into a sheet of metal and solder a bunch of old
metal cogs, fans and car parts into a "hopefully" kid- and
vandal-proof sculpture-cum-bench. With a painted totem pole
thrown in for colorful contrast, there was no way passersby
would mistake the place for a Yankee B&B. Inside, the
Cartwrights kept the grand stone fireplaces and nooks, which
proved to be perfect counterparts to Judy's garage-sale
kitsch: An antique marionette collection hangs above the
stairwell. Vintage handbags--beaded macrame, cherry vinyl,
woven palm from someone's tropical vacation--serve as planters
everywhere. The chance that you might find your wicker Easter
purse or the blue-and-yellow curtains from your grandmother's
kitchen is a beguiling part of the Hollyhurst Grill's recycled
charm.
BEST
ARTIFACT FROM A PAM EXHIBITION
The coolest thing about the Portland Art Museum's 1998 Splendors
of Ancient Egypt exhibition wasn't the shrouded mummy,
meters-long scrolls or history-heavy narration by Kathleen
Turner. Instead, it was the logo that featured a peering,
kohled eye. When the museum rejected a sidewalk sign
designed by Aztech Signs, Aztech employee Sen Lemoine cast
one savvy gaze on another and took the cast-off sign home.
Lemoine gave the yellow plaque new life as a table top,
affixing it to sidearms from a futon couch and finishing
it off with a specially cut sheet of plexiglass. When asked
how guests react to the original piece of furniture, he
notes that praise is something to the effect of, "Wow. That's
cool. I really like that,"--which is exactly the same response
we had.
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Willamette Week | originally
published July 21, 1999
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