Being Stephen Lanzalotta

I am not a baker.

But, you may be aware, I have this cool new wood-burning oven in the backyard, and I just had to give it a try.

Thing is, the idea was to evaluate the oven's bread-making abilities, not mine. And so rather than bumbling through a dough recipe I'd be unfamiliar with, I headed over to the most gifted bread/pizza maker in town and procured a blob of his dough.

Note to local readers: It's Lanzalotta's, from the bakery out back of Micucci, the same dough used for the Sicilian Slab and the Luna bread.

Note to everybody else: Save the indignation over copping out on the dough prep for somebody who cares. I already know I'm a spaz with the yeasty, floury stuff. Why torture myself?

Soon as I laid eyes on the blob I knew I was in good hands. It smelled swell enough to eat, and felt like a wet cloud of puffy, doughy goodness.

Did I mention the new pizza peels I bought? The wood one's for sliding stuff into The Inferno.

And the metal one's for taking stuff out.

I laughed. I cried.

Then I ate the whole freaking thing.

Best eats on Maine's coast

As fall approaches, we here in "Vacationland" (Hey, it wasn't my idea for a slogan!) turn our thoughts to the visitors who follow the turning leaves.

And they are turning already, the leaves. Quickly.

You gotta eat when you're here, right? Okay, here are some ideas.

This is by no stretch the definitive Maine dining guide; in fact, it's pretty arbitrary. For one thing it's focused solely on the coast, and comes to a screeching halt in Camden. That leaves out towns like Bar Harbor, among others, the whole Mount Desert region in fact. I'd recommend driving up there; Acadia National Park is beautiful. I just haven't done much dining past Camden is all. And the dining I have done hasn't left an impression.

There are as many lobster-focused places as I could comfortably include, as most visitors to Maine demand this. And knowledgeable road-food types will note that some big, near cult-like names do not appear here at all: Flo's Hot Dogs in Cape Neddick comes to mind, as does Becky's Diner in Portland and Red's Eats in Wiscasset. I love a good hotdog, but never understood the Flo's thing; the dogs, and their toppings, I think, are drab. Becky's is a friendly enough place; I just don't think the food's anything special. And as for Red's, I never drove by the place when the line wasn't around the corner, and enough people whose opinion I trust insist it isn't worth the wait. (One of them, a budding haikuist, travelled clear from Boston one afternoon just to sample Red's famous lobster roll. She drove home that evening, reliable sources inform me, muttering over and over a single-syllable word that begins with Letter No. 6.)

Sad.

Anyway, I've organized the towns from south (or west if you prefer) to north (east), as the vast number of road warriors would be driving in this direction.

Enjoy your trip.

KITTERY

This is the first town in Maine over the I-95 bridge from Portsmouth, NH. If you're into the outlet store scene (I thought you said you were coming for the foliage!) then it's probably on the itinerary. Like Mexican? Loco Coco's is better than the places around the shopping outlets, and only five minutes south. Go to the Cantina side and hang at one of the high-top tables near the bar. Try the fish tacos, or one of the Picadas. Specials are often good. And they serve Dos Equis on tap. Or, if you're looking to do the lobster pound thing right away, head down to Kittery Point and the Chauncey Creek Lobster Pier, where locals bring their own tablecloths and make an evening of it.

YORK BEACH

This is not likely on most travelers' must-visit Maine towns, and I'm not suggesting that it should be. However, I recently had a very nice pizza at Blue Sky, in the Atlantic House hotel. Try the Pizza Margherita, done in a wood-fired oven. Surprisingly tasty — if the only dish I've tried here. (I warned you this was going to be an arbitrary list, didn't I?) Afterward walk across the street (and way back in time) to The Goldenrod for candies, ice cream and a peek at the fountain service counter. (In case you don't know, York Beach is not unlike a funky beach town you might find along the Jersey Shore.)

WELLS

I could eat the biscuits and sausage gravy at the Maine Diner all day, which is why I'm glad I don't live here. Add some baked beans on the side and you're good to go. Oh, they have other stuff on the menu too, including terrific homemade Red Flannel Hash on Saturdays.

SCARBOROUGH

Precious few places in Greater Portland offer a water view (Don't get me started!) but the Black Point Inn on Prouts Neck overlooks plenty of sandy beach. I wouldn't recommend it for dinner or even lunch, but the outdoor porch is a swell spot to have a late afternoon drink if you're in the nabe. (Don't tell anybody, but Glenn Close has a place a few houses away. I almost ran over one of her dogs once. The pooch's fault, not mine. And Glenn couldn't have been nicer.) If you're out to do a picnic on one of the area beaches, you won't find better fixins than at The Cheese Iron.

CAPE ELIZABETH

There are better lobster pounds, but none has a more perfect setting than The Lobster Shack at Two Lights. Actually, this isn't a true lobster pound (the lobster dinner comes in only one size: small), but the fried clams and shrimp are real good, as are the onion rings; the chowder's worth having too. The real draw here is the outdoor setting, all the picnic tables just steps from the rocky coast. And, yes, there really are two lighthouses.

PORTLAND

This is where I live, and I know it best, but it's also where most travelers will stop, and so I'll try and telegraph some of the more notable spots that visitors might enjoy.

Fore Street Yes, it's as good as you've heard. Make a reservation, or go super early to snag a table. I just eat at the bar, but even that gets crowded fast.

Novare Res The most interesting beer selection in a brew-centric town, and the best food of all the beer joints. Plus, there's outdoor seating, woefully lacking in these parts. The banh mi sandwich is real good.

Miyake Hands down the best sushi, but the chef may also be the most inventive in town. Plus, it's BYOB.

Nosh If you like a good plate of salumi, this is the place. It's also got sandwiches and excellent fries, even poutine.

The Grill Room The best burger in town, and among the best fries.

Hugo's Top-notch grub from perhaps the town's finest chef. Plates are on the "precious" side and so it's not for everybody. About as high-end as it gets in Portland, though casual.

Bresca The only Italian worth a stop. But it's tiny, so plan ahead or make other plans.

Micucci Grocery The focaccia (pizza to some) dubbed the "Sicilian Slab" is not to be missed. And the sfogliatelle is very respectable. Grab some of each and head up Fore St. to the Eastern Promenade for a great view of Casco Bay while eating on a park bench.

FREEPORT

The L.L. Bean-dominated shopping magnet isn't much for great food, but Buck's Naked BBQ has some pretty decent chow, Day's Crabmeat (in Yarmouth) is good for a crab roll and freshly made fries, and Harraseeket Lunch (not a fave of mine, but others dig it) is right on the docks if you're looking for a post-retail-experience fried seafood/lobster kind of thing.

GEORGETOWN

Just south of Bath, on Georgetown Island and close to Reid State Park, is the quintessential Maine lobster pound, Five Islands Lobster. It consists of three shacks on a working dock and so you'll likely see lobstermen unloading their catch while you're there. For the setting alone, it's worth a detour.

BOOTHBAY HARBOR

An ultra-tourista t-shirt town, for sure, but occasionally I find myself sailing into this picturesque port by boat and stopping at the Boothbay Lobster Wharf for a lobster roll (it's jam-packed with meat). Get some melted fake butter and pour it on the roll. You won't be sorry. And they sell beer by the pitcher.

WALDOBORO

Yes, Moody's Diner is everybody's fave, and it's definitely good and cheap, not to mention heavy on the Maine atmosphere. But if I were going to eat at one place while blasting through town it'd be Morse's Sauerkraut. The European-style market (sausages, wursts, like that) serves breakfast and lunch in a very small annex to the food market. We're talking German pancakes and fresh pierogies and sauerbraten and schnitzel here, folks. It's seven miles off Route One. And you're not likely to leave the market empty handed. (Chocolate-covered Halvah for munching in the car anyone?)

SOUTH THOMASTON

If you're in this part of the state, odds are you're taking in the scenery and just relaxing. In which case make the effort to be around Waterman's Beach Lobster for lunch. There are picnic tables right on the water, a small beach actually. The crab rolls are great, the lobster rolls are good too, and the pies are worth the extra calories. Oh, it's BYOB, and closes for the season September 26th.

ROCKLAND

Two places are a must here, and they couldn't be more different: Conte's 1894 and Primo. I'll let the Conte's link speak for itself. As for Primo, this is one very fine restaurant, perfect for any occasion, serving what might be the best food in all of Maine. My favorite thing about Primo is the antipasti bar they added to the top floor this summer. Stunningly good, with lots of house-made salumi. Almost makes me want to move out of Portland to be closer. (This summer they also had oysters for a buck apiece on Sundays.)

CAMDEN

I never had a really extraordinary meal in this town until Natalie's opened in the Camden Harbour Inn a couple years ago. The restaurant is unlike any I've seen in Maine; like its owners the place drips with European flair, part sophisticated haute dining room, part bordello. Guess you have to see it. The food? Crazy good, if a bit pricey. I've had two meals here. One was the best poached Scottish salmon I've ever eaten, the other a lamb dish done two ways, both of them fab. A must for highly discriminating types. (Francine is said to be quite good as well; careful when clicking on the link, though, as they choose to serenade us with music while we're visiting their website.)

I know, I know. Your favorite spots aren't here. Sorry. I did say this would be an arbitrary — and visitor-focused — list.

But feel free to add your favorite spots, or criticize mine, in the "Comments" section below.

I can take it. And it will provide everybody else with more to ponder while they take in the turning New England leaves.

The red jars

I'm not an expert in store-bought pasta sauce; fact, I rarely eat it.

My first experience with the stuff didn't go so well. I was but an adolescent meatball, and my mother (sometimes referred to as "my sainted mother" but not always) tried to pawn off a jar on my two brothers and me.

I was on to her in a flash.

"What kinda gravy's this Ma?" (To my people it is gravy, not sauce.)

Nothing. Perhaps she no hear.

"Ma. The gravy. I said..."

"What?"

"The gravy. It's different. It ain't..."

Oh, no. The second taste nailed it. For sure.

"It ain't yours!"

She was three feet away, and yet my mother could not look at her dearest son. (Not this dearest son anyway; the other two dearest sons she seemed fine with.)

"Ma."

Nothing.

"Ma!"

"Oofah! Eat your pizza, would you? It'll get cold."

We were in fact eating my mother's homemade pie, usually so delicious, a real treat. Joseph and Michael were plowing through the blackened round pans, as if nothing were horribly amiss (Joe could be forgiven this, as he was maybe ten; Mike, the eldest, cannot be). My brothers wouldn't look at me either; they were too busy scarfing up slices while I was occupied.

"Why won't you look at me, Ma?"

This time I laughed, and after a moment so did she.

"Madonna mia! You're such a pain in the ass, you know that. I should make you go hungry."

Which is when I got up from the table, went to the trash and did a terrible thing: I embarrassed my poor sainted (the designation is warranted here) mother. A woman who cooked fabulously flavorful meals -- always from scratch and in abundance -- practically every day of her life, and not only for her own family but for others as well. A woman who decided, for some reason this day, to cheat a little -- just this once -- and let somebody else help out for a change.

I can only imagine how hard it must have been, picking a jar off the grocery store shelf. It was a tortuous choice for an Old World woman like Ma. I'm sure of it.

And yet there I was. Calling her out. Picking from the trash her dark red secret, an empty glass jar of (ugh!) Ragu. (Recycling wasn't around back then, so don't have a heart attack, okay.)

To this day I am haunted by my dreadful treatment of that wonderful woman.

Which brings me to the point of why we are (marginally) here. (We are still here, yes?)

See, I was at Micucci grabbing a slice the other day and as usual started poking around the store. There's no good reason for me to do this, of course; I know every inch of the place, likely as well as anybody whose name is Micucci, and so discovering a new item is unlikely. (Note to those who do not live here in Portland: Micucci is a Maine version of an Italian salumeria. It is a well-meaning family-operated establishment; I shall leave it at that.) Anyway, not long ago they introduced their own line of pasta sauces, concocted by "our own celebrity chef and baker, Stephen Lanzalotta." Said chef is one fine baker of breads and pastries, and his pizza is a beacon is our small town. (Were he a pizzaiolo in Brooklyn, land of my people, he would surely be a star; I am sure of this.)

The sauces were merely a curiousity to me, but on this day, ever in search of blog-worthy topics, I picked up a jar of the puttanesca. Oddly making certain that no witnesses were about to see me -- perhaps as Ma did that fateful day so long ago.

There are, it appears, many ways to connect with those we have lost.

Anyways, no sooner was the jar in hand than the notion of a competition rose up (a shameless attempt to boost local readership, no doubt). And so here's what I did: I picked three other sauces, all puttanesca. Since Micucci is local, I chose one other local shop, Pemberton's, out of Gorham. Then I threw in a Massachusetts outfit, the oft-seen Scarpetta. And then, to make things interesting, I added my brother Joe's favorite store-bought sauce, Rao's, of New York.

And this is how it went down.

4th Place. The Pemberton's label states that they "have created a new twist" to puttanesca by using flavorful Calamata olives rather than black olives. The twist is not so new; three of the four sauces did same. The taste seemed kind of murky, but the sauce is loaded with salient ingredients. And the Gorham folks gets extra points for using chick peas in the recipe.

3rd Place. My plastic container of Scarpetta's "fresh pasta sauce" had a freshness date of January 30, 2011, so food manufacturers' interpretation of "fresh" may be different from yours and mine. In any event, you best LOVE capers; otherwise, don't go near this stuff. It's got a bright tomato flavor and lots of chunks of goodness inside; it's just not for me.

2nd Place. I can't look at the Rao's label without getting grumpy over the fact that I will likely never have a meal at the oh-so-exclusive, no-outsiders-allowed original restaurant in New York. Nevertheless, the Rao's sauce was the freshest tasting of the lot, by far, but was a bit lacking in complexity. (Did I just say "lacking in complexity"? What is happening to me?) This one's the best of the bunch if used as a cooking sauce, like over chicken or other meats.

1st Place. Micucci is lucky indeed to have hooked up with Lanzalotta (I know, I sound like I'm in the tank for this guy, but the truth is that I've never actually met the man). This is one very concentrated, complex flavor profile you got here, folks, loaded with good stuff, and plenty of tasty olives. If you're looking for a jar of sauce to pour over pasta that needs no doctoring whatsoever, this is it.

I think Ma might have liked it too.