I had been meaning to get back up to the Midcoast of Maine for a while, but something was always getting in the way. Timing. A weekend full of my kids’ sports events. When my husband’s 50th birthday plans fell flat—who could have predicted a massive and destructive hurricane in Jamaica right before our trip?—I figured the universe was telling me something and booked a two-night stay.
Before we even got to our hotel, we had a stop to make. I had made us a lunch reservation at 36-seat critically acclaimed spot The Alna Store, right outside of Wiscasset. (Wiscasset is known, by many, for their famed lobster roll purveyors; I had decided to take us in a different direction.) At the Alna Store, we started our meal with a massive sourdough glazed donut, followed by a cod chowder; a salad made from various chicories; and a compelling Cuban sandwich.
Between courses, I roamed the spare aisles of the actual store, which shares spaces with the restaurant, and which is expertly curated with items that one may not need so much as want: high-quality fish sauce, the best vinegars that money can buy, sodas and chips from artisan producers, tiny bottles of this and that, things you want to run your fingers over if you, like me, have a deep and abiding love for all things food.
From there, it was an hour’s drive to the 11-room Norumbega Inn, in Camden, Maine, originally opened in 1886 and is on the National Historic Registry. The Victorian building, with its original wood detailing, pocket doors, and four fireplaces, overlooks Penobscot Bay. It was impossible not to be immediately charmed. My husband and I left our bags in our room, which enjoyed a cozy nook with an expansive view of the water, and settled in downstairs for a glass of sparkling wine and an afternoon in front of the fire with a book.
Maine’s Midcoast is—irrespective of season—a culinary goldmine. For dinner our first night, I had booked us a reservation at Nina June, in nearby Rockport. Open since 2016, the restaurant seeks out locally sourced fish, vegetables, and meat whenever possible (one stunning example from our meal happened to be a dozen petite and briny oysters, some of the best I’ve ever had). The rustic dining room is intimate and warm and, flanked by local diners, it was hard not to feel like we had just been invited to one big dinner party.
We were up early the next morning. The Norumbega offers complimentary breakfast, and it’s a far cry from continental. On the built-in (and meticulously restored) buffet in the front parlor: homemade pastries, a selection of hard-cooked eggs, juices, and toast, and fresh coffee, all served in Tory Burch’s blue spongeware from the designer’s home collection. Each morning, the inn also serves an entrée (that morning, we enjoyed a frittata with a refreshing green salad).
Midcoast Maine has plenty to do, even in bad weather. We headed out to some of our favorite antique shops, stopping first at Antiques Etcetera in Rockland, where we found a massive piece of art that barely fit in the back of our car—but that we knew would be ideal for a strange space on the top of our staircase at home. Sifting through other old treasures, we debated what to take back with us. Milk glass? (No.) A magazine rack with brass wheels for the living room? (Yes.)
By noon, we were hungry enough to head to Lincolnville, where we had gotten word that the recently opened hotel, Camp DeForest, was serving a hot dog menu at their small kitchen and bar. The 14-room retro hotel, outfitted to recall summer camp in the woods (for those of us who went to camp in Maine, a true throwback), boasts Maine at its finest: kitsch and comfort combined into one. Hot dogs are made to order and can be enjoyed with cold drinks right at the counter, along with house-made pickles and kimchi.
That night, after another lazy afternoon reading at the Norumbega, we drove to Primo, in Rockland. Now over two decades old, this legendary restaurant practically defines Midcoast dining, with its farm-to-table ethos and cozy environs; dining at Primo practically feels like dining at somebody’s house. Dinner—yes, there was foie gras—was as delicious as ever.
As our parting gift the next morning, we stopped for the best pastries around, outrageous jam thumbprints and cookies and croissants from Chelsea Kravitz and Christopher Dawson, the owners of The Place, in Camden. The bakery is so popular that orders must be placed in advance; luckily, I had planned ahead. I wish I could say that the pastries lasted until we got home, but we knew better than to waste such fresh good things. We ate them in the car.
