The Watering Hole: Temple Billiards, 126 S. Jackson St., PIONEER SQUARE
The Atmosphere: Temple Billiards seems pretty claustrophobic upon entry, but high ceilings and two upstairs lounges provide more than enough elbow room to accommodate the bar’s six pool tables. The decor itself is a dichotomous blend of dive bar and upscale, combining exposed brick, soccer scarves, and neon signs with modernist lighting, a few hints of marble, and a painstakingly neat chalkboard menu.
A degree of innate sleaziness comes with every pool hall (blame Tom Cruise), but owner/barkeep Rolando Salinas said one of his most important goals for Temple was to establish “a place where a woman could feel comfortable walking into at 1 a.m.” Despite being located in a neighborhood that’s occasionally painted as some sort of amoral mixture of 1970s Bedford-Stuyvesant and downtown Kabul, it’s hard to feel any sense of danger whatsoever at the Temple.
The Barkeep: Rolando was a graphic designer—which explains the chalkboard’s magnificent typography—before he became sick of life behind a computer screen. Knowing he’d need a job where he could socialize, he got together with a few friends to start the enterprise that now rests at Jackson and Occidental. Surviving both ends of the dot-com bubble, Rolando is now the sole acting owner of Temple Billiards.
The Drink: Rolando was instantly skeptical when I asked for his favorite drink, saying that most people who ask what’s good here are just looking for him to lie and then make them something sweet with vodka. He’s run afoul of so many people asking him to “surprise them” that he pretty much refuses to improvise unless he’s at least given a base liquor.
Although Rolando stopped drinking over a decade ago, he professed that back then he had a weakness for whiskey. When I asked him how he’d prepare whiskey for an enthusiast, he said he couldn’t think of anything better than bourbon neat.
The Verdict: Basil Hayden’s isn’t going to transform into something exotic and new here, but Temple Billiards is a great place to be a passive whiskey-sipper. The pool hall has stood as a sanctuary during an extremely fast-paced era when its surroundings were nearly eviscerated by shortsighted city planning and shameless opportunists. If you’re looking for a clear picture of the modern Pioneer Square, rather than fearmongering tripe, Rolando and the myriad of lawyers, architects, and other locals who make up Temple’s patrons have seen it all from the ground level.
