Anna Ginn, center, eats with her family at Thames Landing on an evening in late October. Ginn said she lives nearby and is a regular at the new Portland restaurant. Brianna Soukup/Staff Photographer

In my twenties, I went shopping for a tuxedo with a former French haberdasher. To me, all formalwear looked alike. But not to him. After a few hours of sighing and tut-tutting as we slid jackets from their hangers, I started to see what he meant when he told me, “All the parts can be there. Sometimes they look OK, too. But when you pay attention to what’s holding them together — the stitching, the interfacing, the lining— you can tell who is thinking about quality. And quality is built to last.”

I haven’t bought a suit in six years, but I think about my friend’s guidance often, because it holds true for more than clothing. Restaurant dining falls under this rubric. Sure, I love a good visual, a soft-focus Instagram photo of a sizzling platter or a comely parfait, but the real story of a restaurant always hides in the connective tissue that links food, service and atmosphere.

I’ve been thinking about that suit-shopping experience and its lessons after my recent meal at Portland’s Thames Landing. Described on its website as “an upscale casual restaurant serving classic New England fare…” this waterfront newcomer occupies the corner address vacated earlier this year by Helm. As my dinner guest and I slipped into our seats at a two-top near the entrance, we placed our drink orders and, confronted with the major déjà vu of being in a dining room we both once knew well, immediately began to solve an impromptu Spot the Difference puzzle.

A Thames Landing Martini and a Whiskey Smash. Brianna Soukup/Staff Photographer

For the most part, co-owners Renae and Mark Roy (both co-owners of the fast-casual Navis Café next door) haven’t futzed around with the dapper, already inviting space. A few sips into a citrusy, well-equilibrated Whiskey Smash ($12), my friend picked up on a change. “Wasn’t there something over there?” she mused, pointing at the now-vacant real estate where an oyster station once stood. “And what about there?” I asked in reply, setting down my too-sweet, too-floral Thames Landing martini ($14), as I gestured toward the front window where an entire banquette had been removed to expose floor-to-ceiling windows.

Practical alterations like these are hard to take issue with. Others work against the goal of making the dining experience feel “a little heightened,” as Renae Roy described it. Case in point: a practically naked mirrored bar whose sparse population of glassware and bottles telegraphs Prohibition-era scarcity. Or the large-format, canvas reprint of Arthur Getz’s 1958 New Yorker cover (of a man painting a lobster on a restaurant wall) that corresponds to no other design element in the space. Taken together, they make Thames Landing feel a bit like a hand-me-down.

A medley of Thames Landing dishes: Deviled eggs, salt cod croquettes, autumn salad and Statler chicken. Brianna Soukup/Staff Photographer

Perhaps the something-borrowed vibe will fade once Thames Landing assembles the four plexiglass outdoor dining “hyperdomes” it plans to install on the patio, allowing for another three dozen al fresco seats: ideal for when the weather turns especially “fresco.” If nothing else, I’ll be tempted by the unique opportunity to nibble on chef Jonny Thayer’s (Foreside Tavern, Thoroughfare) crisp, perfectly fried, gluten-free salt cod croquettes ($12) in the stark white gleam of ice and snow.

“Looks like you enjoyed the croquettes,” our cheerful and knowledgeable server remarked as she took the empty dish away. “Those take Chef a long time (several days of soaking the cod in both water and milk, it turns out). They’re my second-favorite thing on the menu.”

The Statler chicken at Thames Landing. The dish gets its name from the old Statler Hotel, today the Hilton Boston Park Plaza. Brianna Soukup/Staff Photographer

Between bites of undersalted deviled eggs ($7) garnished with chives and tart, house-pickled mustard seeds that pop like boba, I had to find out more: “Come on, don’t leave us hanging! What’s your favorite?”

“The Statler chicken ($28)! I’d eat it every day if I could,” she replied, holding pen to pad as if to ask, “Can I put you down for one?” Yes. Absolutely. The still-connected leg-and-boneless-breast that makes up the “airline supreme” or “Statler” cut is also one of my faves. What’s not to love about a little dark meat drumette to go with a skin-on breast?

Thayer’s juicy, oven-braised version does the Statler justice, pairing tender meat with a lush rosemary butter sauce. If only the sides were as successful. Sautéed garlic spinach arrives undersalted, while a chunky sweet potato cake is at once both undersalted and overseasoned with seasonal warm spices that veer dangerously close to Pumpkin Spice Latte territory.

Elsewhere on the menu, flavors are generally appetizing and well-balanced, even when execution occasionally lets a dish down. One example is the chocolate panna cotta ($8), an indulgent dessert of Callebaut chocolate and cooked cream topped with a homemade caramel sauce and Maldon salt. Had the kitchen used half as much gelatin, this would have been light and silky, not rubbery, with a thick skin.

Lamentably, the panna cotta’s stumble isn’t the worst I encountered on my recent visit. Both my dinner guest and I were perplexed and disappointed by the lobster risotto ($28), a special that evening. We both searched through the nest of arugula and shreds of king oyster mushroom and could not locate a scrap of lobster meat. Worse still, the arborio rice was not slow-simmered to a creamy brothiness, but parched and brown, with the consistency of Rice-A-Roni.

When I interviewed Thayer last week, I felt a little guilty, knowing I had to be honest about his risotto in this review. At least, I thought as he and I chatted about his recent transition from back-of-house deputy to head chef, I had plenty of praise for his autumn salad ($15). Here, the kitchen roasts delicata squash until caramelized and tender, then stacks it in half-moon slices atop a generous mound of green leaf lettuce dressed in a harmonious apple cider vinaigrette. A shower of pepitas, crumbled fresh goat cheese and crisp shards of fried sweet potato finish the dish and contribute plenty of crunch and salt. It’s a simple enough salad, but executed with the precision and care of a skilled chef.

If I were a betting man, I’d wager that with enough time — perhaps a sleepy winter season where the majority of customers are Portland locals eager to share their feedback — Thames Landing will find a way to create something cohesive from the high-quality component parts it has on hand. The rapidly developing waterfront needs a few solid mid-priced dining options, and it benefits everybody if they’re both attractive and built to last.

Looking in to Thames Landing through the floor-to-ceiling windows out front. Brianna Soukup/Staff Photographer

RATING: ***

WHERE: 60 Thames St., Portland, 207-805-1110, thames-landing.com

SERVING: 11 a.m. – 9 p.m. Monday,  11 a.m. – 9 p.m. Wednesday-Friday, 10 a.m. – 9 p.m. Saturday & Sunday

PRICE RANGE: Appetizers and salads: $11-$21, Entrees: $20-$48

NOISE LEVEL: Crowded elevator

VEGETARIAN: Some dishes

RESERVATIONS: Yes

BAR: Beer, wine and cocktails

WHEELCHAIR ACCESS: Yes

BOTTOM LINE: One of the biggest surprises in Portland’s food scene came in July, when the family behind the reliably great fast-casual, breakfast-and-lunch spot, Navis Café, took over the chic, glass-walled space recently vacated next door. Shifting gears from sandwiches and soups to Wagyu filets and mussels in white wine is no easy task. After nearly four months in business, Thames Landing is finding its feet, albeit slowly. The restaurant’s owners, Mark and Renae Roy, made some wise choices early on: They retained most of the elegant design of the dining room, hired restaurant veteran Jonny Thayer to oversee the “modern New England-style” (and largely gluten-free) menu, and brought on servers who are engaged and gregarious. It may take some time before Thames (which rhymes with “frames”) Landing becomes a fully integrated whole, however. Conspicuous flaws from underwhelming art and a desolate bar to a few dishes that need substantial tinkering, hold the restaurant back. If you visit, order the expertly fried salt cod croquettes, the autumn salad, and perhaps the Statler chicken. And if you’re lucky enough to drop by in the winter, try to score one of the 36 seats in Thames Landing’s new heated, plexiglass “hyperdomes” that allow for a cozy outdoor nosh, even in winter.

Ratings follow this scale and take into consideration food, atmosphere, service, value and type of restaurant (a casual bistro will be judged as a casual bistro, an expensive upscale restaurant as such):

* Poor
** Fair
*** Good
**** Excellent
***** Extraordinary

The Maine Sunday Telegram visits each restaurant once; if the first meal was unsatisfactory, the reviewer returns for a second. The reviewer makes every attempt to dine anonymously and never accepts free food or drink.

Andrew Ross has written about food and dining in New York and the United Kingdom. He and his work have been featured on Martha Stewart Living Radio and in The New York Times. He is the recipient of eight recent Critic’s Awards from the Maine Press Association.

Contact him at: andrewross.maine@gmail.com
Twitter: @AndrewRossME