Saving Grace: A Restaurant on the National Register of Historic Places

What am I doing writing on food in a blog about heritage? What could be more central to heritage than the foodways of a people, region, or country? So much of our material culture, our music, and our transportation pertains to how we harvest, prepare, and consume that culinary life force. So with that, I can't resist commenting on a fine dining experience I enjoyed at Grace Restaurant, a splendid example of how a historic building can achieve, well, divine new uses.

The days are behind us when historic structures can be demolished in the name of urban renewal the way Union Station was in 1961. That demolition acted like a pebble in the pond whose ripple created the historic preservation movement in Portland. Thank heaven that this early Gothic Revival style church on Chestnut Street, dated to circa 1856, met with a different end. Owners Anne and Peter Verrill completed the renovation this summer and opened what a Press Herald article called "a new house of worship for foodies."

Grace Restaurant enjoys an architecture that elicits awe when you step through their door, like no other that I have seen. The vaulted ceilings still point heavenward and suggest the sacred. The stained glass windows still paint an otherworldly light in the room. But the only high priests here are the chefs who command the former altar space and the second floor bartender who bustles beneath a towering work of stained glass artistry.

Sitting with my dinner party up in the lofty reaches of the second floor balcony, I ordered a melt-in-your-mouth hanger steak draped with mustard-beer sauce and served with fried green beans that seemed to redefine the vegetable. The service was friendly and knowledgeable about the historic building; when questioned about its history, our waiter called attention to the lovely buttresses whose apparent wood grain is really a hand-painted texture that was popular in the 1800s.

The next time I visit Grace, and there will be a next time, I'll head for the bar menu where I can act like a five-star foodie on a cultural historian's budget.

A Wordle View of My Blog

A Tipi in Wabanaki Country - Charles Shay

When I learned that there was a thirty foot tipi-shaped museum on the Penobscot Reservation’s Indian Island, I wondered, why?  Tipis are associated with Plains Indian culture and, like other things of the Plains, have become part of the stereotypic “Indian” material culture assemblage. What was one doing on a reservation in Maine?  Then I met Penobscot Elder Charles Shay at an event celebrating the reprinting of his grandfather’s (Joseph Nicolar) wonderful book The Life and Traditions of the Red Man.  Watching his presentation – now available on DVD – I came to understand that learning the story of “the tipi,” which has housed his family's museum for decades, revealed several chapters of Penobscot history: how some Penobscot families have successfully worked in the entertainment industry, how many Penobscot families established businesses of their own, and how some Wabanaki peoples intermarried with members of other tribes, including tribes from the Plains. 

Mr. Shay inspired me to design a curricular unit where elementary students could answer the question of "why is there a tipi on Penobscot land?" given the rampant stereotypes of Indian peoples with which they are familiar. I provided students with reading materials and primary sources that would allow them an inquiry-based exploration of traditional Wabanaki home styles, popular stereotypes of Native peoples, and 20^th century Wabanaki adaptation to the American economy from the Depression era onward.   

After Mr. Shay’s interest in my project, I convinced Michael Sexton, a friend and professional photographer of Michael Sexton Photography, to travel with me to Indian Island and create some photo portraits of Mr. Shay. They are both taken on Indian Island, in Mr. Shay's yard and in his museum. I hope you enjoy them.