Having been let go from my job at Starbucks a few months ago, I haven’t been able to do a bona fide Mary crawl for quite some time. The following collection of reviews has been culled from the times I have actually been able to afford to go out for a drink over the past two months. Like so many of us, I am currently seeking a place where my talents and skills are appreciated, and soothing my anxieties with the occasional adult beverage. Unfortunately, this blog is not entitled “Drinking Two-Buck Chuck Alone At Home And Trying Not To Spend Every Day Crying With Willy Greer,” so I have not been able to share most of my inebriated experiences on the Barfly website. Nonetheless, I am committed to my goal of trying every Mary in town, which should hopefully show any prospective employers out there that I am passionate and dedicated in the face of overwhelming odds.

If anybody in Portland is looking for a charming, witty and modest Bloody Mary critic/multi-instrumentalist/singer/songwriter/film composer/writer/horror film scholar/Barista/snappy dresser to bring on board his or her team, look no further; I am sitting here in my studio apartment, spending my unemployment checks on DVDs and cheap wine, waiting to be discovered. 

ZELL’S CAFÉ

The rim of Zell’s Mary is lined with cayenne, which is always a good start. It’s rich in texture, bright in flavor, with strong notes of lemon. The mix is made with V-8, which gives it a sweet, fruity (but not cloying) element; in fact, I swore I tasted a hint of banana, which, shockingly, didn’t turn me off. Very well balanced and just unique enough to make you notice. Kudos to Zell’s.

       CHA! CHA! CHA!

We tried several different branches of Cha! on one day, and two of them didn’t have the Mary mix in stock, so be sure and call first if you’re gonna seek this one out. We’re at the Fremont location, which is a bit more hoity-toity than your average Cha! It’s a sunny Sunday afternoon, and they offer a $4.00 Bloody Mary Sunday brunch special. Fucking fabulous.  I’m getting the Bloody Maria (made with tequila) and Michele’s trying the Michelada (which is made with beer).

The Maria is smooth and slightly tangy. Tomato dominates the first sip, and the aftertaste is lemony, which is of course a perfect compliment to the tequila. The Michelada is fucking wild, man. The first time I heard about a Mary made with beer (Random Order’s Bloody Larry), I wasn’t sure I liked the idea. I understand its appeal now. Beer does rule the tasting experience, but it tastes much better with tomato juice than I first could have imagined. I can only assume that this combo was discovered by some poor schlub such as myself, who wanted nothing more than a damn Bloody Mary to get himself out of bed in the morning, but couldn’t afford a bottle of vodka. Necessity is the mother of invention.

Both these drinks are unmistakably Mexican, and a perfect way to start a sunny Sunday morning. I now feel that much closer to mi hermano espiritual Willie Nelson.

SIMPATICA

We’re here on Easter Morning, in order to get warmed up for a full day of sinning. Simpatica’s Mary comes with a skewer of pickled vegetables I’m not very interested in. Michele swears they’re amazing, though: cauliflower; carrot; gold beet; olive and celery. The drink itself, fortunately, is a perfect combination of traditional elements; nothing out of the ordinary, but all ingredients are in perfect harmony. A savory orgy.

SCREEN DOOR CAFÉ

Ooh! A Creole Bloody Mary! Excellent!

The rim is lined with an insanely spicy cayenne pepper, which induces sneezing within three feet (the poor bartenders are literally not allowed to sneeze at any time), and garnishes include, along with traditional olive and lime, pickled okra.

This is one of the five best Marys I’ve had in town. A four-alarm motherfucker. Hearty, zesty, meaty, vegetable-y. Its only drawback is that it will render me unable to taste it after I get halfway through. I’m just going to have to assume that my breakfast tastes good once it gets here. I’m actually in a bit of pain. I’m breaking a sweat. I’m in fucking heaven.