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.

The sweet chicken wire bagel bin at 158 Pickett Street.

The Judges: Adam and me

The Battleground: South Portland, Maine — one weekend in late February.

The Weapons of Choice: Everything and Sea Salt Bagels.

The Reason: Foodies we deeply respect deemed the bagels at 158 the “best in Maine.” Yet, the voraciously happy bagel buyers at Scratch seemed to know something. Who was right? Which of these former partners did bagels best?

We were determined to find out.

Scratch: Bagels purchased and brought home for toasting:

My face scrunched in doubt when I first pulled the Scratch bagels out of the bag. They were so light. When they buckled under the pressure of the knife – reacting more like croissants than bagels – I got worried.

Once toasted and slathered in Scratch’s homemade herb and chive cream cheese, however, my fears went out the window.

Good. God. Almighty. They were great bagels.

Light and airy, yes, but intensely flavorful. The Sea Salt bagel, especially, hit my tastebuds with a savory barley malt. Smoky salt slowly dissolved on my tongue. As I chewed, the wheat and grain came alive and perfectly blended with the fluffy cream cheese that was whipped into a delicate froth. Simply marvelous.

Now, bagel purists may say that Scratch’s soft-style bagels are simply rolls with holes posing as bagels. But me? I am more a stickler for flavor than texture. And these were killer.

­

A pile of Sea Salt and Everything bagels at Scratch Baking Co.

158 Pickett Street: Eaten in the restaurant:
Bedazzled by an abundant bagel bin and the aroma of fresh bread, my senses were heightened simply by walking into 158. Tempted by the more expansive options (Scratch only offered three), we nevertheless stayed the course and ordered the Everything and Sea Salt with herbed cream cheese.

Denser and chewier with a more assertive wheat taste,158’s bagels certainly were more traditional. An interesting fact considering the common beginnings.

Piled high with seeds of all sorts – including copious amounts of sunflower – the Everything was the perfect example of what a classic bagel should be.

The Sea Salt bagel, however was a bit too salty. An herb cream cheese­­ mellowed it slightly, but I still puckered.

The Verdict: Scratch by a nose. But, just barely. Both establishments make truly fab bagels. And, If there is one thing I’ve learned, it is that bagel preferences are extremely subjective – and very, VERY personal.

Sign for the French Press Eatery in Westbrook.

The Plan: Hunker down and work and eat my way through half a day.

The Start: 8:15. Breakfast order in, I am booted up and typing at a round wooden table along the large, front windows facing Main street.

The Early Fail: 8:30. A basket of three steaming hot donuts appears under my nose. Crystal clear that the cashier’s minimizing “oh, about this big” hand gesture was utter lie.

Goal sunk.

Even at 2:00 pm – I still couldn’t handle a sandwich.

As big as regular donuts, twice as puffy and piled high with ingredients, these outrageous donuts are not for health nuts or the faint of heart.

Two of my three choices – the Bacon-Maple and Cinnamon Sugar –  even sported mini “hole” versions of themselves tucked into their middle voids. The third, Double Chocolate, was more of a donut sandwich — extra puffy, sliced in half, and coated with a thick chocolate glaze that trickled down the sides and oozed out the middle.

Completely ridiculous. And, deadly, decadently good.

At $5 for three, the donut basket was a great deal. It could feed a family of four. A dozen costs $18. One costs $2. Other options included a classic Crueler, Raspberry Jelly, Boston Cream, Chocolate Glazed and a peanut butter-and-banana-filled concoction called The Elvis.

Biting into the donuts caused an intense “fresh from the fryer” reaction in me –  a slight film instantly coated my tongue as the jolt of sugar and fat hit my blood stream. After eating only a third of each, I was ready to explode (okay — confession — I eventually nibbled my way through most of the Bacon-Maple). Topped with real bacon crisps and a dense maple glaze, the mixture of sweet and savory was right down my alley (see Whole Lotta Shakin’)

Decadent donuts (from left to right): Bacon-Maple, Double Chocolate and Cinnamon Powered Sugar.

I sat there in a bit of a food coma and spent the next few hours sipping too many cups of French Roast (beans from Rock City Roasters), working and glancing around at my surroundings. A wooden, almost deco style, semi-circle coffee bar extended across the vast majority of the room – rugged, chipped concrete pillars breaking up its mass. Thin, hand-blown drop-lights illuminated the order counter and expresso machine. Local art and photography graced the walls.

After two hours of morning quiet, I worried that the eatery had yet to capture a following (a cause championed in a January Maine Today review), but by 10:30, the place filled up with “ladies that lunch,” local moms and other laptop-toting self-employeds. A constant chatter and buzz continued until I left at 3:00.

My new goal: Spread the word about the killer donuts and – someday – go back for lunch.

The Front Room's mussels can't match its Brunch items. Thanks for the photo, Kate!

The latter reason drew me to the East End eatery a few days ago to meet my friend Kate (of The Blueberry Files). When a chill hits the air, The Front Room’s welcoming bar warms with conversation and cheer. Laughing locals and the rhythm of a martini shaker can sustain me through March.

But, while the atmosphere sings, dinners at The Front Room have never set my toes a’ tingling. A recent dinner there with Adam yielded a good, but unremarkable, meal of roasted half chicken and cedar-planked salmon. So, my expectations were properly aligned when Kate and I ordered a bowl of mussels and two salads – Caesar for her and spinach for me.

Featuring mushrooms, roasted tomatoes, onions, and feta, my salad was tasty and filling, but the vinaigrette lacked a certain zing. The mussels – set in a stew of garlic, wine, tomatoes and herbs – were well-cooked and plentiful. They did not, however, secure a spot on my top five list (see previous post). Nothing about the basic broth overly impressed either of us.

No, it is brunch where The Front Room truly shines. I’ll patiently wait the half-hour required to procure a plate of Baked Beans & Brown Bread on a Saturday morning. Served with a basted egg, the massive pile of maple-basted beans coats thick chunks of hearty Boston-style bread – delightful. Other morning winners include a rich Potato Gnocci with spinach, bacon, two poached eggs and hollandaise; and a baked egg dish with cream and parmesan.

My Front Room bottom line: Brunch – Yes. Mussels – No.

Asian eggs dish failed to inspire at The Good Egg cafe

Unfortunately, not so much. The Good Egg was simply okay.

On the positive side, dishes were creative. The menu blended standard fare (French toast, multi-grain pancakes) with the aforementioned devilish offering (a popular entree featuring eggs, super-spicy black beans and a smoky, chipotle hot sauce).

On the negative side, execution was uninspired. My order of Asian Eggs with Mushu Pancakes seemed more Scranton than Shanghai. Chunks of onion and a hint of ginger struggled mightily – but failed – to provide much zip to what was, essentially, a decent scrambled eggs with veggies.

Adam’s Homemade Corned Beef Hash was warm, moist, hearty – and completely flat. Carrot was the prevailing flavor (not herbs, not seasoned beef). Over easy eggs were – drum roll, please – “fine.”

Service was cheerful and earnest, if a tad slow. And the specially blended CBD coffee held up its end of the bargain. Adam’s crisp oatmeal bread was a surprising stand out. Smothered with a gooey strawberry jam, the thick slices packed a sweet, wheaty punch.

But, alas, brunch cannot stand on toast alone.

The Good Egg is the morning incarnation of the Pepperclub restaurant on Middle Street. A recreation of a much-admired breakfast cafe from the 80’s and early 90’s, I give credit to the owners for preserving a Portland tradition.

And, to be fair, it was just one visit.  Maybe I should have tried those Eggs from Hell. Perhaps the multi-grain pancakes are totally mind-blowing.

I’ll give it another try — just not all that soon.

The order counter at North Store Music Cafe

That’s when North Star Music Café captured my heart — and my ongoing business.

It truly is impossible to overstate what a marvelously enveloping environment owners Kim Anderson and Anna Maria Tocci have created on Munjoy Hill. Everything — from the organic mesclun greens in the salads, to the creative daily soups, to the acoustic performers singing onstage – fires on all cylinders.

Sometimes I simply sink into an overstuffed chair cupping that Americano and play a rousing round of Phase 10 with Adam. Other times I cart in my laptop, log onto the free WIFI and spend the entire day working — and working my way through a bagel, then a sandwich, then a glass of wine.

On any given night I know I can stroll in, order a local brew or an herbal tea and sit back for some of the best singer-songwriter’s playing the circuit. I discovered the haunting lyrics of Rebecca Lobie, the powerful pipes of Jenn Grinels and the witty words of John Craigie — all on one November Monday!

Simple and hearty, the menu is more grounded than ground-breaking — but that’s the whole point.  What feels more like home than a heaping bowl of rice and beans topped with avocado, tomato, and Cabot sharp cheddar? Or, a Yellow-Fin tuna salad sandwich with balsamic mayonnaise, tart capers and crisp red onion?

North Star Music Café is a warm welcome disguised as a neighborhood bistro. If you’ve never been, or haven’t been lately, I highly recommend you remedy that.

Late Summer Brunch at The Good Table

During her dissertation I caught the word “marscapone” and knew instantly what I was having. I’m a sucker for the Italian triple-cream cheese. Scrambled with fresh farm eggs, pancetta and spinach – it was marvelous. The accompanying polenta featured a prevalent – but not overpowering – lemon zest. A too-ripe slice of watermelon seemed a bit of an afterthought.

Adam’s Lobster Benedict kept him quiet, which is always a good sign. His one quibble – not enough hollandaise. He never thinks his “benis” have enough hollandaise. Come to think of it, he’s probably right — is there EVER enough hollandaise? His side of breakfast potatoes featured sweets as well as classic spuds, and plenty of herbs. Simple and delicious.

Halfway through our meal, the table on the other side received a steaming hot cinnamon roll the size of my head. The smell alone made me lean to my left and peer closely – probably a bit rudely – at the fresh pastry. It seemed a bit light on the icing, so I queried my neighbors for a review.  “Excellent, excellent, lots of fresh cinnamon flavor,” was the response. Did they feel it lacked in the icing department? Not at all. In fact, they expressed relief that it wasn’t drenched in the stuff like so many lesser rolls.

I know what I’m trying on my next Cape Elizabeth excursion.

“Scratch” made and hearty, the flavorful meat mingles with the requisite carrots, onions and potatoes.  But to break it down to it’s elements wouldn’t do this hash justice. The first time I tried it I was several heavenly bites into it before the secret ingredient dawned on me – thyme!  Lots of it.

Tender, pungent and plentiful, this hash is eye-rollingly good.