In the Woodstock neighborhood of Southeast Portland is a steakhouse that has been owned and operated by the same family since 1964, Country Bill’s.
Inside is a large restaurant but the cocktail lounge is where you want to dine, among its red vinyl booths and wood-paneled walls. I’m not sure if they still use the restaurant side because when I went there recently with my Portland friends Drew and Dana we were seated in the lounge.
I had a New York steak, which had nice grill marks and was done just right. The meals are very reasonably priced and come with choice of soup or salad and potato, but you can substitute homemade dumplings and gravy for the potato (or rice pilaf, cottage cheese, vegetables, sliced tomatoes, or cole slaw).
New York steak with dumplings and gravy and garlic bread
I’m glad my friend suggested this place when I said I wanted to visit an old steakhouse because it has been up for sale since last year as the owners want to retire, and the real estate broker makes its preservation sound unlikely: “I can’t tell you how many people tell me they just need something like a nice sports bar or something.”. Better go soon!
Country Bill’s mascot
Country Bill’s
4415 SE Woodstock Blvd, Portland, OR 97206
(503) 774-4198
Open for dinner M-Th 4pm-10pm; Fri-Sat 4pm-11pm; Sun 4pm-9pm; bar opens at 3pm daily
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I remember. Seems they used to have a twofer special. All the landmarks are slowly but surely disappearing. The Portland I remember from the war years is a completely different city from the Portland of today. Only a few token landmarks survive. I got my social security card at the Pioneer Courthouse. Sipped gallons of buttermilk for a nickel downtown and we bought peanut butter from a barrel at the huge market where the Journal building now (I hope) still stands.
The Journal building has been gone for over 40 years if you are recalling the one on Front Ave. with the green neon (?) Journal/KPOJ sign.
That’s the place. The Journal was very kid-friendly. We used to pick up papers for a penny and peddle them for 3 cents. When I had a paper route, the Journal had subscription contests and let us fly all over the Portland area in a DC3 (a huge airplane at the time) and they sent us to Timberline for a day of all-paid skiing. For awhile they had a cartoon class there where an artist helped wannabe artists draw cartoons. The Journal treated me well as a kid, but my customers didn’t pay well and I had to pay for my papers before I got to look at my (almost non-existent) profits.
Being a kid in Portland was really a lot of fun but the Portland I remember is not the Portland I see today. Only a few reminders, but it’s just not the same.