Ah, Quality Pie. On NW 23rd across from the hospital. In the late 80s I was a wide-eyed, parochial-schooled suburbanite. Quality Pie, in addition to Powell’s and the McDonalds (now Rich’s Cigars) by the Galleria, was my introduction to the city. Sipping coffee into the wee hours, we observed eccentric late night Portland while we shared grilled cheese sandwiches, french fries, or a slice of truly quality pie.
Portland loses another dining institution when Quality Pie, a 24-hour haven for hipsters, scenesters, scamsters, hamsters, rock stars (pre- and post-nova), street people, alcoholics in various stages of recovery, poets, gamers, insomniacs and other assorted creatures of the night, serves its final cup of joe.
But the year wasn’t all bad. The abnormal, wrong, unnatural and perverse Measure 9 was soundly defeated by the citizens of Oregon, I turned 21, and Dot’s started serving up jalapeno cheddar fries.
Other QP memories:
- Northwest Portland sites sit barren amid bustle – Portland Tribune
- quality pie – The Long Way Around