Another Portland "Another PDX Blog" B.'s Profile

A hippie oasis in the middle of the small, Frank Capra-esque town that is Enterprise, OR. It's amazing that a coffee shop like this, which might comfortably thrive in SE Portland, can survive way out here in the country. Gypsy Java is owned by two belly dancers and is housed inside a former hobby shop.

There's couches and incense for sale. RJD2 was on the hi-fi when I stopped in. An electric guitar was leaning against a wall and a green piano was plopped next to the counter, which bears an intricate carving with gypsy women playing guitars.

They offer free wifi, there's two gaming stations that run $3 an hour and the mochas are tasty. Obviously, this ain't a drinking hole for cowboys but Enterprise's retirees and stay-at-home moms seemed to love it. Needless to say, I was the only male in the joint.

I spoke with one of the co-owners and she said that everyone has been pretty open minded about the coffee bar. "Everybody knows we're belly dancers so they roll with the whole gypsy thing." Even the cowboys come in, on occasion.

I grew up with the place so I must admit that my opinion is clouded by nostalgia and childhood memories of sitting in the bright red trolley car. Does the Old Spaghetti Factory (which was founded in Portland back in '69 by a former owner of the Virginia Cafe, or so I'm told) offer the best Italian food that will ever pass your lips and drop down into your gullet? Of course not. But that's not what keeps bringing families and folks back to this riverside institution.

The service stinks, the food is mediocre but you get a lot for your money's worth. $10, on average, for spaghetti, a drink, all the bread you can eat, a salad or soup and ice cream AND the decor is unusual and unique. Where else can you gobble down a plate of pasta and goat cheese in an old lumber mill while sitting on antique furniture and watching river traffic putter past on the Willamette?

Nowhere. And that's why the OSF is awesome.

I'll always have a soft spot my cold, bitter heart for the Goose Hollow Inn. I've probably spent more time and money in that little tavern than any other business in Portland. It has served as a host to numerous BS sessions over the years. The Reuben sandwich is the best I've ever tasted, although the price continues to edge upwards. It's completely worth the $ though.

There's plenty of stories to tell about running into Bud Clark and his raspberry beret, the night a hundred Zoobombers rolled in out of nowhere when I was talking to a British expat friend who was convinced that Portland was a "sleepy little burg" and the strange guy who's always sitting in the back room. He tends to wear a large, yellow Columbia Sportswear jacket and sunglasses, regardless of the weather.

A great place with a great history. May it live on forever!