Posts tagged Portland Maine

The tomato-fennel soup and the duck rillettes (also fantastic, and remarkably more photogenic)

God, I am still writing about soup. For the record, I’m kind of sick of it, too. Not eating the soup, soup is great, but writing about it.

In any case, I think every person who has ever been to Portland, ME or thought about going to Portland, ME is familiar with Duckfat. It is a smallish, casual restaurant that specializes in paninis, duckfat fries, and milkshakes. It is owned by Rob Evans, who was until very recently the chef-owner of Hugo’s. (Also, a cook at Duckfat, Melissa Corey just won on the cooking competition tv show Chopped.) Duckfat is an incredibly likeable place. People flock to it. And as much as it sort of pains me to have Portland visitors talk about a sandwich shop as the ne plus ultra of Portland dining, I also really like Duckfat.

On a summer Saturday, the doors and windows will be open and there will be crowds of people milling around on the sidewalk waiting for seats and waiters weaving through mass of humanity and it is lively and bustling. Personally, though, I like Duckfat more in the winter and on weeknights. At those times, it’s quiet and warm and low-key and, again, incredibly likeable. They do things that would feel contrived in other places: water in mason jars and your food served on cutting boards, and it doesn’t feel contrived at all. Or maybe it feels a tiny bit contrived but the general congeniality of the whole place washes away my cynicism about things like that. And of course, the food is very good.

The paninis and duckfat fries and shakes and salads are great. (My favorite panini is the duck confit and my favorite dipping sauce is the aioli and my favorite shake is all of them.) But you are missing out if you haven’t had their soups. They tend to have two on their regular menu (a tomato-fennel and a yellow beet and tangerine most recently), plus a soup special. I want you to think about how good a soup has to be to be as good as or better than a duck confit panini and duckfat fries with aioli. They are that good.

Unfortunately, I find it a little hard to write about what makes their soups so good. There is just nothing that tastes wrong. The ones I’ve had have all been pureed soups, so it’s not like I can get into a discussion of potato integrity or lentil texture. The flavors have been clear and simple and incredibly well-balanced. They are absolutely delicious.

I had a carrot soup from maybe two years ago that I still remember— it had a little bit of parsnip in it that added just the right amount of earthiness and depth. Then a few weeks ago I had a wonderful maple-roasted parsnip soup— maple-y but not too sweet and tasting like the best version of a parsnip. And their tomato fennel drizzled with basic oil is fantastic. It is the soup that makes me disappointed when I make tomato soups, because they are never as good.* The roasted fennel flavor is clear but not overpowering and matches the tomato perfectly. It is wonderful. You should order it.

And with that, let’s not talk about soup for a while.**

* Do not think that this means I will stop hassling you about making your own soups! You should! You can make very good soup at home.

** Do read the rest of the soup-o-rama restaurant reviews, though. Portland Food Map will have a round-up later today.

The gist of this post, in case you don’t want to read to the end and go through a whole decision-making process, is that I love Laughing Stock Farm and I think they still have spots available in their summer CSA.* You should join! It’s great and super flexible!

The other point is that there are many types of farms and CSAs**, and which (or if) one works best for you depends on a number of things. When I was first choosing a CSA, I made a spreadsheet. I am the kind of person who encounters a situation with many options and variables and makes a spreadsheet. You could make a list? Or mentally compare? I just don’t want you to lay down $500 and be unhappy.

Here are some things to consider:

Price: They’re not all $500. Many are quite a bit less, especially if you’re getting a half share. But you should feel like you’re getting a good value. Do the math and figure out the per-week cost; how does that compare to your grocery bill?

Convenience: Where are the pickups? Near you or your work? Who else might be picking up your share? Is it easy for them, too, or are they not going to be able to make it most of the time? How long is the pickup open? For me, there is a huge difference between a pickup that goes to 6:00 pm vs. 6:30 pm vs. 7:00 pm in terms of both the amount of stress in my life and the number of pickups that I simply have no shot of making. This is a time to consider honestly how often you work late. Know that there is a difference between being able to leave work at 5:15 pm and actually leaving work at 5:15 pm. You probably want a CSA that fits your life as you live it.

Share Size: I want to get the bulk of my vegetables from the farm share, but I don’t want things rotting in the fridge. That makes it seem so easy! It’s not. How many vegetables you want per week depends on how many people you’re feeding, but also how often you cook, whether you cook mostly vegetables or mostly meat with vegetables as sides, whether you’re going to be eating the vegetables for lunch, whether you can or freeze vegetables for later. Some farms will only offer whole shares, but you can split them with a friend. Quite a few farms offer whole and half shares, or even a range of share sizes. Talk to the farmer about how much food is included on a given week if you’re not sure. If you’re in the northeast, know also that you’re going to get less food in June than in August.

Crops: If you love bok choy with all your heart, make sure the farm grows bok choy.*** You can always talk to the farmer about whether they’d be willing to try growing your personal favorite crops, but this tends to be more effective if you’re a member of the farm already. Many farms that have websites list their crops on their site, take a gander. You should also think about how much flexibility you have in the crops on any given week. 

Experience: Farming is hard. Things go wrong: too much rain, not enough rain, not enough rain followed by too much rain all at once, late Spring frosts, too much heat, not enough heat, late blight and all manner of plant diseases, all manner of bugs, deer, rabbits, staff that quit halfway through the season, tractors that break down, plastic mulch that blows away, it goes on. I personally think that an established farm is more likely to know how to handle all these crazy things that go wrong. You may want to support a farm that’s just starting out. That’s fine! Apparently I care more about having tomatoes than supporting the little guys.

Organic? Organic certified? Not organic? There are certified organic farms, farms that don’t go through the certification process but farm organically, farms that are mostly organic except with certain crops, farms that use integrated pest management to control bugs which means they sometimes use pesticides, etc. Figure out what matters to you. Know that there may be crops that are very hard to grow organically in your region (like apples here).

Nearness of Farm: If you’re picking up from a drop-off location and not the farm, do consider how far away the farm is. Many farms have pick-your-own crops (for example: herbs, peas, strawberries, asparagus, flowers) and it’s nice to be able to pick those if you want. I will say: I highly recommend visiting the farm at least once, and I really like being able to easily drive to the farm now.

This is a field of the pick-your-own flowers at Laughing Stock Farm. No kidding.

Other Stuff: Is the farm financially viable and contributing to the health of the local economy? Do you care about that? Also, and maybe most importantly, do you like the farmers? That counts for a lot.

Aside from Laughing Stock Farm, Local Harvest has a searchable listing of CSAs.  If you’re in Maine, MOFGA (Maine Organic Farmers and Growers Association) has a good directory of CSAs.

* “CSA” stands for Community Supported Agriculture. When I say CSA, I generally mean a program that lets you buy a “share” in a farm and receive a portion of what they grow each week during the season.

** One big caveat: In Portland, a number of farms offer what they call CSAs but seem to me more like a discount for pre-paying at the farmer’s market. You pay a chunk to the farm up front, and then can spend that money at the farmer’s market during the season with a small (10% seemed common) discount. If that works for you, great! It clearly works for a fair number of people. It wasn’t what I wanted, and you can read more about why here if you care.

*** With the obvious caveat that not all crops grow in all places.

Fisherman’s Grill clam chowder

Despite loving chowder, and despite the availability of “New England chowder” almost anywhere in the country, I do not order chowder in restaurants. Terrible things are done in the name of “New England chowder”: gluey broth, overcooked seafood, virtually no seafood at all, clam chowders that don’t include the clam bellies, disintegrating potatoes and all manner of mush, bread bowls. Bread bowls!

Chowder is a food of my people, and I will not eat it in a hollowed-out dinner roll.

Still, when our group of Portland food bloggers chose “chowder” as this month’s topic, I thought I was fine. I would write about an ancestral chowder recipe and discuss the horror show that can be restaurant chowder without ever having to have it cross my lips and at the same time spread the gospel of a good homemade chowder. We would all feel great. I would have leftover homemade chowder in the fridge! Then A. told me that actually, it was supposed to be a restaurant review and my whole plan went to shit.

I mean, I get it. People come to Portland and they want to eat chowder or lobster in a scenic location gazing out upon the ocean. When my friends and family come to Portland and say they feel like going to a seafood restaurant, they are not talking about going to Miyake, despite my best efforts to convince them that Miyake has a wide selection of foods-from-the-ocean. They are talking about chowder and lobster rolls and ocean-gazing and salty Mainers with thick accents. The things that I enjoy about Portland— that we are not forced always to be extras in a theatrical interpretation of a small ocean-side city for the benefit of camp parents and cruise ship tourists— aren’t always as satisfying to visitors.

But I can be a trooper! I went with S. to Gilbert’s, which has the whole salty-Mainer vibe down pat along with particularly wonderful location. The chowder was not my favorite (disintegrating potatoes and a sort of starchy broth), but I have also eaten worse chowders.

Gilbert’s Chowder House on Commercial St. in downtown Portland

My next stop on the Great Chowder Tour was Fisherman’s Grill/Net (there is a certain lack of clarity around the name of the restaurant, but the majority of the signage said Fisherman’s Grill Fisherman’s Net is next door and is unaffiliated) on Forest Ave. Initial plans to visit  were foiled by poor planning on my part, but I finally made it.

Now. There are scenic parts of Portland, and Fisherman’s Grill is not in one of them. It is wedged next to Haggarty’s Brit-Indi Takeout* and just down the street from RSVP Discount Liquors and apparently not far from Tebb’s Headshop NOW OPEN. Let’s go to the photos:

This happens to be my new neighborhood, and I want to say in its defense, Forest Ave. is surrounded by perfectly lovely residential streets.

The restaurant is tiny, with a few tables and a counter and one guy. There’s a framed picture of the Bruins with the owners (I think?) on Great Diamond Island and a buoy in the corner. I got a cup of the clam chowder.

It was when the guy was packing up my styrofoam cup of chowder and said that he included some grilled marble rye that I decided that I would have a really, really hard time writing a bad review of the place.

Happily, the chowder was amazing. I honest-to-God did not think this was going to happen. I thought it would be mediocre and I would write a long thing about how chowder from restaurants anywhere is terrible and extoll the benefits of cooking from scratch. But it was really, really good chowder. The top was sprinkled generously with black pepper and minced parsley and there were tons of big chunks of not-overcooked clam. The chowder was thick, but creamy and smooth, not starchy or gluey and wonderfully flavorful. The marble rye was amply buttered. It was so good. I instantly regretted not ordering a bowl.

They’re not open Mondays, and they only accept cash or local checks. I highly, highly recommend it.

Fisherman’s Grill

849 Forest Ave

Portland, ME

Also: I will be posting an ancestral chowder recipe this week, at which point we can discuss at more length the finer points of potato integrity.

Also also: You can read the other chowder reviews here, here, here, here, and here.

* Has anyone ever in the history of eating in this fine country felt like what we lacked was some Brit-Indi takeout? I have not ever, and yet I feel somewhat compelled to try Haggarty’s.

Last year, our group of Portland food bloggers made restaurant recommendations for a Valentine’s Dinner first date in Portland (which, oh my Lord, do NOT go on a first date on Valentine’s Day). I told you all to cook your own damn romantic dinner, more or less. This year, the assignment is dinner advice for the single among us.*

Eating Out

Even though I have spent nearly a third of my life in a relationship with Dave, I’ve also spent Valentine’s Day by myself a fair amount over the years. And in general, I really like going out to eat by myself: I like that the servers are often more attentive and sometimes the kitchen sends over extra dishes; I like that I don’t have to negotiate sharing; I like that I can read my book at the table. It makes me feel adult and sophisticated. It is, further, the kind of thing that you have some obligation to do if there are people in the world who refer to you as “Aunty V.”

But I cannot in good conscience advocate going out to eat by yourself on Valentine’s Day. I have this theory that the people who are really committed to the idea of Valentine’s Day and romantic dinners out on Valentine’s Day do not understand the particular allure of an Adult and Sophisticated Lady/Gentleman eating dinner alone. You do not need to be pitied by women who are pleased with gifts of heart-shaped necklaces from Kay Jewelers.

If you must go out to eat, I would recommend going somewhere that does not radiate “romantic restaurant.” Go someplace brightly lit that doesn’t take reservations. Go someplace where it would feel inappropriate to hold hands across a table.

I recommend Enzo. I don’t know that I’ve written about Enzo here before, but it is just my favorite. It’s on Congress Street, right next to its conjoined twin Otto Pizza.** Enzo is the eat-in restaurant side of things. The lighting is dim, but it’s dim in a bar-type way, rather than a gaze-into-my-eyes-lovingly type way. The space is tiny, with a bar and pass-through to Otto running along one side and a few tables smashed up against the opposite wall. Even better, there are no two-person tables in the place.

You get your pizza from Otto by way of the pass-through behind the bar. If you order pizza by the slice, you go to the counter at Otto, see what they’ve got available and place your order, tell them you’re eating next door, then go grab a table. The bartender will bring over your slices and get your drinks. I enjoy the butternut squash pizza, as well as the mashed potato, but it’s hard to go wrong. The crust is thin and chewy, there are plenty of toppings but not so many that you get overwhelmed or things get soggy, they are not afraid to layer carb-based toppings onto a pizza crust. I also like that they pour wine in juice-glass-like tumblers, and although it’s hard to judge because the shape is different from traditional wine glasses, based on personal experience I strongly suspect that you’re getting a large amount of wine. There isn’t much that two slices of great pizza and a giant glass of wine can’t fix. The bartenders are also lovely.

Eating In

And of course, it would not be vrai-lean-uh without the recommendation to stay home and cook. And by that I mean, actually cook yourself dinner. It’s worth respecting the emotional power of a real, home-cooked meal. In the months when Dave and I have been apart (for a variety of work- and school-related reasons, it adds up to a bit over a year all told), I often half-assed dinner with a combination of cheese and crackers and some lame salad situation. But a real dinner was (and is) gratifying in a way that cereal on the couch while watching The Bachelor will never be.*** You can invite a friend over or not, but if you’re at a loss for what to make, I’d recommend Pasta Puttanesca.

First, the name translates to “pasta in the style of prostitutes”, which is amusingly evocative for a Valentine’s Day dinner. Second, it is delicious. Third, you can use all the anchovies you want because you answer to no man (or woman)! Fourth, you’re not going to be overwhelmed with dishes when you’re done.

Pasta Puttanesca

3 - 4 servings

Bring a pot of salted water to boil.

Heat 2 - 3 tablespoons of olive oil in a skillet over medium-low heat. Add 4 garlic cloves, either minced or put through a garlic press, and 4 chopped anchovies. Cook until garlic is lightly golden.

Add one 28 oz. can of plum tomatoes to the skillet with the garlic and anchovies. You can buy the diced ones or break them up with your hands or spatula. Add some salt and pepper. Cook until the liquid is slightly reduced.

Add 1/2 cup chopped kalamata olives, 2 tablespoons capers, and 1/2 a teaspoon red pepper flakes to the sauce. Continue to simmer.

Meanwhile, cook 3/4 to 1 lbs of spaghetti until tender but not mushy. Drain, and toss with the sauce. Top with some chopped parsley if you have it.

* And as A. pointed out, it doesn’t actually matter a huge amount what the assignment is, since we’ll all just write about whatever we want anyway.

** There was recently a bit of a kerfuffle about Otto pizza and its similarity to Mario Batali’s Otto Pizza (embarrassingly, even though I have been to Otto Pizza in New York, I did not notice the similarities until they were pointed out to me). Strong language was used and people left with Feelings. You can make up your own mind about the issue and the extent to which it matters to you.

*** I do still appreciate the particular use and value of cereal on the couch while watching The Bachelor. Also, at some point we should talk about how, even though Courtney is legitimately awful, Emily really has to just let. it. go.

There are many adorable local shops in Portland. RSVP Discount Beverage is not adorable. On the adorable scale, it lives just south of Route 1 in Saugus and a strip mall parking lot.

Inside, however, they have a really good selection of products (including local beers and hard ciders) and a completely wonderful and adorable saleswoman who has taken my ridiculous questions and given thoughtful recommendations.

For example, I went in last month looking to purchase some port, sherry, and bourbon for an obscure holiday cocktail entitled Whispers of the Frost. I want you to picture in your mind going to a liquor store employee and telling them that you plan to mix port, sherry, bourbon, and sugar together in a cocktail and could they give you some pointers. Imagine, if you can, that this employee does not laugh at you. Truly. Whispers of the Frost? Port and sherry? Seriously? I would laugh at you. But no. Instead, she asked me if the recipe specified tawny or ruby port, or a type of sherry. When it turned out that they did not, she looked up the drink online, was not able to find further details, but was able to find a recipe that linked to recommended ports and sherries, and pieced together some ideas from there. And thus, I left with a variety of good but not hugely expensive bottles and an exhortation to give sherry a second try because it really is better than most people think.

She also found me a good wine to have with my moose stew.

When I look online, I see all these reviews of RSVP complaining about their service, which I just don’t get at all. Maybe these people didn’t ask for recommendations?*

In any case, my experiences have been entirely positive and Whispers of the Frost was dramatically better than I had any reason to expect.

RSVP Discount Beverage
887 Forest Ave
Portland, ME
207-773-8808

* I am a person who asks for advice in stores. I would say that I am afraid I will turn into one of those crazy old ladies that want to have long conversations about the merchandise in busy stores in the middle of the day except that I suspect I am already that lady. But a person doesn’t work in a book store, or a liquor store, or a corduroy pants shop or what have you to make big money. They probably work there because they like corduroy pants and they’ve probably picked up a fair amount about corduroy pants and I basically never regret it when I ask for advice. (Except the J. Crew salespeople who are constantly recommending their “matchstick” pants which is a style that I enjoy just fine on others but looks legitimately terrible on me and will not ever be a good idea.)

Writing a blog can be weird. There are so many things, food-related, that happen in a day, and only some of them easily translate into blog posts. Even by my standards, which are relatively low.* Things that are weird, or FANTASTIC, or TERRIBLE translate well to blog posts. But most of my life is not actually hugely weird, or FANTASTIC, or TERRIBLE. There’s a lot that’s in this middle ground of just my life.

For example: I had greek yogurt with pomegranate seeds and brown sugar and slivered almonds for breakfast every single day this week. It was good. I decided that I shouldn’t feel guilty about adding brown sugar, because the amount of sugar is still less than if I ate flavored yogurt. I included the sugars that occur naturally in the yogurt, by the way, for an even comparison. I didn’t include the sugars in the pomegranates because I would count those separately as a fruit. That doesn’t really make a week’s worth of posts, you know?

There are restaurants that occupy this same middle ground. That’s not to say that the restaurant is mediocre, just that it isn’t MINDBLOWING or THE WORST THING EVER. I go to Pai Men Miyake pretty frequently. I like it. I enjoy going there. It’s nearby, it’s quick, I like the food, the people are nice, it’s inexpensive. I enjoy looking at the curvy metal sculpture that hangs from the ceiling and the wooden end-grain blocks that make up the wall. The whole eating experience is pleasant and low-key. Just the idea of that blog post is boring me.

I went tonight and branched out and didn’t order the brussels sprouts, which was big for me because I order them basically every time I go. When they first opened, I was iffy on the ramens, but Dave got a pork and chicken ramen tonight and it was just fantastic. FANTASTIC. Their menu has expanded. I finally tried the yakitori (I got the duck breast, which was lovely). Pretty gradually over the last year the restaurant has gotten better and better. There just wasn’t ever anything that made me think I SHALL WRITE ABOUT THIS. It was just, a restaurant that I liked.

The thing that made me think finally of writing about them, the news that actually is NEW AND EXCITING, is that they make macarons now. I spend a fairly significant amount of mental energy wanting macarons in any given week, so I’m pretty jazzed about this. I LOVE the macarons.

But I also just really like the restaurant.

* It’s tumblr! It’s all feeeeelings and cat gifs and feminist ryan gosling. Which I love, by the way, but just sets different expectations than like, wordpress.

A month (or more?) ago, Rabelais, the cooking and food bookstore in Portland, offered up a set of review copies of cookbooks to local bloggers.* I procrastinated until last weekend, when I finally went to dig through the somewhat picked-over selection of books.

I left with three books (the reward for waiting so long)— the Bluestem cookbook, Artisan Cheese Making at Home, and Bitters: A Spirited History of a Classic Cure-All by Brad Thomas Parsons. I’m waiting until my order of raw milk comes in before trying out cheese recipes, and the Bluestem book wasn’t well-suited to the time constraints ahead of me, so I dove into Bitters.

Using Parson’s definition, bitters are “aromatic flavoring agent[s] made from infusing roots, barks, fruit peels, seeds, spices, herbs, flowers, and botanicals in high-proof alcohol (or sometimes glycerine).” They’re a flavoring agent for cocktails, more or less, used the way you’d use salt and pepper or spices in cooking. My experience with bitters up to a few weeks ago was a deep fondness for the sazerac cocktail and the recent purchase of Pechaud’s bitters, which I used exclusively to make a lazy sazerac at home and knew basically nothing more about. I do not own a cocktail shaker.

So I may not be the target audience for a 200+ page book on bitters. And there was a moment in the reading, specifically page 96 when Parsons lists ten essential bitters, actually eleven because he assumes, nay insists, that you already have Angostura, and includes three different types of orange bitters, that I felt a little like I had fallen into some crazy internet forum full of people with sleeve garters and handlebar mustaches. The book can occasionally swerve a little off the road at obscure into esoteric.

That’s not to say I’m not fond of it. On the whole it is a very good and thorough book that left me with a deeper appreciation of bitters than I had before. It covers enormous ground: historical background, tutorials on making your own bitters, a buying guide, extensive cocktail recipes, and a small selection of cooking recipes. The writing was engaging enough that it carried me from the Carthusian monks of the 1700s brewing Chartreuse through The Great Angostura Shortage of 2009-2010 with a minimum of eye-rolling. I not only have a better grasp of bitters, but I have ideas for how to use them in drinks and cooking.

I have to pause here to give fair credit to my friends Anna, Juli, and Josh, who showed up at my doorstep on Saturday and not only tested out recipes with me but brought along a bottle of Bitterman’s Xocolatl Mole Bitters (#8/9 on the list of 10/11 essential bitters). If you’re going to Learn Bitters in a weekend, I highly recommend doing so with friends like these.

We tried out some pretty simple recipes (the first drink in the traditional cocktail section and the spiced nuts in the “bitters in the kitchen” section), but they were great and would see you through the Christmas season very well.

Old-Fashioned

It feels wrong to include just the recipe here and not the three paragraphs of interesting historical background and drink-making notes, but that’s why you should buy the book.

• 2 ounces rye or bourbon
• 1/4 ounce simple syrup (syrup of 1 part sugar dissolved into 1 part water)
• 3 dashes Angostura or other aromatic bitters
• Garnish: thick piece of lemon or orange zest

Combine the rye or bourbon, simple syrup, and bitters in a mixing glass filled with ice. Stir until chilled and strain into a chilled double old-fashioned glass filled with large pieces of cracked ice or a large ice cube. Garnish with the lemon or orange zest.

We used bourbon with orange zest in round 1 and the cherry-infused bourbon with orange zest in round 2 (omitting the simple syrup because the cherry bourbon included sugar). The cherry bourbon was a bigger hit than the regular old-fashioned, but both were wonderful. I had thought that I understood what this drink was about, and I absolutely did not. You should try making yourself one.

We also made sweet and spicy bar nuts using the Xocolatl Mole bitters, which were wonderfully good, a bit sticky, and very easy to make.

I had not expected much from the book, to be honest, when I picked it up. But it’s totally great. It would make a fantastic Christmas gift for someone into cocktails.

I may end up buying myself a copy just so I can use it without wrestling with the slippery pages held together with a binder clip (not all review copies involve things like bindings, by the way).

* This, like most of the coordinated and organized things that I do here, was orchestrated by A. at Portland Food Map, who deserves some kind of gold star both for finding so many interesting projects for us and for herding our little group of cats. You can find links to the other bloggers’ cookbook reviews at Portland Food Map.