Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 39 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 52 Page 53 Page 54 Page 55 Page 56 Page 57 Page 58 Page 59 Page 60 Page 61 Page 62 Page 63 Page 64 Page 65 Page 66 Page 67 Page 68 Page 69 Page 70 Page 71 Page 72 Page 73 Page 74 Page 75 Page 76 Page 77 Page 78 Page 79 Page 80 Page 81 Page 82 Page 83 Page 84 Page 85 Page 86 Page 87 Page 88 Page 89 Page 90 Page 91 Page 92 Page 93 Page 94 Page 95 Page 96 Page 97 Page 98 Page 99 Page 100 Page 101 Page 102 Page 103 Page 104 Page 105 Page 106 Page 107 Page 108 Page 109 Page 110 Page 111 Page 112 Page 113 Page 114 Page 115 Page 116 Page 117 Page 118 Page 119 Page 120 Page 121 Page 122 Page 123 Page 124 Page 125 Page 126 Page 127 Page 128 Page 129 Page 130 Page 131 Page 132 Page 133 Page 134 Page 135 Page 136 Page 137 Page 138 Page 139 Page 140hungry eye 90 p o r t l a n d monthly magazine similar to Pearl Oyster Bar,” says Rebec- ca (pictured right). She plans to open it this month. The larger restaurant upstairs, tenta- tively named Pearl North, will offer non-sea- food items as well and opens this fall (bot- tom right). “I have a brasserie template” in mind for the big restaurant. “I actually don’t like to work with interior designers too much, because that’s the fun part. I’m going with classic French bistro Thonet bentwood chairs, but padded. And my menu–you’ll see French elements, but it’s American food.” Downstairs in the low-ceilinged snug that will become Spat Oyster Cellar, visi- tors are drawn to the long carrara marble bar and the small fireplace even before the restoration has begun. It will seat “approx- imately 35 at the bar and on the floor” and will be open year-round. It feels like just the intimate spot to stop for oysters and ale in a snowstorm. KENNEBUNK CONNECTION Rebecca Charles’s family began coming from Brooklyn to summer in Kennebunk nearly 100 years ago. It’s the late Re- becca “Pearle” Stein Goldsmith (left inset), her namesake maternal grand- mother who so loved life and Ken- nebunk summers, who seems to be Charles’s muse and inspiration. In her 2003 memoir/cookbook, Lobster Rolls & Blueberry Pie, Charles writes, “Maine will always be home because of our memories…My grandparents [Pearle and Goldie Goldsmith] first drove their shiny Packard touring car through Ken- nebunk in very early August 1920. As their car motored around Beach Ave- nue…they would have seen some of the same beautiful old stone cottages, shingled saltboxes, and Victorians lining the road across from the water that I now pass.” G oldsmith family summer-vacation traditionmeantlodgingattheForest Hill House and Cottages on West- ern Avenue. Since the 1880s, and well into the 1940s, Forest Hill House was known as the Jewish guest house and was the only ho- tel in the yankee Kennebunks that accepted Jews as guests. Today, Forest Hill House is the White Barn Inn. In the early 1980s, Rebecca Charles was hired as a young cook by the White Barn’s then-owner, Jack Nahill, to come run L unch hour at Pearl Oyster Bar in New York’s Greenwich Vil- lage is jumping on a weekday. A tiny storefront on Cornelia Street, Pearl has plate-glass windows overlooking the lovely block of gracious town houses. Mario Batali’s very first restaurant, Po, is across the street. Batali has called Pearl his “favorite lunch spot on the planet.” Ruth Reichl and writer Calvin Trillin, who is also a neighbor, are regulars. Trillin wrote the foreword for Lobster Rolls & Blueberry Pie (with Deborah DiClementi), published by Harper Collins in 2003; it’s scheduled to be reissued by William Morrow next year. Pearl’s bar takes up the first room; tables for two and four fill a tiny adjacent dining room, which is cozy with brick walls, sage colored wainscoting, and framed prints of shellfish on the walls. Jacob, the enchanting host, delivers us to a perfect deuce with a view. We’re surrounded by a pilsner-sipping mob of conviviality, and, within a few min- utes, served cold French rose and Blue Point oysters from Long Island. They’re quite unlike mild Damariscottas, but they’re exceptionally meaty and tasty with the delicate shallot mignonette. Oysters are followed by a six-inch cornmeal johnnycake topped with a tangle of lightly smoked salmon and garnished with a dab of crème fraiche and snipped chives–utter heaven. The recipe is in Lobster Rolls & Blueberry Pie. Later, in Kennebunk, Rebecca tells us it’s her “hom- age to my grandmother” (pictured above). We conclude lunch with a pan-fried softshell crab that sits on a platter of sugar snap peas in lemon butter, scattered with toasted almond slivers. The crab is dabbed with what we decide is an exotic aioli, bright with minced red onion and capers. Weeks later, Rebecca Charles laughs about this. “That’s our house tartar sauce. We make it with Hellman’s mayonnaise. Tartar sauce is not supposed to be aioli!” The day we visited Pearl Oyster Bar, the market price of the Maine lobster roll–a gorgeous bountyoflobstermeatheapedintoatoastedbunwithskinnyfriesontheside–is$30. Thirtybucks! “Hey, our Maine lobster travels a lot farther than yours do,” says Charles. “And we cook them and break them down right here–we don’t just buy the picked meat.” Which is why they’re so good, and why almost every table has at least one lobster roll on it. Village Hot Spot