You have to respect the purity of purpose at Bushwacker Cider (1212 SE Powell Blvd., Suite D, 445-0577, It would be easy to broaden the comfortable, vaguely English pub's appeal by tossing a few bottled Newcastles in the cooler next to 185 ciders. But it would do nothing to add to the atmosphere, which was informed on a recent Saturday night by a high-stakes dart game, a stray catalog for Settlers of Catan expansion packs, a man in a utility kilt and copies of a weekly Portland-based, nerd-themed periodical. Settle in with a taster tray of tap ciders ($6) and some gluten-free pretzel sticks ($3). From the tasters, I was most taken with a barrel-aged version of the supermarket staple Woodchuck, which tasted like a well-blended but fairly syrupy bourbon cocktail. I ordered a pint, and learned maybe there were already a few compromises on the menu, even without any beer. "That stuff is way too sweet for me," says the bartender. "But I want other people to find ciders they enjoy." In that, he's succeeded.