Portland leads the pack for chefs and restaurateurs to strut like superstars, waving their tickets to birth and background in frothy good will. That leaves a place like LFK in precarious limelight, its firmament aflicker in irreverent ways. Like the naughty boy acting out, it defies convention in so doing what it does so well: hosting a nightly asylum of imbibing foodies in nocturnal repose–a smattering of bohemians in the midst of high gastronomy all around it.
The glossy art hanging from the walls, the awkward lighting that casts a lepidopterous glow, the big plate-glass windows overlooking a Hopperesque Longfellow Square and the cutesy rimmed border of old-fashioned typewriter keys that form an extension around the bar add to its voguish charms like no other place in town.
It’s actually awkward to eat at the bar with its keyboard protuberance. At one meal there, a bit of sauce from the crunchy tater tops (a must- have dish) dripped down through the keyboard onto my lap as I bent over my plate trying to eat what was on it gracefully. Still, I wouldn’t want it any other way since without these highly wrought idiosyncrasies, its artsy charms would be quashed.
Since LFK now serves from three distinct menus—brunch, lunch and dinner—I’ve attended all three, which I mostly enjoyed.
As I mentioned earlier this week (see brunch review ), their corned beef hash served at brunch is formidable, and the lunch menu has some hefty sandwiches as big as heroes Consider a lusty chicken salad club: chunks of white meat in a creamy dressing, slices of local tomato, iceberg and smoky bacon; or the Reuben oozing with requisite Swiss cheese, corned beef and Morse’s sauerkraut awash in Russian dressing.
At another lunch I relished a magnificent looking beef stew, the special of the day. This mammoth bowl of beef, carrots and potatoes was heartiness incarnate. The gravy was perhaps too thick but nonetheless delicious. Kitchen tip: lighten up on the roux.
Other lunch options include a half grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup for six bucks. What a bargain.
First and foremost, though, a bar should have a great burger. It’s a matter of opinion whether LFK’s bulging beef patty and bun make the grade. Ruski’s, perhaps the city’s truest dive bar, has a great burger. Newcomer Bramhall delivers a very tasty one but it still falls short. The problem with some of these bar kitchens is that they lack the right equipment—because of construction, cost and building-code issues. What’s left is the absence of a flat-top, frylator and an exhaust system, which behoove places like LFK and Bramhall hell-bent to create classic short-order fare with what they have. LFK largely overcomes such shortcomings by being more creative in the kitchen. Their burger is made by putting it into a sizzling-hot cast-iron skillet to “char”and immediately shoved into a hot oven to cook until desired doneness.
Mine, however, came out well done instead of the medium rare I requested. It was topped with melted pimento cheese; that in itself was delicious but also overwhelmed the burger. Served on a pretzel roll, it’s a big burger. In fact all the bread served at LFK comes from Rosemont Bakery. Sandwiches are made with the bakery’s Scala bread and crostini from baguettes.
Dessert is homemade ice cream plain or with a sauce or put in between two cookies for a reputable ice-cream sandwich.
The kitchen is working on an expanded winter menu. Past hits have included a great chicken pot pie, which is being replaced by shepherd’s pie. Still on the menu, however, is their signature mac and cheese, probably the best one in Portland.
LFK, 188a State Street, Portland, ME 207-899-3277 www.lfkportland.me
Rating: overall for Sunday brunch, weekly lunch and nightly dinner, 4 stars
Ambiance: uber old-fashioned cool; pre-hipster hip
Tables: up for grabs, often communal; bar seating for dinner and drinks
Bar drinks: well done ($9 cocktails), lots of tap beers, local and from away
Service: snappy
$$$: very moderate