Shunning loud gatherings of nachos and buffalo wings, Adam and I chose to spend Superbowl evening sharing a selection of appetizers at Vignola. On two previous visits we’d been thoroughly delighted by the apps and a bit underwhelmed by the entrees. Perplexed, we vowed to stick with an “all app” approach “next time” (a strategy championed by a foodie friend who swore, “Vignola is all about awesome apps.”).

A heap of greens offered on Vignola's Sunday night prix fixe menu.

Sunday night offerings being meager in Portland, we thought we’d struck upon a quiet way to cap off a busy weekend, enjoy small plates of culinary diversity and avoid shouts of “Who dat!”

Best laid plans and all. . .

With little fanfare, the Dana Street eatery has chosen to offer a prix fixe menu on Sunday nights. $25 for three courses. Take it or leave it. Too tired to move, we took it. The results were — again — mixed.

Options for the first course were two salads and two pizzas — all made for two. We chose the Organic Mista Greens, which came piled high in a creative and crispy mix. Flavorful and full of snap, the greens themselves hit the mark. How can you not love fresh, flavorful greens in February? Sheep’s milk cheese and lightly spiced walnuts added a yin/yang pungent/sweet flair — that is, when you could find them. My beef? Not enough of the cheese and nuts, and barely enough of the Maine honey vinaigrette to qualify as dressing. Beets were listed as an ingredient, but heck if I found a-one. As Adam put it, “That was a nice heap of greens — I just wouldn’t call it a salad.”

For entrees, Adam picked the roasted lamb leg and I chose the pork saltimbocca. An artistic fan of balsalmic reduction and basil oil provided a dense and herby slathering sauce for Adam’s slightly gamey lamb. He pronounced the meat tasty if slightly overcooked. Paired with root veggies and mashed potatoes, it was a satisfying, if uninspired, meal.

The sides were the stars of my pork dish. Salty and earthy, the crispy kale packed a wallop of flavor into a crunchy bit of greens. Mushed into the zesty mound of soft polenta, it was flavorful fun on a fork that completely overshadowed the slabs of breaded pork. Tough, a tad chewy, and not exactly warm, the pork was — lets say — a disappointment.

Crispy kale and polenta were the standout sides of my pork entree.

Perhaps still craving appetizers, Adam and I both choose the savory cheese plate for dessert over the sweet offerings — a mango semifreddo and a chocolate coconut caramel tart (the latter combination screamed “CAVITY!!” to me).

Plopped on a small pile of fennel and greens and topped with a chilled dollop of pear compote, the three cheeses were a smidge too mild for my taste. Adam was happier with the selection, but hardly wowed.

A Bayley Hazen blue was the standout of the trio, providing a dense — almost licoricey — paste that melted on the tongue. A mild white cheddar and an aged Beemster Classic couldn’t compete.

It was a pleasant meal, with lovely service from our waitress Liz, but not at the level we’d hoped.

We’ll try for an “all app” dinner at Vignola again — just not on a Sunday.

Perhaps in deference to Bugs and the memory of Harvey — my friend Faryl’s late pet –  I had not ordered rabbit in years and years. Until this past week, that is.

The rabbit dish at Emilitsa did not live up to the marvelous salad and dessert dishes

Somehow I found myself noshing on two wildly different preparations of the little mammal at two vastly different restaurants: Emilitsa and Sonny’s.

First up was the Greek rustic version at Emilitsa last Saturday. Stuffed with spinach and Greek cheese and served with a raisin and spice-filled couscous, my dish arrived looking pretty and promising. Although cooked to a nice tender texture and not unpleasant in flavor, I found the dish rather bland. My fork kept snaking over and spearing chunks of Adam’s tasty lamb instead.

I also kept thinking wistfully back to the bright, crisp pop of the stellar Greek salad we’d demolished just before-hand.  I stopped eating my main course and held out for dessert. Good thing. The yogurt with honey and stewed fruits was amazing. Dense and tart, the yogurt was the elusive “thick and naturally sweetened” kind never to be found on grocery shelves (at least not in this country).

I also thoroughly enjoyed the smooth Greek red wine we ordered; and the service at Emilista was prompt and attentive without being too invasive.  I’ve read many glowing reviews about the rabbit stew and phyllo-wrapped rabbit appetizer at Emilitsa, so my conclusion is — I simply got the wrong rabbit. Silly me.

My second bunny came bundled in a tortilla and doused with rich mole sauce. The rabbit enchilada at Sonny’s was the most popular entree ordered at our food blogger dinner last night. The writers of The Blueberry Files, Portland Food Heads and Edible Obsessions all had the dish, as well.

The crisp, colorful and delightful Greek salad at Emilitsa

While I loved the mole sauce and the melted Manchego cheese was yummy, I found everything else about my main course to be unbearably dry. The rabbit itself was overcooked, the tortilla tasteless and the accompanying rice parched and brittle. Not a home run.

Other dishes at the table were hits, however. Adam raved about the special pork belly appetizer and A. from Portland Food Map seemed entirely satisfied with his mariscada del noche, a sort-of seafood paella with lobster, cod, and mussels piled on rice. Though the service was rather rocky (Sonny’s is still new and working out the kinks), the atmosphere rocked with a hip, exotic vibe.

I give a big thumbs up to the renovation — but not the rabbit.

Confidently, the waiter issued a throwdown, “These will list high in your top five.” I raised an eyebrow at his aplomb – I had just made clear my deep appreciation for a good bowl of mussels. One more quick scan of the full Five Fifty-Five menu and I took the plunge.

My first visit to 555 was a mussel revelation

Now, it’s not that I expect more from the shellfish dish than most folks. Don’t we all want an ideal consistency and a creative, aromatic broth? It’s just that – too often – restaurants fail to hit the mussel mark. And, the ingredients in this recipe seemed – I don’t know – odd. Pickled cherry peppers, carmelized garlic and chive butter? On mussels? Wouldn’t that be overpowering?

No. It was marvelous.

Served in more of an oily, savory paste than a broth, the mussels were perfectly cooked, perfectly proportioned and outrageously unique. The tang of the pepper and garlic gave the dish just the right amount of heat without overwhelming it.

WAAAYYY different than the classically wonderful Fore Street version (a winning concoction of butter, garlic, almonds and vermouth), the mussels at Five Fifty-Five are now – as our waiter predicted – sitting on my top five list.

In fact, everything about our first dining experience at Five Fifty-Five is tops with me at the moment.

Adam loved the restaurant’s signature Lobster Mac and Cheese (who wouldn’t – hand rolled torchio pasta, shucks certified Maine lobster, artisanal cheese sauce, shaved black summer truffles – duh!) and my Sticky Pig was tender, moist – and very, very large. I snarfed so much of the buttery mound of collard greens, however, that most of the massive chop ended up in my eggs the next morning.

For dessert we couldn’t pass up the intriguingly title “trio of interesting house-churned ice creams.” Ice cream? Interesting? Bring it on. Marshmallow mint (a strangely charismatic combination), rosemary, and cayenne peanut. Yum all the way around.

Our waiter, Ezra, was attentive, knowledgeable and opinionated (just the way I like ‘em), and the entire service experience was top notch. Another server was bringing our entrees when he spied me heading to the loo.  I turned down his offer to hold off on the plate delivery, but was impressed none-the-less. The bar tab effortlessly transferred over and the numberless coat-check went off without a snag.

My first experience at Five Fifty-Five gets a first-rate high five from me.

Lacking the self-congratulatory air so prevalent in trained sommeliers, Bar Lola’s co-owner and wine expert, Stella Hernandez, never misses the mark — at least not to my palate. Often accused of wine snobbery, I’m a pretty tough customer.

A selection of French Chenin Blancs

Her husband’s food makes her job challenging. This welcoming East End eatery features an ever-changing five-course tasting menu and daily specials. No resting on your “favorite vintage” wine laurels here.

If I’m focused only on the wine, I’m a red drinker. Rattling off an opinion about which Pint Noir offers the smoothest finish comes second-nature to me. I rarely even glance at a white. When it comes to food, however, I gravitate – especially here by the sea – to fish and seafood. So figuring out what to pair with my mussels and fresh-caught sole caused me no little consternation. Stella took matters into her own hands.

Casco Bay Mussels with blistered tomato and fennel came with a crisp French Chenin Blanc that released the flavors of the aromatic broth and tamed the shellfish’s briny bite with mineral overtones. I nodded and smiled my approval.

In advance of the sole, Stella slipped me a glass of Napa Chardonnay. A sniff and swallow later, I shuffled a bit in my seat. Not my favorite. Anyone who knows me well has heard my rants about over-oaked Napa wines at some point or another. I held my judgment for the first bite of sole. With a mouthful of the fish I tried again. Perfection. The buttery sauce soothed the oak and brought out the wine’s fruit. The simple white fish, in response, popped with flavor.

Stella simply knows her stuff.

First, let me say that Rob Evans deserves all the accolades. My birthday dinner at Hugo’s was nothing short of spectacular. That said, when your restaurant sits perched on a pedestal boasting a shining, gleaming “sterling” reputation – well, the expectations of your guests run high. Very high.

The gateway to a great meal

My admittedly stratospherically high expectations were almost – just about – very nearly – exceeded. But not quite.

We had, of course, the “works.” Better know as the chef’s six-course nightly tasting menu with wine pairings. Courses three and four – the cod and the duck – were both spot-on, do-a-little-happy-dance-in-delight, successes.

Another stunning dish was the first course of beet-cured salmon belly paired with a fennel and hyssop salad. Got that? Beet. Cured. Salmon. It was inspiring.

Where the meal failed for me was during a strange second course cheekily titled “Deconstructed Chowdah.” Fried bits of clams sat in a bland thyme oil sauce communing with doughy, flavorless potato gnocchi. The wine pairing for this dish, an acidy Saumur from the Loire Valley, was disappointing alone. It truly botched as a pairing – turning flat-out bitter.

Not sure the “deconstructed” trend has legs. Or should.

The cod dish featured succulent, crispy cheeks and a meaty pan-fried belly. But the duck was the night’s winner by a nose. All three preparations were a joy.  A crispy breast nestled on a bed of delicately spiced wheat berries tasted, as Adam put it — his eyes wide — like Fall. A foie gras was melt-in-your-mouth marvelous, and the duck pancetta – perfectly cured with a layer of fatty chewiness – almost defies description.

The fifth (cheese) course was a little lackluster, but dessert was a lovely “crispy cream” of braised pineapple, peppers and coconut milk.

Overall – a truly memorable meal.