It Ain't Communion

There's this other restaurant in Portland, Grace, that's rather unique. Situated in the husk of an episcopal church, it's away from the noise and crowds and parking dilemmas of the wharf, and they've made great use of the space, at least to a point: shades, curtains, and other edifices make their best attempt at partitioning the cavern into somewhat more intimate apartments. But they look contrived. The overall layout, however, works, with a spacious bar in the nave, and casual seating in the wings. Upstairs houses the serious tables, and the choir room holds their wine storage. So they've got most of it right.

The same goes for the menu. Good oyster selection, and fresh. The foie terrine wasn't actually a terrine, and was overly complex, but the garnishes--raw honeycomb, micro blackberries, dried on-the-vine concords, and marconas made sense. The entrée, blackened flour cavatelli with braised rabbit, peas, ricotta and micro greens worked, yet somehow fell short. Whoever is cooking the rabbit should go on doing so, as it would quickly become America's next white meat. The blackened flour pasta, while interesting, lost it after the first few bites, exhibiting a too-developed charcoal sensibility.

Service was good but, like everything else, green. No help on the wine (we got a bottle of Bourgogne Chardonnay). I'd check it out again...in a few years.

If any publication out there is looking for a food reviewer, give a call. Have seasoned palette, will travel.