A uniquely Portland story Saturday night, outside Via Tribunali ... and right around the corner from Riverside Tobacco:



Two couples, both in their 40s, are eating dinner at a picnic table in the Ankeny alley. Although they're talking like old friends by the time they reach the mezza luna, one of the couples is local, the other from Germany.



Round about 6:30 p.m.,the Portlanders climb on their bikes and leave ... and the German tourists ask Josh Gibson, their Via Tribunali waiter, what time the local shops close.



Before they reached the Napoliteano pizza parlor, the couple had made several stops in the Pearl. Somewhere along the line, the woman lost her glasses, and they're trying to figure out if they have time to retrace their steps before everything shuts down.



Gibson can't provide much help, of course, though he assures them a few places may remain open late to take advantage of the summer's night. The Germans seem resigned to their loss. They finish their wine and espresso, and pay the bill. They're still gathering their things when the Portland couple returns.



They've spent the last 20 minutes cycling through the Pearl, stopping at the shops these German visitors mentioned over the course of dinner.



And they have the woman's glasses.



On a Saturday night at Via Tribunali, too many folks tromp in to use the restroom and too few diners leave a memorable tip.



But every now and then in the music off the street, you can hear a clear and graceful note, a little Mark Knopfler rising above the Black Sabbath.



The best of the city, quietly rising to the occasion.

