Portland Food Heads

And so, another brunch review.

I have a past with Artemisia that I'm sure I share with many people who go out to eat a lot. When I discovered this comfortable little cafe for the first time about a year and a half ago, I was floored. The food was great, the waitresses were friendly and the interior was thoroughly comfortable. Needless to say, I went just about every weekend for brunch.

After a while, however, my opinion of Artemisia began to change for the worse each time I dropped in. If the home fries weren't drastically overcooked, the eggs were cold. The service went from quick as could be to lackluster. Eventually, I stopped going for a while, and pursued other area restaurants for my brunch fix. I'm happy to say that the last few times I've been in, everything has been like clockwork.

The interior of Artemisia is extremely inviting. In fact, I don't think there is another brunch spot in Portland that is better suited for a snowy winter morning. Warm lighting, comfortable booths and a view of Casco Bay make Artemisia one of the coziest places in town for a plate of bacon and eggs. The colorful, art-covered walls and the abundance of plants do even more to compliment the space. Combine all this with the fact that there is usually great music playing and it's hard to find a reason NOT to want to spend an hour or two sitting in a booth at Artemisia, pondering life over a strong cup of coffee. Plus, they have some of the best mimosas in town.

Regular readers know that Lynn is by all means a sweet breakfast person, so whenever we go to Artemisia she almost always orders the granola-coated french toast with fruit on top. As far as french toast goes, I'm not much of a fan at all. However, this is the one french toast in Portland that I'll say is thoroughly delicious. Topped with fruit and lambasted with a heavy load of powdered sugar and maple syrup, the french toast itself is always cooked perfectly and makes for a great breakfast for one or a side for two to split. Overall, a really nice plate of food that is consistently good and worth ordering.

I don't think I've ever gone to Artemisia and ordered something without eggs in it (aside from lunch) purely because their eggs tend to be perfect. In other words, they know the difference between a soft and medium poached egg, and their scrambled eggs don't come out like little granular turds; how's that for an image? The plate that I order most frequently would probably be the Kielbasa Hash and Eggs. Basically potato and sweet potato home fries, kielbasa and sauteed green peppers topped with two poached eggs and cheddar cheese, this is a delicious dish despite it's mind boggling simplicity. A little hot sauce, a knife cut right down the center of one of the eggs and you're good to go. Get some jam with the toast - Artemisia has great jam.

I've eaten here enough times to say that you aren't always going to come out satisfied. However, that is pretty typical of just about every restaurant in the country, and if you can get over the risk of taking a small gamble, you're likely to be rewarded with what is usually a delicious meal at Artemisia.

Artemisia is located at 61 Pleasant St. in Portland, ME.

~E~

Have you eaten at Artemisia? Be sure to leave a comment about your experience!

A quick post about last night's dinner, as it fell into the category of "last minute." With autumn about to hit full swing comes a transition period in which all of my time seems to be taken up by preparing for the cold months ahead. Unfortunately, that means less elaborate meals over the weekend, but only for a short while!

Last night's dinner really came together on the fly. Since I had some leftover tomatoes from the Grace tomato event last Wednesday, I decided to stuff them with a mixture of fresh mozzarella, basil, salt and pepper. As they roasted in the oven, I have to admit they toppled a bit and tried to lose their filling. Regardless, they tasted delicious and were a nice treat before the main course. Presentation isn't everything, after all.

For the main course, I threw together some curry and cumin spiced chicken thighs over pearled couscous and kale sauteed with bacon. I seasoned the chicken and seared off both sides over high heat on the stove, poured out the grease and deglazed the pan with Geary's Autumn ale. 15 minutes or so in a 350 degree oven and the chicken was finished. The remaining liquid reduced down nicely into a spicy beer-laden sauce that could've tasted terrible but actually turned out great. Couscous down, kale & bacon next and then chicken positioned on top. Nice, easy dinner that could easily fit into anyone's weeknight schedule.

As always, contact me for any recipe or technique information.

~E~

I was invited to what inevitably turned out to be an hour and a half of promotion for a new variety of Backyard Farms tomato. A total of 15 or so people showed up, most being members of the Portland food community. While I have reservations about the event's true intentions, I will say that I enjoyed some very nice conversation with some wonderfully interesting people.

Oh, and did I mention there was food?

The staff of Grace prepared a four course meal with each course using the cocktail tomato as the central element. The starter was described as a "tomato cocktail." The blanched and peeled tomato quarter was pickled in Grey Goose and Bloody Mary spices. Served on a spoon with a garnish of parsley, it was a nice teaser for the palate. The taste of the vodka came through just as the sweetness of the tomato worked to keep it at bay. It was a tasteful start to a light meal and I have to admit I'm interested by the vodka pickling concept. Might even try it out myself.

The first course was called "Three Way Stuffed Tomatoes." Three tomatoes, three stuffings: "Maine Lobster Salad with Black Olives, Capers & Basil," "Jonah Crab Meat with Avocado, Lime & Coconut" and "Cheddar Cheese with Bacon & Egg Yolk." This was hands down my favorite dish. The crab and lobster salad tomatoes both had unique flavors and textures. While they could have tasted homogeneous, they didn't. The bacon, egg and cheese is what stole the meal, though. If you've never had it, a slow cooked egg yolk is like nothing you've ever experienced.

The main course, a Smoked Tomato Risotto, was certainly very tasty, but was probably my least favorite of the meal. The risotto consisted of smoked tomato water (made with the aid of a coffee filter) and pickled fennel and was topped with thinly-sliced roasted tomatoes. I love the concept of the dish, but the risotto itself was a bit undercooked, resulting in a crunchy experience. The flavors were certainly there, but sometimes things just don't go the way they should. In the end, the dish was good, but didn't do justice to the one it followed.

The dessert course was phenomenal. Lime poached tomatoes served with cilantro yogurt sorbet and olive oil cake was the perfect combination of sweet and savory. The willful combination of torch and sugar turned the tomatoes into wilted natural candies, and the olive oil cake was incredible. Complimented by the sorbet, it really was the perfect way to cap the meal. Before dessert was presented, Grace's pastry chef Cristin Walsh demonstrated the preparation and plating of the dish. To see for yourself, check out the somewhat haphazard video below:



That's all for now.

~E~

This week's episode of Vidappétit focuses on local artist Rob Sullivan. Sullivan currently has a gallery up at Rabelais Books called "minumentals: gastronomique."

The gallery consists of 6x6 oil paintings, many of them featuring local mainstays, such as Duckfat fries and sushi from Miyake, as the subject matter. They will be on display until the end of September/early October.

A New York transplant, Sullivan currently resides in Portland and teaches at Maine College of Art.

Perhaps it's because I feel somewhat nosy bringing a camera into an upscale restaurant during the dinner rush, or maybe it has something to do with the fact that Sunday brunch has become somewhat of an institution for Lynn and I. Either way, I find myself writing a lot of brunch reviews these days. Not that this is a problem, as brunch happens to be one of my favorite meals - especially if the coffee is strong and the drinks are inexpensive. And while inexpensive may not be the absolute best way to describe a brunch at Caiola's, their price point is pretty much on par with just about every other "fancy" brunch spot in the area, and the food is certainly top-tier.

Located on Pine Street in Portland's historic West End, Caiola's is in every possible facet a neighborhood restaurant. Brunch is served only on Sundays, and my sense is that a lot of their Sunday brunch customers are there every week. If I lived in the neighborhood, there's a good chance that I'd be one of those people. The space at Caiola's is inviting to say the least, with a dining area that seems constantly basked in sunlight, even when it begins to cloud up outside. The menu has something for everyone, whether you're a sweet breakfast person or an egg devotee. The staff is friendly and attentive, the coffee is strong, and the drinks are moderately priced. So far, so good.

One of my favorite things about Caiola's is the "Morning Breads, Pastries and Cereals" section of their brunch menu. Consisting of typical breakfast sweets such as toast and jam, pancakes and oatmeal, they also offer more interesting and exotic choices such as "Polenta, Orange and Currant Morning Cookie" and "House Made Cinnamon and Sugar Pop Tart."



We went with the Pop Tart and a bowl of fresh fruit to start off with, and it would be an understatement to say that I have absolutely no regrets. The "Pop Tart" - basically a delicious homemade pastry that vaguely resembles the real (ie: fake) thing, was plump and full of a piping hot mixture of cinnamon and brown sugar. Unbelievable.While fruit bowls often go unmentioned (and for good reason) this one was different, as figs and kumquats among other more exotic fruits accompanied the more traditional bananas, and blueberries served everywhere else. Order the fruit bowl.

For Lynn's "maine course" so to speak, she ordered just one of their pancakes to be eaten with the fruit and a side of sausage links. While I've professed many times that I am not much of a sweet breakfast type of guy, the pancakes at Caiola's are are some of the fluffiest and tastiest I've ever had. Paired with a bowl of fruit and some type of meat, this would make a delicious breakfast for anyone - fan of sweets or not. Lynn actually couldn't stop talking about it the entire time we were there. I suppose that's as good a sign as any that Caiola's has pretty much nailed the "sweet breakfast" category. Aside from Hot Suppa, I can't think of anywhere else that does an equally impressive flapjack.

Of course, there are more important things in life, such as Eggs Tostada, which is described on the menu as "Two Fried Eggs, Crispy Corn Tortilla, Chorizo, Black Beans, Sour Cream & Sofrito." I have many favorites in this town, but this may be my favorite plate of eggs in Portland. I'm an avid lover of anything remotely related to Huevos Rancheros, and this plate is pretty much a play on that concept. The eggs were cooked perfectly over-easy; just as I had asked. The chorizo added a nice amount of spice (even though hot sauce is inevitably necessary for a plate of food like this, no matter how hot it initially may be) and the sofrito, although slightly undercooked, was a welcomed addition to the plate. I'll say it again, just to reinforce the point: The Eggs Tostada at Caiola's may be my favorite plate of eggs in Portland.

Obviously, Caiola's brunch isn't necessarily the cheapest in town, but that's not why people eat there, and that's not what they're going for. As far as a fully satisfying Sunday brunch goes in the area, you'd be hard-pressed to find a better option than Caiola's.

Caiola's is located at 58 Pine St. in Portland, ME.

~E~

Have you eaten at Caiola's? Be sure to leave a comment about your experience!

This marks the 8th edition of Sunday Evening, and could perhaps be seen as a welcomed occasion for a temporary break in format. Without delving into too long of a story, Lynn and I had intentions (and tickets) to be at Maine Fare's "The Whole Hog" event at Saltwater Farm in Lincolnville yesterday afternoon. A failed break pad and busted caliper piston later, we ended up helpless on the side of the road in Brunswick instead. No charcuterie, no whole hog.

I have to admit that it's pretty hard to find anything positive in losing $150 worth of tickets to car failure, but yesterday turned into somewhat of an interesting day. Obviously we needed another plan, and it turned into my mom picking us up from a garage in Falmouth. We agreed to take a ride with her since the weather was so nice, and ended up down near the never-ending carnival that is Old Orchard Beach: loathed by locals, adored by French Canadian tourists.

While the living circus itself is surely something to stay away from, the area that surrounds it reminds me of my childhood in Maine, and the one thing above all else that brings back memories is the other side of Maine food: shrimp rolls, fried clams and onion rings. I practically grew up eating the stuff (having lived a five-minute walk from The Lobster Shack in Cape Elizabeth for the better part of my life), and even though I may shun it these days in the name of "fine cooking" so to speak, there's no denying your roots.

And so we passed Bayley's Seafood Restaurant, right on the outskirts of the beach scene on Pine Point Rd. I distinctly remember taking trips down to OOB when I was a kid and stopping here for a shrimp roll, which came chock full of shrimp and cost only $2.95. The price went up a dollar, but the only other difference between the shrimp roll of old and the one I had yesterday is that it used to come wrapped in tin foil instead of a cardboard sleeve. It tasted exactly the same as it did when I was ten years old, new to Maine, and certainly new to the concept of a seafood shack. It's comforting - almost eerie, in fact - to know that after nearly 15 years, very little has changed in this little neck of the woods.

My mom has always been fond of these kinds of places, and said she knew of an even better one down the road - Salty Bay Seafood, on Jones Creek Dr. in Scarborough. I figured, at this point, there's nothing stopping this from becoming a nice outdoor meal overlooking a lazy river feed itself into the nearby ocean. Why not pick up a bottle of wine and sit down for some more "Maine" food? That question is of course rhetorical, but I will answer it anyway by saying that there is nothing like drinking white wine out of a Styrofoam cup on a plastic picnic table with hoards of bugs flying aimlessly around.

The shrimp roll from Bayley's was great, but it's tough to beat a nice portion of fried clams, coleslaw and onion rings. This truly is quintessential Maine food; greasy, terribly bad for you and absolutely delicious. The bugs were so bad that Lynn had to prematurely end her short-lived relationship with the bowl of clam chowder she had ordered, as it soon became a dish you'd find on Bizarre Foods with Andrew Zimmern. I sucked down 80% of the bottle of wine in approximately 20 minutes, and it started to rain. It rekindled more memories from my childhood (minus the drinking) than I care to admit, and turned out to be one of the more satisfying dinners I've had in a while.

The real title of this post should be Maine - The Way Life Could Be. As I spend most of my dining experiences in the low-lit rooms of places like Bresca, Bar Lola and Evangeline, it's easy to lose touch with the "other" side of Maine food. While I'd venture to say that Portland has some of the best food in New England - and I'll bet I could find hundreds of people that agree with me - there will always be a place in my heart for the "other." After all, it's the greasy, fried seafood that most tourists come to Maine for; not the excellent, upscale restaurants that Portland has to offer.

~E~

The October issue of Bon Appetit came in the mail yesterday, and - as everyone sure knows by now - Portland has been declared the "Foodiest Small Town in America." One of the interesting points that Andrew Knowlton brings up is that what sets Portland apart from other small cities is our wealth of great breakfast spots, be it an upscale brunch at 555 or a $4 plate of eggs at Becky's. I would have to wholeheartedly agree with Knowlton, yet go even further by saying a great breakfast/brunch doesn't end at Portland's city limits - which brings me to the Frog & Turtle, located in the heart of Westbrook, a city once shunned as a low-income mill town that has seen a recent revival and interest among artists and young professionals.

Remember Uffa? They used to be located in the same space that Evangeline currently resides. Basically, the owners packed up the shop a couple of years ago and moved to Westbrook to open the Frog & Turtle "Gastropub," which is a term that I still have a hard time coming to grips with. The nice thing is that the much of the original, friendly staff of Uffa have stuck around and the Frog and Turtle retains the warm atmosphere you might expect from this particular group of folks. While their dinner is hit or miss (sometimes wonderful, sometimes "eh"), I'd venture to say that they have fast become one of my favorite places to sit down for a lengthy Sunday brunch.

The space at Frog & Turtle is comfortable and awkward at the same time, depending upon where you sit. Definitely shoot for a booth by the windows , as the "floating deuces" so to speak in the middle of the room can make for a rather uncomfortable dining experience, especially if the place is crowded and noise levels are high. Overall, however, F&T is a very warm atmosphere with vibrant colors on the walls and not a lick of pretension throughout. If you can get in on a day when the sun is shining bright and people are in good spirits, you can rest assured that you'll have a comfortable dining experience.

One of my favorite things about Sunday is that is the only day of the week where drinking in the morning is semi-acceptable. The Frog & Turtle has a decent morning drink selection with most priced at an extremely reasonable $5 each, which ends up being a real deal considering the pours that I've experienced. I don't think I've gone to F&T once without ordering the "Harvey Wallbanger." Remember drinking Vodka screwdrivers with your friends in the high school parking lot? All I can say is that I wish I had known what Galliano was back then, because it turns this teenage cliche into a fairly respectable - and tasty - morning "apéritif" of sorts.

The best way to start a brunch at Frong and Turtle is with their house-made donuts. This isn't your typical soggy D&D fare; on our last outing, the blueberry filled glazed donut consisted of a hot filling of wild Maine blueberries and the chocolate glazed is make with a dark chocolate ganache with a donut hole propped atop the middle. Crispy fried and made to order from scratch, these donuts are far and away the best I've ever had, and are worth a try no matter how hungry you think you may be. And I don't even like donuts. If you do, it may not be a terrible idea to order a few to go on your way out. After all, the day is long, and you can never have enough donuts sitting around the house.

Since I almost always order an incarnation of their Eggs Benedict, I decided to try their omelet this time. Filed with roasted chicken, brie cheese, tomatoes and spinach (I know, weird), I wasn't quite sure what to expect, but figured I may as well go the full mile and see if they could pull it off. I'm happy to say that they did, except for the eggs themselves. The omelet, like 90% of those I've had in and around town, came out with the characteristically browned sections that show up so frequently around here. While I realize some people enjoy this preparation, I don't as I feel that the eggs become to hard cooked and lose their inherent flavor. Overall, however, it was a decent plate of food, although I'm not so sure I would order it again.

The real reason to come to Frog & Turtle for brunch is for their variations on Eggs Benedict, as this is where they shine. Lynn ordered my usual, the "Jimmy Benedict," which consists of bacon, caramelized onions, scallions and brie under two poached eggs with hollandaise, served over an English muffin. This is probably my favorite plate of Eggs Benedict anywhere; Portland, Westbrook or otherwise. The subtle pungency of the brie, savoriness of the bacon and sweetness of the onions combine to make each bite taste better than the last. In other words, Frong & Turtle has discovered a more natural substitute for MSG. I can't stress enough that this is the best plate of Eggs Benedict in the area.

My only gripe with Frog & Turtle's brunch is that, more often than not, the home-fries and green salad they serve with the egg dishes are both overwhelmingly salty, occasionally to the point of being inedible. I'm no stranger to seasoning my food and certainly not one to complain about this type of thing very often, but this really takes it a bit too far. A certain amount of salt on each of these components is of course necessary, but too much is too much.

Overall, however, the Frog & Turtle allows one to escape the hustle/bustle of Portland and venture into Westbrook for a relaxed, comfortable, and decently priced brunch. I'd recommend it to just about anyone.

The Frog & Turtle is located at 3 Bridge St. in Westbrook, ME.

~E~

Have you eaten at Frog & Turtle? Be sure to leave a comment about your experience!

When the Vidappétit series first came to fruition, I had no idea how much work would actually have to go into putting together a single 8 minute video clip. Between doing the interviews, editing the raw footage and turning things into a cohesive whole, let's just say that the original estimate of an hour's worth of work turned out to be a drastic underestimation. Between working full-time and trying to take advantage of the last few weeks of warm weather ahead of us, producing an episode of Vidappétit each week is out of the question for the time being.



That said, Vidappétit - at least for a little while - is going to become a bi-weekly rather than weekly installment. I can't imagine anyone losing sleep over this, but I figured it best to let everyone know.

The upside to this is that I am working on putting together another new installment for Portland Food Heads, which will be a bi-weekly series of essays written by chefs, authors, readers etc. In other words, one Thursday you'll have an episode of Vidappétit to watch, and the next you'll have a quality essay to read.

I would like to use this moment as an open call to readers who may be interested in submitting an essay for the series. The rules are outlined below -

• * Each essay must be one to three pages in length.
• * Even if in the most backwards way possible, the essay must involve a culinary experience (of ANY kind) and Portland, ME. Use your imagination - that's the whole point!
• * No "My Favorite Place For Bacon And Eggs." The intention of these essays is for them to be less about food per-say and more about the author. In other words, voyeuristic in the same vein as a typical memoir.

I encourage EVERYONE to submit an essay, no matter how you view yourself as a writer. My intention is to eventually put together a volume of the best of the bunch and have it published locally, so why not take a shot at the possibility of royalties?

If interested, please contact me and we can go into more depth about the project.

~E~

The summer, which seemed to arrive sometime around late July, is coming to an end.  Although the weather that comes during September in Maine is typically gorgeous and in and of itself worth getting excited over, there's something saddening about the fact that summer - as brief as it really was this year - is ready to be put to bed.





But let's not skip out on fall - the state's quintessential season, in my opinion.  I love the fall.  As autumn arrives, temperatures begin to drop and leaves fall, turning neighborhood yards a warm shade of burnt-orange.  Apples thrive, pumpkins decorate landscapes and a sobering chill fills the air.  It really is my favorite time of the year and - frankly - I can't wait for it to arrive.

Perhaps the real reason I relate so strongly with fall is because of the type of food it compels me to cook.  No season speaks to me - at least in a culinary sense - the way fall does.  I look forward to dinners of pork chops with apples and bourbon-sweet potato puree: Earthy, sweet, warming. 

So, theoretically, this edition of Sunday Evening will serve as a gradual transition from the long sunny nights of summer to the invigorating evenings of autumn.  Last night, we started off with a lemon-cream sauce pasta with crab meat, roasted red peppers and chanterelle mushrooms.  This was just one of those pasta dishes that kind of comes together as you cook.  In other words, I didn't necessarily know where I was going, or what ingredients I was using, when I started.  Fortunately, it ended up tasting just right: A reduction of white wine and the juice of a meyer lemon combined with heavy cream and pecorino-romano cheese made a silky sauce for the pasta; chanterelles sauteed with butter and salt added an earthy contrast to the crab; and a fine mince of shallot topped everything off.

The second course was my descent into autumn-mode.  I happened upon some golden beets at the store and wanted to not only use them in a dish but to let them play a starring role.  I cut the beets into what I suppose you could call a brunoise, marinated them in olive oil with coriander, basil, salt and pepper, and roasted them for about 45 minutes until tender.  The aroma of these beets as they came out of the oven was intoxicating.


Paired with the beets, Swiss chard braised in Smuttynose Farmhouse Ale served as the base for the dish.  Topping off the dish was a slice of Tomme Fleur Verte goat cheeese, flanked by two slices of black forest bacon candied w/ maple syrup.  The mild, herbed cheese complimented the sweetness of the bacon and roasted beets perfectly.  This dish was awesome, and will pop up again soon I'm sure.

Lynn is an excellent baker, which will become more and more apparent as we start moving into the fall.  The latter months of the year always come with pies, whether they be pumpkin, strawberry-rhubarb, raspberry or apple, and each one she makes is an improvement upon the last.  For dessert, Lynn made homemade chocolate-chip cookies - which are always delicious and never disappoint.  We served them up hot out of the oven with some nice vanilla-bean ice cream and proceeded to fall asleep for a few minutes on the living room couch.




Surely I'll continue to hear complaints about the demise of summer - probably long after September has come and gone.  But if fall means apples and pumpkins, baked goods right out of the oven, and the kind of weather that's made for slow walks around Portland, I say bring it.  The sooner the better.

As always, contact me for any questions about recipes or techniques.

~E~

This week's episode of Vidappétit consists of an interview I conducted with Mike Mastronardi, Owner of Fit to Eat - a small cafe in Portland's Old Port. Fit to Eat has been around for quite some time, but Mastronardi recently purchased the restaurant from previous owners and is focusing on refining its food and reputation.



A former cook at 555, the conversation below touches upon Mastronardi's background, the influence of haute cuisine on his cooking technique and, among other things, how he supports local business and agriculture.

Although it's already been reported by half of Portland's underground press, Bon Appétit has named Portland their 2009 Foodiest Small Town in America. Expect a large spread in the October issue of the rag, and probably much more press to follow.

Congratulations to all those mentioned and - more so - those who were not. It's the folks who lurk in the shadows of the kitchens across town that really make this place what it is.

~E~

I think it's probably safe to say that I've eaten at Duckfat more than anywhere else in Portland. This certainly has a lot to do with the fact that I generally love their food, but it also has to do with a convenience factor. I often find myself walking out the door trying to figure out where I can go to pick up something quick and fairly inexpensive to bring home for a lazy weeknight dinner. Duckfat has been the answer to this conundrum on more occasions than I'd like to admit.

On a recent visit, I was lucky enough to have an experience that highlighted both the good and bad facets of the joint. I've had plenty of outstanding, perfect meals at Duckfat, yet have also had my fair share of poor experiences. I was looking for one that served as more of a mixed bag, and that's exactly what I got.

I have always enjoyed Duckfat's space. The room is comfortably modern, yet the exposed brick walls remind you that this is Portland, and Portland is a town with history.

A curved counter with bar stools lines the walls, while tables bathed in sunlight sit nestled against the windows, and a handful of seats line the sidewalk outside. The restaurant used to be strictly counter service, but they seem to be slowly moving away from that. With the amount of covers they turn over on a daily basis, this is certainly not surprising.

Duckfat has an impressive beer selection for such a small place; they also offer wine and french-press coffee. If you're really looking to try something special, go for their "Five-Dollar Milk Shake" made with Smiling Hill Farms ice cream; it's four dollars, and gets my vote for "best in town."

You can't go to Duckfat without getting at least a small order of their signature fries. However, this is also where things can get dicey. While I will go out of my way to say that Duckfat serves up some of the best fries I have ever eaten, often times they come out of the kitchen sub-par. I've narrowed it down to two issues: Occasionally, you'll end up with a cone of fries that amounts to nothing more than a pile of the burnt small bits at the bottom of the batch -- which is exactly what happened on this particular outing. This is always a downer, as their fries are an entirely different animal when freshly fried and golden-brown. The other issue -- which also presented itself this time around -- is that, more often than not, Duckfat's fries are so salt-centric they make your tongue burn.

Lynn ordered the duck confit salad, another one of the restaurant's signature dishes. At $6.50, this bowl-full of dressed mixed greens , a generous portion of duck confit and a poached egg is a fair bargain. The problem is it also falls prey to being one-note after the first few bites. And, like the fries, the confit often crosses that thin line of being too salty, though it was just perfectly seasoned this time around. In general, a smaller portion of this salad would make for a great first or second course in the setting of a five course meal, but as a main course it falls flat halfway through.

Where Duckfat really shines is in their panini selection. The choices rotate on somewhat of a seasonal basis, but regardless of the time of year, you can always be certain your pick will be delicious. Before it was taken off the menu, I used to give myself up to the ratatouille panino on a weekly basis. Sadly, those days are over.

On this particular night, I ordered the corned beef tongue served with marinated cabbage, swiss cheese and homemade thousand island dressing. As always, the sandwich was unbelievably tasty, although the cabbage slightly overpowered the delicate flavor of the meat itself.

For those scared off by tongue, I say one thing: You will someday die, and you'll be kicking yourself in the ass on your trip to hell for not being a bit more adventurous when it came to selecting your meats. Beef tongue has an inherently delicious flavor and texture; like corned beef brisket, but more delicate. If you're looking to try some tongue, but need to ease into it, the sandwich served at Duckfat is a sensual, relaxing entry point (ssshhh baby; im'a make you feel beautiful).

Sometimes disappointing, sometimes overwhelmingly hearty and fulfilling, I still turn to Duckfat again and again for a quick bite in Portland. Rob Evans has expressed interest in turning the restaurant into a small franchise, with plans to open up numerous Duckfats throughout New England. No matter your feeling on franchising, I can't imagine a concept like this failing - even if they set one up in the middle of the cold Vermont woods. In fact, I'd imagine it'd be pretty cozy.

Duckfat is located at 43 Middle St. in Portland, ME.

~E~

Have you eaten at Duckfat? Be sure to leave a comment about your experience!