Portland Maine is my city, 30 miles from home. I can’t say it’s the best small restaurant city in the world… San Sebastian Spain has a Michelin star every five feet. But it is the best small restaurant city in the U.S.
Dinner at Fore Street - This is an iconic restaurant, in a 100+ year old brick and wood landmark a block from the water, as attractive a large open space as you can imagine. It’s bustling, not quiet, with ambience warm as toast, impeccable service and consistently wonderful food. It has two ‘top fifty’ restaurant nods from Gourmet, James Beard best in the Northeast, plus chef-partner Sam Hayward’s ‘Sustainer of the Year’ award from the Chef’s Collaborative. If you drop through the floor, you are in their partner Standard Baking Company, one of the world’s great bakeries (friends from San Francisco buy sourdough to take home).
My companion started with local mixed organic green salad, galaxies away from ordinary and enhanced with their own local cider vinaigrette. I started with a winter-weight, earthy, soulful fettucine with local wild mushrooms.
My guest’s main was a stellar lamb ragout with sweet potato gnocchi topped with a soft-cooked duck egg. I had the classic spit-roasted half chicken with wilted greens and marinated and charred sourdough from downstairs. This dish has evolved gently over two decades but is always perfect… there is no tougher test for a kitchen than chicken, Fore Street passes Cum Laude.
Lunch at Central Provision, a fairly new, crowded, heralded but unassuming little place, also on Fore Street. Again, very beautiful old brick and old wood, barely 1/10th the size of Fore Street.
Our choices do not sound inspiring… could be on a diner menu anywhere, but whoa, Nelly!
We split an order of fries, perfectly cooked with Korean chili dusting and both homemade ketchup and homemade garlic aioli. Gives a serious run to Duck Fat, a few blocks away, intergalactically famous for their fries. Chop salad also doesn’t sound remarkable, but made with great local bacon, intensely piquant pickles and a ranch dressing straight outta Montana, it is. French Dip sounds even less likely, but with local home-cooked, hand-sliced beef, smack in your face horseradish and sharp-as-a-knife old pecorino it grabs you and won’t let go.
Piccolo is relatively new, in a tiny space (seats ~20, cheek by jowl), previously occupied by the great Bresca. Chef-owner Damian Simonetti was chef de cuisine at Bar Boulud; his partner Ilma Jeil Lopez did pastry at Cafe Boulud, and other places, two of which are named Le Bernardin and El Bulli. My first time here, expectations were sky high, and exceeded.
Five kinds of house-made salume (at Bar Boulud they say ‘charcuterie’) were wonderful, significantly spicy. They were overshadowed by local carrots with frisee and a very spicy sausage sauce, my Dish of the Weekend.
Mains: Cavatelli again (sigh)? With lamb neck ragu and little chunks of insanely old provolone invigorated with orange zest. A special was Orecchiette with braised short rib and celeriac. This was warming, earthy, the celeriac still retaining crunch and guts, Parmesan chips adding spice and freshness. Portland does winter-weight with amazing finesse.
Brunch will probably be at Becky’s Diner. It will be wonderful, but my Dish of the Weekend will probably not be overturned.
Portland is great 365, but in winter:
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Scallop season
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Winter weight has meaning, and
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NO TOURISTS!
Dan Kravitz