The Glass Feather

Vet tech Heather Burgess (@the.glass.feather) learned the craft seven years ago from old hands Lisa and Dave Roy, at Bucksport’s stalwart Stubborn Cow glass studio. Today, her work is on display at several Maine galleries, including Camden’s Small Wonder Gallery and the Maine Coastal Island National Wildlife Refuge Visitor Center, in Rockland. Burgess doesn’t put her work in frames; instead, she mounts some of her pieces — which might include paper cranes, loons, coral, or mermaids — on pieces of driftwood, giving them a little sculptural flair.

Seagull Adrift, $200.

Girl with a Glass Heart

On a whim, Roberta Mershimer (@girlwithaglassheart) took an eight-week community-ed course in stained glass shortly after moving to South Paris, back in the ’80s. Two weeks in, she was hooked enough to buy her own glass grinder. Her work since has included entire kitchen windows, pieces that encapsulate bike gears inside glass patterns, and round window hangings depicting moose in the mountains. For extra Maine-y flair, she frames some of her work using wooden snowshoes.

Great Blue Heron, $350. Mershimer’s work is for sale at Norway’s Food for Thought café or via Instagram.

Luna Glass Design

In 2020, Kaela Brennan (@lunaglassdesign_) met her partner, John, a glassblower, and before long she was making glass pendants in his backyard studio. A year later, she got a job with Manchester’s Stained Glass Express, and soon she was creating her own stained-glass designs. “I use my photographs of nature and trace them to create patterns,” she says. Many of her pieces focus on animals, and some of her favorite projects are custom orders to stained-glass-ify pets (including, recently, a pit bull in a beanie and shades).

Daisy, $100. Brennan’s work is for sale on Instagram.

Botanic Magic

A Maine College of Art and Design masters program drew Lauren Berg (@botanic_magic) from New York to Maine, in 2017. After graduating, she set about brainstorming ways to blend her passions for art and herbalism, eventually buying a soldering iron and incorporating pressed botanicals into stained glass made from shards she collected on roadsides. “Herbalism taught me about the fragility of Maine’s ecosystem,” the Warren-based artist says. “I wanted to preserve botanicals in something that was strong but also fragile, as a metaphor.” These days, she uses more-professional materials, and her signature pieces frame plants and seaweed inside simple, colorful shapes.

Queen Anne’s Lace Mooncatcher, $115.

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Two unorthodox decisions paved the way, recently, for one of the best dinners I’ve had out all year. The first was when I reserved a table for a wedding-anniversary date night at a new-ish restaurant my wife and I had never visited. A roll of the dice! But we’d been slow to call around, and all our favorite spots around Camden were booked solid. So when I saw a single 8 p.m. slot available at wolfpeach, a farm-to-table, fine-dining place that had opened last winter, I nabbed it without even consulting Elsa.

wolfpeach’s proprietors, Gabriela Acero and Derek Richard, stylize the name (a translation of the Greek-derived scientific name for a tomato) with a lower-case w, the kind of convention flouting that irks copy editors and that, frankly, this magazine would typically choose to ignore. Except this was among a handful of details Elsa and I had absorbed about wolfpeach that had given us the vague impression it might be, well, a bit precious. It surely didn’t help that the restaurant occupies an 1840 modified Federal that was formerly the Drouthy Bear, a Scottish pub shuttered by the pandemic that we liked for its burger and lack of pretense. Or that photos of lovely, spartan dishes on wolfpeach’s social-media feeds were accompanied by declarations about “centering community and creating joy, both of which are their own forms of power and resistance” — perfectly admirable sentiments that could nonetheless read a little woo-woo. And maybe something rang a smidge messianic about the GoFundMe video Acero and Richard circulated last fall, explaining how wolfpeach would depart from the flawed “normal restaurant model” by, among other things, abolishing tips and paying all staffers a living wage.

But ugh, these were petty observations of a grumpy, aging Xer who’s lived in small-town Maine for too long. And on one’s anniversary, one must eat. So we went, and man, am I glad we did.

The space that houses wolfpeach has lost none of its charm since the pub moved out. It’s a former B&B invariably described as snug, with wood floors and a beautiful, six-seat bar separated from the main dining room by a big brick hearth. Cozy as it is, the room is uncluttered: Windsor chairs, fresh flowers, a single bookshelf. Low lit, its walls minimally adorned (with, among other works, some cool abstract inks by midcoast illustrator Chelsea Witt), the place has a parlor feel, graceful and welcoming and not at all precious.

That feel of elegant simplicity extends to the menu, which on our visit contained just 13 items, none described in more than six words. The single word “love” alongside a fermented dilly-bean starter was probably the twee-est thing about the whole evening. But what more to say? We did love the crisp and tangy beans, grown down the road at Monroe’s Second Frost Farm (I asked). We also loved, off the small-plates list, a tray of oysters from South Thomaston’s Weskeag Oyster Company, a jar of bright and piquant kimchi, and a basket of sourdough bread, a passion of Richard’s, which was near to the Platonic ideal of sourdough: crispy outside, cloudlike inside, and served with butter flecked with bits of kelp from Biddeford’s Atlantic Sea Farms. (We over-ordered starters; a table of two could suffice with one or two.)

Local sourcing is enshrined at wolfpeach, as Acero and Richard explained during a follow-up visit. “I feel bad when I get food that’s from, like, southern Maine,” laughed Richard, who runs the three-person kitchen, while fiancée Acero oversees the beverage program and front-of-house. Restricting ingredients to what’s farmed, fished, or foraged nearby isn’t just an ethical decision. “I kind of like forcing myself and my cooks into limitations,” Richard explained. “I think when you have access to everything, then you can’t make anything. But if it’s like, ‘We only have these 10 things — how do we make a creative menu out of that?’ then there’s much more room to use different techniques and approaches. How do we make a tomato three different ways on our menu, and they’re all delicious?”

Acero, a Waterville native and a vet of several buzzy NYC restaurants, and Richard, who cut his teeth at the Hudson Valley’s Michelin-starred Blue Hill at Stone Barns, let that essentialist approach inform the restaurant’s whole concept. Initially, they conceived it as a “Maine riff on a chophouse,” Acero said, “kind of paying homage to old classic scenes in New York and Montreal and Chicago, but not necessarily using beef at all.” The influence is evident on wolfpeach’s approach to entrées: three are typically on offer — usually a meat, a veggie pasta, and a lower-on-the-food-chain fish (don’t come looking for tuna or halibut) — and they’re served unaccompanied and simply plated, to be complemented, if you like, with something off an a la carte menu of shareable salads.

Which brings me to my second unorthodox decision: I am an ambivalent carnivore who almost never orders a big slab of meat. But Elsa got the pasta alla norma, and I wasn’t up for the whole trout, so I ordered the smoked pork chop, and hoo boy. It was downright luscious — a generous loin, impossibly tender and pleasantly gamey and just a little sweet, ringed with a halo of smoky char and fat, topped with a peach-and-poblano compote and sage crisped in butter. The meat was raised at Bristol’s Broad Arrow Farm, where, coincidentally, I’d been the week before, my kids tossing acorns and bread chunks to the pasture-raised heritage hogs. About every two weeks, Broad Arrow supplies wolfpeach with a pig, which is butchered in-house.

Other than the chop, my plate was bare. “I’ve just always hated extraneous garnishes,” Richard told me later. “I think a lot of chefs count on plating techniques and the amount of ingredients in a dish to cover up for technique and skill.”

Elsa’s pasta was similarly simple and decadent, with savory eggplant playing nicely off dollops of sweet and garlicky Dairy Duet cheese, a cow-and-goat-milk blend, from Washington’s York Hill Farm. A succotash-like salad of charred corn and tomatoes, in a fermented tomato vinaigrette, was light and just right as a shared side. (wolfpeach is big on house fermentation — not least because Maine’s winters are long and its growing season short.)

The unique beverage program deserves more attention than I’m giving it, totally focused on the Northeast, with no European wines and a small, smart list of beers, ciders, and unconventional spirits, all made in Maine or nearby (Acero and Richard met while helping open Oxbow Brewing Company’s Oxford restaurant and beer garden). We stuck to cocktails, Elsa’s a refreshing concoction of cucumber and aquavit from Rockland’s Luce Spirits, mine a “parsnip punch,” made with a blackened-parsnip simple syrup, house bitters, Vermont-made ice cider, and rum from Camden’s Blue Barren Distillery. It was, like the entire evening, sophisticated but none-too-complicated — and deeply comforting.

Also none-too-complicated? Settling the bill without tipping. Acero expected some diners to be perplexed by it, but for the most part, she says, everyone seems to like the no-tipping mandate, and questions about the policy have made for welcome entries into deeper discussions about wolfpeach’s philosophy and approach. The service, meanwhile, was gracious and didn’t miss a beat. Sometimes, unorthodox moves are the right ones.

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Taking the Long View

An aerial photographer took to the skies to capture Maine’s stunning, surreal, and vulnerable coastline, offering a unique perspective on Maine communities anticipating the effects of sea-level rise.

Photographed by Alex MacLean | Text by Kate Cough

Tales from the Borderlands

More than 600 miles of international border separates Maine from Quebec and New Brunswick. But for the people who live on either side, that line isn’t a source of division so much as an axis of connection.

by Will Grunewald, Brian Kevin, Joyce Kryszak, Mary Pols, and David Shribman

The Walk

In 1972, little-known Bangor mayor Bill Cohen set out on a walk clear across the state to convince voters to send him to Washington. A new book looks back at the 650-mile jaunt that became a Maine political tradition.

Special Advertising section: Ask an Artisan

You can’t go wrong giving handmade gifts — and three Maine artisans have the scoop on what to look for this holiday season.

By Tina Fischer

Paid Content Section: Nonprofit Spotlights

Departments

North by East

The endurance junkie running every Portland street, the ironic trend lifting L.L.Bean tote sales, and the exhibition showing off a different side of Alex Katz. Plus, in Maine Dispatches, puffins are flying high again.

Food and Drink

A farmer embraces tartness in an organic cranberry bog. A couple of restaurateurs serve up super-local (and super-good) meals at Camden’s wolfpeach. Collectors look out for lighthouse-shaped bottles of Maine’s favorite coffee liqueur.

Good Things from Maine

A Penobscot elder makes birch-bark moose calls, and four artists break the mold with stained glass. Also, come for the oysters and stay for a downtown Damariscotta shopping spree.

Maine Homes

A colorful cottage in Sullivan, a tunnel of gourds in New Gloucester, and mini-houses in everyone’s backyards.

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Where In Maine

Maine Moment

Dooryard

Editor’s note, reader feedback, responses to September’s Where in Maine, and more.

Columns

My Maine: Cheney, Matthiessen, and Me; Room With a View.

My Favorite Place

Artist Ian Trask, on the organic garden at Bowdoin College.

On Our Cover: Saltwater marsh in Wells, by Alex MacLean.

Additional photos: Alex MacLean, Hannah Hoggatt, and Benjamin Williamson.

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Salt Cream Seafood Heat

We asked three Maine chowder aficionados — chefs Matt Spector and Christian Hayes and Governor Janet Mills — to share their favorite takes on the classic New England dish.

By Alexandra Hall

Where Have All the Phalaropes Gone?

Millions of showy little shorebirds once descended on Passamaquoddy Bay during their fall migration. Then, they vanished. Among those who remember the birds, the mystery of their disappearance presaged a new era of environmental change in Maine.

By Willy Blackmore

All But Crying With Color

Autumn brings a pastoral luster to the midcoast’s Camden Hills. Experience it in photos — then plan your getaway.

Photographed by Benjamin Williamson

Departments

North by East

Maine’s oldest towns square off in a York County border war, a once-neglected Waldoboro theater is reborn, and a buzzy new book looks at Penobscot identity in the 21st century. Plus, in Maine Dispatches, a destroyed culvert creates a 143-mile detour.

Food and Drink

This round’s on us: our Maine Drinks special highlights new uses for classic Maine ingredients — from apples to potatoes to seaweed — in wines, beers, spirits, teas, and more.

Good Things from Maine

A Wiscasset shopkeeper’s handmade brooms will sweep you off your feet, an Islesboro maker’s walking sticks will keep your feet planted, and you’ll learn new artisan feats during the annual Maine Craft Weekend.

Maine Homes

A 1900 Waterville Foursquare that fulfilled one family’s Maine dream. New additions to a scandalous list of banished plants. Four historic Maine homes with great architecture and ghost stories.

Paid Content Section: Maine’s B Corps and ESOPs

More Maine companies are taking new approaches to business that emphasize their commitments to employees, their communities, the environment, and more.

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Where In Maine

Maine Moment

Dooryard

Editor’s note, reader feedback, responses to August’s Where in Maine, and more.

Columns

Waterfront: Maine-Built Electric Boats; Room With a View.

My Favorite Place

UMaine at Fort Kent soccer coach Oniqueky Samuels, on his town’s Lonesome Pine Trails.

On Our Cover: Camden’s Mount Battie summit, by Benjamin Williamson.

Additional photos: Derek Bissonnette, Tara Rice, and Benjamin Williamson.

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The autumn was Edna St. Vincent Millay’s favorite season — or anyway, it was the time of year that seemed to find the Camden-reared, Jazz Age poet at her most rapturous. “Oh, Autumn! Autumn!—What is the Spring to me?” she beseeched in one poem, denigrating mud season like a true Mainer. In another of her many autumn verses, she extolled the season’s stillness, which “will lie upon the spirit like that haze / touching far islands on fine autumn days.” Growing up, Millay glimpsed far islands from the wooded Camden Hills, which seemed, in the fall, to “ache and sag and all but cry with color,” as she wrote in “God’s World,” one of her best-known works. Wander Camden and its surrounding towns — arcadian hamlets like Lincolnville, Hope, Union, and Rockport — during foliage season, and it’s easy to see what left Millay so euphoric. From the harbors to the hilltops to the rolling pastures, from the vibrant hues of the early season to the rustier tones of its waning days, there is a romance to autumn in the Camden Hills that no place in New England can match.

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A piece of metal weighing six or seven pounds fell from the sky and landed near a Capitol security officer. The Federal Aviation Administration suspected it came off a plane on an international route but, as of press time, had not found the source.

Bar Harbor

The Abbe Museum, Maine’s only Smithsonian affiliate and a repository for Wabanaki history and culture, hired Cherokee Nation citizen Betsy Richards as its new executive director. She previously worked at a social-justice nonprofit in New York.

York

On York Beach, 50-year-old comedian Dane Cook proposed to 23-year-old fitness instructor and aspiring singer Kelsi Taylor. She said yes.

Westbrook

Happy Wheels, a roller rink formerly in Portland, reopened three years after closing. New co-owner Derek Fitzgerald grew up skating at the original location in the ’70s and ’80s.

Jackman

Heavy rain destroyed a culvert in Jackman, necessitating a 143-mile detour to bypass the washed-away section of road.

Camden

Historian David McCullough, a longtime seasonal resident, passed away at age 89. McCullough’s work twice received a Pulitzer Prize and twice a National Book Award, and in 2006, President George W. Bush awarded him the Presidential Medal of Freedom.

Best of Maine

Our 15th annual roundup of Maine’s best everything: art galleries to architects, beers to boutiques, golf courses to gift shops. How did your favorites do?

“The Kind of Meat My Camera Likes”

Mid-century midcoast photographer Kosti Ruohomaa loved to turn his lens on Maine’s out-of-the-way places and salt-of-the-earth people. A fascinating new exhibit at the Penobscot Marine Museum lets visitors see Maine as he did.

By Brian Kevin

A Connecting Place

With miles of undeveloped shoreline and quintessential down east quietude, Whiting’s Orange River is a little-visited paddler’s paradise. It’s also a critical link between ocean and inland ecosystems — and now, a showpiece for an ambitious effort to restore Maine’s coastal rivers.

By Adrienne Perron

Departments

North by East

See the trees for the forest in Arrowsic’s research woods, view the evolution of Maine’s identity through Bowdoin’s bicentennial art exhibition, and keep an eye out for rock carvings in a Phippsburg nature preserve. Plus, in Maine Dispatches, an all-time-great candlepin bowler’s final frame.

Food and Drink

Tropics-loving ginger grows in un-tropical Farmington, a Wilton restaurant fulfills a life’s dream, and a crab-dip recipe is good for Maine fishermen. Also, Portland’s Eastern Prom food trucks have a new place to park in the park.

Good Things from Maine

Maine State Prison residents fundraise for a midcoast food pantry, a Brunswick-based designer makes tattered garments trendy, and elegant Maine stationery is perfect for eloquent letters.

Maine Homes

A Sebago farmhouse that’s lived many past lives, hordes of hostas outside a Holden home, and the old mansions on MDI that are history.

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Where In Maine

Maine Moment

Dooryard

Editor’s note, reader feedback, responses to July’s Where in Maine, and more.

Columns

Excursions: Old York Historical Society; Room With a View.

My Favorite Place

Author Terry Gerritsen, on Piscataquis County’s Lobster Lake.

On Our Cover: Georgetown’s Malden Island, by Benjamin Williamson.

Additional photos: Tara Rice, Benjamin Williamson, and Cait Bourgault.

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When it comes to scenery, the coastal enclave of Camden has an embarrassment of riches — its huddled collection of quaint inns, shops, and restaurants; the footbridge over the Megunticook River that nearly sags under the weight of hanging flower pots; the sheer face of Mount Battie looming up behind sailboats swaying at their moorings. The stately public library, a National Historic Landmark, presides over Harbor Park, with its paths winding over to where the river becomes a waterfall, cascading down a ragged slab of bedrock to the sea. Where is a photographer even to begin?

Many photos have, over the years, captured those falls at their most tumultuous, when water surges over the dam amid the spring melt or after a storm. Lately, a different sort of tumult has been building. The falls are regulated by Montgomery Dam, a 200-year-old concrete wall that backs up the river. In 2019, the town received a grant from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration and the National Fish and Wildlife Foundation to assess what to do with several dams along the river, which flows from Megunticook Lake, just a few miles inland. The 267-page study, produced last year by environmental-engineering consultants, concluded that, of any alternative, removing the Montgomery Dam would “provide the greatest benefits” to both the waterway and the town.

Some residents immediately objected, and they banded together as the Save the Dam Falls Committee. “There’s a lot of talk about removing it,” group member Tom Rothwell says. “We’re happy with this beautiful waterfall the way it is.” They started spreading their message on pins and stickers and penned newspaper editorials and social-media missives. “Dam Straight” is an ongoing series of opinion pieces in the Camden Herald, with headlines such as “Our Select Board Has Failed the Democracy Test,” “Don’t Fall for the Fish Tale,” and “The Great Camden Flood — of Propaganda.”

The small dam — only about four feet tall at most points — has served a number of uses in its lifetime, from powering a grist mill to generating electricity. In 1992, ownership of the Montgomery Dam was transferred to the town, which has since been on the hook for upkeep, even though the dam’s days as an economic asset are long gone. The main arguments for removal are threefold: it would allow for fish passage, reduce risk of upstream flooding (based on climate-change models that predict heavier rainstorms), and, over the next 50 years, save the town hundreds of thousands of dollars according to preliminary projections from the study. The Save the Dam Falls Committee contends that a fish ladder would suffice and that the risk of flooding is overblown.

This past year, Save the Dam Falls circulated a petition in support of dam preservation; an opposing group, Restore Megunticook, started a petition in support of returning the river to something nearer its original state. Both wanted the town to put their petitions to a vote this summer, but town officials opted not to, in part on the chance that both measures would, paradoxically, pass (multiple residents, apparently not realizing the contradictory natures of the two petitions, signed both). If that were to happen, the town would find itself in even more of a bind about how to proceed.

Bob Falciani, chair of the select board, says the town will eventually put the issue to voters, in the form of a ballot question, possibly as soon as this fall, but he adds that the board won’t rush its review of the study. In the meantime, one thing the two sides agree on is that they aren’t entirely sure what the waterway would look like without the dam. Would it still surge after a good hard storm, or would it lose that old gravitas?

Rothwell, of Save the Dam Falls, thinks it isn’t worth risking the unknown when it comes to one of the town’s most well-loved pieces of scenery. He co-owns the Camden Deli, which sits directly above the falls — the view out back brings in a lot of customers, he says. He grew up in Camden, and to this day, his parents have a picture of him standing at the foot of the falls, as a child, on display in their living room. “This is a big part of my business,” he says. “This is a big part of me too.”

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In With the Old

We’ve rounded up 40 of our favorite antiques stores, vintage shops, flea markets, and more along four winding antiques trails. Treasure hunters, it’s road-trip time.

By Sarah Stebbins, Adrienne Perron, Brian Kevin, and Virginia M. Wright

Down East Americana

In the easternmost counties in the country, fragments of a nostalgic American aesthetic linger along the byways and back roads.

Photographed by Benjamin Williamson

Uncertain Ground

Mainers are only beginning to grapple with the toxic legacy of “forever chemicals” on Maine farmland.

by Kate Olson

Departments

North by East

A dam mess in Camden, the island gardens of Celia Thaxter, Thomaston’s Henry Knox gets the Hamilton treatment, and America’s best bus stop is in Portland. In Maine Dispatches, your pet can go to college now too.

Food and Drink

Frozen kelp squares make Maine-ier smoothies, tacos and sushi get rolled into one in Bridgton, and shelling out for lobster is nothing new.

Good Things from Maine

Colorful and one-of-a-kind wall weavings, the nonprofit Common Threads sews a new future, and an exit interview with the outgoing executive director of the Maine Crafts Association.

Maine Homes

A decade-long renovation of a marsh-side cottage in Cape Porpoise, one garden in Friendship to rule them all, and the ag matchmaker who introduces farmers to farmland.

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Where In Maine

Maine Moment

Dooryard

Editor’s note, reader feedback, responses to May’s Where in Maine, and more.

Columns

Essay: A Refuge Remembered; Room With a View.

My Favorite Place

Apprenticeshop executive director Isabelle Feracci, on the nonprofit’s workshop floor.

On Our Cover: Lobstering off North Haven, by William Trevaskis.

Additional photos: Mat Trognor, Benjamin Williamson, and Greta Rybus.

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Notes
1. Astrophysicists say there’s no actual center of the universe.
2. Good-looking town, no doubt. But stiff competition for prettiest in all of Maine.
3. So called ever since the early-20th-century boomtown sprung from the north woods, as if by magic.
4. Picking teeth is an unpleasant task (and “Former Toothpick Capital” would be more accurate).
5. Sounds a bit too much like a Jersey Shore promo.
6. Lovely words for a lovely scene.

By Will Grunewald | From our April 2022 issue

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In February 2020, Jim Jefferson and his teammates on the Four Wingnuts made it from the top of Camden Snow Bowl’s ​​Jack Williams Toboggan Chute onto the ice of Hosmer Pond in 9.21 seconds — a time that earned them first place out of some 200 teams in the 4-person division (and the fastest time overall) in the 30th annual U.S. National Toboggan Championships. We asked Jefferson, a merchant marine and maker of wooden toys (Knockabout Toys) who lives in Searsmont, what it takes to go for the gold.

The National Toboggan Championships have a reputation for being kind of a gonzo party. Is it also a serious competition?

It’s something to do in February with a bunch of friends when cabin fever sets in. I’m a merchant marine, so I ask some of my crew members and fellow captains to join me. I’ve been racing for at least 20 years, and I usually race on five or six teams. We’ve won it four times and are a team of dedicated racers. Most folks are there to have fun — we usually wear capes and funny hats — but once you make the finals, then it’s time to get serious.

As a woodworker, what do you think makes a toboggan a good racer?

It’s been 10 years since I made my sled, and I’m due for a new one. A professional sled might be heavier, sturdier built, like a stiff, fast ski. Mine gets the job done, like a pickup truck.

So what are the secrets to speed in the chute?

First, stay on the sled. You want to be locked in well as a unit, so you don’t tip it. Weight also helps. The four of us weigh about 900 pounds, and weight equals speed. I also wax my sled before the race. So many things can make the difference — the sled, the team, the ice, the weather, and how your start goes. Exhaling rather than inhaling as you leave the chute can make a difference by a fraction of a second.

Do you have any time-honored pre-race traditions?

I like to show off my trophies in my truck — you know, to pump up the chest.

This interview has been edited and condensed for brevity and clarity.

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The Golden Age of Maine Pizza Is Now

From old-school parlors to chi-chi Neapolitan joints to brick ovens on trailers, Vacationland has more and better pie purveyors than ever before.

By Will Grunewald, Brian Kevin, Adrienne Perron, Joe Ricchio, and Joel Crabtree

Downhill from Here

A snow (and speed) lover’s guide to Maine sledding.

By Jennifer Hazard

Burn So Bright

In Maine, heating with wood is more than a tradition — it’s a way of life. In an excerpt from her new memoir Woodsqueer: Crafting a Sustainable Rural Life, Gretchen Legler reflects on the pleasures of the hearth — and of the labor that keeps the home fires burning.

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Special Advertising Section: Aging

How advocates for older adults are working to make the Pine Tree State more livable and sustainable for retirees. Plus, a guide to retirement communities.

By Jennifer Van Allen

Departments

North by East

A Brunswick aerospace company plans rocket launches down east, a Michigan company adds Maine ski terrain to its portfolio, and an essay collection considers Maine’s role in the organics movement. Plus, in Maine Dispatches, a hemisphere-trotting lobster buoy.

Food and Drink

On MDI, a restaurateur turned salumist opens Colvard & Company. In Waterville, Front & Main is a hotel restaurant without the hotel guests. All over Maine, they’re parsing the new “right to food” amendment.

Good Things from Maine

Six Maine-made charcuterie boards that are ready for their close-up, three Maine-made cards for your valentine, one Maine-made oud that’s unlike any other stringed instrument.

Maine Homes

The never-ending renovation of a Newcastle schoolhouse and the everlasting ardor behind three historic love nests. Plus, Maine Preservation’s new executive director talks plans for the enduring nonprofit.

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Where in Maine

Maine Moment

Dooryard

Editor’s note, reader feedback, responses to December’s Where in Maine, and more.

Columns

Room With a View.

My Favorite Place

Cookbook author Chris Toy, on Merrymeeting Bay.

On Our Cover: The state of Maine pizza, by Derek Bissonnette.

Additional photos: Benjamin Williamson, Sienna Clough, and Danielle Sykes

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