Portland Lobster Company

In all my years of living around here, I've never taken a moment to check out Portland Lobster Company. You certainly can't beat the location, but the ultra-touristy aspects of this place (guided city tours offered out-front) have always been an intense turn-off. I hear they have a good happy hour, though. 

A quick visit to Portland Lobster Company's website shows they were voted "Portland's Best Seafood Restaurant — Again!" by the Portland Phoenix. While nothing that paper publishes should ever be taken without a grain of salt the size of a meteor, it's fair to assume that the BEST.EVER.OMG seafood restaurant in the city might serve a halfway-decent or at least edible haddock sandwich, which turns out to be only slightly accurate.    

Portland Lobster Company's $8.49 "fried fish sandwich" (it just so happened to be haddock this time around, which may or may not stay constant) is served with lettuce, tomato, tartar and lemon on a grilled bun alongside fries and coleslaw. It's the kind of place where you order at the counter, they give you a lobster-shaped vibrating device (clearly), you anxiously wait for it to start rattling and head to the window to pick-up your food, which comes on a bright red tray. Your water (or soda) comes in paper Coca-Cola cups. There are straws, napkins and packets of s+p. Then, you sit by the harbor, stare at boats and hope your food doesn't get snatched up by a rogue seagull. For better or worse, it's that kind of place. 

Onto the sandwich. The first thing I noticed was the portion size of the fish itself, which was generous given the price. I mean, look at that thing — it screams "Maine" and could probably end up in some trendy, "back-to-roots" foodie publication. While the fish was nicely seasoned, however, the fry-job rendered it rather greasy and difficult to enjoy to its full potential. The problems didn't stop there, either. 

I'm going to come right out and say that I could never have imagined a bun could hold the potential to completely destroy whatever it may contain, yet that's exactly what happened here. Normally, "glistening with butter" comes along with positive connotations, but the richness and soggy nature of this bun overpowered every other aspect of the sandwich. It turned my lettuce into a wilted mess, made the already-greasy fish even less palatable and caused the entire sandwich to fall apart as I ate it. This bun, my friends, is a life-ruiner; it ruins people's lives. 

As for the sides, I couldn't get past the excessive salt and dark-tasting oil of the fries and probably ate three of them. The coleslaw was a generic "rainbow blend," but at least it tasted clean and helped to lessen the oily mouthfeel that had succumbed my entire palate. 

(Obligatory Lobster Vibrator Shot)

Let it be known that I'm not out to ruin anyone's good time here. Indeed, I can easily see how beers, music and a football-sized platter of fried clams could make for a great afternoon on Portland Lobster Company's relaxing and picturesque patio, and there's no way I'd turn down an invite from a friend if I had time at the moment. Once again, however, this blog is 100% GRADE-A ALL ABOUT HADDOCK SANDWICHES and nothing more. Unfortunately, this one didn't make the cut. 

The Verdict — Decent portion-size, but greasy, with a bun from hell. (★★)

As always, we'll be back next week with another review. There's still plenty of ground to cover this summer!