Posts tagged portland maine
Posts tagged portland maine
It seems like Salvage BBQ has been around forever, but I realized it hasn’t when I saw that they had won “Best New Restaurant 2014" from the Portland Phoenix.*
We got done with Bear’s pediatrician appointment late in the afternoon the other day, and headed over for an early dinner. It’s a great place to go with a kid. It’s fairly kid-friendly, but isn’t specifically designed for kids and the food is good, so you as a parent don’t feel like you’ve just completely given up and are now eating dinner in a glorified Chuck-E-Cheese.
The space is gigantic, bright, and fairly open, so well-suited to letting your late-afternoon post-pediatrician toddler run amok. You can watch buses driving along Congress St. through the big windows that line the place, which also suits our current interests. And it’s casual enough that you’re not ruining anyone’s fine dining experience or feeling awkward about getting up and walking around while you wait for your food. A small crowd was there to watch the Netherlands/Argentina World Cup game, providing a helpful distraction to any toddler business.
They also have high chairs. Having Bear eat dinner sitting free range on my lap is a recipe for leaving dinner hungry with ruined pants.
We ordered the Cow & Pig: half a pound of brisket, half a pound of pulled pork, along with two sides. And then we ordered two more sides. Dave had a typical panic that we had not ordered enough food, but it was perfect. I know the brisket is supposed to be the standout dish, but I particularly liked the pulled pork, which was tender with a nice smattering of crispy bits, and delightful with the barbeque sauce.
While the meat is good,** I think Salvage shines most with the sides. As Kate pointed out, the mac and cheese is really, really excellent (“I want to swim in it, Scrooge McDuck-style,” which was sadly NOT the quote they decided to print on their menu) and I order it every time. We also picked up the aforementioned corn bread, cole slaw, and hush puppies. The hush puppies are fried cornmeal and jalapeño fritters with a sweet sauce. I made the mistake once of discouraging a group from ordering a large side of hush puppies, and everyone was nice about it, but vaguely unhappy that they didn’t get more hush puppies. They’re just the right amount of spicy. The cole slaw isn’t the glory that is the Eventide slaw (if there is any tangible personal gain to come from this blog, I would like it to be the Eventide slaw recipe. I would really, really like the recipe for that slaw), but it is nicely crunchy and well balanced and fantastic on the pulled pork sandwich. I believe the corn bread is very good, but honestly I had maybe two bites before Bear hoovered it up. He panicked at one point because even though his mouth was so full of cornbread he could barely keep it closed, he could see that there was more cornbread out of reach and made a high pitched whimper until he also had cornbread clutched in each hand.***
I do wish the side of cornbread was bigger, or that I remembered to order more.
Anyway, we had a really nice dinner, and I’m happy for this addition to the restaurant scene.
* I like Salvage, but the best new Portland restaurant of 2014 is Lolita, no question. Of course, Gilbert’s Chowder House won for Best Chowder which throws doubt on the whole enterprise.
** It’s Maine BBQ good. Which is good, and I enjoy it and am glad for it. But it’s not like, Texas BBQ good, or Georgia BBQ good.
*** Re-reading this, I’m struck by how much panic there is over getting enough food here. It’s not like we’re all on starvation diets. No one has been kept from food. There is always plenty to eat. I do not understand.
"I’m partial to good solid cooking. New England fare suits me fine, and diner food, too, if it’s done well. I also love Southern fare, classic French, Italian, Mediterranean, Latin and Asian."
"What’s new about the American dining scene is that we finally have a native cuisine."
"Instead, today it’s all about American bistro cooking. It’s a broad term, with regional differences, but it pretty much defines every new restaurant, other than ethnic, that strives to be the next American bistro wunderkind.”
"Added to the mix is ‘fusion,’ where the chef humorously or seriously fusses with elements of other cuisines. It can be very appealing."
Saw this the other week in South Portland. Heh.
For such a tiny city tucked way up in the far corner of the country, one good shake away from bouncing up over the border into Canada or off the edge into the ocean, Portland, Maine has a lot going for it. I realized that anew this weekend at the Portland Museum of Art.
It’s not a huge museum, and sometimes I don’t like their exhibits. For the most part, though, they have interesting shows that are regionally appropriate without being all lobsters-and-Wyeth. Contemporary art can be the Achilles’ heel of regional art museums, but the PMA does pretty well.
The fact that it’s a nice museum wasn’t really a surprise. The surprising thing was how easy it was to visit with a 9-month old. It’s really family-friendly, we had a lovely time.
We mostly just saw their Biennial: Piece Work exhibit. It’s a juried show with the goal of “explor[ing] one very strong, deep thread of contemporary practice that has relevance both regionally and nationally.” The artists either live in Maine for some portion of the year or their work is otherwise tied to the state. It is a statement to the show and probably some unpleasant personal prejudices of mine that it’s so, so much better and more interesting than I would ever expect from “Maine contemporary art.”
It’s hard for me to imagine an age when kids couldn’t get something from the exhibit, particularly with a bit of support. The first room, for instance, has a big, visually arresting landscape sculpture made from black paper. It’s beautiful and weird like some nightmarish rural British craft project or a particularly dark children’s book come to life. Bear and I spent some time looking at the grass and flowers. A few rooms later we ran across a sweater woven from love letters and a set of drawings based on the time it takes to travel from one place to another. You don’t have to have a background in art history to wonder about the coziness of that particular sweater, or what it might feel like to cut up love letters someone had sent you. The exhibit labels are clear and helpful in making sense of the works without being intrusive or overbearing.
When we decided to check out the McLellan house, a Federal-era mansion tacked on to the back of the Museum, we discovered a family space designed by one of the Piece Work artists. Bear was more into one of the small-scale chairs than the interactives, but he got to crawl around and burn off a bit of energy.
Beyond the exhibit spaces, the visitor services are really nice, and when you go someplace with a baby or small child, the visitor services can make or break your experience. The cafe is run by Aurora Provisions and has good food in a pretty lower-level dining space (with two high chairs). The coat check is free and easy to navigate. The gift shop is excellent (I bought a calendar and a wonderful board book for Bear). The staff were across-the-board helpful and welcoming. The only demerit is for the men’s room bathroom that doesn’t have a changing table (the women’s room has one), but I’m willing to overlook it.
If you haven’t been lately, it’s worth checking out.
The owners of Tandem Coffee Roasters just had a kid and updated their facebook page logo in this most adorable way.
I mean, shit, guys. A baby on a bike! Melts my heart.
Now I want a coffee.
Logo and photo from Tandem’s Facebook page.
It is 10:30 am, we have been awake for five hours (minus one one-hour nap for Bear), and my big plan to just have an iced tea has failed me in a monumental way.
So we go to Tandem Coffee Roasters to get my new favorite thing, a malt iced coffee, and give Dave some time to sit quietly and pretend like he didn’t wake up at 5:30 am.
This is what getting an iced coffee is like for me these days:
I carry Bear out to the car, along with the baby carrier and my purse and probably five other things and strap him in. We discover that both Sophie and Monkey are already in the car, which means it’s going to be a good ride.
We play Dolly Parton and Kenny Roger’s Islands in the Stream on repeat because that’s the way I roll when Dave isn’t there to keep things in line.
Tandem is in a weird quasi-industrial area and I’m never sure what the parking situation is, so I always feel like I’m leaving my car maybe in a parking spot and maybe just in the middle of someone’s property. I abandon my car next to Tandem in something that looks parking spot-ish. I take Bear out of his car seat, Monkey falls on the ground. I strap Bear in to the baby carrier. You haven’t lived until you’ve strapped a sweaty 20-pound baby to your chest in 85 degree heat with 90 percent humidity. I do a deep squat with the 20 pound baby to retrieve Monkey from the asphalt and head in to Tandem.
Tandem is a vision of warm industrial-minimalist design. It looks like it was designed expressly for the purpose of looking lovely in photos for one’s blog, and I would have taken a photo for my blog except that my phone camera has decided to give up the ghost after a whole two months of active duty. There’s exposed brick, plain white walls bisected by a thin wood counter, gleaming metal and glass equipment, studio stools, a collection of old records and a record player, a discrete stack of pastries or donuts under a glass cloche, and I want to say polished concrete floors but I can’t be sure. It’s a polished concrete floors kind of place. Happily, I wore my black and white tie-dye plaid muumuu tunic (yes) and Bear was in a black baby carrier so we fit in well.
Photo from Tandem’s website.
Bear spends his time as we wait for my coffee giving one of the other patrons a dead-eyed stare as the patron smiles and makes funny faces in an effort to be pleasant. Bear has none of it. Bear decides to chew the strap of the baby carrier.
I get my malt iced coffee, which is spectacular, and my Holy Donut chocolate sea salt donut, which is also spectacular, and have a minute of quietly enjoying life in a nicely air conditioned and attractive coffee shop with my giant baby strapped to me.
Bear tries to reach for my iced coffee and I think he’s trying to reach for the cup because he has enjoyed that in the past so I angle the bottom toward him so he can grab it. It becomes clear that he wants the top of the cup and out-maneuvers me to grab the paper straw and stuff it into his mouth. I’m going to pause here to discuss the paper straw. It is lovely and I can only imagine extraordinarily expensive and you can ALMOST forgive the way they melt and get gross in liquid (like, say, an iced coffee, or your mouth) because they are so photogenic. So Bear grabs that thing and shoves it into his mouth and the straw just gives up. Totally and completely. I unclench Bear’s fist and reveal a crumpled shadow of a straw.
This is why we can’t have nice things.
So I take my iced coffee, and my donut, and my crumpled straw and we get back in the car. I strap Bear in to his carseat. I hand him Monkey, which he proceeds to shove deep into his mouth. We drive home singing Islands in the Stream. We’re halfway home when I remember that Monkey fell on the ground. And then Bear starts fussing and we stop Islands and sing The Ants Go Marching til we get home.
(I first drafted this months ago, and then fell victim to the Great Baby Sickness of April 2013 and kind of forgot about it. Until my sister-in-law asked for the granola recipe. And then we all got the stomach flu. But here it is finally!)
I feel like other people are writing about things like nutella cupcakes and mango parfaits and cake pops with bacon and I’m constantly trying to sell you guys on things like ham hock soup and granola bars. Good thing I’m not trying to blog my way to fame and fortune. At the very least you can feel confident that this is a safe space free from tiny-cakes-in-twee-shapes.
So. Granola bars.
How long did I go to Standard Baking Co. before I bought one of their granola bars? Years. In fact, I did not buy that first granola bar, Dave did. And then my life changed. Put down the financiers, forget the brownies, granola bars man.
They are so good: dense and chewy, sweet without being overwhelming, rich, studded with nuts and seeds, and just a tiny bit chocolatey. They, like macarons and lebkuchen and oysters, are one of the foods that I always want more of. Which made my granola bar habit both inconvenient and sort of expensive.
Which led to the purchase of the Standard Baking Co. cookbook* for the sole purpose of making the granola bars, and then the making of the granola bars and then eating huge quantities of granola bars. They are gone now and I’m a little heartbroken.
Here’s the deal with the recipe. It’s not hard in terms of being complicated. It is hard in terms of sheer quantities of ingredients and physical muscle required. It would probably be leaps and bounds easier if you had an enormous KitchenAid mixer. As it was, I had to mix it in my stockpot because I had no mixing bowls big enough and my arm hurt a lot at the end of it.** That said, I’m not sure how easy it would be to halve the recipe since it fits into a rimmed baking sheet and you have to press it all down with a rolling pin, which would be hard in a smaller pan.
I also just noticed that they’re called “fruit and nut granola bars.” I think putting “fruit” in the title is a bit of a reach when the only fruit is dried cranberries. Let’s just be honest. They’re Nut Granola Bars.
Fruit and Nut Granola Bars
Posted with permission from the folks at Standard. Thank you! My notes are below in italics.
1. Melt the butter over low heat in a small saucepan (or very carefully in the microwave) and set it aside to cool (it should cool completely before using or it will melt the chocolate chips).
2. Preheat the oven to 375˚. Prepare a rimmed 13 x 18-inch baking sheet by lining it with parchment paper and spraying the sides with nonstick cooking spray. (I don’t have nonstick cooking spray so I think I just proceeded with the parchment.)
3. In a large bowl, combine the brown sugar, peanut butter, corn syrup, and vanilla.
4. In another large bowl (a super large bowl), combine the oats, chocolate, cranberries, sunflower seeds, pumpkin seeds, sesame seeds, and pecans.
5. Add half of the dry ingredients and half of the melted butter to the peanut butter mixture. Mix and knead with your hands to combine.
6. Add the remaining dry ingredients and the rest of the butter and mix until all of the ingredients are thoroughly incorporated.
7. Spread the mixture out onto the prepared baking sheet and press it down to fill the pan. Cover the mixture with another sheet of parchment paper and use a rolling pin to make sure it is pressed firmly to a uniform thickness. (Really press down as hard as you can.)
8. Bake for 10 to 11 minutes, rotating the pan halfway through the baking time. The edges will be a light golden brown. The mixture will look under-baked in the center, but will set up after cooling.
9. Transfer the pan to a wire rack and let it cool for several hours before cutting.
10. To cut, run a knife around the outside edge to loosen it from the pan over onto a cutting board. Using a very sharp knife, cut into any size you like. A ruler and a small paring knife work well to score the top of the granola into strips. Use a large sharp knife to cut straight down through the bars on the score marks.
* That’s an Amazon link, but if you live in Portland you should pick up the book at Standard (they’re on Commercial St. across from the ferry) or at Longfellow books.
** That’s probably good for me, frankly, given that the last time I worked out I was nine months pregnant, and I now have a 16+ pound baby. (He’s 20 pounds now.)
*** To toast the pumpkin seeds and pecans, spread them out onto a baking sheet and bake them at 350 for 5 - 10 minutes. Watch them really carefully to make sure they don’t burn (I made a batch of “smoky” granola bars because I wasn’t as careful as I should have been).
Surprising no one, I listen to a lot of public radio.
In my quest to be a responsible adult, I also donate to MPBN, because I listen to them and value the programming and it makes me feel good. When I donate, I get a member card, which sits on my kitchen counter in its envelope for a few months until I either recycle/throw away the whole shebang or I file it to away somewhere never to be seen again. I never actually looked at the member benefits until recently.
But guess what? There are really good member benefits! There’s a buy-one-get-one-free deal at Aurora Provisions* on Pine Street in downtown Portland for sandwiches (I keep meaning to write a post about Aurora Provisions and their sandwiches and brownies, which are both VERY VERY GOOD) and a similar deal for entrees at Local 188.
On the one hand, going into Aurora Provisions and getting a free sandwich using your public radio coupon is more or less the definition of nerdy yuppie things. On the other hand, free sandwiches!
I love their turkey/cranberry sandwich, and they often have a really good special panino with beef, and the marinated vegetables panino is also delicious. Their peanut butter brownies and their walnut brownies are just about the best you can find in Portland.** And the staff are very nice.
Moreover, tomorrow is the big MPBN member/fundraising drive, so it’s not a bad time to pony up some cash to support your public radio.
* As of writing this, their website is all janked. They’re at 64 Pine Street, Portland in the West End. I believe they open at 8 am. It’s next to Caiola’s. They have coffee, pre-made sandwiches (breakfast sandwiches in the morning, lunch sandwiches later on), lots of cookies and sweets, chocolates, prepared foods, wine, and other elegant and expensive foodstuffs. There’s some nice seating by the windows looking out onto the parking lot. It’s a pretty area, and you could always get sandwiches and walk to the Western Prom for a bit of a picnic.
** That’s right! GAUNTLET THROWN!
Lunch at Bresca
I want to apologize to Krista Kern Desjarlais and the good folks at Bresca for my crappy iPhone photo of their magnificent burger.
It’s the best burger I’ve had in a long, long time. It has bacon and cheddar cheese and mayo and mustard and ketchup and the juices run down your hand and it’s just really, really fantastic.
I mean, they have other great stuff. When I went last Friday with Kate, she got the Brussels sprout salad, which was better than a Brussels sprout salad has any business being, and a soup that I didn’t try because I was too laser-focused on my burger at that point but that looked wonderful. And then I went again Saturday and got the Bresca “Madame” sandwich, their version of the croque madame, which involved a perfectly cooked egg, gruyere, and speck. And then I got a chocolate Napoleon for desert (see also: living your best life). I know lunch is not a meal that generally involves desert, but I just felt that if you have an opportunity to eat one of Desjarlais’ deserts, you have an obligation to take advantage of that opportunity. I regret nothing.
If you haven’t been, the restaurant is pretty and tiny, with warm brown walls, a chalkboard menu, fresh flowers, and a huge butcher block counter. The dishes are in the range of $12 (desert was $10).
And you should go. It’s a pretty fantastic way to eat at one of Portland’s best restaurants for very little money. They’re open Weds - Sat from 11:30 am to 2:30 pm (as well as dinner on Friday and Saturday).
Which means you can be eating this burger as soon as tomorrow.*
* If you live in Portland.
After a weekend of snow, it’s really gorgeous outside.