Treating Puritanical expectations with a wink: Grace

You know how in old westerns the doors of a tavern are these tiny, chest-high swinging things? Outlaws make grand gunblasting entrances through them, and drunks get tossed out from the bar to the dusty street outside almost like there's no barrier at all.

It's pretty much the opposite prospect looking up at the tall, heavy and Hymnal-red doors at Grace Restaurant on Chestnut Street. Not the least bit permeable like the saloon, here you really commit once you go inside. After all, the space is a refurbished church, complete with high-steeple and ornate, beautiful exterior. I expect my only option is to enter with hushed reverence and "have a little talk with God" a la Stevie Wonder.

The vibe's a little different once I take that first step. Some dirty Muddy Waters is cranking through a powerful sound system, and the entire place is aglow like some tropical grove on Pandora. Blues, purples and golds warming a conical ceiling, pools of stained glass lit with romantic, well-placed lamps.

Stripped of its ordered pews, Grace has plenty of space for spacious four-tops and intimate couples tables alike. The bar itself is the nerve center, operated by two lovely ladies, both named Meg. The kitchen is wide open, the exhaust vents are built into to where the massive pipe organ used to be, recalling the mechanical arms affixed to Doctor Octopus. It's really quite a thing to behold.

"What's your favorite drink on this list?" I ask the red haired Meg.

"That's kind of a weird question given that I'm insanely pregnant," she responds. Whoops! No presumptions at Grace. Ultimately, she decides I need to try the house infused strawberry-pineapple-jalapeno tequila, which is a rather devilish magic booze that comes in the Heated Affair, Grace's margarita. 5 minutes later, the tongue is still tingling from the fruit-peppery tang.

If you noted a certain playfulness in the cocktail's moniker, especially given the setting, it's not by accident. In fact, Grace must have decided beforehand to actively combat any churchy overtones by treating Puritanical expectations with a wink. Consider these titles: Holier Than Thou, Heated Affair, Limbo, Divinity, Enlightenment, and Redemption. In fact, if you drink enough of any one of those drinks, it leads you straight to that thing that it's named.

Underneath a massive stained glass window is another bar upstairs, as well as a packed cocktail lounge. Everywhere, there is laughter, enjoyment, and delicious food and drink, in a most unlikely context. At Grace, an ancient Episcopal church has turned into Portland's own wondrous temple to gastronomy.