Vrylena's contribution: Whispers of the Frost

It didn’t sneak up on me this year. I planned, recruited cohorts to bring cocktails, secured last-minute kitchen help (thank you S.!), invited new bloggers, and – in an uncharacteristic flash of Martha Stewart-like craftiness – made a center piece. Don’t know what that was about. . .

In year three, Obscure Holiday Cocktails officially became a tradition.

S. outdid herself (again) with cheese pairings, and the cocktails kicked ass! Seriously. All (at least to my taste) were great. So much so, that I actually got a little nostalgic about the gnarly Grinch and the revolting Christmas Pudding – ghosts of cocktail parties past.

But on to the details of 2011:

First Up – Christmas Bellringer
My contribution was this citrusy, boozy little number. A cousin to last year’s tropical crowd pleaser, The Ulimate Holiday, the Bellringer was tart with a nutty edge. More complex than a Screwdriver, but orange-juicy and pleasant, it’s the kind of drink that sneaks up on you. Again, more Santa Monica than Santa Claus, but whose judging? Methinks the dark of early December makes me crave the beach.

Fixin’s:
1 oz Gin
1 oz Cointreau
1 oz Frangelico
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed orange juice
Orange twist

Pairing: Caprichio De Cabra, a Spanish goat cheese high in fat and protein plowed through the drink’s tart sweetness and draped my tongue in a happy hug.
Bottom Line: The fruity cointreau and the nutty frangelico totally mask the gin. Proceed carefully.

Next – Greek Airmail
A. twisted this vintage spirit around with a liquor from his heritage (the Greek Metaxa subbed for rum) and produced a fragrant winner. Earthy from the biting tonic and bitters, sweet from the honey, tart from the lime and fresh from the mint. Balanced is the word. Much like the man, himself.

1-1/2 oz Metaxa
3/4 oz Lime juice
1 oz Honey
Splash Q Tonic
Dash of bitters
Muddled mint

Pairing: England’s Keen’s cheddar – more nutty than sharp – added one more dimension to the flavor frenzy. Nice.
Bottom Line: A terrific aperitif. I recommend it as a start to an evening.

Kate stirs the Tom & Jerry's.

Then – Lion’s Pride
Adam took delicious liberties with a seasonal tipple revealed by the bartender at Brunswick’s beer mecca. Hence the name. Very, very adult with a peppery finish, this frothy concoction won my heart. It featured bitters (a popular ingredient this year) and was like nothing I’ve sipped before. Herbal, with a smooth base from the egg white, it rolled around in my mouth like a savory sauce until the twin kicks of lime and pepper asserted themselves. Sublime.

Fixin’s:
1 oz St.Germain
1 oz Gin
Portion of egg white
Dash Peychaud Bitters
Lime juice
Shake and top with lime zest and black pepper

Pairing: Valencay, a goat’s milk covered in ash, was a grown up cheese for a grown up drink. Instead of countering the Lion’s Pride’s flavors, it matched them. Brilliant.
Bottom Line: Classic yet original. Smooth yet spicy. If only folks referred to me this way!

And Then – Whispers of the Frost
I adore the name (so, granted, I was predisposed) but Vrylena’s beverage continued the evening’s winning streak. Culled from Old Mr. Boston De Luxe Official Bartender’s Guide (I sense V is just as enamored by such-titled things as I) this delicately named drink is anything but. Powered sugar and citrus barely tame three dark, potent alcohols. Subtle it is not. But truly luscious. It went straight to my head.

1 oz Bourbon
1 oz Sherry
1 oz Port
Dash of Powdered Sugar
Serve with slices of lemon and orange

Pairing: My pick for best pairing of the night. A Bayley Hazen Blue stared the high alcohol content of Whispers of the Frost right in the eye and didn’t back down.
Bottom Line: A couple of these and you’ll be ho ho ho-ing. Ergo, this cocktail is not advisable for office parties.

Finally – Tom & Jerry
Kate continued her nog-ish ways again this year with a creamy warm Tom & Jerry.  Two years ago, I dissed the Rye Flip for being an anemic cousin to Egg Nog. Tom & Jerry caused me to reconsider that assessment. Like the flip, it’s thinner and less weighty than nog, but offers the same velvety, pie-like spice that saucily chortles, “Christmas.”  Without the heaviness.

12 eggs
1 Cup Sugar
1 Bottle Brandy
Ground allspice
Ground cinnamon
Ground cloves
Dark rum
Milk
Nutmeg

Pairing: S. rightly skipped the cheese this round and presented us with not one, but TWO, delectable homemade chocolates: Ghost Chili Salt Bark (with salt from Gryffon Ridge Spice Merchants in Dresden, ME) and Guittard Chocolate with Candied and Roasted Marcona Almonds and Sea Salt. Yes, the women is my hero.
Bottom Line: A lovely way to end a lovely evening.

Other highlights? S. brought the best deviled eggs I’ve ever had the honor of devouring and Steffi (the awesome owner of Schulte & Herr) popped in for the Christmas Bellringer round and left behind (bless her) a plate of her restaurant’s signature lox. All and all, a successful night of imbibing, noshing and gaiety.

Blogger’s Note: Check out the insights and thoughts of the other participants at their blogs at the links above!

Sonny's - the scene of my Valentine "dream date" with younger man, James Franco.

So I decided to run with the truly absurd.

I lured Adam into my scheme, and over dinner and a great bottle of wine, we devised “The Perfect Portland Celebrity First Dates” for ourselves. And not just one celebrity date, mind you, but three dates each with three chosen celebrities – one younger, one older – and one of our own generation.

MY DATES

The younger man date
James Franco – to Novare Res Bier Cafe, then Sonny’s
With roles as diverse as Sean Penn’s lover in Milk, the partier in Pineapple Express, and the outdoor adventurer/survivalist in 127 Hours, sexy Franco can’t be pigeon-holed. And, as a PhD candidate, he attends poetry classes at Yale. What’s hotter than that? I’d get him a little tipsy with a few 10% beers at Novare, then spice up the evening with Sonny’s Latin-inspired entrees. We’d keep the night sizzling by sipping pepper-infused tequila at Sonny’s bar.

The man of my generation date
Colin Firth – to Miyake, then Fore Street
This high-brow Brit would want the best, so I’d start at Miyake. Small. Colorful. Fresh. Perfectly packaged. The decor at Food Factory Miyake is itself a metaphor for this tiny Japanese bistro’s delicate delights. Super-fresh and expertly prepared, the sushi offerings would surely impress the Oscar-nominated star, no? Then, off to stellar desserts and cocktails at Fore Street, where we’d sink back in a squishy bar couch and make goo-goo eyes over a slice of Chocolate Souffle Cake.

The older man date
Richard Russo – to Caiola’s
Let’s face it, with nary a hipster in sight and the best comfort food in town, Caiola’s is the kind of cozy neighborhood restaurant where your cheeks turn rosy from wine and animated conversation. What better spot to pick the brain of an older (but cleverly cute) Pulitzer Prize winning novelist? As a Mainer, Russo would appreciate Caiola’s hand-crafted wooden tables and commitment to local, farm-fresh food. We’d stay late sipping coffee and discussing the brilliance of Empire Falls, Nobody’s Fool, and (my favorite Russo) Straight Man.

Adam outside Nosh. Waiting for Brian the animated dog?

ADAM’S DATES

Adam had no trouble picking the younger and older women (lovely Keira Knightly and striking Julianne Moore, respectively), but struggled mightily with the  “same generation” category. He finally chose – after completing the wine AND a couple Gin & Its – “that animated dog Brian from The Family Guy ‘cuz he seems like a great conversationalist.”

Okay. . .

To be fair, we’d discussed my dates first when fully sober, so his choices are a bit sketchy on the details (not to mention – one-third light on humans).

The younger woman date – “I’d take British beauty Keira to Grace, because she does all those period movies and I think the grandness of Grace would impress her.”

The older woman date – “I’d drive Julianne up the coast and woo the ageless redhead at Suzuki.” (Blogger’s note: we just saw The Kids Are Alright and I think the “red thong scene” has stayed with him.)

The same generation date – “Brian and I would grab brews and Pig Belly Apple Pie sandwiches at Nosh Kitchen Bar and discuss the events of the world.”

There you have it.

Blogger’s Note: This post is one of a group of “first-date Valentine” writings being posted today by Portland food bloggers. Visit Portland Food Map for information and links to other posts.

The neon green Grinch

As a result, this year’s selections were still odd, but less classic, and mostly better than last year’s – spiking our consumption and decibel levels.

I officially apologize to my neighbors.

Uke again challenged herself to pair each drink with an aged treat, and the results were spectacular. Cheese makes everything better, no?

First up – The Grinch:
The name seduced, but alas, this neon martini proved a disappointment. Most of us didn’t hate it outright (although Kate emitted a loud “blech” and left hers practically untouched). For me, it improved (slightly) upon subsequent sips. Adam hit the nail on the head, dubbing it “the Gatorade of cocktails” – green, tart, chemically, and – just like any sports drink – unnecessary.

Fixin’s:
3 oz Vodka
1 oz Midori Melon Liqueur
1 oz Cointreau Orange Liqueur
1 oz Sour Mix

Preparation: Combine all ingredients in a cocktail shaker with ice cubes. Shake well, strain into a martini glass, and serve.

Pairing: Leonora, a creamy Spanish goat cheese, balanced the tartness and made it drinkable.

Bottom line: Unless you like bright, puckery “girlie” drinks – don’t bother.

Next – The Ultimate Holiday:
Citrusy and smoky with a bitter bite, The Ultimate Holiday was a massive improvement over The Grinch. An alcoholic twin to grapefruit juice, the cloudy, pinkish concoction was flat-out marvelous. While concurring with me on it’s obvious merits, Adam questioned the “Christmasyness” of the bourbon-based tipple – asserting that it was more appropriate for a Jamaican beach. He had a point. Perhaps the word “holiday” in the title was intended as the broader British definition, meaning “vacation.” Ah, well. . .

Fixin’s:
2 oz Orange Juice
1 ½ oz Bourbon
½ oz Lime Juice
1 splash Grenadine Syrup
1 splash Ginger Ale

Preparation: Pour over rocks. Stir.

Pairing: Upland’s Pleasant Ridge Reserve, a raw aged cow’s milk from Wisconsin. A “best in show” winner at this year’s American Cheese Society conference (it also won in 2001 and 2005), the carmelly saltiness of the hard cheese called the bourbon to the forefront.

Bottom Line: I could have slurped glass after glass into the wee hours.

A. stirs honey into red wine to make Mulsum.

Then – Mulsum:
As his contribution to the evening, A. stuck to the “old and traditional” aspect of things and shared Mulsum, a wine and honey blend imbibed in Roman times. He poured glasses of Casillero del Diablo Carmenere alone first, urging us to taste. Then, we stirred in locally harvested honey – slowly adding spoonfuls. The glistening golden goo tamed the tannins and transformed the wine into a celebration.

Fixin’s:
Bottle of any bold red wine
Kick-ass local honey

Pairing: A nutty Dutch Farmstead cheese proved the perfect foil for the honeyed wine — and also the honey alone. We poured honey on chunks and devoured the whole hunk. Uke knocked this one out of the park!

Bottom line: Adding honey to the wine felt like a holiday ritual. Lovely – and very tasty.

Finally – Spanish Reindeer:
Using Kate’s homemade eggnog as a base, this creamy delight was my second favorite of the night. One shot each of Crème de Cacao and Frangelico morphed the toddie into pure dessert. Uke aptly called it “Nutella in a glass.”  With a boozy twist, that is. Lucky me – Kate parked the leftover nog in my fridge and I’m sipping another reindeer as I write. Sweet!

Fixin’s:
1 oz Dark Crème de Cacao
1 oz Frangelico Hazelnut Liqueur
Eggnog

Preparation: Blend (or shake with ice) and pour into an old-fashioned glass. Sprinkle with cinnamon or nutmeg.

Pairing: A Colston Basset Stilton from England was the opposite kind of creamy.  Sweet and spice meets pungent earthiness. Nice.

Bottom line: A great way to end!!!!

Bar Lola's meaty and delicious cod loin

Ya see, I love Bar Lola.

I love the food. I love the menu structure. I love the complete lack of pretension of owners Guy & Stella Hernandez. In short, I am horribly biased.

So, if you abhor odes – you might as well stop reading now.

But, if you want to know why Bar Lola is one of the best, most consistent and welcoming restaurants in Portland – read on.

Perhaps it is merely this patron’s perception, but a conspicuous lack of drama seems to set the vibe at Bar Lola. Out front, Stella’s keen eye and palpable calm make you feel comfortably coddled. Sneaking glances into the kitchen, you sense that Guy loves the slicing, dicing and creating. Employees appear happy. Somewhere angels sing. . .

Okay, before I go completely off the rails on this love letter, I do have two negative things to say.

1. The romantic lighting is not conducive to my already lame iPhone photography (see photo, right)
2. In the five-course “Feed Me” dinner I’m about to describe, I wasn’t completely enamored with the opening round – a pork belly “snack.”

The Review Part

Bar Lola structures its menu into five sections: small, medium, large, salads and sweet. Experience it as you like. Pick one from each and throw in wine pairings. Simply have a small and a large. Go crazy with the mediums (an approach favored by a fellow blogger and Bar Lola lover), or let the kitchen decide and choose “Feed Me.”

For this review I cashed in my chips and went all in: Feed Me ($44) with wine pairings ($24). I received a dish from each grouping (er, actually TWO from medium), wine pairings with all but the salad, and a sizable “snack” to begin.

Adam had to roll me home.

Round One: Snack
(The aforementioned) Seared Pork Belly With Cucumber Slaw.

While good, it lacked the profoundly delicious nature of everything that followed. Slightly too charred, the belly couldn’t match the lusciousness of the “Japanese Big Mac” I enjoyed recently at Pai Men.

Let’s move on – shall we?

Round Two: Medium
Orecchiette with Olive oil, Pangritata and Portuguese Sardines

Pangritata is a Southern Italian flash of brilliance. Oft made from stale bread, herbs, crushed garlic and olives, it’s a “poor man’s Parmigiano.”

Wearing a delicate coating of this savory substitute, the tender, ear-shaped pasta and the plump, salty sardines mingled in my mouth – joined by flecks of spinach and a nose-tingling dash of red pepper flakes. I can’t remember the last time something tasted so singularly sublime.

Each bite was better than the last. I wanted to dive into a vat of if it and eat my way out. Instead, I settled with sipping the paired wine (a Michel Lynch Sauvignon Blanc from Bordeaux), which flawlessly corralled the red pepper’s heat.

Bar Lola's front entrance sign in Portland Maine's East End

Round Three: Medium
Applewood Smoked Duck Breast with Morse’s Sauerkraut and Mustard

This is one dish the Hernandez’ tend to keep on the menu, and the one – if permanently removed – would drive Adam to Hari Kari. My acerbic cynic of a man morphs into a sentimental poet each time he eats it.

He ordered it for himself (thank God – I’m not beyond wielding my fork as a weapon) and voiced (more than once) exactly what I was thinking: smoke and sour together is the culinary world’s gift to the tastebuds.

Particularly in this dish.

Rosy slices of succulent smoked duck cap a mound of pungent sauerkraut so saucey and laced with mustard that the grains flow in a river around the plate. I was so enjoying it – closing my eyes and chewing at a snail’s pace – that I almost forgot to drink my wine: a lovely Leese-Finch Pinot Noir from Monterey.

Round Four: Salad
Roasted Lentil Salad with Carrots and Mini Brussel Sprouts

If you read AP much, you know I’m obsessed with earthy flavors. Bitter and earthy – even better. This dish fit my fetish to a “T.” Tinged with the tang of tarragon and doused with a mustardy vinaigrette – it tasted like Fall.

Superbly roasted lentils and carrots, blessedly bitter brussel sprouts and a drizzle of aromatic oil. Simply yum.

Round Five: Large
Cod Loin with Sauteed Vegetables, Ponzu and Toasted Sesame Seeds

Immaculately cooked to a buoyant firmness, this meaty hunk of white fish charmed me with its simplicity. Flecked with a light, peppery coating, it floated in a cunning ponzu sauce.

Complex, with strains of citrus, soy, mirin, and dashi – all flavor-forward and easy to detect – the sauce was nonetheless subtle and weightless enough to not overpower the fish. Ingenious.

A white Spanish Rioja (crafted from 60-year old vines) paired nicely, curbing the ponzu’s acidity with smoke and spice.

Round Six: Sweet
Almond Tart

I have to confess. At this point, my stomach was bulging and I could only nibble.  Note taking screeched to a halt (hence the cryptic titling). I have hazy memories of a flaky crust, a dusting of powered sugar and a creamy almond filling.

Sharper scenes of previous Bar Lola desserts prevail in my grey matter, however. A honey and yogurt panna cotta comes close to being the best in town (although I give the edge to Bresca’s buttermilk), and the Trio of Cheeses always pleases.

Wrapping It Up

Bar Lola – beloved by many, but commonly overlooked on lists of Portland’s best – deserves better. Much better. It ranks high on MY list of favorites – and certainly is one of the most creative and pleasant fine dining experiences in town.

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.

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.

Putting Boda in the same category as the rest of Portland’s Thai restaurants is like equating grandma’s from-scratch Sicilian with greasy-good college town pizza. It’s a matter of ethnic authenticity.

Boda's exquisite bitter melon soup

The Thai food at Boda is simply – well – unAmerican.

And in this case (unlike Arizona’s hideous new immigration law) – it’s a good thing.

Boda’s menu doesn’t cater to the sweet-craving American palate the way 95% of Thai restaurant menus do. I challenge you to find another Thai restaurant in Portland (or in Maine for that matter) that serves bitter melon soup stuffed with minced pork.

Oily and aromatic with sesame overtones in a savory broth, the soup provoked my tastebuds like little I’ve tried before or since. It awoke areas of my tongue I didn’t know existed! A remarkable balance of flavors, it played the role of appetizer to a “T” – kicking my hunger into overdrive.

And it killed with a crisp martini.

We started the meal with the soup and an obligatory grilled skewer (the house specialty). The list ranged from pork belly, to king oyster, to asparagus wrapped in bacon. Not much of a skewer fan (I just don’t see the point, really), I found the shiitake version a tad underwhelming. The teriyaki seasoning tasted predominantly of soy and the nicely roasted mushrooms just seemed lonely on that skinny stick. The accompanying pickled onions were tasty, but did little to perk up the dish for me.

I turned back to the soup with its acerbic bouillon and spoonfuls of bean thread noodles and was happy as a clam until the entrees arrived.

My tilapia with herbs in a banana leaf conjured memories of mountainous rice terraces and thick jungles. Earthy, like a cauliflower, the fish was dense in a way that tilapia rarely is – buoyed by a bed of cabbage, shallots and hearty mushrooms. Cooked in a bevy of spices (chili, Thai basil, lime leaves, lemongrass, lemon basil, garlic) — it was heaven for the senses.  Aromatic steam released the moment I pierced the leaf and it wafted through the rest of the meal. I alternated bites of meaty fish with balls of sticky rice dipped into a puddle of spicy lemon basil broth. Sheer perfection.

Tilapia with herbs in banana leaf

While not at the level of my fish, Adam’s Thai chicken wings were fun to eat (gotta love messy finger food) — piping hot and doused with chile. Each bite into the spicy carmelized skin revealed hints of vinegar and fish oil in equal amounts. An accompanying pile of uninspired daikon and carrots lacked a strong pickled flavor, however, and did little to cool the wings’ heat.

Full at this point, I began to rethink my anti-skewer stance and wish we’d leaned more toward the lighter dishes and tapas. Fried taro sticks, Thai Northern-style sausage and Kanom-krok quail eggs all sounded just brilliant. Ah well, next time.

Boda’s atmosphere blended mod and rustic. Rough pine tables and floors mixed with cement walls and platinum and glass drop lights. Service was earnest and knowledgable. Our server was dead right with each insight and suggestion.

My one quibble with the environment is the large television hanging over the bar in the back dining room. Tuned to a reality show and set a bit too loud, IT was very American indeed.

Blogger’s Note: This post is the sixth 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.

Kon's groovy Buddha and mod lights.

The Asian fusion restaurant (located way the heck out on Brighton Street) earned immediate points for:

1. A large, uplit Buddha statue – his groovy girth shimmering in a reflecting pool,
2. Mod lights and floaty ceiling swags, and
3. A seriously strong – totally-not-girly-although-it-sounds-like-it — pomtini (pomegranate vodka with a dash of cranberry juice.)

The food wasn’t half bad either. The non-Thai food, that is.

A group of Thai-o-rama reviewers gathered at Kon a few weeks back to check another one off the list and celebrate the b-days of two of our ilk: Joe of Portland Food Coma, and Seth, Jenner’s intrepid dinner date.

And, the great thing about a crowd? Sharing.

Joe and Jenner were Kon veterans, and their recommendations – all Chinese items – were the pros of the night.

The Thai food – a snapper chosen by A. of Portland Food Map and, unfortunately, my Pad Thai (sigh) — were the cons.

Adam’s Udon soup fell somewhere in the middle, and I honestly can’t recall what Kate of The Blueberry Files – who ordered late — had (damn you, pomtini!)

The Pros:

Mini Peking Duck Appetizer: I picked this deconstructed dim sum on Jenner’s strong recommendation. I wasn’t disappointed. Tasty shredded duck strands. Puffy little “min bun” pancakes. Julienned cucumber and scallions. Five spice rub. A Peking dipping sauce of salty soy and hoisin. Very Chinese and very flavorful.

Yummy rock shrimp appetizer at Kon Asian Bistro.

Rock Shrimp Appetizer: A pile of crispy little tempura shrimp poppers topped with a sweet, tangy sauce. Joe’s rock shrimp appetizer made me drool. The whole table loved it. He had to order a second round as a result. Served in a half-orange peel. Alight with sesame and fennel flavors. Drizzled with a creamy sauce akin to a light, orangey mayonnaise. Serious yum.

Crispy Szechuan Beef: Fried shredded beef. Sweet brown sauce. Celery and carrots. Very tasty, but kinda cloying after a few bites. I loved sampling, but probably wouldn’t want it for the entire meal.

The Cons:

Pad Thai: Not the worst I’ve ever had, but certainly not the best. The noodles were a tad clumpy and the chicken – while nice and tender — was scarce. Too mild (Kon doesn’t offer heat options), it was mainly just humdrum. And, although it came with the requisite lime, it was dry and curled on the edges.

Thai Red Snapper: Deep fried and prepared with onions, snow peas, peppers, basil and Thai sweet chili sauce, it sounded promising. Unfortunately, it tasted muddy (more like catfish than snapper) and had an unappealing spongy texture. Not spicy. Not aromatic. The only positive thing I can say — there was a lot of it.

The Service: Earnest and friendly, but a bit slow.

The Bottom Line: Kon really is more Asian Fusion than Thai, and its Thai offerings seem to be its weakest link. While I’m not a big fan of hibachi, if that’s your bag, the folks in the secluded hibachi area were having a grand, raucous time. For me, the Chinese dishes were stellar – and well worth repeat visits.

Blogger’s Note: This post is the third 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.

New-fangled fish and chips at Big Fish in Kennebunkport.

Best thing in a bun: The blackened fish po’ boy at Po’ Boys and Pickles. Massive pile of seasoned New Orleans style whitefish stuffed in a crusted French bread bun — oozing roasted red pepper mayo and Cajun coleslaw. Perfection.

Best tubular bakery item: The chocolate cork at Standard Baking Company. Essentially the world’s most awesome dense chocolate cake packed into a portable, palm-sized tube. A “to-go” cocoa rush.

Best new take on a classic: The fish and chips at Big Fish in Kennebunkport. Tempura-fried ahi crusted with pepper and crunchy panko crumbs. Hand-cut shoestring fries crisped to a golden brown and dipped in hoisin ketchup. Killer.

Best booze named for a dead British actor: The Rathbone Sour from John Myers at The Corner Room. Brilliant at all things cocktail, the mix master has outdone himself with this one. Ingredients — basil muddled in ice, a dash of lemon juice, gin and — the kicker — St Germaine Elderflower Liqueur.

Best reason to stay overnight in Camden: The pork breakfast sausage at The Hartstone Inn. Cumin-spiced sausage patty the size of a fist wrapped in thick, juicy slices of applewood smoked bacon. Seriously. Made by James Beard Award finalist, chef Michael Salmon.

Best thing to squirt in your Latte: The liquid “crack” at Scratch Baking Co. in South Portland. Espresso and sugar boiled down into a gooey simple syrup. ‘Nuff said.

Best noggin’-sized breakfast pastry: The cinnamon roll at The Good Table in Cape Elizabeth. Steamy fresh, the size of my head and wafting with fragrant sugar and spice.

Best drink in a plastic-coated paper cup. The What’s Shakin’ Bacon shake at Silly’s. Thick sprigs of meaty bacon sprouting from peanut butter creaminess. Picture a well-tended chia pet. A mind-blowing blend of salt and sweetness.

Unibroue's "anniversary" ales paired well with meats and cheeses.

Specifically, Belgian-style re-fermented Canadian beer sporting noir-ish labels that depict Quebecois folklore.

Novare Res Bier Cafe held what I can only describe as a seriously kick-ass, nine-beer Unibroue tasting last night. It was well worth getting drenched in the downpour.

Richard, the Unibroue rep, was cheerful, knowledgeable, and told damn good stories. Something about a flying horse and something else about a devil. Well, anyway, I truly did learn so much about these strong, (mostly 9%) award-winning ales that my head is still spinning.

Er. . .or, maybe I’m just a tad hungover (time for some Hair of the Kahn?).

Best-selling golden ale La Fin Du Monde kicked off the evening with its champagne-like effervesence. Triple wheat Don De Dieu followed right on its heels. But the evening really got swinging when the corks popped on the next few beers — Unibroue’s three, hard-to-find anniversary ales and its out-of-stock strong amber, Seigreuriale. Novare Res owner, Eric, matched these four with a savory selection of meats and cheeses.

What I (and many others) particularly love about Unibroue ales is that they pair exceedingly well with food. Balanced and full bodied, these brews have character and complex taste, yet they don’t take your tastebuds hostage (like say, a Victory HopDevil does — albeit in a good way).

Edition 2005, mahogany colored with a rich head of foam, was my favorite of the anniversaries. Paired with a Tuscan ham and blue cheese, the beer’s dark spice and cinnamon balanced the bite of the blue. Adam preferred the Unibroue 17, an intensely malty dark ale with mocha accents. We both loved the Seigreuriale — as did everyone else in the room. Its subtle notes of citrus and apricot tamed the salty salami and pungent New Hampshire landaff.

Quatre Centieme, a frothy blonde ale, held its own as a gingery palate cleanser before the dessert course. Then, hauled out with a bit of theatrics, gooey raspberry-filled donuts helped prove how Trois Pistoles conquers sweetness. Black and port-like, the popular dark ale is perhaps my go-to pick of Unibroue’s easy-to-finds.

Capping off the evening was a display of versatility by the strangely delicious Quelque Chose. Served three ways — lightly chilled, on the rocks, and steeped to 130 degrees — the ripe cherry, clove and honey flavors presented themselves in widely varying degrees. Fruity and refreshing, the iced version was my choice. I promptly pictured myself on a tropical beach sipping a frosty glass — fanned by palm-frond wielding muscle men.

All in all — a fantastic evening with a truly magnificent brewery. I’ll let Adam’s photos tell the rest of the story:

The hand-chalked Unibroue sign announcing the event.

Happy campers sample the brews.

The organizer of a Boston-based barrel-tasting event poses with his wife and oversized Unibroue bottle labels.

The three preparations of Quelque Chose: (From left: lightly chilled, heated and iced).

Coasters bearing Unibroue's distinctive logo.

Trois Pistoles tamed the sweetness of the gooey raspberry filled donut.