Every reservation book needs a small act of mercy in it. Ours is two stools at the bar that cannot be booked — not by phone, not by regulars, not by anyone who knows Ana personally. They belong to whoever walks in.
The idea came from the first year, when the room kept turning away neighbors who had watched the place being built. A twenty-eight-seat restaurant that locals cannot get into has misunderstood its job. So the stools stay open, first come, and some of the best nights in this room have started with somebody taking a chance on them.
Bar guests get the whole menu — there is no lesser card for the stools — and, if the kitchen is in the right mood, a taste of whatever is being argued about for next week. More than a few regulars started as walk-ins and now book the corner table a month out.
If you are passing through Hood River without a booking, come at five when we open or late when the second wind hits, and ask about the stools. Worst case, we will tell you honestly when to try again. Best case, dinner.
Leave a Reply