Journey to Maine

Ah...Maine. It was so sweet. This vacation was sorely needed. The summer had made me fidgety and uncomfortable. Our days were pretty loose, but time was tight with nervous tension as I braced myself for my daughter's departure to college. It was a relief to finally bring her up to Boston and see her new classmates welcome her with open arms. I held back tears on the drive north, willing myself to focus only on the days of abandon and relaxation to come. I was immediately struck by the sense of peace that came over me as we drove up Route 1 to Ogunquit. Lovely antique shops dotted either side of the road, punctuated by an occasional lobster shack.

The inn on Shore Road was recently renovated and charming, perfectly situated in walking distance from the beach and town. We settled in and went for a walk to get the lay of the land. Touristy tee shirt stops were interspersed with ice cream shoppes and galleries. Our first night, after an emotional day and lots of traveling, found us a bit out of sorts. A simple meal of wine and cheese would have suited our tastes, but it was not to be had. We settled instead for an assortment of "tapas" that is better left unmentioned.

The next day, after a restorative few hours at the beach, we drove north to Kennebunkport to poke around. We sipped cocktails at the Kennebunkport Inn and then headed to dinner at the beautifully decorated On The Marsh Bistro. In a lovely old barn, located (as expected) on a marsh, we were seated in tufted armchairs at a romantic table in the corner, partially masked by drapery. We felt pampered and special, and were excited with the anticipation of the meal to come...
which fell flat on arrival. The suggested tomato vodka gazpacho had turned sour and had to be sent back to the kitchen. A house salad remarkably presented wrapped in cucumber, was otherwise unremarkable. Tagliatelle with wild mushrooms was bland--the chunks of starburst squash that dotted the plate were out of character for the dish. Better fare was soy sauced seared tuna which was well seasoned. Desserts attempted to be innovative but also missed their mark--multi-flavored creme brulees tasted just like, well, creme brulee. Loveliness in decor doesn't always translate to the plate, I guess.

Day two began with an invigorating power walk along the Marginal Way, a 1 1/4 mile path along the cliffs of the coastline. We hit the beach once again and then decided it was time to get serious about some lobster. After considerable research, I chose a highly recommended lobster shack, the, uh, Lobster Shack in Perkins Cove. No fancy digs here--place your order at the counter, pick a picnic table, and they bring the goodies to you. We began with clam chowder--a piping hot fragrant broth thick with plump clams and only a drop of cream. Steamers came by the quart and were extra briny thanks to the sea water used to steam them. Our lobsters (female, of course) had the fattest tails I've ever seen; the meat was tender and so sweet. A local Red Claws Ale (which we brought along) was the perfect beer accompaniment. By the way, loved the big sink in the middle of the shack which definitely came in handy for washing up after our deliciously messy meal!

On our final full day, after a requisite power walk, we cut our time short at the beach and headed to Portland. We treated ourselves to an afternoon snack of a baker's dozen--make that two--of fresh oysters on the half shell at J's Oyster, a lovable dive on the harbor that was buzzing with locals even on a Thursday afternoon. A stroll through the town, a little shopping, and then to Hugo's for dinner. Rob Evans, a James Beard awarded chef and his wife, Nancy Pugh, have a true farm-to-table philosophy. Theirs is an interesting menu concept--all dishes offered are similarly sized, no appetizers or entrees. They also suggest a chef's six or eight plate tasting menu which is a "surprise"--the chef chooses the dishes for you. We weren't up to such an ambitious meal (especially after our 
2 dozen oysters!), so we opted to select six plates to share. 

Halibut crudo with melon was light and pleasantly sweet, while a crispy poached egg and pork rillettes with green beans did not live up to its name. The egg was not really crispy--more like a poached egg that was pan fried; the pork rillettes were unfortunately reminiscent of spam. Round two consisted of Pastis glazed veal meatballs with parmesan and braised kale--lovely glaze, tender meat--and a yummy egg yolk ravioli with duck ragu which was deconstructed pasta, oozing with lush yolk, over a rich stew of crumbled duck. The final course pairing: potato wrapped lamb sausage (the meat was oddly evocative of the earlier meatballs) and poached hake with romesco sauce, which was flaky and rich. Ambitious offerings? Yes. Successful? Somewhat.

After our final Marginal march the next morning, it was time to say goodbye to beautiful, peaceful Maine. But our lobster yen was not yet fully fixed. As we drove back down Route 1, stopping here and there at the antique shops along the way, we finally landed at York Lobster and Seafood to scratch our lobster roll itch. And, boy, did they fill the bill. Served on a grilled, sub-sized hot dog bun, this behemoth sandwich was bursting with luscious lobster meat, just lightly licked with mayo. Tender fries and pickle slices were the perfect crowning touch. 


At last, we could properly bid farewell to Maine--until next time. Bar Harbor, perhaps? 
For now, it is back to reality, but it was sweet while it lasted....