The Porthole

The year 2000 was a big disappointment to me. When I was in elementary school every type of media promised big things. Flying cars, robot servants and the possibility of time travel. Well my vehicle does not leave the ground, I still have to do my own laundry and I have not yet visited the Jurassic period.

The unique thing about living in Maine however, is the fact that depending on where you visit it is like having your own time machine. There are different parts of the state that make you feel like you've stepped back in time. The Porthole on Custom House Wharf is in one of those "time rifts".

Just standing outside of the place makes you feel as if you're back in days of old when briny, seasoned fisherman and sailors ruled the port instead of rowdy drunken frat boys. Looking at it from the outside tells you that not much has been done since the place opened decades ago.
Walk inside and you are definitely transported to the early part of the last century. It appears that every stool, chair table and even the counter is original. This has been one of our favorite spots in Portland, partly because it is "authentic" from the decor to the surly waitresses right down to the down-home honest cooking. On a good Maine day you have a great deck overlooking the harbor. A wonderful way to spend the afternoon with a plate full of mussels, a cold draft beer, good friends and a live reggae band on Sundays.

It came as no surprise that Denae wanted to come here for Mother's Day brunch. We arrived around noon and immediately got a table. The staff looked like they had just gone to hell and back and certainly acted like it. Let me start by saying that the service here is spotty. Sometimes great and sometimes a bit sub par but it's usually made up for with a charming personality. Today was an exception. The service was horrible. I understand that Mother's Day is the busiest day for a restaurant, but by the time we got there things had settled down to an even keel and not much different from the dozen or so other times we've eaten there. I was baffled. As always I like to make light of a situation and when dining with kids one can often find ways to entertain.

The food that day was a little dissapointing as well. One of the big reasons we go there is for the Haddock sandwich. Normally this is one of our favorites. A guilty pleasure of fried haddock on a fresh housemade Foccacia bread with handcut fries. Not gourmet but good honest food. Today the fish was smaller and the bread which is normally chewie with a slight crispy texture seemed undercooked. The fries though were a solid ten as always!

The Breakfast Club ( a local group of food bloggers not the 1980's angst ridden teens of the movie) would attest that homefries are the cornerstone of a good brunch. At least these didn't disappoint. Crispy golden on the outside yet tender and billowy on the inside. The true stand out on a plate of steak and eggs. The over medium eggs were well....over medium eggs. The steak however, was ordered medium. It came out rare...bloody rare! My favorite mind you, but a nightmare to the 11 year old boy who ordered it. The odd part is the fact that despite being severely undercooked it tasted burnt. Either the char-broiler rack hadn't been cleaned properly or someone had taken a lit piece of charcoal and drew the grill lines on the steak. It was so overpowering that even 1/2 a bottle of A1 couldn't mask the horrible bitter burnt taste.

Being in the restaurant business for so long I know we all have bad days every now and then. So to have 1 bad experience after 12 or so visits isn't so bad. I hope this isn't a consistent theme for them because until I get my time machine I will still go back to The Porthole.