My final stout choices - Sebago and Rising Tide

Let me explain.

My chosen Maine beverage for this joint-blogger post proved an elusive prey. I hunted it at RSVP, Maine Beer & Beverage at the Public Market, Whole Foods, and Downeast Beverage. I even called friends intending to pilfer their coffers. To no avail.

Maine Beer Company’s Mean Old Tom Stout was apparently hiding in the bush (at least from November 9-11).

Aged in vanilla beans with a creamy head and roasty nose, I could just taste it’s coffee-ish, toasty malt in the Orange Chocolate Stout Cake recipe (below) I was borrowing from Evil Shenanigans. Her clever description and love of beer had inspired me. I was convinced Mean Old Tom was just the ticket to make her recipe sing.

Sigh. It wasn’t to be.

After half a day pondering my next move, I plodded back to the store and purchased a special Sebago Lake Trout Stout (aged in bourbon barrels) and *Rising Tide’s Ursa Minor (a weizen stout). I have to admit, in my deflated state I wasn’t giving these nice beers their due. Thirty minutes of searching my kitchen for my 8-inch cake pans put me in an even fouler mood. Apparently they were hiding with Tom. Grumpily, I grabbed the 16-inch sheet cake pan, hastily chose the Sebago and began baking.

Music cranked, measuring cups clanked. I slipped into baking mode and relaxed. Zesting the orange made me particularly happy. Bright fruit tickled my nose as I danced around to Guster and began whisking. A lick of the batter had me hoping again. Bitter notes from the bourbony beer and the sassy citrus blended well. That extra kick of vanilla I was hoping for from Tom became beside the point.

35 minutes in the oven, 10 minutes of cooling and I appeared to have a lovely confection. A nibble from the corner revealed a spongey, moist crumb. Nice.

The cavernous crack in the cake.

That’s when I made a crucial error in judgment.

Focused like a laser on stirring butter into darkness for the Brown Butter Frosting, I called Adam to help remove the cake from the pan per instruction.

Now, Adam’s a great chef, but he’s not a baker and I should have known better than to ask him for assistance. His food is fabulous, but he slams around the kitchen like a bear. Instead of gently prying the cake from the pan, he chose to flip it onto a plate. You can see the caverous split down the middle in the photo (left). At this crucial juncture I knew it would mean dryness, and I struggled not to slug him.

After banishing him from the kitchen and finishing the frosting, I gingerly flipped the cake over into another plate, layered on the icing and cut a slice.

The result? Not bad, but not as I had hoped. The cake was indeed a tad dry from the manhandling and the frosting proved too cloying for my taste. Sweet-tooths would love it, though.

To add insult to injury, that’s when A. called with the news – Whole Foods had just restocked Mean Old Tom.

Drat!

Evil Shenanigans’ Orange Chocolate Stout Cake (Yield 8-10 servings)

Ingredients

For the cake:

• 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 2/3 cup Dutch-processed cocoa powder
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 1/2 cups sugar
• 1 stick (8 tablespoons) butter, melted
• 1 cup stout beer, at room temperature
• 4 eggs
• 1 tablespoon orange zest
• 1/3 cup orange juice
• 1 teaspoon vanilla

For the frosting:

Adding the stout to the wet ingredients

• 1 1/2 sticks (12 tablespoons) butter
• 4 1/2 cups powdered sugar
• 1 teaspoon vanilla
• 1/4 – 1/3 cup whole milk

Instructions

• Heat the oven to 350 F and spray two 8″ cake pans with non-stick cooking spray.
• In a large bowl whisk together the flour, cocoa powder, baking soda, baking powder, salt, and sugar.
• In a medium bowl combine the melted butter, beer, eggs, orange zest, orange juice, and vanilla.
• Pour the wet ingredients into the dry and whisk until well combined and no large lumps of flour remain.  Do not over-mix.
• Divide the batter evenly between the prepared pans and bake for 30 to 35 minutes, or until the cake starts to pull away from the sides of the pan and the center springs back when lightly pressed.  Let the cakes cool in the pan for ten minutes before turning out on a wire rack to cool completely.
• While the cake cools prepare the frosting.
• In a small pan over medium heat brown the butter until it is nut brown.  Be sure to stir the butter constantly.  Allow the butter to cool to room temperature.
• Beat the butter, powdered sugar and vanilla until combined.  Add the milk, a little at a time, until you reach your preferred spreading consistency.
• Place one of the cakes on your serving plate, or board.  Spread 1/3 of the frosting evenly over the cake.  Top with the second cake.  Spread 1/2 of the remaining frosting evenly on the top, making sure you go all the way to the edge, then frost the sides with the remaining frosting.

Blogger’s note: Visit Portland Food Map for a round-up and links to other blogger’s experiences cooking or baking with a Maine-made beverage.

*BTW – Rising Tide recently released a new black ale with smoky notes called Atlantis. Killer!

Standard Baking Company's absolutely perfect almond crossiant

It’s not original, but it is classic: Standard Baking Co.

7:00 breakfast: Morning bun with nuts. Always my choice if I’m there when the door creaks open. Sticky, oozy warm. Nuts still crunchy and pert. A perfect counterpoint to the SBC dark coffee – roasted special by CBD.

8:00 breakfast: Gingerbread. Though available from minute one, the gingerbread (for my money) is best an hour in. Icing top has had time to harden and form a crackly hat, and the moist, dense cake has cooled just enough to let the ginger flavor shine past the sweet. Lovely.

9:15 breakfast: Almond croissant. Don’t even think you’re gonna get one any earlier than this. I’ve learned that hard lesson. My favorite item by a nose, the almond croissant fits best for me as a “sleep-in day” ritual. Sundays more often than not. Arrive a tad past 9:00 and you’ll catch them coming out of the oven – the marzipan center melty from steam. Mass of almonds on top toasty crisp. One bite and you can sense loads of butter charging toward your arteries. But you frankly don’t give a damn.

10:00 breakfast: Chocolate cork. As an early riser, this falls more into the category of “breakfast dessert” or “sweet brunch” for me. Intense chocolate explodes oily rich, yet somehow light on the tongue – miraculously avoiding gumming up in your mouth like so many lesser brownie-ish things. Adam loves the cork and could write odes. If I come back from a stroll to Standard (no matter what the hour) without one, I get a steely stare full of hurt (and a touch of malice).

11:00 breakfast: Cheddar cheese scone. When the time pushes closer to noon, this cheesy, chivey option fits the bill. Not a scone fan by nature, I can’t get enough of Standard’s savory, flaky version. Not always available, I make sure and snag it when I see it.  Back home, perched on my kitchen stool, it’s awesome with a glass of cold milk.

Blogger’s note: Visit Portland Food Map for a round-up and links to other blogger reviews of favorite “Breakfast on the Go” places.

Gotta love the sign at The Thirsty Pig in Portland!

Classico no longer offered “Italian Sausage with Fennel.”

Further research revealed the pasta sauce’s fate. The company had callously yanked it from the shelves – replacing it with the far more pedestrian “Italian Sausage with Peppers and Onions.

A sad, sad development in my book. This was years ago – before Adam and I steered toward homemade – and it still stings.

Why am I telling you this?

To establish just how serious I am about the marriage of fennel and pork. Truly one of life’s great twosomes – like Bogie and Bacall, or, dare I say, Will and Jada.

When I find this divine coupling I celebrate like Princess Beatrice with a new hat.

I chair danced like a fool at The Thirsty Pig.

The Exchange street purveyor of tasty pig parts slings a Sweet Italian that fairly bursts with fennel flavor. Slapped into a hot-pressed Italian roll and piled high with caramelized red peppers – it truly doesn’t get much better than this juicy, herbed-up sausage. A side of cole slaw also satisfies. Crisp strings of carrot and cabbage float in a light mayo puddle – a gaggle of poppy seeds swimming freely.

Adam tends toward the Lithuanian Kielbasa drenched with a tart sauerkraut. Although my local Lithuanian connection arches her eyebrow at the moniker Kielbasa (“for the Lithuanians, sausage is sausage…it’s what you do with the left-over pork”), the fat frank is winning none-the-less.

A tasty Greek Chicken sausage offers a slightly lighter option to the the pork links.

Slightly smoky from its steam bath in Shipyard Export, the kielbasa boasts hints of mustard seed and a hefty dose of garlic.

When I can be wooed away from the Sweet Italian, the Greek Chicken fits the bill with its veggie overtones of spinach and tomato. Topped with a healthy sprinkle of feta and pickled onions, it’s a great lighter option.  But the fowl is a bit drier than the swine, so I rarely diverge.

Links are hand made right here in the Forest City – soon to be made onsite. Menu items include a Veggie Dog, Classic Dog, Apple Chicken, BBQ Banger, and a handful of seafood selections (including a promising looking clam chowder).

While the beer list doesn’t (to my taste) represent the absolute BEST of the Pine State’s brews (why not Marshal Wharf?), it is good.  And, nothing beats sipping one on The Thirsty Pig’s back deck while sucking in a breath of fresh autumnal air as Maine summer slips into Fall.

Here’s hoping this affable, affordable – and very, VERY welcome – bar/bovine cafe stays put in Portland.

The awesome roll at the Brunswick Diner in Brunswick

Then, about a year ago, I watched Adam choke down a far-from-perfect specimen in a place whose name claimed the opposite.

That didn’t help.

So, I stuffed the idea of this state-sanctioned sandwich onto the far reaches of my mental shelf. And there it sat – until a group blogger assignment dusted it off.

When A. requested that we pick a place – I stalled. Prejudice breeds lethargy in me and I didn’t call “dibs” fast enough. By the time I rallied, the Portland area “biggies” had been snagged. Perennial Phoenix “best of” winner Portland Lobster Company, as well as Cape Elizabeth’s Lobster Shack and the venerable Old Port Sea Grill had slipped through my net.

Stories of stomach upset kept me from sampling another local institution. I did try the lobster sandwich at the Porthole, but, in a last-minute flurry of confusion and missed opportunities, I grudgingly (hey – it was already written!) ceded the review to Kate. I did include my photos of the Porthole below, though, and tend to agree with her review’s sentiments.

So – what was a blogger to do?

I got outta town.

Brunswick Diner - $13 (without sides)

Set on the busy intersection where Route 1 bends north from its journey east from Highway 95, the Brunswick Diner itself is an intersection – of cute and crusty. Opened in 1946, it ain’t no retro throwback. It’s the real deal with naugahyde stools, a classic jukebox and locals milling about.

Once featured on the Today Show for its roll, the diner’s been riding the wave ever since. I’d seen the boastful banner (see photo) on treks to the Midcoast, and, being a skeptical soul, decided to put it to the test.

Billy's large lobster roll and sides.

It truly was a revelation. Adam (who demurred from purchasing his own roll due to “a lack of hunger” – always a dubious claim)  practically arm-wrestled me for it in the end. Heavy on fresh lobster (with a healthy amount of the succulent claw) and light on the mayo, it featured a crisp lettuce leaf and a generously buttered, split-top roll toasted to perfection. A seriously awesome sandwich. Simple. A credit to it’s genre. A roll that tempered my biases and made me hanker for more.

So, we tried another at –

Billy’s Chowder House, Wells – $19 (with sides)

Feeling mighty peckish after a photo shoot in York, we sojourned to Billy’s Chowder House in Wells on the way home. I’d spied the joint on Ricchio’s Maine mag list and determined to “go for two.”  It didn’t hurt that Joe had also lauded the cocktails.

Rolling up to the valet (yes – really – the valet) at 5:30, we were shocked at the crowd of cars – until we strolled into the bar. Just about every hair was blue. Ignoring Adam’s snarky comment about our compatriots “getting liquored up before Dancing with the Stars,” I settled onto a stool and was soon sipping a cold one and enjoying a view of the marsh.

Lobster sandwich at the Porthole.

A communal vibe and a lobster roll as big as my forearm (you can opt for a $13 “junior roll” – but why?) made the evening sing. While I missed the lettuce of the Brunswick version and wasn’t quite as enthralled with the bun, the lobster on Billy’s roll was just as perfectly cooked (no rubber here!) – the mayo as lovingly balanced. A crunchy side of slaw (I swapped out the fries) and a pickle elevated the experience.

And, I admit, it probably didn’t hurt that Billy’s early-evening patrons made me feel quite young for a gal in her mid-forties.

Portland Lobster Roll Search

Now a firm fan, I tried one last time today to sample a lobster roll in Portland. Hearing tell of the sandwich at the new food cart, Lindy’s Lunch, I took a sweaty slog the breadth of Commercial Street just now – narrowly missing a downpour. While I spied Eric’s Pizza Express and Jen’s Hot Dog’s, there was no sign of Lindy’s Lunch (at least on a Monday).  I even popped by Monument Square to no avail. Ah well, another time. . .

Blogger’s note: Visit Portland Food Map for a round-up and links to other blogger reviews of local lobster rolls.

Bam Bam bakery's gluten-free, dairy free cupcakes

Unfortunately, my hopes were dashed on the craggy shores of my expectations.

The second Portland Cupcake Throwdown featured another batch of our fair city’s bakers and cupcake purveyors (seven to be exact) – and twice as many bloggers. Joining Kate, Uke and I were Jillian, Rebecca and Vrylena.

In the mix were Scratch Baking Co. (last round’s winner) East End Cupcakes, European Bakery, Aurora Provisions, Sugar Hill and Bam Bam.

Promising entries from Y-Limes Gourmet were ditched due to a tragic meltdown. We held this event a few weeks ago  – when temps crept up into the 90’s – and the heat caused an awful buttercream explosion. By the time we rescued the bakery’s Pink Lemonade cupcake from it’s box, it resembled a vat of boiling Pepto Bismol. Quite a shame. Uke captured the result in her post. For an accurate visual of what the cupcake SHOULD look like, visit Y-Limes’ website.

Overall: While I enjoyed a frosting here and a cake consistency there, I left the event rather saddened. Perhaps it was the humidity. Perhaps the nostalgia had worn off after the first throwdown last November. Or, perhaps I simply expected too much. Whatever the cause, a scan through my notes revealed the phrases  “simply flavorless,” “pasty, plastic film,” and “like a stale devil dog.”

Not a great experience.

East End's bright pink box and spiffy logo.

Sticking with grandma’s old adage about saying nice things, I’m focusing here on the glimmers of positive. For more complete reviews read the other blogger’s posts by clicking on the links above.

Visual Appeal: Both entries from East End were lovely to gaze upon. A thick hat of coconut shavings topped a lime cake and a sexy swirl of milk chocolate capped the vanilla. Presented in a bright pink box with thoughtful cardboard separators, East End wins hands-down for packaging and prettiness.

Cake Appeal: Although the frosting was a tad weak -flavored, European Bakery’s Carrot Cake offered the moistest crumb – with chunks of pure carrot, walnuts and an even grain. Pump the cream-cheesiness up a few notches and this petite pastry would be stellar.

Frosting Appeal: Creamy and buttery – with a dark chocolate wallop and a pistachio whisper – the frosting on Scratch’s entry was a sensual dream. While the cake lacked the sheer perfection of the bakery’s entries last round  (Black Forest Chocolate and Banana Cream Pie), the frosting alone secured Scratch’s spot in my personal Bakery Hall of Fame.

Dietary Restriction Appeal: The gluten-free, dairy-free entries from Bam Bam – while not as fragrant and intense as the offerings from Cakeface last round – were quite pleasant.  We sampled three chocolate cakes with varied frosting – vanilla, chocolate and peanut butter – and I felt all three were solid. While I still struggle with the texture of these cakes, I’m glad a few talented bakers (Bevin at Bam Bam and Jenn at Cakeface ) are providing Portland with vegan choices.

Full Disclosure: The cupcakes from East End were donated.

Give me blueberries any ‘ole day.

Now, I do enjoy some strawberry-ish things. My Nebraska mom-in-law makes a mean strawberry-rhubarb jam (she grows both in her garden) and a snappy strawberry salsa once surprised me at a BBQ. But, when the dictate came down for this month’s blogger theme, I groaned inwardly (and, Adam tells me, also outwardly) and struggled valiantly (yes, really) to overcome my, um, “preferences.”

I marched to the farmer’s market, determined to buy some berries and bite the bullet.

I even took this picture:

Lovely Maine strawberries from the Farmer's Market

But, I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t.

Instead, when this sign caught my eye, I got thoroughly distracted:

Simple recipe for a wonderful summer salad.

I purchased a beautiful batch of curly kale and crisp bok choi, marched back home and made what has fast become a favorite simple summer salad.

Give it a try!

A cone of Mexican Chocolate and Salt Caramel obscures MDI's "Fearless Flavor" tagline on the sign.

Being in the branding biz myself, I am a tad wary of taglines. Too often they grossly overstate – or prove mismatched to the product. So when I first gazed at the sign bedecked with a fierce, spoon-clutching fist and read the claim, “Fearless Flavor” – I raised an eyebrow and muttered “we’ll see.” But Mt Desert Island Ice Cream (51 Exchange Street) didn’t – and continues to not – disappoint.

Many flavors are flat-out fierce (Thai chili, anyone? Chocolate wasabi, maybe?) and some are fearlessly funky.  And I mean that in a good way – not in a “what’s that funky smell” kinda way.

Case in point – The Dude. How often do you find a White Russian-flavored mound of creamy goodness named after cinema’s most famous aging slacker?

Others bring out the fierce in brave combinations of earthy sweet and herb (try the stellar Blueberry Basil sorbet) or simply elegant (the maple and corn meal heartiness of Indian Pudding).

To a scoop, MDI ice cream’s best feature is that it’s not overly saccharine. Sweet yes, but not sugary. The company creates new flavors often – I hear tell of a Danish Blue Cheese Blackberry about to hit town – and avoids the “throw in the kitchen sink” fadiness of that mass-marketed chain from Vermont.

Some flavors celebrate childhood (Nutella), and others rejoice in the pleasures of growing up (Stout with Fudge, Jack Daniels).

My favorite MDI flavors even push boundaries closer to all-out savory. Salt Caramel for instance blends the tang of sea salt with a long-lasting umami richness of a dense cream caramel. I can’t get enough of it.

Much has been made about President Obama’s visit to MDI’s flagship in Bar Harbor last summer, but his choice of scoop (Coconut) is where MDI – for me – misses the mark. It’s pleasant, but lacks a certain lushness and flavor punch.

For the perfect Coconut, stroll around the corner onto Fore Street and enter Gorgeous Gelato.

Blogger’s Note: Visit Portland Food Map for a round-up and links to other reviews of ice cream and gelato joints from bloggers around town.

Paciarino's sign and Adam's photo of the stunning Amalfi Coast

When we lived in the mid-south I was mostly out of luck. Post vacation culinary cravings were never satisfied. Returns from Vietnam and Turkey were particularly harsh. There ain’t no street Pho in Eureka Springs, Arkansas, folks.

But Portland has proven a salve – easing my re-entry from a recent trip to France and Italy. Three places in particular have helped me over the hump: Paciarino, Gorgeous Gelato and Petite Jacqueline.

Just sitting at Paciarino’s bare, blonde wood tables makes me wistful. Shades of creamy gold and robin’s egg blue evoke a crisp Mediterranean morning. A rich, doughy odor wafts from the open kitchen as pasta ribbons curl into existence. Set in front of me, a hearty plate of Tagliatelle alla Bolognese steams with meaty, tomato goodness tinged with garlic, rosemary and cloves. Made from owner Fabiana de Savino’s trusted family recipe, the sauce is pure heaven atop a generous pile of thick, al dente strands.

Next to me, Adam’s “oh man-ing” over fat ravioli pillows stuffed with goat cheese and Vidalia onions caramelized with a touch of fresh sage. A drizzle of extra virgin olive oil glistens on his fork as he stabs chunks of the tender pockets slathered in traditional Pomodoro sauce speckled with fresh ground parmigiano. 

A few days before I’d sampled the Ravioli di Pesce al Pomodoro – packed with local shrimp and haddock. Also stellar. (In fact, everything I’ve ever eaten at Paciarino rings with authentic flavor and fresh ingredients. Try the olivey Maccheroni Paesani or the Spaghetti aglio olio e Peperoncino if you spy these house specialties featured on the restaurant’s signature blackboard.)

We could sit here all afternoon sipping Falanghina (a lemony, crisp Campania white that won over two, seriously committed red addicts), remembering lazy days on the Amalfi Coast, but we have a self-imposed date a few doors up Fore Street.

I’ve written about Gorgeous Gelato before. It was blessing in January – and a Godsend now. It’s astounding how addicted Adam and I became to traditional Italian gelato in just a few weeks. The creamy and fierce dark chocolate is exactly like the glorious scoops I ate all over Venice and it harkens me back. Bitter sweet – both the taste and the memories.

Sigh.

Up next: Petite Jacqueline.

Bless you. You’ve successfully married two of my favorite things in life – beer and coffee – in a union that’s nothing short of brilliant.

Peak Organic Brewing Company's Espresso Amber Ale

I smile when I spy a bottle peeking out from behind the milk. Flush with excitement when I pull it from the fridge. Espresso Amber Ale. It’s my latest crush. Can you tell?

I know it’s been around for awhile, so excuse my “late to the party” gushing. I purchased my first bottle just a few weeks ago and it was a revelation.

When I first popped the cap, a whoosh of coffee aroma set me back on my heels. A deep sniff confirmed it would be intense, and yet the veracity of the roasted espresso still sent me reeling. Sure, I’ve had my share of coffee stouts and porters (and enjoyed them plenty). But, they ain’t nothing like this mahogany gem. How DID you create something so clear and fresh – with a light mouth feel – yet steeped in frothy, malty “latte-like” goodness?

I’m sure the locally roasted beans from Coffee By Design had something to do with it.

Paired with a baguette and the sweet, smooth funk of Jasper Hill Farm’s Winnimere (described in loving detail here), the beer reaches even greater heights. Yeast meets yeast in creamy celebration – and it’s a glorious thing.

So, again. Thank you. I love this beer. I truly do.

- Appetite Portland

The logo alone tells you its great!

My advice? Get thee to the newly opened Gorgeous Gelato (434 Fore Street) and celebrate this balmy bliss with a creamy cold mound of sheer joy. I stopped in yesterday and tasted my way through half a dozen flavors (the proprietor will happily hand you mini spoonfuls to try) and each one was better than the next.

Wicked, wicked good. Or, more appropriately, “Molto, molto buona.” With recipes hauled from their homeland, the husband and wife team are crafting the real deal here. 

I nibbled a lush Panna Cotta, a nutty Pistachio and a few Italian favorites (A chocolate chip-ish Stracciatella and a fruitcake-like Bosco) before narrowing my choices. A rich, eggy Almond tempted me with it’s marzapan-like vigor, but I settled on the sensational Cinnamon.

Not too sweet or potent — but certainly not subtle — the flavor was far from the “red hot” style of so many American ice creams. Instead, it was pure spice.

My only mistake was pairing it with the classic Chocolate. Wonderfully dark and fierce, the intense cocoa strangled the softer tones of the cinnamon. I should have known better!

Made daily on site, Gorgeous’ gelato is whip-soft, fresh and concentrated.

If you question it’s old-world authenticity, simply chat with the owner awhile.  His charming accent (and firm opinions on espresso) will remove any doubt.