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Jim Dandy

9626 NE Sandy Boulevard, Portland, Oregon, 503.253.2126

Along with television, the arms race, a warped Ozzie and Harriet notion of family life that's screwed up more people than secular humanism could ever hope for, and a demographic bubble induced by horny G.I.s that threatens to consume everything in its path, the 1950s brought us the V8. This marvel of internal combustion soon became standard issue in the 4000 pound family sedans Detroit was so capable of producing. Throw in some testosterone, cheap gas, and a straight stretch of fresh blacktop and you've got a movement called hot rodding.

Those misspent youth who spent the daylight hours chroming bumpers, painting on flames, and trying a coax a few more rpms out of Dad's Rocket 88 needed someplace to drive to after dark. And that's how the drive-in came to be. Remembering when you could eat from a tray that hung from a partially opened car window certainly dates you, and if Yaw's Top Notch and the Speck ring a bell, better pull up that rocking chair. Jim Dandy may be the last of the hot rodder's hang outs.

Serving food since 1937, and hosting illegal drag races since Sandy Boulevard was paved, this outpost of the past can still sling a mean burger. With a side of fries and a thick shake-about 30 flavors to choose from-your road meal puts the puny burgers offered up by the national franchise to shame. In a nod to the aging cardiovascular systems of most motorheads, Jim Dandy does offer Gardenburgers and a patty made from turkey. The carhops are gone; nowadays you eat in a small but cheery dining room postered with photos of Portland past, newspaper clippings (including one about a small rot in the parking lot back in 1960 when the police pulled over a local boy and the neighbors took exception to his treatment-all were acquited), and snapshots of the chopped and channeled hot rods that still congregate here every so often.

Breakfast is available, too. Try the tastes-better-than-it-sounds Dick's Slop. A pile of crispy hash browns and two soft buttermilk biscuits are buried under a blanket of thick, sausage-flecked country gravy. Hot, salty, and with a calories from fat percentage you don't even want to think about, it's still a tasty retro dish that invokes those more ignorant, blissful times. Wear rolled up Levis, black low top Converse, and a white undershirt with a pack of Camel straights rolled into the sleeve. Jim Dandy to the rescue!