At the confluence of the Willamette and Columbia Rivers, St. Johns was once its own city—even a century after it was annexed, some longtime locals will still tell you they live in St. Johns, not Portland. Early resident James John was not a saint, just a generous guy who donated land for the initial platting and, when he died, wanted his property to be the site of a public school. Today that school’s playground and turf mini–soccer field are enjoyed by neighborhood families, of which there are many—you’ll encounter several tykes at the Swapnplay, or bouncing off the walls at Mike Bennett's Wonderwood.

St. Johns still feels and acts like its own small town. Locals unpack trucks of groceries at the St. Johns Food Share, quilt during the Grief House’s crafting hours. Regulars have been getting buttermilk pancakes and omelets at John Street Café and slathering burritos in avocado salsa at Tienda Santa Cruz for decades. The neighborhood’s two homegrown cinemas, sitting just five blocks away from each other, both predate Portland’s annexation of St. Johns, and area holdouts have made movie nights at either a family tradition.

From May to November, residents push strollers and ride bikes to the St. Johns Farmers Market to sample the lineup of incendiary salsas from Chio and marvel at the variety of cheekily named tomatoes at Pipsqueak. In the summer, they camp out on picnic blankets during the free jazz festival in Cathedral Park and hit the pool within Pier Park when it opens for the season. They gather at the St. Johns Food & Beer Porch food cart pod, drinking complimentary coffee while they wait for their Two of Us breakfast sandwich, or splitting a sourdough pie from Pizza Creature.

But the food scene in St. Johns has undergone a transformation in recent years. Sunday mornings, rain or shine, you’ll see a line of baked-goods enthusiasts waiting to pick up a loaf of triticale or a slab of potato and Gruyère–topped pseudo-focaccia at Starter Bread; some have become CSA members, picking up their loaves from a tub on a neighbor’s porch each week. Around the corner, Gracie’s Apizza buzzes on Friday nights, couples splitting 10-inch rounds topped with leeks and preserved lemon, or sharing scoops of buttermilk ice cream swirled with orange ginger jam. Across Lombard, Bar Nouveau is drawing gourmands from across the city to eat rye sables topped with chicken liver mousse, fried olives evocative of Scotch eggs, and sauce gribiche deviled eggs. And down the street, the unassuming Mosaic Taphouse is a hidden treasure trove of undersung Vietnamese snacks, like crispy bánh xèo and bò lá lốt.

Speaking of bars, St. Johns may be dive bar Valhalla, with a disproportionate number of solid neighborhood watering holes along downtown St. Johns' stretch of Lombard Street: Eat breakfast for dinner or inhale molten jalapeño poppers at Slim’s, sing karaoke at The Wishing Well, or absorb the Lynchian vibes at Marie’s. Philly expats frequent Lombard House for Eagles games, and the North Portland Cribbage League meets at Your Inn Tavern. Fussier cocktail drinkers would probably have better luck at places like The Garrison or Havalina, while wine drinkers swirl and sniff at 45th Parallel.

Between meals and drinks, there's pinball at The Fixin’ To, community schvitzing at Fern & Thistle, and a number of cute little shops to peruse: We love the perpetual estate sale and $5 bin at Shirtzenpantz St. Johns, the proudly leftist vibes at Revolutions Bookshop, and the natural fiber jumpsuits and barrel-leg trousers at Shop Lyko. And of course, you'll find plenty of niche hobbyist hovels here, be it the Weird Sisters yarn store or Blue Moon’s collection of vintage film cameras and typewriters.

Just outside the neighborhood boundary are a few honorary mentions: To the east, there’s legit New Jersey–style pizza at Lombardo’s, including Trenton tomato pies and bar pies, as well as Living Room Wines—part-time specialty coffee shop, part-time chic wine bar, full-time queer community space. And while technically Cathedral Park is its own neighborhood, St. Johns has claimed it as its own. Only fair, considering the city claimed St. Johns first.