Think more top dog than top chef from the kitchen’s at Ruski’s.  At its most basic this is the parochial neighborhood restaurant and pub.  At brunch, or better described as breakfast, which happened to be this past Sunday, it was filled with a cozy cast of benign characters, otherwise known as ordinary people, wolfing down eggs, pancakes, breakfast sandwiches and plenty of morning booze.   No trendy scene here or sustainable practices de rigueur.  The only thing local on the menu might be beers from Portland brew houses.

Breakfast/brunch at the bar

The bloody Mary, however,  is  a 16-ounce glass filled with the usual stuff, kind of spicy, no salted pepper on the rim but inside the firmest spear of ultra clean and crisp celery and olives on a pick.  I ordered one and it occurred to me that I should specify the vodka otherwise it might have been made from the well– OMG Poland Spring vodka!

What’s called the hangover special is eggs, hash, home fries and toast.  I chose it with a biscuit as my toast choice.

Classic bloody Mary

Considering the place was packed (and pickled?)  at 9:30 AM—families, guys, gals, regulars and visitors—it came out pretty quickly.  The place is served by two waitresses—direct from central casting–who work like crazy to serve the 50 customers who made up the lively neighborhood crowd.  A few looked like they may have been leftovers from the night before, otherwise it was a pretty comely bunch of Sunday morning celebrants.

Ruski’s regulars; drinks menu

The hash looked great but as I poked around it with my fork I realized  this was canned hash.  Still it was crusted up on the flat top and tasted good enough.  The home fries were basic and the eggs were just that, no pastured  rare breed beauties on the plate.

Hash, eggs, home fries, biscuit–the hangover special

At $8.95 for the hash and eggs, $7 for a good bloody and tip and tax this Sunday breakfast/brunch was over $20.  But there’s no other place like Ruski’s in Portland. I think I’ll stick to their burgers, which are about the best in town, and if I truly have a hangover on a Sunday morning, I might stumble in again.