The Porthole Restaurant
20 Custom House Wharf, Portland
780-6533
One might say The Porthole Restaurant is the kind of place you’d walk right by, but it’s unlikely you’d be walking by at all unless you turned the wrong way coming out of the Comedy Connection. Hidden away on scruffy Custom House Wharf, off Commercial Street in Portland’s waterfront district, the Porthole’s exterior looks like it hasn’t changed (or been painted) since it opened for business in 1929. But it turns out this waterfront hole-in-the-wall – by all appearances a wayward home for salty dogs and lobstermen – is really a pretty decent restaurant in disguise.
I don’t make it down to Commercial Street very often. The parking usually sucks, and come summer and fall the tourists are thick as the chowder they so desperately want to sample. But some trustworthy friends of ours said we just had to try Sunday brunch at the Porthole, so really, our hands were tied. Venturing out early to avoid the sunny-Sunday rush, we stumbled in about 9 a.m. — ravenous and in desperate need of coffee.
This is when the miracle happened. It’s hard to put a label on it, but let’s call it “service.” I have dined in hundreds of restaurants over the years, from greasy taco stands to five-star, frou-frou, fancypants bistros, and the service at the Porthole rivals the best of them. Not once was my coffee cup empty. The elapsed time between placing our order and receiving our food was barely longer than the Al Green song playing on the radio. Seriously.
Breakfast offerings were mostly standard diner fare – omelets, French toast and the like – with a handful of slightly more exotic choices (i.e. anything caramelized, served on focaccia, or wrapped in a tortilla). Lunch options, including fried fish and steak sandwiches, rounded out the brunch menu. The prices were certainly reasonable, ranging from $3.50 for the standard two-egg breakfast, to $8.95 for corned beef hash or steak and eggs (some lunch items were a bit pricier).
I opted for the housemade sausage wrap ($6.95; above), a plain tortilla filled with an artery-clogging medley of scrambled eggs, cheddar cheese, and huge chunks of salty pork sausage studded with fennel and flecked with red bell pepper. On the side came a substantial pile of crisp homefries — equal parts potatoes and sweet potatoes, liberally seasoned with rosemary.
My wife ordered the corned beef hash and eggs. The hash was a traditional-style, creamy concoction of finely chopped brisket with tender chunks of potato. Her poached eggs, often hit-or-miss, were perfect. Her toast of choice, a warm slice of garlicky focaccia, got rave reviews.
For my two-year-old daughter, the hardest choice was between blueberries, raspberries or cranberries on her buttermilk pancakes. (Ultimately, concerned as we all are about getting sufficient antioxidants in our diet, she went with the blueberries.) Our thoughtful server took it upon himself to order us a kid-sized portion, though it doesn’t appear on the menu. The side order of bacon was thick, chewy and delicious. Unfortunately, the pancakes were a bit tough and tasted of too much baking soda. And be forewarned: real maple syrup is not available at the Porthole at any price. What gives? We’re still in Maine, right?
The atmosphere at the Porthole is really what makes it special. Old-timey signs, a glossy bar/counter, lobster-kitsch and other harbor-related décor are an authentic throwback to a bygone era. On a sunny day, grab one of over a dozen wooden picnic tables on the expansive, ultracasual waterfront patio.
The bottom line: From a purely culinary standpoint, there may be better breakfasts available in Portland, but the combination of comfortable atmosphere and brilliant service makes the Porthole a worthwhile trip.
— Dan Zarin
The Porthole is open Mon.-Sat. from 7 a.m.-2 p.m., and Sunday from 8 a.m. to 2 p.m. Breakfast is served all day.
