19-05-2025
What to eat in Portland, Maine
This article was produced by National Geographic Traveller (UK).
'Oyster farming used to be really male dominated,' says Amy Gaiero. 'But that's starting to change. I'm noticing more women out here working on the water.' The morning air is still so crisp that her words produce a cloud of mist over the shiny aluminium barge as we chug towards Nauti Sisters Sea Farm: a small but mighty micro-oyster venture where Amy and her sisters Alicia and Chelsea cultivate shellfish destined for Portland's white-tablecloth restaurants.
Fresh out of college, Amy isn't your typical marine farmer: she's young, female, sporting on-trend outdoorsy gear and — ironically — is allergic to shellfish. Yet, reeled in by the promise of harvesting low-impact, hyper-local food, the plucky fisherwoman has found her unlikely calling in life. Downing anchor at Nauti Sisters' offshore sea farm, a grid of 24 floating racks, Amy hauls up a dripping oyster cage, expertly shucks one open and ceremoniously baptises it with a splash of cucumber-melon infused vinegar, poured from her handy hip flask.
I down it in one slurp: the meat briny, faintly sweet and rudely plump, thanks to East Coast oysters beefing up for winter. 'Eastern oysters are unique, as they go into hibernation because the Atlantic Ocean gets so cold. While this means they take longer to mature — between 18 months and three years — they're much tastier as a result,' the seafarer enthuses, as we glide back through Casco Bay to shore, shrieking seagulls hovering above like white kites in the sky.
Passionate small-batch farmers like Amy are bountiful in Portland, the cultural hub of Maine set on the island-strewn New England coast. For a US city, it's a relatively small one. Eastbourne in the UK has more residents, for example. Yet when it comes to gastronomy, Portland very much holds its own against the likes of Boston and Philadelphia. A winning formula of working waterfronts, a tight-knit community of farmers and a crop of creative chefs have all provided fertile ground for Portland's thriving food scene to take root.
Stepping off the salt-sprayed boat in the satellite port town of Yarmouth, I journey south towards the buzzy dining rooms of Downtown Portland, passing white clapboard and cedar-shingled homes along the way. Arriving in the Old Port district, the redbrick facade of Fore Street restaurant looks rather industrial and imposing from the pavement. But inside the former warehouse, it's a hive of activity — line cooks prepping in the bustling open plan kitchen and the tantalising scent of warm dough rising up from the basement bakery below.
In the eye of the storm stands owner Sam Hayward. With a clipped grey moustache and a knitted jumper, he has the easy manner of someone at the top of their game. Known as the godfather of Portland's farm-to-table dining scene, Sam opened his pioneering restaurant back in 1996. 'I was in the right place at the right time,' he says modestly, easing into a leather chair, coffee cup in hand.
Having arrived in New England at the tail end of the 1970s, the self-taught chef spent a couple of years living in a rural hippy commune, where he witnessed first-hand that change was on the horizon. Unable to compete with large-scale Midwest production, a generation of farmers abandoned their homesteads which were replaced by a surge of younger growers with a more utopian vision.
'Looking in the rear-view mirror, what I'm really describing is the back to the land movement,' Sam reflects. 'An innovative agricultural community had emerged, with self-sufficient farmers who were interested in countercultures.' Add local fisheries harvesting lobster, scallops and finfish into the mix, alongside one of the country's oldest farmers' markets, and there were all the ingredients needed for a culinary renaissance, Sam explains, as a crate of freshly harvested greens is delivered to the restaurant's entrance behind him.
In 2004, Fore Street put Maine on the culinary map when Sam became the state's first chef to see a coveted James Beard Award pinned to his starched white apron. More than two decades on, his kitchen still dazzles, serving wood-fired Maine mussels, turnspit-roasted chicken and vegetables so meticulously sourced that Sam selects them from a farmer's seed catalogue each season.
'There's this constant back and forth with the growers that feels quite experimental,' he says, sunlight flooding through the dining room's large bay windows. 'It's a dialogue that was absent when I worked in kitchens in larger cities such as New Orleans and New York.'
I leave Sam and his crew to their daily service rush, and venture along the cobblestone waterfront for a few blocks, passing the swirling sky-blue sign of J's Oyster, a vintage, no-frills seafood joint where celebrity chef Anthony Bourdain once indulged in buttery clams. Nearby, a queue is forming outside The Holy Donut, a cult classic serving warm potato doughnuts with far-out flavour combinations including bacon cheddar and a whiskey cocktail-inspired old fashioned.
Across the street, I duck into Harbor Fish Market, a ramshackle wharf relic from the 1800s that's beloved by tourists and Portlanders alike. Inside, shelves strain under the weight of glistening wild blue mussels and silver-skinned whiting, while water tanks ripple with feisty lobsters. I spot a cluster of Nauti Sisters deep cup oysters, crowning the ice at the shellfish bar, a delicacy that only that morning I'd watched Amy heave from the depths of the ocean.
For the grand finale, I make my way to Portland's latest sushi spot, Mr Tuna. Decked out in soft pastel hues, with potted houseplants scattered throughout and neon signs on the walls, it's the kind of stylish hangout that's been lighting up Instagram feeds since it opened in May 2024 (although the venture actually began life as a food truck in 2017). But it's the tide-to-table seafood that's really making waves here.
At the blonde wood bar, chef-owner Jordan Rubin, long black hair swept up in a high knot, slides over a plate of Atlantic bluefin sashimi. Tender slivers of tuna, as smooth as Turkish delight, dissolve luxuriously on my tongue. It's unlike anything I've tasted, I tell him, to which he nods knowingly. 'You're not the first to be amazed by the freshness,' he says, recalling a recent two-night pop-up with renowned Japanese chef Norihito Endo. 'He was stunned by the quality of Maine's seafood. Some of it's even better than what he gets back in Japan,' Jordan marvels.
As I savour my next course — a Maine crab maki roll daubed with yuzu mayo and swaddled in pillowy rice — Jordan reflects on how tastes have evolved over the course of his 20-year career. 'It used to be tough to convince people to try something like sea urchin. Now, they actively seek it out.' In winter, he serves it in a hand roll with fresh wasabi and a dash of soy. 'About 80% of our menu is caught locally, so it's constantly changing with the seasons,' he adds.
Like Sam at Fore Street, Jordan swapped the fast pace of a big city for the quieter charms of Portland, a decision that's clearly paid off. As I round things off with a miso caramel ice cream toastie — sweet and salty flavours woven through the creamy texture — he explains why the move was so rewarding. 'Portland's special,' he says. 'Instead of big chains, it's all independently owned restaurants, which creates a strong sense of community. Everything here just feels more collaborative.'
I take the scenic route back to my hotel, passing the warm glow of dining rooms filled with patrons enjoying fresh-off-the-boat lobster rolls. Don't let the city's size fool you; in Portland, I've discovered a food scene that could go fork-to-fork with any of the US's culinary heavyweights.
Published in the May 2025 issue of National Geographic Traveller (UK).To subscribe to National Geographic Traveller (UK) magazine click here. (Available in select countries only).
