AppetitePortland

Celebrating the culinary wonders of Maine's foodie hub

Archive for September, 2010

Mom’s Cookie

Sep 30

Posted by dawn in Informal Dining, Snacks & Street Food | No Comments

I’m extremely word-association susceptible. Say “cookie” and I envision my mother – pulling a tray of piping hot thumbprints out of the oven.

Mom's thumbprint cookies cool in the kitchen.

Yesterday, it was more than just a vision.

My mom caps off each visit in a baking frenzy – puttering around our kitchen in her socks – just to ensure I have a hefty supply of my favorite cookie when she leaves.

Ain’t she grand?

Essentially a modified version of the classic pecan sandy, a thumbprint is a little ball of crust and pecans squished in at the top with – you guessed it – a thumb, to make a cozy bed for chocolate icing.

The thumbprint is nothing fancy. But, for me, it means love. Home.

If I’m not careful, it also can mean an extra two pounds!

Nibble the edge and the pliant crust melts on your tongue, releasing butter (oh, yeah!) and the essence of nut. Nibble again to the center and the creamy, sugary wallop of store-bought chocolate frosting joins in. Pure childhood in a bite-sized pastry.

Mom has graciously agreed to share her recipe with ya’ll, so here goes:

Dory’s Thumbprint Cookies

Set aside:
¾ cup chopped pecans
1 egg white

Mix together:
¼ cup soft shortening
¼ cup soft butter
¼ cup brown sugar
1 egg yolk
½ teaspoon vanilla

Mix in:
1 cup flour
¼ teaspoon salt

Blend together and roll into balls. Roll balls in lightly beaten egg white, then roll in nuts. Put on a greased cookie sheet and bake for 5 minutes. Take from oven and put a thumbprint in each one. Put back in oven and bake 8 minutes longer. Once cooled, fill with icing.

Yield: 1 dozen cookies

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Erratic Thai

Sep 28

Posted by dawn in Informal Dining | 1 Comment

It’s a few days later and I’m still struggling to get my mind around our Chiang Mai Two experience. Granted, we’d stopped by the Novare Res Cask Fest beforehand, so my brain was a mite fuzzy. But, my impressions of the newish Washington Street location of the Thai restaurant would be fuzzy irregardless.

Chiang Mai's marvelous beef salad.

Hard to put my finger on it. It’s not a tangible thing. But something about the food at Chiang Mai didn’t – well – fit together.

I guess the most apropos word for the experience is – erratic.

The rocky start
We grabbed a table for four with Kate and her guy, M. Psyched to have more mouths to try more dishes, we busied ourselves with the multi-page menu. A flurry of ordering ensued. Unfortunately, it began on the wrong foot with two underwhelming appetizers. Fresh, but grandly boring, the Por Phiah Sod (also known as fresh spring rolls) tasted mostly of cold lettuce. Coriander leaf? Mint? I could barely detect them. Thai dumplings of minced pork and shrimp, although kinda tasty, failed miserably in the consistency department. A wheat paper wrapping was little more than a gluey coating. Even the bits of fried garlic on the top couldn’t save the pasty little pockets for me. They also stuck in my teeth. Blech.

I buckled up for a bad meal.

The second-round rally
But then, out came a wonderful beef salad. I mean – truly wonderful. Chosen at the last minute in a bid for more veggies, this crisp and spicy dish became my highlight of the night. A heaping pile of perfectly oiled freshness spilled over the plate with loads with greens, basil, mint, cilantro and tender strips of red pepper beef.

I have to admit I stealthily hoarded it. I’m not sure M even got any!

Also in round two was a kick-ass Tom Khar Kai. Adam took one spoonful and pronounced it “the best I’ve had in Portland.” Once we pried his fingers from the bowl, we all concurred. Tender chicken, onion, and white mushroom baubles floated in the creamiest coconut milk broth this side of the Pacific. Red pepper flakes kicked up the heat several notches. Sublime.

Things were definitely looking up.

Inconsistent mains
But, alas, the rocky road returned once Kate received her Gaeng Panaeng (i.e. curry) and Adam his Tamarind Duck. They represented the two furthest realms of moistness possible. Kate’s pork curry was a thick, sticky, over-rich morass. Adam’s duck was practically still swimming in a lake. Both blew the lid off the heat index at level two. Warning – unless you are a masochist (or originally from Louisiana or Texas), I highly recommend you stick to heat level one at Chiang Mai Two.

They ain’t kidding around.

The uninspired spring rolls

Thankfully, my Pad Thai delivered the goods with nicely cooked noodles, succulent shrimp, snappy bean sprouts, a balanced peanut/tamarind sauce, and — hurrah! — a juicy lime wedge. Folks, I have now found the best Pad Thai in this long (oh, so long) Thai journey thus far.

M, who cheekily challenged the kitchen to “bring me something you’d make for yourself” received a plate of crispy noodles (ya know, like you’d see on a salad bar), broccoli, snap peas, shrimp and chicken. Fresh but flavorless. He kept snaking his spoon over to Kate’s curry to add a little punch. A quick nibble to test, and I couldn’t blame the guy. Really? That’s what the kitchen guys eat? Well, we asked for it.

Blogger’s Note: Yes, I know “irregardless” is a nonstandard double negative. I was challenged to use it in this review – along with three other words that will remain nameless – by my Cask Fest-giddy dinner companions. There. Ya happy now guys?

Blogger’s Second Note: This post is the eleventh in a series of Thai restaurant reviews being conducted — and posted on the same day — by a group of Portland bloggers and writers. For other reviews, check out Portland Food Map.

Chiang Mai on Urbanspoon

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Pai Men Gets Its Groove

Sep 22

Posted by dawn in Bar Scene, Informal Dining | 10 Comments

Last night, Adam and I paid our second visit to Pai Men Miyake. If you haven’t been yet – now is the time. The noodle bar appears to have worked through opening-week kinks and is hitting its stride. Even the ventilation problem that turns the small, narrow space into a tropical morass (Kate, dear, I’ve never seen you so flushed) is being addressed today, I’m told.

So, let me humbly offer my Seven Reasons to Get You Some Gyoza:

Pai Men Miyake's amazing pork buns

1. The pork buns. Served covertly in the opening week, these babies now proudly grace the menu and they are KILLER. Joe Ricchio aptly describes them as Japanese Big Macs (ya know – special sauce, lettuce, pickle, bun. . .), but I simply call them “heaven.” We sat at the food bar alongside the kitchen and watched bun after homemade bun puff up over steam. I can tell you (as a former San Franciscan), this rich little dim sum – served in pairs – is the real deal.  With a generous slice of pork belly, a creamy/zesty sauce, and a pliable warm bun, they now top my list of decadent edible obsessions. Warning – if you eat both and proceed to finish the rest of your meal you WILL enter into a food coma (ah, I see your evil plan, Ricchio. . .).

2. Ramen like it should be. All three ramen bowls (pork, miso, soy) are tasty with nicely cooked noodles, but my favorite is the heady Soy. The salt in the soy kicks the fat and marrow in the broth into high gear and keeps the rich oil front and center as you slurp. Shake in a dash of white pepper and the complexity intensifies – releasing a burst of scallion and spices. Lean over the steaming bowl and just inhale for awhile. I swear this soup could cure anything that ails ya – cold, hangover, bad temper. . .

Word is that the ramens will evolve and change over time, which will keep things fresh and interesting. I’m looking forward to cozying up to a bowl in mid-January.

3. Supple dumplings. Gyoza just doesn’t get any better. Spiced pork fills tender, plump dough pockets, which are neither overly-crispy (I despise too-crunchy potstickers) nor soggy in the least. Spot on.

Soy ramen bowl at Pai Men Miyake

4. Friendly, fast service. The staff has now learned the delicate dance of serving in a small space. Water came when needed, food arrived fast and hot, and every single employee we passed on the way out thanked us for coming.

5. The specials are gonna kick ass. At least, if last night was any indication. I was tempted to arm wrestle my visiting mom for the last tender shrimp nestled in a tantalizing cucumber-yogurt sauce. A pickled veggie dish offered little piles of spicy kimchi, sweet daikon and sour cucumber. A refreshing way to cleanse the palate of pig fat – and prepare for more!

6. The groovy atmosphere. With spot lighting, brick walls, a flurried, open kitchen and a hovering metal sculpture stretched across the ceiling – the vibe at Pai Men is energetic, yet also oddly romantic. Sit back. Sip sake. Gaze out the picture window as traffic scoots by Longfellow’s statue in the square.

7. You can eat cheap – or not. With sizable ramen bowls priced at $8.50 each, you can fill up on noodles and endless glasses of water, or you can branch out and rack up the bucks. We like variety and sake, so you know where we fell on THAT scale.

Pai Men Miyake on Urbanspoon

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Beacon Hill Bust

Sep 17

Posted by dawn in Breakfast & Brunch, Fine Dining, Outside Portland | 7 Comments

Adam and I spent a few days in Boston for the Rush concert (yes Rush – we ARE that old AND that geeky) and took the opportunity to hit a few Beacon Hill hot spots.

Okay, so this photo has nothing to do with food, but it made me laugh. Where do you think the "specialty hooker entrance" might be? Yes, I have a 10-year-old boy's sense of humor.

While I know that it was not – of course – representational of all Boston’s food scene, I have to say that the West End certainly didn’t have much game. Clink sucked. Mooo. . . . was good, but WAAY overpriced and The Paramount was a flat-out joke.

I’ll elaborate.

But, before I do, I have to share a realization: Portland restaurants are gaining the rep – in large part – because of the presence of the chef-owners.  Not to take anything away from their hard-working sous chefs, line chefs and staffs, but the reason Bresca, Miyake and Bar Lola are consistently good is because Krista, Masa and Guy are (for the most part) THERE. They are committed and constantly creating.

So, back to Boston.

At Clink, located in the trendy Liberty Hotel, hungover line chefs and attention-starved waitresses seemed to run the show. Flirting was more on the agenda than serving. We received our wine and then lost our waitress to more important endeavors, such as chatting into the open kitchen. She must have felt me starring daggers into her back because she finally came to take our order. (And let me be clear, this was pre-concert, so it was early and the restaurant was practically empty.)

When the food came, I was sorry we’d bothered. The yellow fin tuna was days past its prime, the mussels uninspired and chewy, and the foie gras over-chilled. The meat in the goat curry was moist and flavorful, but the accompanying “homemade gnocci ” were simply flavorless gobs that managed to be both mealy and pasty. Truly a mess of a meal.

The next night’s dinner at Mooo. . . .was much better. A swank steak house with cream decor and dim lights, the place was packed and vibrant. The food was extremely good. Adam’s fries in his Steak Frites rivaled Duck Fat’s and our sauteed spinach was simply – and perfectly – cooked. My (ah-hem) beef with the joint? A 14-ounce New York Strip was $44 and it came with nothing.

Nothing.

A Napa Cabernet that I know to retail at $15 was listed for $65. An $8 Spanish Tempranillo was $42. This ain’t The French Laundry folks.

Now, on to the – apparently – celebrated neighborhood spot, The Paramount. Granted, we had one simple breakfast there instead of the much-acclaimed “diner” fare. But, if the overcooked eggs, undercooked potatoes and watered-down coffee are representational of, well,  anything – we just didn’t get it. Adam also was particularly annoyed at the non-neighborhoody marketing speak plastered on the walls. Attempting to explain their policy of not letting you sit down until you’ve ordered and paid, the faux-friendly phrasing just made us gag – “it may seem strange but it actually makes sure that the delicate balance of tables and guests is not upset – ensuring that you have a table when you need one”

A more honest approach would have been to say, “Its been working since 1937, so who are you to question? Just order your food from the distracted kitchen help, stand around for awhile, then try to guess when they throw your order on the counter. Got your food? Good. Now you can see if there is still a table left for you. If not, the john in back might be free.”

Overall – our Beacon Hill dining experience was a disappointing, overpriced, unfriendly bust.

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Bene-full Round 1: Havana South

Sep 15

Posted by dawn in Breakfast & Brunch | 2 Comments

Cunning plan: Spark Adam’s waning interest in this blog by proposing a review series featuring his favorite breakfast item: The Benedict.

Mexican Benedict at Havana South

Surprising start: Expecting to begin with “benes” at a blantantly obvious venue — such as Bintliff’s — we instead found ourselves on Wharf Street on Saturday — drawn toward the funky brick façade of Havana South. What a marvelous space. A scan of their brunch menu revealed four benedict options. Aha!

Choices:

Lobster Benedict: with lobster, poached eggs, huitlacoche and a fennel hollandaise over gorditas ($12)

Mexican Benedict: with Mexican chorizo, poached eggs, and enchilada hollandaise over a homemade English muffin ($9)

Veggie Benedict: with marinated tofu, poached eggs, spicy spinach over fried polenta cake with a cilantro hollandaise ($8)

Traditional Benedict: with poached eggs, slab bacon, over homemade English muffins and hollandaise ($8)

Selections: Lobster Benedict for Adam, Mexican Benedict for me.

Impressions:

Enamoured with the accompanying potatoes, it took me a moment to turn my attention to the Mexican Benedict itself. When I did, I found it somewhat tasty – but lacking. Lacking in hollandaise, lacking in balance, lacking in crispy muffin consistency. An overpowering mole and ancho chile sauce was not so much with the benes — but with the cubed taters — and a mere smudge of hollandaise colored the tops of the eggs. Odd. The ground chorizo provided the expected kick but seemed a tad, I don’t know, overstewed. Mexican Benedict score: C

Adam fared better with his Lobster Benedict. The gorditas provided a crunchy corn contrast to the tender lobster meat, which was nicely cooked and very fresh. A sauce of fennel and huitlacoche sparked up the flavor quotient. Also known by its less-elegant nickname “corn smut,” huitlacoche is an infectious corn fungus. Seriously. Latin traditions scrape it right off the husk and use it instead of peppers to add a rich smokiness without the heat.  It lent a pleasant, pungent earthiness to the dish. Again, however, the eggs received just a tiny drizzle of hard-to-even detect hollandaise. (Side note: a query of our waitress revealed that more Hollandaise will be provided upon request. Question is — why not provide more in the first place?) Lobster Benedict score: B

While the benes were pretty good, the highlight of the meal was the side — little fried potato nuggets spiced with ancho chile powder, cumin, cinnamon and paprika. Crisp and full of zest, they were a delight. Potato Score: A

Havana South on Urbanspoon

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Pine State Palate Passions 2

Sep 5

Posted by dawn in Bar Scene, Informal Dining, Outside Portland, Snacks & Street Food | 3 Comments

Being originally from away and having just returned from too long being away (only to discover the wonderful new Portland food blog, From Away), I am happily back in town — ensconced in our new house — and of a mind to once again celebrate some of my Pine State Palate Passions. Whew!

The INCREDIBLE Maine Shrimp nigiri at Suzuki in Rockland

So here goes:

Best thing in a mini garbage pail. Bacon-dusted fries at Nosh. Since they corrected the meager-portion problem, the Congress Street kitchen bar is now consistently kicking ass and taking names with these crispy, fatty, chunky hunks of fried love sprinkled with the smoky, salty goodness of pig.

Best reason to eat on the sidewalk. Mushroom and cauliflower pizza at Otto’s. While I love all things Otto, this slice is pure earthiness on a crust. There’s something about leaning against a light pole, ripping off a cheesy bite and letting the oil run down my arm. Primal.

Best reason to get up early. Gingerbread from Standard Baking Co. Although the celebrated bakery never seems to run out of croissants and sticky buns, this mini-loaf – moist, sweet and spiced with loads of ginger – is often a goner by 9 am. Here’s me lobbying –  just buck up and bake more!

Best creamy mouth-burner. Thai chili ice cream at Mount Desert Island Ice Cream (on Exchange Street). While Gelato Fiasco’s caramel/sea salt is my usual frozen treat, lately I’ve developed a mini-addiction to this curiously piquant scoop. A serious cheek-flushing kick and peanutty flavors have firmly placed this ice cream on my go-to dessert list.

Best. Shrimp. Ever. The Maine shrimp nigiri at Suzuki in Rockland. Fresh from Mid-Coast waters and topping a mound of just-right sticky rice, this shrimp sushi pops open with a buttery-smooth sweetness that is simply out of this world.

Best cocktail Roger Sterling also would love. Gibson at Bar Lola. Two perfect, plump, house-pickled cocktail onions elevate Bar Lola’s version of this gin-soaked classic. Adam just adores it.

Best reason to drive to Westbrook. Maple Bacon doughnut at French Press Eatery in Westbrook. I still haven’t made it there for dinner (or even lunch), but the luscious taste of this decadently rich, dense pastry has burned a permanent place in my memory. What’s better than maple glaze and little crispy bits of bacon? Sigh.