For the past seven years, Portland Fire Engine Company has held history and sightseeing tours from inside a vintage red fire engine. The tours are led by local guides and run for 50 minutes. The truck holds up to 13 people, allowing for an intimate ride past Portland’s lighthouses, historical buildings, and cobblestone streets. During the tour, a guide displays old photographs of Portland’s landmarks from the Maine Historical Society.

Washburn-Norlands Living History Center | Livermore

Maine’s oldest living history museum was once home to the Washburns, a prominent political family of the nineteenth century. Located on 445 acres of working farmland, the estate encompasses a Victorian-style mansion, a farmer’s cottage, a meetinghouse, and a one-room schoolhouse. Interpreters who work at the living museum dress in nineteenth-century clothing and encourage visitors to join them as they act out a typical farm day from the early 1800s.

Colonial Pemaquid State Historic Site | New Harbor

Located on the shores of the Pemaquid River, the Colonial Pemaquid State Historic Site includes Fort William Henry, a replica of a 1692 fort of the same name built in 1907 for Colonial Pemaquid’s 300^th anniversary. Visitors can explore the stone fort and climb to the top of its 29-foot bastion, which overlooks a burial ground from the early 1700s, a small village, and a memorial to the Angel Gabriel, a 240-ton ship that brought settlers to New England from England and was wrecked by a storm in 1635.

Olson House | Cushing

Off a dirt road in Cushing sits a nondescript colonial farmhouse that is the setting of several of Andrew Wyeth’s paintings, including his most famous, Christina’s World. The eighteenth-century home once belonged to Christina and Alvaro Olson and is now owned by the Farnsworth Museum and open to the public during the summer months for guided tours. While little furniture remains inside the home, visitors can walk through the weathered building and imagine what it was like when Wyeth was painting there many years ago.

Woodlawn Museum, Gardens + Park | Ellsworth

This Greek Revival home sits on a 180-acre estate built in 1824 by Colonel John Black. Inside the main brick house, also known as the Black House, are original furnishings and possessions, including portraits of three generations of the Black family, sleighs, china, and books. Visitors can tour the house, enjoy afternoon tea in the gardens, play croquet, or walk along the Woodlawn trails, which were first used to exercise the Black family’s horses.

Castle Tucker | Wiscasset

High on a hill in Wiscasset sits Castle Tucker, a Victorian-style a successful sea captain, is now a museum offering a look into Maine life during the turn of the twentieth century. Visitors can walk through the downstairs parlor to view an original rococo-revival furniture set, find an original Empire Crawford stove in the kitchen, and look out on the Sheepscot River and Wiscasset village through two-story-high windows on the upper floor.

Montpelier | Thomaston

General Henry Knox named his mansion after a city in France as a way to honor that country’s support during the Revolutionary War. Montpelier, which is part of the General Henry Knox Museum, is open for the public to explore. Its ten acres of colonial gardens and 19 rooms make up what was once the grandest residence in Thomaston. Docents of the mansion lead tours and teach guests about the life of General Knox and his family, who farmed on the property.

Schooner Lewis R. French | Camden

This nineteenth-century schooner, launched in Christmas Cove in 1871, is the oldest surviving two-masted schooner in the United States and the oldest Maine-built sailing vessel. Passengers looking to board the historic tall ship can choose from one- to six-night charter trips, where they stay in single or double cabins located in what used to be the cargo hold. The ship became a National Historic Landmark in 1992.

The post Historical Tours appeared first on The Maine Mag.

This is just what owner Harding Lee Smith hoped for when he opened the Corner Room in 2009. When the space became available on the corner of Exchange Street, just up the street from his Grill Room restaurant, Smith thought to himself, “What does Portland need?”. His vision was for an osteria, a place serving wine and simple food, a gathering spot where friends can share a snack or a meal. Diners could watch pasta being made and mozzarella being pulled by hand. It’s the type of spot you’d find in any village in Italy, a place near and dear to Smith. He spent a year cooking in Venice, and has travelled the country often, developing a deep appreciation for the cuisine and the skills to execute it.

Chef Wilson has been cooking at the Corner Room for three years, after spending several years at the Front Room. He’s picked up Smith’s passion for authentic Italian ingredients and techniques. Each day he develops specials using the house-made pasta, relying on what’s seasonal and what products are available at the market. “I like to find a vegetable first,” he says, “and base a dish around that.” Right now he’s excited about all the great local mushrooms. He uses four or five varieties of them in the pappardelle dish, a velvety bowl of chewy wide noodles, cream, Parmesan and those earthy forest mushrooms. It’s a rich, delightful taste of fall. Wilson will be adding more fall-like items to the menu as the months goes by, including a hearty boar ragu with root vegetables. Kale and pumpkin seed pesto is ready to replace summer’s basil pesto.

One item that always remains on the menu, the baked crespelle, is subtitled “the best thing you will ever eat”. It’s a thin crepe stuffed with tender braised beef, a little ricotta and herbs. The crepe is covered in “mama sauce”, the restaurant’s own full-flavored red sauce. Or add the Corner Room antipasti platter, a large wooden board overflowing with a variety of salumi, Italian cheeses (including the whipped ricotta, a personal favorite), tiny cubes of lightly pickled vegetables, olives and crostini. The two starters are perfect to share with a friend, along with a glass of red wine.

The Corner Room has been recognized by Wine Spectator magazine for the past three years with an Award of Excellence for its wine list, which includes bottles from a wide variety of regions in Italy, Alto-Adige and Lombardy in the north all the way to Puglia and Sicily in the far south. There’s great depth in both varietals and vintages. Wine director Erica Archer works to educate the staff on wine pairings and selections.

The contented crowd remains at the bar as happy hour blends into dinner time. They may stay for a while and perhaps order a pizza to share. Or ask for a table and settle in for a full meal. There’s seems to be no hurry to move on from this warm, mellow spot.

The Corner Room | 110 Exchange St. | Portland | 207.879.4747 | thecornerroomkitchenandbar.com

The post The Corner Room appeared first on The Maine Mag.

It doesn’t take a lot of ingredients to make a dish with staying power. The clams in white sauce with linguine at Street and Co. has been on their menu since the restaurant opened 26 years ago. As I twirl yet another forkful of strands and scoop up one more plump clam, it’s easy to understand why this this dish, and Street and Co., has maintained its popularity. It’s an alchemical magic that takes place in their beat-up sauté pans, brought to the table steaming hot and fragrant.

Today I’m lucky enough to share this pan with Dana Street, the owner of Street and Co. as well as co-owner of Fore Street and the soon-to-opened Scales on Maine Wharf. We hadn’t met before, but when two hungry people who love food get together, the conversation is easy.

He tells me the story of another favorite dish, sole française. Originally it was called sole meuniére, after the classic French preparation, finished with brown butter, parsley and lemon. Then one fine day, Julia Child came to dine at Street and Co. If you’re familiar at all with Julia Child’s story, you likely know that it was a dish of sole meuniére, tasted in Rouen, France that sparked her culinary journey. Since Street and Co.’s preparation was not a traditional meuniére, Dana Street quickly changed the name to sole française so that Child would not be mislead. We share this dish as well, and like the linguine, it’s simple and more than the sum of its few ingredients. A sole filet is dipped in flour and an egg wash, then seared in one of those well-loved skillets. The potatoes served alongside soak up some of the nutty brown butter that finishes the dish. Call it whatever you like. It’s simply delicious, and I’m pretty sure Julia Child would agree.

Street himself doesn’t cook much. King Bishop is the chef who runs the small, open kitchen at Street and Co. Bishop started making salads here ten years ago and has worked his way up to the top job. He’s a big fan of the restaurant’s signature dishes, but he’s putting his own stamp on many of the sides and specials. He’s figured out a way to added depth to the marina sauce by adding lobster shells while it simmers. Salads and vegetables are constantly evolving as Bishop experiments with seasonal ingredients and techniques. Produce comes from local farms and while we are there, two big boxes of pristine shiitake mushrooms are delivered.

On a busy night, the kitchen puts out over 300 plates to diners enjoying their food in a room full of rustic charm. Dried chili peppers and bulbs of garlic hang from wooden beams. There’s lots of exposed brick and wide-planked old pine floors. Tabletops are covered in copper so that those hot sauté pans can be set directly upon them. The bar showcases fresh oysters and offers comfortable seating for sipping a glass of Italian or French wine from the extensive list and perhaps enjoying a bite from the appealing “Tastes” menu.

Early Saturday mornings, King Bishop grabs a cup of coffee and heads down Commercial Street to Upstream Trucking, a wholesale fish seller, owned by Street and a partner. There he has

his choice of the freshest seafood available from Maine and the east coast, helping him develop the day’s specials and assure diners have the very best product. It’s this commitment to excellence that’s likely to keep Street and Co. going strong for another 26 years.

Street and Co. | 33 Wharf St. | Portland | 207.775.0887 | streetandcompany.net

The post Street and Co. appeared first on The Maine Mag.

Picture this: from a trail along the ocean, you look inland and see buildings that rise gradually in height like stairs. Old brick warehouses, converted into modern lofts and storefronts, sit easily alongside playful examples of contemporary architecture. Narrow streets wind between the beguiling blend of old-meets-new. Cars cruise slowly alongside bikers and pedestrians, and a smattering of trees lends leafy green shade to the afternoon. Music pours from the open window of a coffee shop and commuters stop on their way home from work to listen. As you walk away from the water, the city rises with you, leading you rapidly to the top of the hill. Turn back and gaze down. Blue water stretches out, dotted with green islands and the graceful white forms of sailboats.

This scene could be from a European novel, a story set on the shores of the Mediterranean. It could be a pipe dream, an idealized urban landscape that will never quite exist. Or it could be Portland.

•••

Casey Prentice, one of the would-be builders of this vision, sits behind a conference table at the CPB2 office on the Portland waterfront. He flips through slide after slide of maps, state permits, and construction plans, speaking quickly and confidently, pausing rarely to laugh or make a casual aside. He has an audience of one, but the 29-year-old developer informs me that he’s given this presentation many times before—he’s talked to state officials, to potential investors, to historical preservation groups, and to environmentalists. “It’s been an extremely complicated deal,” he admits. “I was just young and naïve enough to try it. Other developers would have walked away long ago.” Not Prentice. Since 2009, he’s had his sights fixed on 58 Fore Street. Despite his considerable accomplishments—Prentice is the founder and president of the Prentice Organization, which, along with his family, owns and operates Chebeague Island Inn, Five Guys Burgers and Fries, Evo, and other Portland properties—he’s retained enough youthful optimism to keep working toward this “extremely challenging” piece of land. 58 Fore Street is his moonshot, his white whale.

The property in question is a 10.5-acre parcel of land located on the northern edge of the Old Port, directly southeast of Munjoy Hill. Right now, it is remarkable only in its decrepitude. Overgrown with weeds, it’s accessible via the Eastern Promenade Trail and the Narrow Gauge Railroad. Unless you’ve walked along the water from the Old Port to the Eastern Promenade, you might not have had a reason to visit this narrow, undeveloped strip of Portland. And if Phineas Sprague Jr. had held onto his inherited land, you probably wouldn’t be reading this right now, much less considering the possibility of an entirely new urban neighborhood blossoming on the corner of the peninsula.

This alternative future very nearly came to pass. “Phineas Sprague had some very specific thoughts about what would happen to the property. He talked to a lot of prospective buyers, but he didn’t feel comfortable with them,” says Tony McDonald of the Boulos Company. McDonald first started working with Sprague back in 2008, but it wasn’t until 2012 that Sprague finally decided to sell 58 Fore Street to CPB2 for an undisclosed amount. The deal took so long partially because it was so complex. Not only did Sprague require his potential buyers to find him a place on the peninsula where he could relocate his boatyard—a stipulation that led Prentice and his group to purchase, and sell again, a 26-acre parcel on the western Portland waterfront—he also wanted a say in what came next. “The land had been in his family for a very, very long time, and he considered himself the steward of the property,” explains McDonald. “He wanted to see a world-class project built there that would be a tribute to the City of Portland. He wanted to see something his grandkids and great-grandkids would be proud of.” Big hulking condo buildings and aboveground parking garages wouldn’t cut it. That wasn’t the legacy Sprague wanted for his name; it wasn’t the dream he had for his Portland.

Fortunately, Prentice had a leg up on the other bidders. He had been talking to Sprague since 2009, laying the groundwork for the deal, and in the process, building a lasting friendship with the seasoned boatman and lifelong Mainer. While other developers were pitching plans for condo units, Prentice came to the table with another idea. “I realized that other developers were looking at the property the wrong way,” he says. “The challenges of the site are so extreme that it called for a creative solution. The hillside is an 88- foot sheer drop. So how do you make that part of the city? How do you connect it to Munjoy Hill and make this one continuous cityscape? Who builds like that?” The answers, he decided, could be found by looking across the Atlantic, particularly at the Italian coastline community of Cinque Terre.

Inspired by old European settlements that build with the curve of the land rather than on top of it, Prentice and his group drafted up a plan that would turn the 58 Fore Street property into an entirely new neighborhood, complete with alleyways, mixed-use streets, small plazas, and urban parks. “The phrase I kept coming back to during my talks with Phin was ‘world class.’ He wanted something spectacular and I want to make something spectacular. I want to create a district that is popular enough and beautiful enough that it becomes an economic driver for the city,” he says. “Other developers simply saw this as a condo project, and because of that, they couldn’t justify the price.” Instead of building single-use structures, Prentice wanted to see restaurants and shop fronts, boutiques, and national retailers. He wanted to bring in coffee shops and art galleries—all the things that make a neighborhood unique. His plan includes high-end housing, and it also includes retail and office space, pedestrian-only brick streets, and a meticulously preserved “historic core.”

This out-of-the-box thinking not only impressed Sprague, it also attracted investors. Prentice recalls taking potential investors to Middle Street and spreading his arms wide. “Ten years ago, if you could buy all this, would you?” he asked them. They always answered yes.

However, building a new neighborhood isn’t as simple as buying some land and throwing down bricks. There were many more hoops to jump through before CPB2 could break ground, and there was one particularly pressing issue: the land wasn’t zoned for mixed commercial and residential use. In 2000, the city had started the process of rezoning Sprague’s property as part of the Eastern Waterfront Master Plan, which detailed the City of Portland’s vision for construction and investment in the area. (“The Master Plan envisions new development in the area to be an amenity and an asset to neighborhood residents, the greater city, and the visiting public… An integrated Master Plan allows the City to support the working waterfront, promote economic development, and enhance and protect our residential neighborhoods,” reads the preamble from the 40-page document). At the time, 58 Fore Street had a special designation found nowhere else in the city of Portland: “waterfront special use zone.” At first, Sprague was fine with the idea of rezoning his property, until he realized that changing its zoning would raise the value, and thus dramatically effect his taxes. In 2004 (and again in 2006—the city tried to rezone the area twice) he asked to keep his special designation, which he humorously dubbed the “waterfront Sprague useless zone” since it ensured that this property could continue to operate as a boatyard (but wouldn’t allow much else).

“In 2012, we went to the City and told them that we were ready to have them finish what they started,” explains Prentice. At this point, the team at CPB2 had solidified, with Prentice, Jim Brady, and Kevin Costello acting as co-managers. They wanted the City of Portland to finish the rezoning process, which would enable them to turn 58 Fore Street into a bustling city neighborhood. They were told the rezoning process would take about four months. It took over a year, but in the end, the rezoning amendment received a unanimous recommendation from the city planning board, and a seven-to-two vote in favor from the City Council. As of June 2015 it appeared that everything was finally in order. Sprague was happy, the City of Portland had approved, and CPB2 had the early drafts of a plan that, he believed, would turn the property into an attraction on par with the Old Port or the Arts District. And yet, another roadblock soon arose, one that could still stop CPB2 from moving forward entirely. “I would have never envisioned that there would have been any opposed to fulfilling the Eastern Waterfront Master Plan,” says Brady when asked about the Soul of Portland, a group that has banded together to stop the development of this particular corner of Portland through a referendum. “It was very well received when the plan was done. We saw this as a very easy, no-opposition thing to do. We thought we were doing exactly what the city wanted to have done with the eastern waterfront. I’ve been surprised that certain folks don’t agree with that vision.”

His mild words don’t quite express the frustration that the partners of CPB2 are feeling at this point. For the past two years, he has been negotiating with a number of different interest groups to get his plan for this site approved. He has consulted with historic preservation groups, urban planners, architects, Portland Trails, and Greater Portland Landmarks. Now, a single city vote could undo all that hard work.

The November referendum put forth by the Soul of Portland will establish a new “scenic zone” law that would prohibit landowners from building above a certain height in designated areas, which would be identified by a “Scenic Viewpoint Task Force.” The language of the document is disturbingly broad, defining a scenic viewpoint as a “discrete place or area from which the public may see a significant number of scenic resources within a scenic area of regional, state or national significance.” It would also give the City the right to enter onto private property to trim any vegetation that the Task Force deems overgrown, obscuring public views. In addition, Prentice points out that, if this law had been passed years ago, many of Portland’s most iconic structures never would have been built.

“I think the referendum is a tragedy,” says McDonald. The restrictions put in place for the proposed scenic zones would dramatically limit the options of any developer looking to build in downtown Portland—including, but not limited to, CPB2. Because several of the founding members of the Soul of Portland are Munjoy Hill residents with homes overlooking the property, the opposition to 58 Fore Street is subject to charges of NIMBY-ism (that is, their motivating sentiment is understood to be “not in my backyard”). For them, it’s their view that’s in danger. These homeowners could lose sight of the water. But the development’s advocates argue that, in opposing the growth of Portland, they’re really losing sight of the big picture.

“This referendum is a symptom of what is wrong with the system. You can get a group of people together with no experience and sign a petition and all the sudden you have a referendum in front of you that entirely undermines years and years of work done by qualified professionals, planners, architects, civil servants, with so much public interest,” says McDonald. “It’s scaring people away from wanting to do business in Portland and it has got to change.”

•••

It should be clear by this point that I support the development of 58 Fore Street. I live in Portland and I want to see the city grow; I want to see housing prices go down on the peninsula, not skyrocket like they have in other highly desirable places to live. By building housing, CPB2 could help even out the cost of rent for many Portlanders. “I’m a big believer in the laws of economics and supply and demand,” says Brady. “One of the reasons that housing has become so expensive in the city of Portland is that the demand is outpacing supply. If you add more housing, all housing will lower in cost.” According to Brady and Prentice, CPB2 plans to build a diverse range of units. These condos and apartments should appeal to a wide swath of people, from small-living supporters and young, single professionals to retirees seeking to downsize and simplify. Although it is too early to tell exactly what will happen with 58 Fore Street, Prentice makes it clear during our conversation that he wants to see it become a “diverse, vibrant, beautiful” place to live. To him, “world class” isn’t an exclusionary phrase, but rather a way of articulating his high hopes for the property.

The idea that one small group of people could stop the city from growing in new, innovative ways seems wrong—and I’m not the only one who sees it this way. “It shouldn’t be so hard to do the right thing,” says Brady. “I never would have expected that people wouldn’t see this as the right thing.”

Prentice echoes these statements. For him, this project is the chance of a lifetime. It’s a massive commitment of time and energy (so far, it’s dominated the better part of his twenties, and should the plan go forward, it will take at least another decade to secure tenants, finalize building plans, and finish construction). He views 58 Fore Street as a way to create a lasting legacy, as do all the players at CPB2. But even now, as he waits for the vote that could decide everything, as he faces this unexpected hitch in his carefully laid plans, he claims he wouldn’t do anything differently.

“If we were a developer who wanted to make a quick profit, maybe we should have gone in asking to build 20 stories high, something that would terrify the neighborhood, and then we could settle in the middle,” he says, reflecting on the long road that brought him here. “But instead,we went to the city with what we really thought was best. We’ve already made all the concessions we could. From a business perspective, did we do the right thing? I don’t know. But from a moral perspective, I know we did.”

The post A City on the Edge appeared first on The Maine Mag.

The dining room feels like Italy—sunlight pours in from large windows, pale yellow walls are the color of a Tuscan afternoon, and I take a seat at one of the light wooden tables. Above hanging lights made from stainless colanders add a whimsical touch. It’s a warm, simple room, which turns out to be just right for the uncomplicated food.

I start with the caprese salad of mozzarella, juicy tomatoes, basil, and a dash of fresh ground pepper and salt. The bruschetta, merely toast and tomatoes, needs nothing else. “We want you to experience what is important to us,” de Savino tells me, “Fresh, simple ingredients, so one does not overwhelm any other.”

The couple tells me their strategy is to concentrate on doing one thing absolutely right. Paciarino’s thing is their pasta that is handmade daily. I discover this in a dish of fusilli with pesto. Sometimes the flavors of garlic can outmuscle everything else in pesto, but here the basil shines. Barbiero only uses basil from Olivia’s Garden in New Gloucester because of its clean flavor. If it’s not available, there simply will be no pesto on the menu that day, which isn’t an issue as any of the other pasta choices are made with the same straightforward formula of the freshest and fewest ingredients cooked simply. The lasagna, contrary to some ricotta-thick versions, is light and made with the traditional béchamel sauce layered with Bolognese and freshly ground Parmesan. In the oven, every layer melts together, creating a luscious dish that’s a customer favorite. Raviolis at Paciarino come in many varieties from ricotta and spinach to goat cheese to porcini. Be on the look out for zucca, the pumpkin ravioli served seasonally. Paciarino has also created gluten-free pasta, which tastes so much like the traditional type, I was hard pressed to tell the difference. It is served with pomodoro sauce, sweet tomatoes cooked down with extra-virgin olive oil and basil.

de Savino talks excitedly about what’s next for the restaurant. They’ll soon be hosting wine tastings and dinners with wine pairings. The food will be off-menu dishes, prepared especially to complement the wine selections. She is a Level One sommelier, eager to teach guests about various Italian wine regions. She will also be introducing more desserts in the next few months, all made in-house, “with the emphasis on chocolate,” she says, smiling.

All the pasta and most of the sauces made at Paciarino are also available for purchase. Soon they will start to carry a selection of Italian grocery items as well. And if you’re not local, these products will all be available for shipping.

Paciarino is the real deal. Simple Italian cooking your nonna would make. If you don’t have an Italian grandmother, that’s okay—you have Paciarino.

Paciarino | 470 Fore Street | Portland | 207-774-3500 | paciarino.com

The post Paciarino appeared first on The Maine Mag.

Maine culture is defined by such rock-solid values as thrift, practicality, resourcefulness, hard work, and individualism, sometimes bordering on eccentricity. A sampling of Maine culture is on full display, and available for a dose of retail therapy, at any one of 16 Renys stores located from Damariscotta to Dexter, from Bath to Bridgton, and from Portland to Pittsfield.

What you won’t find, however, from one Renys store to the next, or from one visit to the next, is what you might have found on your last visit. Not only is every Renys store different from all others, but that great deal you might have found on a national name brand close-out last week has been replaced by another deal. Such a deal!

In the words of the store’s advertising slogan, Renys is “a Maine adventure.” One of Renys adventures occurs every November when the company stages its Early Bird Sale and customers line up at stores all over Maine, some as early as 5 a.m., looking for a great deal, or to do most of their Christmas shopping for the season.

As background for this story, I dropped by Renys in downtown Camden a few weeks ago with my retail therapist—and wife—to get an expert’s orientation to the merchandise. We were not there to buy anything, but came out with a large bucket, rubber slip-on spiked cleats for navigating icy walkways, a roll of Stretch-Tite plastic wrap, a lint roller, a Pez dispenser for an Easter basket, a pair of water shoes for wading in the rocky intertidal, and a package of votive candles for the evening dinner table. I felt lucky that Woolrich vests, for which I have a particular weakness, had given way to more seasonal apparel or it could have been worse than the $22.09 cash register total.

Robert H. Reny, known to all as R.H., founded his eponymous store in Damariscotta in 1949. According to his oldest son, John Reny, who took over from his father in 2004, R.H. entered the Navy after graduating from Dartmouth College and was halfway across the Pacific when World War II ended. When he returned, he went to work at a department store in Boston and after a few years migrated north to work for Senter’s Department Store in Damariscotta. R.H. rented a room from the local store manager. After his first year at Senter’s, R.H. asked the manager for a raise. His boss gave him the raise, and then raised his rent by the same amount. “That’s when R.H. decided to go into business himself,” says John. There was a vacant A&P across the street. With a GI loan and personal funds scraped together, Renys first store opened in October 1949.

R.H. had successful fall and Christmas seasons, but come January, “sales slowed down incredibly,” says John. “Most Renys customers were fishermen from places like Round Pond and Bristol, and since they were not working, they weren’t buying either.” So R.H. loaded up merchandise in his capacious Hudson car and began driving up and down the peninsula. “He didn’t sell a lot,” says John, “but he drank a lot of coffee and ate a lot of pie.” The following spring people remembered that he had stopped by to see them in the middle of the winter and came into the store. “Of course, R.H. had the gift of the gab,” John recalled. “He could talk to anyone, he was like the town crier, he knew who had been born and who had died and what was happening in town.”

Bit by bit business began to improve, and R.H. wanted to expand. He opened his second store in Bridgton. Why Bridgton, I asked? “I don’t know, but it was a hell of a good idea,” says John. “That’s been a great store.” R.H. would finish work in Damariscotta at the end of the afternoon, drive three hours—“It was three hours back then”—and work until late at night, fall asleep in a room he rented from a fellow who ran a sign-painting business, and then drive back to open the Damariscotta store the next morning. R.H. told the sign painter that he could teach him everything he needed to know about retail in three weeks. His landlord became his new store manager in Bridgton and stayed at it for the next 28 years.

Other Renys stores followed in Gardiner and Farmington. But when discount stores like Ames and Rich’s began arriving in Maine and setting up operations in strip malls at the edges of towns in the 1980s, they had an immediate impact on Renys business. “Business dropped 20 percent by the week at first,” John recalls, “but it also opened up new possibilities. For one thing, property values on main streets all over the state began declining, and we began acquiring new sites for our stores.”

A few years later, the arrival of Walmart stores presented another challenge. “They were like us, only much bigger,” says John. “We knew we had to have better quality goods because you cannot out-cheap cheap, and we wouldn’t want to.” John notes that Grant’s and Rich’s and other discount retailers trying to beat Walmart at its own game are now long gone.

Renys had always carried quality work clothes, such as Carhartt overalls for both men and women, barn pants, jeans, sweatshirts, caps, shirts, and Chippewa boots for all manner of outdoor work. In addition to these lines, Renys began carrying more upscale brands. I recall being taken aback when my wife first bought me a pair of SmartWool socks from Renys for a hefty $10.99 a pair. But I admitted to John that those socks changed my life, or at least my winters. Whereupon John swept his foot up onto the desk to show me “something better”—FITS socks with cushioning in the heel and toe.

John Reny had started working for his father in 1957, sweeping floors at 25 cents an hour in the company warehouse on the outskirts of Damariscotta, which he described as “two Quonset huts.” Later R.H. bought an abandoned school building, but Reny’s outgrew that approximately ten years ago and moved out to its current spacious warehouse and office space, a 90,000-square-foot distribution center on Route 1 in Newcastle. R.H. had acquired that land because at one point he thought of opening up a small strip mall there. But John says that his father knew that his store in Damariscotta “brought a ton of people into town and helped the town stay as good as it is.” So R.H. kept the company focused on maintaining his businesses in downtowns long before many others had adopted a similar strategy.

And R.H. kept enticing family members into the business. John’s younger brother, Bob, and Bob’s wife, Mary Kate, have all been part of the tightly integrated management of Renys for decades. When Bob joined our discussion, the brothers described their buying strategy. Bob pointed out that Renys carries top-of-the-line Asics running shoes, but they are last year’s models. “Most people don’t really care if they are a year behind,” says Bob. For a discount retailer, taking advantage of name-brand manufacturers’ close-outs is key. “If someone has a sweet deal, who is the first guy you are going to call?” asks John. “Because whoever gets the call will probably take the deal. So we try to be the first call. Sometimes we take a little nibble, while a big discounter takes the rest and everyone is happy. We’ve been doing this for 65 years. It’s all about relationships.”

When my retail therapist had walked me through Renys Camden store to orient me to the endless commercial attractions, I was surprised by the space devoted to specialty foods, including a great number of Maine food products. I was tempted by Bar Harbor Foods’s all-natural hardwood-smoked Atlantic mackerel, appreciative of the display of Look’s Gourmet Food Company’s lobster bisque from Whiting, delighted by Mother’s Mountain kitchen jams from Falmouth, surprised by Hick Lickin’ Good Maine apricot-ginger teriyaki sauce from Windham, glad to see Maine Maple candies from Madison, and overcome by the selection of 30 varieties of Raye’s Mustard from Eastport, including the delicious maple horseradish.

John says the decision to devote space to food products was simple: “People like food. They eat it and buy more.” He also says, “People know prices. We carry extra virgin olive oil at $3.99 for a 17-ounce bottle. We see people loading up and then heading to the grocery store.” The reason that Renys can compete with much larger grocery stores is also simple. “We buy from manufacturers,” he says. “You would be surprised how many grocery stores buy from distributors who mark it up and send it to shippers or warehouses who add 30 percent before a grocery buys it and marks it up again.”

Unlike Walmarts, all Renys stores are different. Bob mentions that sometimes customers from a different town walk in and say, “I didn’t know this was a Renys.” Part of the stores’ success, he says, is that they never advertise phony sales, where an item is marked up and then marked down to look like a deal. In fact, apart from the Early Bird Sale, Renys doesn’t do sales at all. “We don’t plan sales—we don’t have time.” With 80-120 pallets coming into the warehouse every day, Bob says they are too busy trying to get the merchandise into stores. This retail philosophy harks back to one of R.H.’s guiding principles emblazoned on the wall of the office: “If you buy something right, sell it right. Don’t try to make an extra buck off it.”

John, who is 63, and Bob, now semi-retired, are currently focused on training the third generation to manage the complexities of their expansive family enterprise. R.H.’s children and grandchildren have all worked for the family business, most of them from the age they could hold a broom or reach a shelf in a stockroom. John’s daughter, Faustine, 32, is also a mother raising a member of the fourth generation Renys. She earned her master’s degree in accounting before coming to work full-time for the company in 2009. “If you understand the numbers,” she says about the retail business, “you can get the rest.” Faustine recalls that when her sister could not find a shower curtain in Portland and had to drive all the way out to the mall, John and Bob were convinced to make the leap into downtown Portland in 2011. Renys took over space that L.L.Bean had vacated.

Bob’s son, Adam, 33, graduated from the Berklee College of Music in Boston and became a music producer. But he grew tired of the music scene and getting home in the wee hours of the morning. When the longtime manager of the Renys Camden store retired, Adam was deployed to get some on-the-job training. “I learned more in those three months than I could have any other way. You find out how things are really working on the floor.”

The next generation of Renys will someday be responsible for an operation that now comprises over 500 employees. But the Renys have a philosophy about employees, just as they do in all parts of their business. “We allow our stores more associates than other stores,” says John. “You can add to the bottom line by cutting payroll. Instead we spend money on people. We hire people who love people. Our employees have been with us for over ten years on average. They know everyone who walks in the store and usually what they want.”

Faustine, understanding how competitive the retail environment is and how many choices consumers have, added, “For customers, we are only as good as the last conversation with an employee.” As Faustine and Adam speak to me about the challenges facing them, John and Bob fall into an animated private discussion about some bit of unfinished business. “They’re like yin and yang,” Faustine explains, “Half the time they don’t even have to talk, they know what the other is thinking.” Maintaining a family business through three generations is a great challenge for any enterprise, but in Maine where family roots run deep, there are plenty of examples of family enterprises that continue to flourish. And may it be so for future generations.

The post "If You Buy Something Right, Sell it Right." appeared first on The Maine Mag.

Around the same time, on the other side of town, local artists and graduates of Maine College of Art were installing SWARM—a permanent two-story installation on the wall flanking the staircase leading from the lobby to the gallery of Portland’s new boutique Press Hotel. A few miles out to sea on Great Diamond Island in Casco Bay, designers and contractors were overseeing finishing touches on the Inn at Diamond Cove—a luxury resort transformed from old soldiers’ barracks at Fort McKinley.

Those of us who live in Portland are becoming familiar with the sounds of saws and hammers, the screeches and beeps of big equipment backing up. The putting up of signs, the opening of doors, the rolling of suitcases along sidewalks. As Portland becomes a more popular destination, all kinds (literally all kinds) of structures are being repurposed to creatively house visitors to our little city. And this isn’t only happening in Portland; up and down the coast, developers are making the most of Maine’s growing tourism industry. According to the Maine Hospitality and Tourism Alliance, in 2013 7.5 billion dollars in total tourist sales translated to 471 million tax dollars. The hospitality and tourism industry supported 88,585 jobs.

While such statistics are certainly of interest to the makers and managers of hotels, inns, and bed and breakfasts, day to day, these numbers boil down to a set of concerns that are far more qualitative. From bed linens to paint colors to hiring and training staff, these people know that a guest’s experience is the result of hundreds of small decisions and that the sum of these small decisions can make or break a new business. As small cities and towns along the coast become better known for their food and art scenes, hoteliers are taking special care to create spaces that reflect this cultural shift, while providing a relaxing stay experience for people who are looking to enjoy the natural beauty and off-the-beaten- path appeal of Maine. The number of visitors to Maine is on the rise, and so are people’s expectations. As Kennebunkport developer Tim Harrington puts it, “People travel for design now.”

At the Danforth, a 12,000-square-foot historic inn with nine guest rooms, co- owner Raymond Brunyanszki showcases a more modern design sense than you typically find in Maine. Not unlike his other Maine property, the Camden Harbour Inn, this newly renovated inn is a kind of homage to Brunyanszki’s experiences working and traveling abroad. When the Netherlands native first walked through the Danforth he was reminded of the Victorian-era architecture of Indonesia, and this reference served as inspiration for what would become Tempo Dulu, a Southeast Asian fine dining restaurant on the inn’s first floor. A perfectly serene seat at the Danforth Brunyanszki chose to highlight the property’s period details by painting the interior white and juxtaposing classic architecture with contemporary Italian and Dutch designer furniture and one-of- a-kind fixtures.

Perhaps the best example of his fastidious approach to hospitality is in the restaurant’s computerized lighting system, which is divided into six sections that are set to dim and brighten in relation to natural light patterns. “I wanted each table to feel like its own intimate island of light,” says Brunyanszki. This is precisely the kind of subtle detail that contributes significantly to the overall ambience of a boutique inn like the Danforth and might go unnoticed by the average traveler. But Brunyanszki does not necessarily expect the Danforth to attract the average traveler. His approach to hospitality is not so much about meeting expectations but exceeding them on his own terms, thereby establishing a whole new standard.

While a small boutique inn is inherently different than a hotel with 110 guest rooms, Michael Strejcek, manager of the Press Hotel, would agree that travelers are eschewing generic hotels in favor of places with distinct personality, that feel of a time and place. “The focus is on being unique,” he says. “Travelers want to be able to say something about the properties they stay in.”

There is plenty to say about the Press Hotel, which is located in the building that housed the Portland Press Herald— Maine’s largest newspaper—from 1923 until 2010. “We’re lucky that we don’t have to invent a history for this property. It’s already here,” says Strejcek. “It’s up to us to make the most of it.”

Developer Jim Brady and his team honored this history at every step of the building and design process, working closely with Portland’s Historic Preservation Board to achieve a newspaper-inspired look. References to the Portland Press Herald are all over the place, in the letterpress- inspired piece behind the front desk by local artist Matt Hutton, in the vintage- styled journalist desks in the guestrooms, and in the incorporation of books and antique typewriters in the decor. The Press Hotel showcases local art at every opportunity, hanging bold works by Annie Darling, Dietlind Vander Schaaf, and other local artists in the ground-floor gallery and throughout the hallways and guestrooms.

Situated on upper Exchange Street, surrounded by office buildings and landmarks like City Hall, this part of Portland has a different feel than the commercially oriented Old Port. Proud of its downtown location, the Press Hotel has been made with Portlanders in mind. The Inkwell Bar and Union Restaurant, headed by executive chef Josh Berry, are already becoming popular with locals. The hotel even initiated the creation of a public performance and art space on Federal Street, between Exchange Street and Market Street, to be put to use during events like First Friday.

The opening of so many new hotels in Portland has led to some healthy competition. Aaron Black, the general manager of the Inn at Diamond Cove, says that leading up to the summer months every hotel in town was “working hard to assemble the right staff,” which can be particularly challenging for seasonal resorts. A 20-minute ferry ride from Commercial Street, the Inn at Diamond Cove, a former military fort, has been converted into a resort with 44 deluxe guest rooms and suites offering couples and families a vacation experience within Portland city limits. “With very few cars on the island and all of the pebble beaches, it’s just a wonderfully quiet, very coastal experience,” says Black. Coastal, quiet: these are qualities designer Kim Deetjen played up in a “Maine seaside cottage” look that “integrates modern sensibilities while retaining key historic elements.” The sensible brick structure, striped with bright white columns, is freshened up with bold touches of color on the interior.

While the hospitality boom is especially evident in Portland’s dense downtown, hotels and inns are being spruced up all over the state—like the Norumbega Inn in Camden. When Sue Walser and Phil Crispo bought the extraordinary property in March of 2013, it had been vacant for almost two years. “There were a lot of Band-Aids to rip off,” says Walser. “What repairs had been done recently hadn’t been done well.” Thankfully, the Queen Anne-style home had good bones and a lot of character for Walser and Crispo to bring out in their redesign. Freshened up with light accent colors, period-appropriate antiques, and personal items—like Walser’s great- grandmother’s music box and a painting of irises that had hung in her Manhattan apartment before finding a home in the inn’s dining room—Walser and Crispo have brought the Norumbega back to life while at the same time creating new lives for themselves in Camden.

Crispo is an experienced chef who comes to Maine by way of Scotland, where he grew up, and the Hudson River Valley, where he was a chef instructor at the Culinary Institute of America. Walser’s background is in business and finance. While they had not worked as innkeepers prior to opening the Norumbega, their combined backgrounds work as an advantage. “We wanted to pick out things that we actually liked, not what we’re preconditioned to like,” Walser tells me. “It doesn’t matter what label it is, if it doesn’t feel like quality it doesn’t matter what it says.” This is the kind of individualistic, non-formulaic approach to design and hospitality that is changing the industry. In Walser and Crispo’s case, when you add all of those decisions up, the result is a homey but elegant addition to the stay options in perennially popular Camden.

Kennebunkport is another town that draws thousands of visitors every year, and has grown to accommodate the uptick in tourism. When Tim Harrington and Deb Lennon decided to renovate the historic Kennebunkport Inn a few years ago, they enlisted the help of local designer Louise Hurlbutt of Hurlbutt Designs.

Ralph Lauren was an inspiration for the inn’s new look, and that is evident in the clean white and deep navies on the walls, brought down to earth with touches of dark brown and gray. They also drew inspiration from Kennebunkport’s history as a shipbuilding town, lining the shelves and fireplace mantels with Asian artifacts, particularly blue and white porcelain, which sailors brought home to coastal communities like Kennebunkport from Japan. Hurlbutt references this history in Asian-inspired fabrics on pillows in the guestrooms. Modern art mixes with landscape paintings in salon-style frame layouts. And running throughout the space are fixtures and artwork and colors that imbue the place with a subtle nautical feel.

“You don’t want guests to forget where they are—in the heart of Kennebunkport,” says Hurlbutt. At the same time, she is keen on introducing guests to a version of Maine they might not have expected, where antique porcelain and modern art from the Corey Daniels Gallery exist side by side in a manner that both references the past and makes a statement about where Maine is going.

Back in Portland, seated at the Danforth bar below a milky lampshade with an arch- backed goldfish swimming at its center, Raymond Brunyanszki says, “People are super open-minded here. Portland feels very vibrant, very young. It’s growing very fast,” he says. “I love Maine. I have the opportunity to live just about anywhere in the world, to open a hotel anywhere in the world, and I chose to do it here.”

The post Maine’s New Passion Projects appeared first on The Maine Mag.

It would be safe to say that throughout the State of Maine, Aurora Provisions is universally regarded as the benchmark for quality in the catering world. If you have ever attended any sort of function, from weddings to events at the Portland Museum of Art, you have witnessed the level of execution present in both the food and the service, not to mention that they seem completely undaunted when tasked with creating almost any style of cuisine imaginable. They have the resources, they have the crew, and hence the catering side of the business is unfailingly busy, all of the time. In this regard I find it quite interesting that many of the other elements of Aurora Provisions remain some of Portland’s best-kept secrets, even to those who live in the West End near their Pine Street storefront.

At the heart of Aurora’s success is owner Marika Kuzma Green, who purchased the business in 2001 after committing over twenty years of her life to jumpstarting the local food movement in Maine. Alongside friends such as Des Fitzgerald, founder of Ducktrap River of Maine and Stacey Glassman of Swan’s Way, she worked tirelessly to source and promote the best ingredients from producers within the state—an idea that is today commonplace in almost all aspects of the dining community.

This ideology is evident in their Pine Street market, where the shelves and coolers are lined with superlative local products, from yogurt to freshly baked bread. There is an extensive array of wines from around the world as well as a full collection of olive oil, vinegar, dried pasta, and more. Their espresso and coffee bar is a morning ritual for many Portlanders, which pairs perfectly with the selection of pastries that are as visually appealing as they are delicious, such as buttery, flaky turnovers filled with strawberries.

I sit for coffee with general manager Leslie Oster, who is excited about their recently granted liquor license that allows patrons to enjoy a glass of wine with their lunch in the cafe. If customers enjoy their glass, they can purchase the same wine from Aurora’s retail section. I will agree that the idea of a hot bowl of rich chicken and wild rice soup, served with fresh bread and soft butter, becomes considerably more appealing alongside of glass of rose from Provence. Oster herself has become one of the most recognizable figures within the city’s food community, and her connections and business relationships has led to an impressive group of chefs, tired of backbreaking restaurant hours, doing stints in Aurora’s kitchens for both catering and a la carte.

I will admit that, even though I have visited the market over several years, I had yet to really sit down and experience the lunch menu. “There is always a rotating selection of entrée items,” Oster tells me, “based on both the catering menu and what’s available to go in the coolers.”

Of particular note in this regard is their potato-crusted fried haddock, in which the pleasantly crunchy batter is accentuated by chive aioli and accompanied by fresh asparagus. Although the fish is fresh and delicious, it was a hard choice between that and the Andalusian meatloaf topped with hot tomato chutney.

The menu of sandwiches ranges from the traditional tuna salad served on semolina or wheat bread to decadent roasted tenderloin with pickled red onion and horseradish aioli on focaccia. The meat on the sandwich is cooked to a perfect medium rare. The last item I sample from the sandwich board is tender roast pork on crunchy focaccia, flecked with herbs, and covered in melted cheese and roasted red peppers— every bit as good as it sounds.

In an effort to not completely de-rail my afternoon with such a lunch, I call it a day after sampling their vanilla cupcake with blueberry frosting that had been calling my name since I noticed a tray of them being paraded through the dining area to the dessert counter.

As stated earlier, Aurora Provisions can easily be considered a beloved institution in Portland, yet many remain unaware of the full range of delicious eats to be had outside of the catering realm (which is not to say that there aren’t already hordes of diehard regulars). It is impossible to pigeon hole them into a single genre, and that is one of the reasons why, after all this time, they are as relevant as ever.

64 Pine St. | Portland | 207.871.9060 | auroraprovisions.com

The post Aurora Provisions appeared first on The Maine Mag.

Chef Fred Eliot is a born and bred Frenchman. He was raised in Paris and learned to cook at his grandparents’ wood-fired stove in Normandy. He says this is where his palate developed, with a taste for traditional country dishes. Eliot honed his cooking skills at some of the top restaurants in New York, including Le Cirque and Prune. It was at Prune, with Gabrielle Hamilton, that he learned to be meticulous with flavor, but more relaxed about presentation—he prefers an unfussy look, that’s rustic and not overdone.

Eliot is very enthusiastic when he talks about his foie gras, explaining the very process with a slight, and very charming, French accent. He only buys foie gras from Quebec, where the geese are handled more humanely, and thus the liver is cleaner and more flavorful. He uses a multi-step process to prepare it that involves curing, poaching, and finally, pressing it into a terrine. There it’s capped with a thin layer of foie fat. “The taste is very dramatic, much more so than in most restaurants,” says Eliot. “It doesn’t get more foie than this!” I spread some on a toasted piece of bread. His enthusiasm, and effort, is warranted. It’s so rich and buttery that I’m tempted to eat more than is good for me.

On weekends only, the bistro offers a two-pound côte de boeuf. This is a giant bone-in, grass-fed rib-eye steak meant for sharing. It’s prepared in a traditional French manner, which of course means seasoned with salt, pan-seared with loads of butter and finished with garlic, thyme, and more butter. This makes for a perfect caramelization and a steak that’s deliciously meaty, salty, and the best kind of fatty. Sure, you can get it sliced, but the chef recommends you ”get a bunch of steak knives and just go crazy.”

Eliot acknowledges that Petite Jacqueline is fairly meat-centric, but there are definitely other delicious options available. We tasted the grand aioli, a beautiful plate of barely cooked vegetables and house-made aioli. Eliot explained that he adds a cooked potato to the aioli, a technique that is used in some parts of France, to give the garlic mayonnaise a thicker texture. I dip haricots verts, local radishes, and small red potatoes into the tangy sauce. Fresh artichokes poached in olive oil, shallots, wine, and broth are also on the plate and taste of spring.

The French have a wonderful way with asparagus, and that is certainly the case at Petite Jacqueline. Fat, well-trimmed spears are poached until just cooked through and bright green. On top is a smooth cream sauce full of chewy morels that make a simple vegetable into an indulgent standout dish. When you’re done with the asparagus, I highly recommend using a bit of bread to get the last of the sauce.

I’m not sure where he finds the time, but Eliot also makes the desserts at the bistro. Most are classic French—pot de crème, chocolate mousse, and delicate éclairs. The raspberry éclair is crispy and creamy, stuffed with a light Chambord cream and decked out with a bright pink icing. Coming soon: an éclair filled with lemon curd, topped with a Swiss meringue brûlée.

Catherine Cote-Eliot, Fred’s wife, is a pastry chef as well. Along with Petite Jacqueline owners Steve and Michelle Corry, she is working hard to open their next venture, Portland Patisserie and Grand Cafe. The new Market Street eatery opened in June and featured sweet and savory crepes, salads, sandwiches, and French pastries.

I picture myself visiting Petite Jacqueline again on a sunny day, sitting outside at one of the sidewalk tables. I’m sipping a glass of the refreshing rosé and enjoying a plate of French cheeses and maybe some mussels dijonnaise. I’ll have that lemon éclair, too. The scenery will be a little different, but I’ll probably feel like I’m still in Paris.

The post Petite Jacqueline appeared first on The Maine Mag.

His simple 40-seat trattoria, with its menu inspired by both his time spent cooking and eating in the old country as well as Boston’s North End, has stayed the course through all of the ubiquitous, often ridiculous food trends and diets of the late ’90s. He has maintained loyal regulars and remained busy through so many ups and downs in the economy. He has seen the Food Network boom of the late ’90s and the advent of the “foodie” while successfully continuing to serve a pasta-heavy menu throughout the pronounced backlash towards both carbohydrates and gluten. Finally, he has seen giants like the Jordan Meat Packing Plant close their doors and, in 2010, completely burn to the ground, allowing for a complete transformation of the neighborhood including large hotels and luxury condos.

Yet he remains consistent, and shows up each morning to begin slowly braising beef short ribs in sweet, tangy agrodolce sauce, which will be heaped over garlic mashed potatoes and topped with a vibrant, piquant gremolata flecked with herbs and accentuated with horseradish. The soup that is the restaurant’s namesake, Ribollita, is made on the same day every week, utilizing the leftovers from freshly baked bread that serve to thicken this Tuscan peasant dish, loaded with vegetables and topped with parmesan cheese. I have, while working in wholesale wine, counted Quiet among my clients, observing each day the manner in which he happily continued to prepare the tried and true dishes that both he and his customers adore, while every now and then incorporating a single new element (only once he was sure he had it 100 percent dialed in).

Quiet has travelled a long road to reach this comforting state of restaurant bliss, starting by frequenting his grandmother’s diner while growing up (he assures me that I would have been “obsessed” with her honey-glazed yeast donuts). After finishing culinary courses directly after high school, he found himself working seasonally in Kennebunkport while utilizing the winter months to go cook in a variety of places—Seattle and Santa Barbara to name a few. In his late twenties he landed his first steady gig at another iconic eatery founded in the ’90s, Street & Co, before realizing that he was finally ready to strike out on his own, hence Ribollita came to be.

The dining room is quite intimate, with few frills outside of crisp white linens, hefty flatware, and a scattering of sculptures in the form of roosters. During service, the light is dim, aided greatly by candles, making the ambience intimate but not uncomfortably so for those not out on a date . Probably one of the most captivating parts of the experience is the heady aroma of garlic and olive oil that pervades the entire space.

An important draw, outside of the food, is the eclectic yet focused wine list, which offers quite a few gems—magnums of Produttori Barbaresco and Terradora Fiano di Avellino come to mind and are available at shockingly reasonable prices. It was actually a very well kept secret amongst thirsty restaurant workers for quite some time. Although the selection is 98 percent Italian producers and heavy on well-respected portfolios such as the Winebow Group, there are a few New World selections hidden throughout to keep things interesting.

The bulk of the menu is simple, anchored by everything from the classic Caesar salad to North End Linguine with choice of seafood and red or white sauce. All of the pasta is made in-house, honed to perfection over the years, and particularly delicious is Quiet’s plump scallops and fettuccine with velvety moscato cream and almond crumble. Another favorite is the pan-fried gnocchi—pillowy little dumplings tossed with very fresh peas and prosciutto di Parma before being showered with quality Parmesan. These are the kind of dishes that would most likely incite a riot if they ever found their way off the menu and Quiet knows that.

One of the evenings specials, a salad of ripe, grilled South Carolina peaches over greens with feta, aged balsamic vinegar, and candied nuts, is an interesting variation to the rest of the menu, yet a refreshing precursor to rich, salty dishes like roast chicken puttanesca with fresh pappardelle. He also consistently offers at least two flavors of his popular, custard-based ice cream, most notably vanilla bean and espresso chocolate chip, which he also uses in Ribollita’s affogato, doused with a liberal portion of espresso to revive the senses if you happened to have finished an entire plate of short ribs.

In the case of Ribollita, the fact that the dining experience has changed so little is a very good thing, as it remains on the corner of Middle Street amidst of flurry of new restaurants, confidently turning out delicious Italian cuisine time and time again. If you’ve ever met Kevin Quiet, you know that this embodies both his demeanor and commitment.

41 Middle Street | Portland | 207.774.2972 | ribollitamaine.com

The post Ribollita appeared first on The Maine Mag.