In the belief that bars are Portland’s most accurate repositories of history, we’ve listed them in reverse-chronological order from the date they opened. Start with the new, and end with the old.
You're in a garbage-food heaven made of nuts and veg.
Welcome to Joey Harrington’s bar.
“This is the coolest wine bar in the world,” the Dandy Warhols’ Courtney Taylor-Taylor told us while sitting in his own Slabtown wine bar.
It’s a warm room with the best bar pizza Portland has ever seen.
Casa Vale is the kind of dim, drunky, comfortably hip tapas and cocktail bar the town's been missing.
Get the nachos.
It's a literal house on Lombard, and not a big one.
It’s easily the most heatedly anticipated wine locale to roll into Portland in years.
Already, Century has the vibe other would-be hipster sports bars have failed to create.
There are no passwords or fake-secret knocks.
That kickass burger is $5 on Wednesdays
For a bar explicitly devoted to pop, there’s a sense that this, finally, is a place where history is preserved.
It’s also the most discussed, debated and imitated brewery in the state, having completely changed the conversation around IPA.
It's worth the trek.
Bars may be quiet or bars may be loud, but rarely are they so dreamlike.
The Tater Tots are plentiful, the beer taps are pretty damn good, and the bands are sometimes so local they don’t even leave the neighborhood.
It could be the fact that Shift Drinks’ happy hour runs all day.
Big Buck Hunter and pinball may materialize one day.
At Stag, my ripped, shirtless bartender offered me a free “Barbie shot.”
They've got the holy grail of plant-based comfort food: vegan chicken and waffles.
Before it was the Nest, the building was home to Joe’s Place, one of several black-owned businesses on Northeast Alberta Street, a neighborhood that was once Portland’s African-American cultural hub.
It's the lone beacon of all-ages punk action anywhere near Irvington.
It’s like partying at the parental home of a rich friend who doesn’t give a shit.
Hawthorne art project and drinkery Likewise has always made it clear that business wasn’t really their business.
The oafish branding couldn't be more at odds with the Portland aesthetic.
Stammtisch is both Portland’s best German restaurant and its best German bar by a mile.
The house specialty lies in improvising concoctions uniquely matched to the tastes/moods/eccentricities of their clientele.
It's impossible to go wrong with anything from this menu.
They have 36 dedicated beer taps (and four more to boot).
All you need to know is that there's a photo booth labeled “Confessions.”
"Have a Drink, Meet a Friend” is the unofficial motto.
White Owl accepts all. It’s kind of like capitalism that way.
It serves as a clubhouse of sorts for the Oregon progressive wine scene that welcomes all.
Pix is a world-class Champagne and sherry bar, and a continental-caliber frustration.
At Northeast Broadway's Hale Pele, you feel like you’re in the best little bar in fake Hawaii.
Half the customers at this Belmont Street bar look like they walked out of a Steely Dan video. And the others? They just want nachos.
Dinner spot by day, it’s a packed meat market and drinker’s paradise at night.
Take your Tinder date upstairs and nestle into a cozy nook on Victorian-style sofas set.
Same as with the Beatles—whose Let It Be album inspired Dig A Pony’s name—popularity doesn't necessarily mean lowered standards.
Though still loosely tropical in name and spirit, with a full page of cane-based cocktails, it’s outgrown the shtick to become one of the finest cocktail spots in town.
It's tin-roof patio is among the best in Slabtown.
Those in search of the fruity, spicy and sour flavors of Belgium will find their hearts set ablaze at Hilda Stevens' cozy 17-tap haven.
The Lovecraft was founded by its owner, Jon Horrid (no joke), because he hated bars, in general.
Blond-wood, sun-drenched gastropub Grain & Gristle serves the best burger in Portland.
Star Bar, like the very best nightspots, fosters the promise of aspirational bonhomie.
Order the Bar Bar classic burger and one of the cheapest, stiffest margaritas in town.
North Portland's Fixin' To has always been a little bit outlaw country, a little bit rock 'n' roll.
Grab one of the many cheap tallboys on offer and head outside, because Landmark boasts some of the most prime patio space in town and some of the only horseshoe pits.
The cocktails are uniformly well-made and the bites are inexpensive and designed as side snacks.
It’s decorated with kitchy felt paintings and a glowing plastic parrot.
For someone who knows nothing about the South, Pope House seems like a Southern Victorian home I’d like to grow old in while constantly discussing horse racing.
Calling Lion’s Eye a dive bar is an unfair assessment of what’s easily the best bar on Southeast 82nd Avenue.
Northeast Fremont Street's Free House is a place of resolute middlebrow comforts.
Aside from being one of the city’s best beer bars and bottle shops, Saraveza is a hot spot for the city’s Packers faithful.
So rarely do you find a two-story valentine to everything you love or used to love about Portland, perfectly preserved by a bunch of liquor.
The bar is cheap, no-nonsense fun in a way that takes all comers and yet is loving toward its longtime regulars.
But if Bailey’s is too busy, the biggest little secret in the Portland beer scene is the Upper Lip.
Teardrop Lounge was one of the first spots to kickstart the mixology renaissance.
You really can’t beat Victory’s lineup of comfort food, cocktails and awesome beers.
Montavilla's now decade-old taphouse is lovable hodgepodge of many great things.
Aside from the folks waiting on Tinder swipes, just about nobody comes alone nor without clear purpose, and it’s hard to imagine what regulars would even look like.
Ten years’ worth of bar-patron patina have transformed the Florida Room into the lovable dive we know today.
B-Side remains delightfully scummy.
Anyone who manages to drink 30 of the bar’s more than 80 whiskeys gets a shirt and special privileges.
The restroom needs more graffiti. But "EAT SHIT, KYLE" is a good start.
There is no bar burger that has sustained more loyalty in Portland.
One of the best happy hour deals in the city? The $6 nachos, which look about a full foot high.
If you’re trying to get “turnt” and then hit up Sizzle Pie, go here.
Foster-Powell strip club Devils Point is probably the most famous strip club in Portland.
Also: Jell-O shots that come in a flight, topped with whipped cream and Pop Rocks.
Sassy's remains one of the city's most laid-back nudie bars.
They endure by serving things that taste good.
You've probably passed by it a million times. Do yourself a favor and go in.
The Low Brow’s true miracle has been lingering just long enough that what seemed like garish excess in the ’90s now feels like an authentic holdover from Portland’s industrial past.
Beulahland is a neighborly bar, with the city’s first novelty Vend-o-Rama vending machine.
It's home to every old-Portland nostalgic, hard drinker, retiree, party kid and blue-collar worker in the neighborhood.
You'll hear a lot of “We Are Family.”
Reel M Inn operates at three speeds exactly.
If there's anything you can take away from Higgins, it's that you can teach an old dog new tricks.
It’s commonly packed tight with friendly former bohemians who can now afford the Laurelhurst neighborhood.
The bar’s open every day of the year, and patrons organize extensive potlucks each Thanksgiving and Christmas.
As far as strip clubs in the numbers are concerned, 205 is No. 1.
This is a tried-and-true sports pub right down to the copious Budweiser schwag.
If you’re looking to meet someone IRL for a late-night, last-ditch Friday-night hookup, this is the dive bar to find.
The original Chicago Coin’s Band Box jukebox is the crown jewel of the bar.
The bar might host card tournaments for the elderly and infirm early in the day, a wedding party in the afternoon, and a six-deep indie-rock bill later on.
The Horse Brass lives triumphantly on after 40 years.
At least half the customers in the bar have been enjoying sessions with libations for more than 20 years here.
But there’s even more history inside the iPad of bartender Troy Berry—championship-winning basketball coach at Lincoln and Benson.
The tiki vibes begin and end with a decorative paper surfboard that says “TIKI."
Few things have changed since the early days when the club catered to merchant marines.
You go for the atmosphere, established by decor from the late ’40s that's barely been touched since the ’80s.
Lutz claims to be the bar that started the national resurgence of Pabst Blue Ribbon.
It's one of Portland’s last bars to still have hair on its chest and a swagger in its boots.
It’s too lackadaisical about its own squalor to actively engage in the city’s ongoing culture war.
Fleetwood Mac is somehow always playing and the food is greasy in the best way possible.
After 83 years, the whole damn place is unaffected.
The rickety-looking tavern high above the city is still one of the best places to escape for a quick scenic drive and a beer with a side of fresh air.
The bar is a replica of its former self that never quite existed in anyone’s memory.
Awash in neon, from the elaborate marquee out front through the memorabilia in the back, Kelly’s is a singular bar.