“If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a much merrier world.”
This quote, from J.R.R. Tolkien and written on the dining room wall at Five Fifty-Five in Portland, set the tone for the evening, and because I was dining on the 39th anniversary of Tolkien’s death, it also seemed oddly symbolic.
Much has been written about Five Fifty-Five and owners Steve and Michelle Corry since the restaurant’s inception. With every award, both regional and national, that chef Steve wins for his food and every accolade Michelle receives for her extraordinary hostess skills, Five Fifty-Five’s position as the darling of Maine’s high-end dining scene becomes more and more fixed. I was eager to visit.
My husband joined me, but as a fan of good but unfussy food, he was initially put off by the menus I’d researched online. “Why call it an emulsion?” he asked, and with a puckered face, “Flavored foam just doesn’t sound good to me.” I bought credibility not by citing Five Fifty-Five’s recent honor of “most romantic restaurant in Portland,” but by sharing Steve Corry’s roots as a beer guy and the Corry family passion for dog rescue.
Mollified but skeptical, my husband put on dress pants. He needn’t have bothered, because we entered the establishment via the Point 5 Lounge, and the bar area welcomes patrons with warm lighting and a decidedly unfussy sensibility. (Nice jeans would have been fine.)
Just left of the hostess stand, the adjoining dining room is darker with a more subdued and ordered construction. With straight lines and right angles on each of its two levels, the setup is unquestionably formal, but not at all stuffy.
Upon arrival, I pointed to what might be the tiniest restaurant kitchen in Maine, where Corry and his team stood shoulder to shoulder, clearly visible from the table.
“See,” I said, noting their matching ball caps, “he’s a regular guy who happens to cook.”
That is an epic understatement, but more in a moment.
Trained at Napa’s French Laundry and Domaine Chandon, the Corrys’ attention to service shines. Michelle is the hostess extraordinaire, and her entire team of impeccably dressed (all in black) servers took care to refill our glasses, answer questions and make unobtrusive suggestions.
When I asked for very basic information about an unfamiliar wine, the server was knowledgeable, not intentionally condescending, and questioned me about my personal tastes. She did her best to match-make; the result was outstanding, and Bourgeuil now tops my Loire Valley favorites list.
The recommendation — a very reasonably priced Domaine de la Chanteleuserie Cabernet Franc ($36) — tasted earthy, young and accessible (not at all resembling the big California Cab that I thought I wanted), and I enjoyed every perfect sip. Bonus for the winemaker’s (translated as “where the larks sing”) label with a Thomas Jefferson label quote: “Good wine is a necessity of life for me.” I agreed wholeheartedly.
Now for the food. (And, oh, the food!) The menu separates by plate: Small, green, savory, cheese and sweet. Think appetizers, salad, entree and dessert. The eponymous cheese plate is artisanal cheese.
In addition to the standard menu, $60 buys a five-course tasting spree that changes seasonally, and we each chose the tasting option to see what Corry would capture with the last of the summer splendor.
The first course, Chilled Heirloom Tomato Soup, included a lone gulf shrimp, the aforementioned dot of arugula and herb emulsion, and a confit of fennel. While the chilled soup was not to my husband’s taste, he acknowledged its evident high quality and admired the presentation that recalls abstract Cubist styling. I, however, loved the soup’s impossibly smooth texture and robust set of flavors.
For the second course, we chose Bangs Island Mussels and Summer Tomato Salad. The mussels, with cherry peppers, golden garlic and chive butter, tasted savory and delicious, but I want to especially laud the salad with local tomatoes and house-made mozzarella. The “broken blossom vinaigrette,” Maine sea salt, and fresh basil turned this plateful of color into no ordinary Caprese.
I don’t know if I have ever tasted a mozzarella so perfectly kneaded, with the slightest buttery taste and smoothest possible texture. The Maine sea salt and three basil leaves enhanced the flavors, and I encourage patrons to request any dish that includes Five Fifty-Five’s house-made mozzarella.
We both very much enjoyed the two mammoth pepper-crusted New England scallops, whipped fennel potatoes, butter glazed beans and organic baby carrots in — yes — another emulsion, this time vanilla. By the time we finished the scallops, though, Travis noted that my bribe to treat him to a post-dinner burger if he did not enjoy the meal was unnecessary; he became a Five Fifty-Five convert.
After hearing about Corry’s legendary truffled lobster “mac and cheese,” I am delighted to report that the butter-poached Maine lobster and torchio pasta, blended with cheese, white truffle oil and the best — shaved black truffles — did not disappoint.
The torchio pasta (shaped like the base of a torch) is designed to hold weighty, substantive sauces, and is equally well-suited to chunks of fresh lobster. Worth noting for truffle fans, this dish did not rely on tiny shaving specks, but, rather almond-sized slivers, and my truffle-loving heart was happy.
The artisanal cheese course was a lovely supplement with seasonal fruit compote, crostini and candied nuts, and it arrived like a well-paced musical ensemble, leading to the crescendo of dessert (and what a dessert!), chocolate five ways and a blueberry turnover.
Rather than embrace the deconstructionist trend, the pastry chef’s blueberry turnover was, in fact, an actual turnover, a crescent of fine pastry wrapped around a jammy filling and served alongside a scattering of wild Maine berries and small scoop of ice cream.
The chocolate five ways was also refreshingly direct: Truffle, candy, mousse, cookie and syrup. Direct, yes. Simple, no. The syrup, a chocolate balsamic gastrique, was especially noteworthy, but all aspects of the dessert were elegant — each layered with flavor and texture, and all extremely tasty.
When I tried to get an accurate read on the night’s clientele, it was tough. Patrons ranged from young parents with a remarkably quiet baby to elegantly dressed date-night couples and a large family whose ages spanned from teenagers to folks in their 60s. (Of note, the staff kindly and discreetly brought the older gentleman a pair of reading glasses when he struggled with the menu.)
Which, fittingly, brings me back to the initial Tolkien wisdom written on the wall. Five Fifty-Five offers good food and cheer, and every table seemed merry in its own individual way. But be warned that the experience will cost a bit of hoarded gold. That noted, the experience is well worth it.
Five Fifty-Five is Manhattan-style dining with a Napa Valley sensibility, crafted especially for Maine’s food-loving community. The price point might make a Five Fifty-Five dinner a special-occasion experience, but the brunch and bar menus are absolutely accessible. (Oyster Thursdays include $1.55 raw oysters, as well as drink specials.)
And who doesn’t enjoy a good splurge?
Shonna Milliken Humphrey is a Maine freelance writer and author of the novel “Show Me Good Land.”