Up Stream at the Dogfish
I found myself staring at my Portland-area restaurant list, with a refrain playing: “What should we do for dinner?” I continued to study it for a few long moments, blankly sallow at the prospects. It was as though I knew them all too well, like the bloated cynic sated by unraveled pleasures.
Cooking at home was not in the cards, and dining out in any special way held little appeal. Since I’m not the type who ever skips meals, my wreckage of ennui was palling.
If only there was some neighborhood restaurant that we could slip into, have a decent meal, with a glass of wine or a cocktail, in a place that was comfortable -- if not mildly amusing -- and be home by 8 or 8:30 the latest.
There are numerous choices, of course, in our West End neighborhood. Yet none seemed right. If only there were a kind of grill serving elevated pub fare -- great burgers, succulent steaks or chops, fish, pasta. I wanted simple fare, nothing fancy but well prepared.
Fore Street is probably the ultimate grill, but dining there seemed too serious, if not maddening to get into at the last minute.
Norm’s was a possibility. Great food, creative menu, simple and well done, attractive, casual without being slapdash. Certainly it’s the kind of place that you can enter wearing an LL Bean sweater or Prada -- anything goes there.
Other choices might have been Norm’s East End BBQ or Kathadin, or Local 188 -- all excellent. Even the cavernous Village Café, which might have satisfied the urge to eat and run.
Then it dawned on me. What about the Dogfish Café? I had driven by the restaurant earlier in the day, thinking that I should try it soon. I had gone there a few times when it opened a year ago, and I liked it. For some reason it had escaped my radar.
Here was an exciting notion to have a neighborhood restaurant at last. We got in the car and drove down the hill from the Prom to lower Congress Street. We got the last parking spot in the small, but convenient, space behind the restaurant. I think every restaurant should be required by city ordinance to offer parking -- a necessity in such a city as Portland.
The place was full. I knew several people there. One was one of Portland’s foremost chefs, chowing down ribs and mashed potatoes at the bar. What an endorsement.
We didn’t wait long to get a great corner table by the window. The view from there made me feel like I was part of a movie set in a film-noir classic, with a bird’s eye view of the grim Greyhound bus station across the street and the four dark corners of Congress and St. John ominously glistening under a light rain. Had a trolley or cable car chugged by, it wouldn’t have been a surprise.
The menu offered exactly what I wanted. The basics on the printed menu ran the gamut, with burgers, chops, pasta, ribs, fish, even the ubiquitous quesadillas.
My friend chose an appetizer of fried mozzarella that we would share. I shrugged, sure that those dreaded fried fingers would arrive oozing a sticky, gooey mess of gelatinous cheese.
Instead, a ball of mozzarella was wrapped in a nice, bread-crumb coating that was fried and served in a light and flavorful marinara, with fresh shavings of Parmesan. Delicious.
For main courses, the specials that evening sounded very appealing. I chose the Montreal-seasoned sirloin with mushroom demi glace, served under a tower of fried leeks and a lovely pile of perfectly seasoned mashed potatoes with flecks of chive.
My friend had the ravioli -- an enormous portion -- filled with ricotta, white bean and spinach in a light vegetable broth and a garnish of fresh Parmesan.
My steak was succulent, well-seasoned, good-quality and perfectly grilled and tender.
The raviolis were highly flavorful and very filling.
Our only mistake was to order dessert. It‘s not that they were bad. On the contrary. It was well worth the overkill to savor the sweet rapture of a formidable slice of peanut butter pie, while my friend had the densest cheese cake one could conjure.
What’s so distinctive about the The Dogfish is the attention to preparation and use of fine ingredients. Everything seems well done, highly flavorful, easy on the eyes and moderately priced. The Dogfish, I decided, is where I want to have dinner even when I don’t feel like going out for it.
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