Eating out in Portland, Maine? Pretty much the Best Thing Ever.

For my final American roadtrip, Pascoli and I went to Portland, Maine. The only thing I knew about Maine was that it has good seafood, so I vowed from the outset to try and eat the ocean's bounty at every single meal. I love a good self imposed challege and very nearly succeeded. Here's a very quick review of the highlights:

Oven-baked garlic mussels at Fore Street. These plump little parcels of deliciousness caused me to make noises that I would not normally share with a public audience. The sourdough served to mop up the juices just about had me on my knees in worship too. Nicely chewy, proper crust, plenty of wonderful sourdough bubbles. Fore Street is pretty famous in Maine (and beyond), and they recommend booking about five years in advance and putting your hypothetical firstborn down as collateral. But you should totally do what we did: rock up with no reservation and eat appetizers in the lounge. This is food cooked with care and intelligence.

Lobster Roll at Becky's Diner. Imagine your usual lobster roll: finely shredded bits of lobster meat, heavy on the mayo, generic bun. My lobster roll from Becky's blew that shit out of the water. It had two claws full of meat, left intact so you know it hasn't come mass produced from five different crustaceans. Lightly toasted yeasty bun, crunchy iceberg. Becky's Diner is right on the waterfront, and is open at 4am to cater to their fishermen clientele. Totally unpretentious and pretty awesome all round.

Clam Chowder at Gilberts. Another waterfront joint, Gilberts is famous for its award winning chowder. I loved my chowder, but disappointed with my side of oysters, which tasted bland and were a bit heavy on the batter. Still, great chowder is great chowder. Worth a visit.

Sushi at Benkay. We missed out on Rock n Roll Sushi night at Benkay (at 10pm every Saturday they serve sushi along with rock n roll music and a laser light show - holy shit!) but we went for lunch the next day instead. The sushi was super fresh, imaginative, and beautifully presented. The bathroom had a large scale print of a Japanese mermaid getting fondled by a hapless admirer. The soysauce came in tiny teapots. The wakame salad was the best I've ever eaten; lemony, great texture, well balanced, right temperature. Win all round.


I won't give a run down of every crumb that passed my lips in Portland, but suffice to say, if you like seafood (fresh, tasty, and treated with respect) you'll love Portland.

Love, Doris Plum

PS: I'm leaving the States tomorrow! I'll be sure to fill you in on my culinary adventures in Halifax next week though...

Philly Cheesesteak TICK

I recently enjoyed my first authentic Philly Cheesesteak. I was on my way back from a weekend trip to Washington DC, and took a little detour to Philadelphia on the way home to sample this unique American... well I use the term "delicacy" loosely.

For the uninitiated, a Philly Cheesesteak consists of thinly sliced strips of steak and melted cheese in a long roll.

It's been around since the 1930s, with various iterations over the years (it was originally served minus cheese, with chopped steak instead of sliced).

Whilst there are many cheesesteak places in Philadelphia - and indeed, throughout the States - there is a particularly fierce rivalry between Pat's and Geno's.

I chose Geno's, for no real reason at all. It's a hole-in-the-wall style place with bright red tiling, a line-cook who looks like he's spent some time in a local penitentiary, and "We Support Our Troops" plastered across every formica surface. Other gems included: "This is America, when ordering please speak English," and "Land of the Free BECAUSE of the Brave."

Poetic, isn't it?

So anyway, the cheesesteak. I was a bit scared of the Cheese Whiz variety, despite the NY Times calling this canned orange monstrosity "the sine qua non of cheesesteak connoisseurs." I went for the provolone option instead. I was pretty excited about trying out this iconic dish, but... I really can't think of much to say about it.

There was meat. There was cheese. And there was bread. It was well cooked but not imaginatively so. Nor was I expecting it to be. It's a Philly cheesesteak. Ta-da! Ticked off my list. I bet kids *love* these things, they are easy to chew and pretty bland and inoffensive. I think that's part of the reason for the intense cheesesteak love; people have all this nostalgia leftover from childhood cheesesteak experiences.

I'm sorry Philadelphians - it just didn't light my fire. Or as the lovely Sarah Jane would say, "It didn't exactly blow my skirt up." Cheesesteak lovers, please don't hunt me down for saying this on the interwebs. Remember, Philadephia is the city of brotherly love... Hmm? No?

New Years Resolutions - addendum

Quick addendum to last month's post of food-related New Years resolutions: I resolve to eat breakfast every day. Or at least every second day.

Ages ago, Sarah Jane sent me the link to this blog, which I think is super inspiring. Jennifer Causey is a wonderful photographer and she loves breakfast (Are the two connected? Will I become an amazing photographer if I eat my weeties every day?)

I love love love her place settings. It makes me wonder whether it would be fun to match your napkin to your clothes every day. Imagine! Wouldn't it make you feel like one of those super organized people who get up at 5.00am, write a chapter of their novel and do 300 sit ups or whatever? Please note, these aspirations have not made it onto my resolution list. I want to actually KEEP my resolutions this year.

How are your NY resolutions going, my little gingersnaps?

xxxxLove, Doris

A White Christmas

My friend John has a penchant for white food.

Mashed potatoes, vanilla icecream, whipped cream, tapioca pudding. If it's pale and mushy, you can count him in. If it's sweet, even better. I was staying with John and his partner Richard (two of my all-time favourite people) in New York over the Christmas holiday, and my parents flew over from New Zealand to see me. Mum is a master of making this iconic New Zealand dessert called a pavlova - a white dessert! - so I thought I would take the opportunity to learn how it's done.

Pavlova is a meringue cake; it's kind of crunchy on the outside and has a marshmallowy centre. The whole thing is covered in whipped cream, and normally you would put a tart fruit on top (say, kiwifruit or strawberries) to offset the sweetness. For my friend John though, fruit of any kind would only serve as a blemish on the horizon of this vast white landscape of cake, so I made mine au naturel. Back home, a pavlova is always made in summer because winter is too damp to sustain decent egg-whippy volume. You want your beaten eggwhites BIG, like Lynn of Tawa's hair (that was an in-joke for the kiwis). Anyway, here in the States the winters are much drier so feel free to try this out right now.

The pavlova was of course named after the ballerina Anna Pavlova, who toured to New Zealand and Australia in 1926. There is no evidence to suggest she ever ate the dessert named in her honour. I have read that she was rather fond of roast beef sandwiches, so perhaps dessert was not her thing. In any case, here we have it:

3 egg whites
1 teaspoon vinegar
1 teaspoon vanilla essence
1 cup castor sugar
3 teaspoons cornflour

• Preheat oven to 150°C (or 300°F).
• Beat egg whites until the form stiff peaks. Use an electric beater because otherwise your arm will drop off.
• Stiff peaks a-go? Ok. Add castor sugar very gradually while still beating. This should take about ten minutes all up, and the end result should be smooth and glossy. Mine sort of looked like a Mikala Dwyer sculpture, it was just gorgeous.
• Slowly beat and add vinegar, vanilla and cornflour.
• All mixed in? Ok. Spoon it out onto cooking paper on a tray. It should be a pile of sludgy white glory about the diameter of a dinner plate.
• Bake for 45 minutes, then open the door and leave to cool in the oven.
• Whip your cream, pile it onto top, decorate with fruit and there you have it.

It doesn't keep long, which isn't normally a problem. John devoured about three slices of the stuff in one sitting, which I think is a stunning endorsement for this pav. Try it out sometime this year - it can be one of your new year resolutions. What do you think, my little pumpkins?

Love, Doris