Alan Ilagan

The next day we trekked down to Amore Breakfast to see Leanne and have some of her incredible once again I marveled at all that was in bloom – immense stands of stately Siberian iris stood swaying in the wind, their blossoms floating like deep-purple butterflies.

Creeping phlox was just finishing its show, throwing out a stray burst of magenta here and there, and everywhere the Rosa rugosa, finally covered in full bloom – a sight we don’t ever get to witness.

After a breakfast of the righteously-renowned Black and Blue French toast (I opted for the Blue variation, with fresh Maine blueberries – the sweetest on earth), we walked back up to the village before hitting the outlets.

On every Ogunquit trip we make a shopping excursion to the Kittery outlets. Well, I shop, while Andy drives and parks the car. Occasionally he’ll go into a place that peaks his interest or coincides with his style (which means he’ll go in Gap and Banana Republic if he’s feeling especially adventurous, and Calvin Klein if he needs underwear, but that’s about it).

This time, I noticed that Coach had a new location, so we swerved into the parking lot and I told him I just wanted to look for a minute. Now, I know I’m not in need of a new bag, and certainly not another Coach bag, in black no less. Notice I said “need”. Desire, want, wish, and pragmatic-decisions-in-the-event-of-a-once-a-season-sale-on-top-of-clearance-prices are totally different things.

I did, however, need a decent bag for toiletries, as the free one I got with some cologne purchase years ago was on its last soap-stained legs. I’d been eyeing versions by Prada and Louis Vuitton, but hundreds of dollars for that minor item is a waste, even by my questionable standards. When I saw a two-zipper Coach case for half off, with an additional twenty percent off that, I couldn’t refuse.

Unfortunately for my American Express card (which actually split apart a few weeks ago, no joke – I had to tape it back together, literally), the case was in the vicinity of a messenger bag that was also half off, with the additional twenty percent on top of it, so I took a deep breath, rationalized and cajoled with my waning voice of reason, and ended up getting $450 worth of merchandise for about $160. Hey, it could have been a lot worse – there was a dark blue canvass bag that would have been ideal for summer, but I refrained.

Still on a high from that deal, I made Andy pull over for Brooks Brothers (it should be noted that I don’t even bother to stop at Brooks Brothers or Coach on a regular basis because even the sale prices are too exorbitant, but in these troubled times it seems the outlets are having sales on their already-reduced items). There was a 40% off store-wide sale, and I splurged on a pair of madras pants. I normally wouldn’t do such a thing, but shopping has a way of building on itself. I was helpless at this point. The upside is that they are the softest pair of pants I’ve owned in a while, and they make up for the summer look that I gave up in the navy canvass bag.

For dinner we switched things up and went out to Gypsy Sweethearts. Our habit is to leave that (or The Old Village Inn in the Fall) as a safety choice for our last night in town.

This time we enjoyed a perfect meal at our corner table, basking in the setting sunlight (and savoring the beef tenderloin wrapped in bacon, covered in a sinful blanket of bearnaise sauce).

Our dinner complete, we made our way to the Oxygen O2 Lounge, where Khris Francis was having his opening show of the season. We had seen Mr. Francis when he first started playing Ogunquit a number of years ago, and followed him intermittently during his stay at The Front Porch. Now he was back across the street where he originally began, and we had back-of-the-room seats (for our own safety).

Andy and I enjoyed the show immensely – the change of venue has reinvigorated both Francis and his material, and he looks to have a winning summer.

This was our first time at the Oxygen (to the best of my recollection – I’ve given up on proclaiming absolutes because my memory is shot), and it was a great experience – the staff was incredibly polite and attentive, without a bit of attitude, and that impresses me more than almost anything else. I’ll forgive a lot, and enjoy the good things that much more, if there is genuine appreciation for customers. We’ve been pretty lucky in that most of Ogunquit functions that way.

Once the show was done, we crossed the street and found ourselves back at Bread and Roses, with the door still open, and the desserts still scrumptious.

If there’s one thing that we do well when we’re in Ogunquit, it’s eat. Restaurants have come and gone in the decade we’ve been visiting (hello and good-bye Joe Allen), but we’ve never had a bad experience at any of them. On our first trip, I remember a breakfast at one of Wayne Wescott’s former restaurants – I think I had blueberry pancakes (there is no better way to make pancakes than with Maine blueberries). Wayne would go on to open up Five-O, (more on that in a bit) before heading over to his current digs at The Front Porch.

Speaking of The Front Porch, it is sometimes our landing point – the first dinner we have after the long drive. It’s also the place we go for cocktails and piano show-tune sing-a-longs. In its central locale, it has anchored Ogunquit as a bastion for over 25 years – one of the only mostly-gay bars I can think of that can do this. But that’s Ogunquit.

On that first trip we also tried the now-defunct Impastable Dream (I think that was its name) and played it safe at The Old Village Inn. At the latter I indulged in lobster – the highlight and goal of any trip to Maine for me – amid traditional old New England surroundings. The Old Village Inn has been one of our restaurant mainstays – a reliable performer for a last night in town when you’re looking for one final culinary embrace of a place you know you’re going to miss. Like Five-O.

When Wayne opened Five-O it was an instant smash, and I honestly didn’t think it could get any better, until Jeffrey Porter and Donato Tramuto took over. They tweaked the menu a bit, kept the bountiful martinis as perfect as ever, and imbued the establishment with their effortless grace and bonhomie. Five-O is one of the only restaurants we visit each and every time we’re in town. That and Amore Breakfast.

Amore is a must-stop for anyone visiting Ogunquit. Owner Leanne Cusimano has crafted the best breakfast in town, with her famous Black-and-Blue French toast and equally-scrumptious Bananas foster French toast. Her menu also features some inventive benedicts as well, and because of one of those I even get to have lobster at breakfast. The food alone would constitute a landmark in my book, but Leanne’s open-armed approach with guests is the glorious dose of Maine-made love that puts it over the top.

There are new restaurants opening all the time, so this is just a quick offering (I should also mention Katie’s, which has become a new favorite – with an insanely decadent lobster mac-and-cheese – two favorite things in one calorically-devastating indulgence.) The point is, we’ve never gone hungry in Ogunquit.