Eugene Weekly

Monday nights are usually reserved for recovering from a big weekend or loathing the realities of a new week. At The Barn Light, however, Mondays take on a new meaning: game night.  Sure, it’s nothing compared to the rowdiness of Eugene’s weekend bar scene, but that’s not the intention. On Monday nights, Barn Light is like the ultimate living room with a stocked bar, baristas and board games at the ready. Game night isn’t about whom you know or what you’re wearing, it’s about coming together and rolling the dice.  Continue reading →

A self-described “townie” (he graduated from South Eugene High School), Eirrin’s Bistro and Pub bartender Teren Baker began tending bar two years ago at Emerald Valley Golf & Resort, where he mastered a mean Tom Collins. He juggles slinging drinks with slaying the guitar in his punk-rock band, Pirate Radio, and doing “daddy duty” with his 6-month-old daughter. Ask him about his Guinness Irish bread (yes, that’s a thing). Don’t ask him to store your 12-pack from home in Eirrin’s fridge (yes, that’s happened). Continue reading →

Born but not raised in Eugene, Jackalope bartender Summer McCarty returned to the Willamette Valley in ’93 from Southern Cali, bringing the sunshine with her. After graduating from high school a year early in Junction City, and living in a home that’s been in her father’s family for “over 100 years,” McCarty couch-surfed her way into Eugene residency. When she’s not helping customers down drinks, the yoga lover is doing downward dog, or spending time with her hubby and three kids. What do you drink? Continue reading →

It’s a minute before half past nine on a Saturday night in downtown Eugene’s Barmuda Triangle. Four bartenders dressed in sleek black stand at their posts behind the long, narrow bar at Starlight Lounge. The bar stools have been removed, the limes have been cut and the saltshakers are at the ready. Ding! Ding! Ding! The clock strikes 9:30 and bartender Jonna Threlkeld taps the ceremonial brass bell with a stirring spoon. Patrón Hour has begun; crowds line up at the wooden bar and the cool blue agave nectar flows down rows of shot glasses. Continue reading →

When Johnny Appleseed roamed the countryside planting apple seeds in the late 1700s, he wasn’t growing apples for food. His apples had higher standards, destined to become delicious hard apple cider. Back then, hard cider was the drink of choice, as it was easier to make and more accessible than beer.  Continue reading →

A guy named Kennedy walks into a bar two weeks before St. Patrick’s Day. That sounds like the start of a bad joke, and sometimes it is. Kennedy: a quintessentially Irish name. St. Paddy’s Day: America’s most Irish of holidays. Commemorating the Patron Saint of Ireland, St. Paddy’s has lost its religious meaning, particularly in the U.S., becoming instead an excuse to eat a lot, drink more and toast all things Eire.  Continue reading →