As much as I long for New York bagels and pizza, the same can be said for Portland’s pre-pandemic restaurant scene. Sure we were once considered the restaurant city of the year (2018) when Bon Appetite’s bestowal proclaimed us as the best small town/city for dining in the nation. Yet post pandemic it’s a mixed bag of regrettable losses (Drifter’s Wife, Piccolo, et al) tempered by merely a few denizens of the exotic lacquered worlds of food and dining. Some of the new ones are not up to snuff and others go relatively unnoticed for a variety of reasons (Knotted Apron and Broken Arrow are examples). My advice: If you’re planning on opening a restaurant check all the boxes before asking diners to spend $100 for a mediocre meal. Of course we want to support the local economy, and perhaps no other industry has had a tougher time than restaurants. But, hey, if you’re offering more than diner food (which I love), it behooves chefs to do it extremely well. That goes for the dining space environment, too. The space has to be Covid preventive (spacing and masks and proof of vaccination ) and beyond all comfortable and pleasing to the eye.
Basically, Portland dining is not what is was when it offered so much variety and quality to choose from. When I go out to eat it’s to the same old places because few others beckon as though the proverbial come-hither finger is limp. All understandable from closures, limited indoor seating and hard to get reservations. If it weren’t for outdoor dining options, I’d be sitting at home tinkering with the next chicken thigh recipe. And while take-out is the live-saver for restaurants, tepid take-home food is never as good when it lands on your kitchen counter.
Perhaps it’s my limited time dining out these days: My discretionary income isn’t what it once, and I limit myself to dining establishments in which I feel comfortable. That’s defined by good spacing between tables or good opportunities for outdoor dining and good air filtration systems inside, that sort of thing. The places that I miss the most regardless of pandemic losses, are Five Fifty-Five in its heyday or Caiola’s for its irreverence and delicious food. That and the ability to sit at the bar for dinner –at many places–was always a treat and a preference. With Chaval the replacement mainstay in the West End and a treat to go to, its indoor dining options are still limited with mostly the patio (the prettiest in town) and sidewalk dining on the ticket. Their bar was the best one in town besides Fore Street.
As for post Pandemic dining, are we really “post?” See this remembrance.
The bar flanked by dining room
So along came Wayside Tavern. The few dishes we had were very good chosen from a menu that’s way too limited. Sure it had the requisite categories of one each of fish, pasta, chicken, pork and beef. Two of the five dishes we tried were truly original: the chicken–a dish of roast chicken parts set atop toasts and bathed in ricotta, golden raisins and pine nuts. Nothing else adorned the plate but the chicken itself was deeply satisfying. I’m old school dinner-plate composition. I like a green vegetable side with my main course and potatoes and glazed carrots with peas wouldn’t hurt either. Otherwise known as “plus three.”
Roast chicken
The other dish that was spectacular was fois gras truffles soaked in maple almond jelly “croccante,” a version derived for an Italian caramelization of its ingredients. It was as delicious as the ultimate earth-bound Mars bar. I could have had a double order. It had all the elements of taste and texture working in tandem.
Foie gras truffles in red pepper sauce
That said, the room devoted to dining space at the Francis Hotel has never quite made it stylistically. It should have been gutted and put back together. Its best iteration was as Bolster, Snow–a fine restaurant if not lusted after by comparison to the others that followed. Its chef, Nick Verdisco ,was so talented and accomplished.. He’s now at the Falmouth Country Club trying to liven up local favorites. Flood’s intrusion was a nonevent (and short-lived), surprisingly so given its provenance of restaurateur-ship (co-owner Palace Diner). But they tinkered with the interior to limited success. There were two good dishes on the menu: braised tongue with frizzled leeks and their giant chicken schnitzel–very crisp–without an iota of moistening other than the waitresses suggesting hot sauce. After that comment I lost total interest in the place.
Maybe that’s the thing. The room–no natter who’s cooking or owns the restaurant–can host only two good dishes at any one time as though deemed by the gods.
Table for 4 around a banquette and 2 chairs and a woman’s sling backs sticking out at the adjoining table
During Bolster’s day, the dining room had an open kitchen flanked by a dining bar. The actual bar was in an adjoining room. In those days the restaurant was part of the hotel. Now the space is leased and closed off from the hotel proper. There might still be a door that allows the inn’s guests to walk into the dining room without going outside to go through the street entrance. I didn’t investigate so I can’t say for sure.
The acoustics were terrible, then and now, with deafening noise. And why do restaurants with nearly nil acoustics think that blaring music will soften the din? That’s’ all still the same. But there was a side room to escape to quieter tables. That is still there but set up as a dining lounge and the bar room is now used for dining. The tables are low and if you do eat there it must be done stooped over. The night we were there the former bar room was reserved for one party of around 12 diners. Is it primarily a private dining?
Still a friend of mine who’s a serial diner thought Wayside “fabulous,” proclaimed without clarification.
Now, the dining room is a desultory amalgam of tables and chairs. The banquette seating along one wall adds some coziness, but the few remaining tables and chairs in the room appear as intruders. I found the tables a little too close for comfort, though more spaced apart than in the old days when you were shoulder to shoulder. The bar is inside the dining room with a row of chairs, very close together, to eat or drink at the bar. God forbid if you get a leg cramp.
These days when local wild blueberries were everywhere (sadly gone) there were a spate of such desserts at area restaurants composed of olive oil pound cakes adorned with various styles of blueberry compote
as though there was a conference of local chefs deeming olive oil pound cake with berries the dessert of summer.
I had my first version at Café Louis (see review), and Wayside’s version took it to the next level: mounds of blueberry compote adorned with whipped cream and nut crumble spread on a sumptuous slice of cake. Great dessert.
Olive oil cake with blueberry compote at Café Louis
And the more opulent version at Wayside Tavern
Otherwise I’m in no rush to go back to Wayside. As a so-called tavern it lacks that essential bonhomie. The room is dull looking, without the visual pizazz of walking into such places as Central Provisions, Fore Street or even Ruski’s. That some of the food is very good means that more should be good too. As for the lackluster interior, decorating budgets are tight and a stretched dollar can only so far.
Wayside Tavern, 747 Congress St., Portland, ME www.waysidetavernmaine.com 207-613-9568
Rating: Some dishes are very good while others not up to snuff; overall it’s middling for reasons already described
Tables: A little too close for comfort
Décor: A tough room
Noise Level: Deafening in main dining room
Service: Good
$$$: Moderately expensive (aren’t they all?)
Parking: On the street, though the undeveloped lot across the street is owned by the hotel and can be used for parking
