Located in historic Alfred, Maine 11 Oak Street WEDNESDAY THROUGH SUNDAY NOON TO 5 P.M. Annual Holiday Reception November 17, 4 to 7 p.m. ThedeckatDryDockhasfrontseatviews totheactiononCustomHouseWharf. Nearby,Flatbreadoverlookstheferries arrivinganddepartingfromMaineState Pier(below). S e p t e m b e r 2 0 1 7 3 9 meaghan Maurice large sycamore trees and a fence of stacked whisky barrels. The largest part of the pa- tio is filled with wooden tables and para- sols. There’s an intimate corner filled with loveseats. This hidden corner of the world is busy, and the clientele is sharper-dressed and a little older than those we’ve seen on other patios around town. We choose a spot in the wicker armchairs surrounding the fire pit, where we’re immediately presented with a dish of fiery wasabi peas. The drinks are on the expensive side–you’ll pay $15 for a cocktail–but the service and space are welcoming. Barbecue smoke drifts from the kitchen, turning the night air a hazy blue. On nights like these, you almost believe winter will never arrive. n Tellusyourfavoritepatiobysendinganemail tostaff@portlandmonthly.comortaggingusonTwitter @PrtlndAfterDark. who’s performed here, good enough for me. W ith this in mind, I head down on Saturday night, some re- luctant friends in tow. “Why not The Porthole instead?” they demand. The Porthole might be a great destination for dancing, but if you’re in the mood for spying, the Dry Dock affords a lofty van- tage point to watch Porthole’s raucous pa- tio, Boone’s has a buzzy dining deck, and, if you time it right, you have front-row seats to watch the Casablanca “booze cruise” pulling into port. With scenes like these, who needs Netflix? We settle in and place an order of drinks with the server. The tavern’s drinks list is straightforward and not particularly memorable, much like the food menu, but the sights and sounds of the waterfront bars and the lights flashing off the ocean keep us enraptured. From this hardscrabble Mt. Olympus we observe the marauding crowd below. Do you see that couple fighting? What about the ones flirting by the bar? Which of those frat boys is going to fall over first? Who knows? Next week, the roles will probably be reversed and you’ll be the fodder for some other spectators’ Saturday night gossip at the Dry Dock Tavern. From the outside, there’s little to sug- gest Timber Steakhouse prizes anything in the way of outdoor space. But if you slip through the restaurant and out the bar door, you emerge onto a peaceful pa- tio walled off from a parking garage by