THE NONGLUTEN GUIDE TO MAINE AND CAPE COD*
*Mostly Portland / The Outer Cape
First things first, a caveat: this is not a guide to the entire state of Maine or the entire peninsula of Cape Cod. I wish I could be that exhaustive, but all of these guides are subjective works-in-progress, and this one largely covers the Portland area and the Outer Cape. I’ve chosen to pair them because they’re destinations I know well, and that I know many East Coasters visit each summer. NONGLUTEN has an undeniable East Coast bias, which is coming out in full force this week.
SEAFOOD IS SEASONAL
In both of these places, seafood really forms the basis of most local menus, but it’s important to note that these are real fishing communities, and the best local seafood is seasonal. What does that mean in practice? In Maine, new-shell lobster peaks between July-October. Halibut reigns between May and June. Bluefin tuna runs from roughly June to December. And delectable uni—one of Maine’s true treasures—lures connoisseurs in between November and March. If you see “red snapper” on a menu, it is almost definitely a hot dog.
On the Cape, bluefish—an oily fish similar to mackerel, but bigger—comes into season as the summer gets going. It’s divisive—but most agree it’s delicious smoked. Striped bass shows up in July and August. Delicate summer flounder is fleeting as its name suggests. Sweet little bay scallops are best in the winter. Clams are most commonly dug between June and September.
Oysters are a big deal in both Maine and on the Cape, and I love to eat them in both places. I’d say the Cape has more of a reputation, but Maine’s oyster farms—concentrated on the Midcoast, between Portland and Acadia—are equally impressive. There’s the old adage about oysters and months ending in “r.” And there might be some truth to it—Wellfleet OysterFest is in October. But I think they’re just as good in Julyr.
FISH-PHOBICS WELCOME
All that being said, folks who don’t eat seafood shouldn’t worry—both Maine and the Cape are home to wonderful farms producing full-flavored vegetables and humanely raised meat. It might sound kind of humdrum, but Maine is known for potatoes. The Cape is known for…chips. (Every flavor is gluten-free). Maine’s got great chips too, made from local potatoes. Fox Family’s line is mostly gluten-free, except for sour cream & onion, but make sure to check the labels. What else? In late summer, Cape corn is out of this world. And look out for both foraged and cultivated mushrooms in both locations during spring, summer, and fall.
Maine has the additional intrigue of a small but well-known seaweed industry; keep an eye out for local kelp, dulse, and other varieties. The state’s most prized wild edible, of course, is the wild Maine blueberry—minuscule and bursting with flavor. In peak season (August), I like at least an inch and a half covering my morning yogurt.
The Cape has wild blueberries too, but is better known for cranberries, which come into season in September and are harvested through the fall. And you may see the occasional jar of beach plum jam—a sensible use for a foraged fruit, though I’d be lying if I said it came anywhere near blueberry.
PROGRESSIVE PORTLAND; CLASSIC CAPE
Because of a severe housing crisis and a few other factors, the Outer Cape doesn’t have too many small, hip restaurants run by ambitious young chefs. I know of two on the Cape at all—The Pheasant and LUNE—in Dennis and Dennis Port, respectively, but I haven’t had a chance to go.
Maine—and particularly Portland—has a restaurant scene absolutely exploding with great ideas, and boundless applications of its unique seasonal pantry. That’s not news. What the Outer Cape cape lacks in those types of dining experiences, it more than makes up for in classic, unfussy seafood shacks and family restaurants that have catered to vacationers for generations.
Many of these also have an undercurrent of Jamaican flavor thanks to a decades-old seasonal workforce, some of whom now live on the Cape year-round. I wrote about this for the NY Times a few summers ago; sadly, a couple of the restaurants have since closed. But Jamaican easter eggs are on almost every menu if you know to look for them. Jerk sometimes contains soy sauce, so always ask.
Provincetown specifically also has a historic relationship with the Azores—many folks migrated from there in the 19th century to work in the whaling industry—and Portuguese touches show up on menus just as often. Sadly, there are no 100% Azorean restaurants on the Outer Cape anymore, and the ever-popular Provincetown Portuguese Bakery is no place for a celiac.
BREWERIES AND SPIRITS
One topic I haven’t covered yet on NONGLUTEN is beer—and Maine is one of America’s craft beer capitals. So it’s almost a given that the Portland area is home to not one, but two gluten-free breweries: Orange Bike and Lucky Pigeon. Both have tasting rooms that are open to the public, and as of writing I’m sorry to say I’ve only gotten to try Orange Bike. Since opening in 2020, they’ve already won awards for their range of brews including a pitch-perfect Pilsner and a dry, funky Guava Sour. I’m a big fan.
The Cape doesn’t have any gf breweries, sadly, but the Outer Cape town of Truro is home to a vineyard and distillery that produces deservedly popular gin and rum. I’m trying to think of a diplomatic way to say this but…you can skip the wine.
MAINE
A Note on Lobster Rolls
The only thing besides gluten that Lauren can’t eat is lobster. It’s not an allergy, but it doesn’t agree with her—so unfortunately this isn’t a topic I feel I can cover to the usual NONGLUTEN standard. But here’s what I can say: basically all of the top lobster roll spots in Maine have a gluten-free bun, I just can’t personally vouch for the safety.
My favorite—and this has been true my whole life—is The Clam Shack in Kennebunkport, which serves both its regular and gf lobster rolls on a hamburger bun. The gf one is Udi’s, but, you know, toasted with Kate’s salted butter I think it’d be solid. They steam their lobsters in seawater, and you can really, really taste the difference in the meat.
A close second is McLoons in South Thomaston, which has a prettier and more relaxed setting on a hidden wharf and serves its excellent rolls on buns from Bam Bam Bakery in Falmouth, just north of Portland.
I have only driven past the renowned Red’s Eats in Wiscasset, in part because their rolls come with an excessive half-pound of lobster meat, and also because the lines are often crazy long. However, I was intrigued to learn that their gf option comes open-faced on two slices of toasted gluten-free bread from a local bakery in neighboring Dresden. Kind of cool.
In Portland, I know that folks love Bite Into Maine, which has gluten-free buns. And for a more creative lobster roll option, read on…
Eventide
When Eventide opened in 2012, it was a big deal. And when I first tasted their oysters with pickled red onion ice—I believe that same year—it was a really big deal. They blew my mind, and over a decade later, they still do! Man, it’s just the best way to eat oysters. It’s savory slush. It’s granita for dinner. It’s like winning the football game and someone pouring the big orange jug of freezing cold Gatorade over you. It’s like getting hooked up to a bivalve IV—it’s reviving, refreshing, reinvigorating. I sometimes mix pickled red onion with horseradish; some swear by kimchi. I don’t think you can go wrong.
So, you could just treat it as an oyster bar. But there’s more to the menu, including a beloved brown-butter lobster roll that comes in a unique bun that’s part-bao part-tramezzino. They also make a gluten-free one that I confess I didn’t try, but it gets rave reviews. There are seasonally changing crudos and ceviches, veggie small plates, seafood soups, and a killer smoked mussel platter with pickled veg (though the accompanying homemade saltines and potato chips aren’t gf). There’s a mixed green salad with nori vinaigrette that’s been on the menu since Day 1, and it’s as good as ever. And after all that—there’s a fudgy gluten-free brownie topped, of course, with sea salt.
My only caution is that if you’re not gonna get a lobster roll (or crab roll), gluten-free meals here can be pretty light. It is better for lunch or a light dinner—and really best, like I say, for oysters. Whether or not they’re the first to serve oysters this way I’m not sure—but they’ve really perfected it. I actually stole their idea for a recipe I published years ago, and you know what? My version wasn’t nearly as good.
ISF Trading
Down a discreet industrial wharf, past a parking lot, and through a basically unmarked door is this Japanese-run seafood distributor specializing in pristine Maine uni. During working hours—amazingly—their employee cafeteria is open to the public for affordable and ultra-fresh seafood. Pick up some sashimi from the wholesale counter downstairs, and the friendly staff will give you some microwaveable rice and nori wrappers. Bring your own tamari, and you’ve got everything you need for a perfect lunch.
There’s a show on NHK called Lunch ON! that profiles how people around Japan eat lunch at work. Ascending to the lunchroom here, I have the sense I’m living it. I mean, it’s rare to get to cosplay being an employee of a Japanese fish and shellfish wholesaler on his lunch break. Some would say really rare. This alone would make the experience worth it, but the fish is great and the uni is phenomenal. It’s golden, delicate, and ever so slightly creamy, with a beautiful blossoming marine flavor that coats every grain of rice you eat it with. I know I said to BYOT, but don’t ruin this stuff with tamari. It’s too good!
If ISF seems too incredible to be truly under-the-radar, well, it is and it isn’t. Our local friends who took us found out about it on social media—we weren’t roaming the docks on Commercial St. peeking into warehouses or following the trail of cracked urchin shells on the asphalt (though we could’ve). But it’s a relaxed scene in there, partially because uni season runs during fall and winter, and we were there on a cold, windy, gray day in November. It also happened to be my birthday. I’m not sure what the uni situation is in summer, but it’s gotta be one of Portland’s more memorable lunches no matter the season.
Fore Street
Open since 1996, Fore Street is a pillar of the Portland fine dining scene, one of those timeless restaurants anchored by wood-fired cooking in the mold of Zuni. Walking in, if you can’t see the fire and the hearth, you can certainly smell it—and you can feel the warmth that extends around the expansive brick-walled dining room. We went in winter, when this is exactly the kind of vibe you want (especially in Maine), but I’d eagerly go back in any season to see what’s spinning around the turnspit.
For our purposes, it’s worth noting that spit-roasting meat over a wood fire is about as cross-contamination-proof as you can get. As a result, any of the options cooked this way—provided they haven’t been rubbed with or marinated in anything untoward—are usually a good bet. Maine’s seafood is obviously top-notch, but don’t sleep on its meat! Proteins here are mostly accompanied by a la carte sides, which are usually gf as well—when we went, we loved both roasted sweet potatoes with orange blossom tahini and roasted parsnip with smoked scallop butter and dulse.
Servers are well-informed and happy to guide you through what’s safe, though I’ll note there was a teeny bit of inflexibility around one easy request that kind of surprised me. And I’m also not in love with the phrasing “just let me check with Chef,” which is something our server said—but I think that’s just a pet-peeve, and it’s kind of insane that I remember this 7 months later. She was just being helpful. And Chef was cool! He fed us delicious wood-grilled hangar steak and spice-rubbed pork. And for dessert, there was flourless chocolate cake and a textbook crème brûlée. I remember all that 7 months later, too.
Mr. Tuna
Portlanders are so lucky to have a Japanese place this good and this fun that caters so well to gluten-free diners. And Mr. Tuna has a totally novel approach to the gluten-free menu that I think more places should adopt. It’s just their regular menu, in a different color, with any gluten-containing ingredients neatly crossed out. That way, you see plainly what modifications will be made to make a given dish gluten-free, and you can plan your meal based on which dishes have the fewest cross-outs. Some are totally crossed out; others aren’t crossed out at all! It’s awesome, and it’s just so smart.
Aside from that, servers are extremely on top of everything, and always ready to appear tableside with a special vessel of gluten-free soy sauce. But you won’t need any for my favorite dish—the “tuna de tigre,” a play on Peruvian-style ceviche featuring Maine bluefin in coconut milk with avocado, red onion, and cilantro. Maine’s bluefin tuna is rightly revered, and I have to say it’s also just beautiful—like, I want to have it set into a piece of jewelry. It should be my birthstone. I feel more connected to it than topaz.
Beyond tuna, which is clearly kind of the star of the show here, I’d prioritize anything with Maine crab, halibut (in season), or scallops. Rolls come as maki or hand rolls; there are also huge ones they call “burritos.” Not really my vibe but I understand the appeal. There’s a nice sake list to wash it all down, as well as Orange Bike’s gf Pilsner in a can. If this were in New York, I think I’d be here all the time.
Lil Chippy
I can’t say enough good things about this delightful fish and chips shop along Portland’s busy Washington Ave. restaurant strip. The gluten-free fish and chips, made in a dedicated fryer, is without question the best I’ve had: the fish is fresh and flaky, and the batter—which uses King Arthur’s 1:1 flour blend—is as jagged and characterful as the Maine coastline.
The chips might be even better. They’re a showcase for Maine’s outstanding potatoes— the perfect thickness, fried to a deep golden-brown, and they stand proudly at that difficult-to-achieve crossroads of crispiness and pillowiness. They also taste—this sounds stupid—potatoey. But ask yourself: when was the last time you could really make out nuanced potato flavor in a french fry?
With your fish and chips, I recommend a huge herby mixed greens salad, any why not start with a half dozen oysters? Lil Chippy has a couple different mignonettes that they serve with little eyedroppers. Do not put them in your eyes. One of them has scotch bonnet!
The Alna Store
They are feeding you acorns up at the The Alna Store, and I think that’s reason enough to venture to this charming restaurant in the woods near Damariscotta and Wiscasset. A caveat: they fed me acorns in November. I don’t know how big their cheeks are and if they’ve stored enough for summer. But hopefully they have, because the acorns showed up in a brilliant dessert: buckwheat and acorn-flour crepe cake, layered with parsnip mousse and ginger caramel. Totally unique, and opened my eyes to a whole new universe of alternative flour.
But even if there’s no acorns when you go, I bring it up just to demonstrate The Alna Store’s radical and progressive use of Maine’s bounty. The savory side of the menu is marked gf, and servers are good with recommendations. There will likely be a whole fish—get it. There will be seasonal vegetables paired with creative coastal accents like smoked scallop or Maine kombu oil. And there will be ingredients even more out-there than acorns, like locust blossom or fruiting chestnut mushrooms. I know a lot about food, but I have no idea what either of those things are.
I can confidently say you’ll taste something new during a meal at The Alna Store, and frankly there aren’t too many restaurants in the US that promise this same sense of discovery. And certainly not with this much skill and attention to detail. You might be wondering if, in addition to being interesting, the food is also delicious. I meant to lead with that. Yes!
Công Tử Bột
Vietnamese is not one of the trickiest Asian cuisines to navigate, but it’s nonetheless welcome when a place as good as Công Tử Bột is basically 100% gluten-free. They’ve been a beloved player on the Portland restaurant scene since opening in 2017, and first-timers will understand why within the first bite.
Start with the trúng chiên tôm, a fluffy shrimp fritter that comes with assorted herbs (including mint and perilla leaf), fish sauce, and a lettuce wrapper. The menu says to “order as many as you like! 🔥,” and while this type of sneaky upselling would normally piss me off—they’re already $8 each—I kind of applaud their boldness. And I did want more than one!
Other standouts include the stir-fried wide, flat rice noodles with chilies, green veg, and pickled mustard greens—they’re spicy, with admirable wok hei and the type of bouncy texture usually missing from gluten-free noodles. Twice-cooked eggplant with basil and nước mắm chấm is both silky and smoky. And don’t miss the cabbage salad—bright and crunchy, with a good dose of heat. But feel free to chart your own course. As the menu also says, more sympathetically, “The majority of our menu is gluten free =)”
Twelve
Try as you might, it is very difficult to confirm online that Twelve’s newly minted executive chef, Hannah Ryder, is celiac. As is often the case in fine dining—or, you know, life—I would suspect she doesn’t want this to define her, and it shouldn’t. She is creating sophisticated tasting menus out of Maine’s best seasonal ingredients; that they’re 98% gluten-free is just the cherry on top.
But it does take a certain extra level of celiac-informed creativity to make, for example, a perfectly crisp tuile out of almond flour, and stick it atop celeriac with horseradish and sorrel. Or to dream up a corn-and-blueberry ice cream sandwich on a stick—complete with an engaging exterior that transitions from soft, cakey corn to blueberry shell. There’s also the homemade gluten-free bread—which evokes thick-cut whole wheat, nicely griddled and served with pesto butter. Our server told us it took 18 months to perfect, and the hard work has paid off.
At 100/person for four courses, Twelve’s prix fixe is pricey, but it also represents a new level of Portland fine dining. Colin Wyatt, Twelve’s founding chef, spent over a decade at Eleven Madison Park and Daniel. Chef Ryder worked at Aquavit and Cafe Boulud. These influences come through in the food, though maybe a little too much in the service, which (at least on our visit) could have been a little warmer and more attentive. But it’s not a big deal. Anytime a kitchen this ambitious is helmed by a celiac, you’ve gotta check it out. And I can’t wait to see how this one progresses.
CAPE COD
*All of these restaurants are seasonal. In the offseason, we only go to Mac’s Fish House in Provincetown, which has essentially the same menu as Mac’s Shack (below).
Cooke’s
Orleans
Owned and operated by the Mitrokostas family since 1976, Cooke’s is a wholesome, relaxed seafood spot that’s unusually attentive to gluten-free concerns. I almost said “seafood shack,” but that’s not really the vibe—it’s a full-on restaurant, whose interior is more Greek diner than coastal kitsch. There’s something refreshing about how normal it is, actually, and that’s part of what keeps us coming back.
Another part: perfect fries from a dedicated fryer, as well as sweet potato fries that they’ll throw in there for celiacs (they are normally cooked in a shared fryer). Those can accompany plates of broiled cod or swordfish with gluten-free breadcrumbs, or a gloriously unfashionable slab of broiled salmon with a syrupy balsamic drizzle. They can also accompany a lobster roll—my favorite on the Outer Cape—which can be done on an Udi’s bun.
For dessert, Cooke’s offers gluten-free ice cream sandwiches from Chatham Ice Cream Bars, which cleverly use almond macaroons, plus a layer of chocolate, and dairy-free coconut-almond ice cream. They’re also across the parking lot from the popular Ice Cream Cafe, which has tons of positive reviews on Find Me. But the ice cream sandwiches sold at Cooke’s are so good…we’ve still never been.
PJ’s Family Restaurant
Wellfleet
A classic seafood shack on the side of Route 6, PJ’s doesn’t have the dockside atmosphere of Mac’s On the Pier (below), but it has a fun retro dining room and the Cape’s finest soft serve—with gluten-free cones. I like their lobster roll, but Lauren often goes for a linguiça roll, which is available with a gf bun that’s softer and more briochey than Udi’s. Even for the linguiça rolls, they’ll griddle the bun in butter—kind of outrageous, but it’s really, really good. Grab a Del’s frozen lemonade to cut the richness.
That’s lunch; for dinner, classic New England broiled seafood is the way to go, and we just ask for them to omit breadcrumbs. But keep your eye out for specials, which get a little more creative: jerk-rubbed fish or grilled fish with pineapple pico de gallo are delicious, and come with a baked potato and steamed vegetables, which are boring in the absolute best way. Most dinners also come with a roll, so just be clear with counter staff and they’ll leave it off.
More often than not, we do just go to PJ’s for ice cream, because in addition to the standard vanilla-chocolate soft serve, they have a machine prepared to make “javaberry,” a Massachusetts oddity that twists together black raspberry and coffee soft serve. It is the best thing in the universe.
Mac’s On The Pier
Wellfleet
Of all the restaurants on this list—of all the restaurants on NONGLUTEN period—I’ve probably eaten the most meals at Mac’s On The Pier, a seafood shack with picnic tables overlooking Wellfleet harbor. I have been coming here my whole life—and it used to not really register that all the fried food is gluten-free. These days, of course, it registers. Owner Mac Hay is gluten-intolerant, and we frankly couldn’t have been happier to realize we could continue to eat calamari, onion rings, and fried fish sandwiches by the sea together post-diagnosis.
But the fried food, which is coated in a distinctive cornmeal dredge, is just the tip of the iceberg. We’ll often opt for a grilled salmon sandwich, served on an excellent griddled gf bun, or a grilled halibut sandwich when it’s available. On a chiller day, Mac’s clam chowder and Portuguese kale soup are just the thing. But real heads get the Caribbean seafood bowl, which combines local whitefish, scallops, and other shellfish with potatoes and veg in a coconut curry broth. If you’re gonna get that, don’t wear anything white.
Now, Mac’s has a huge menu and it’s easy to make mistakes. A friend from Illinois once famously asked for “a bag of steamers and a banana frappé [sic],” which remains the worst order I’ve ever witnessed not just here, but anywhere. I see tourists get lobster rolls a lot, and for whatever reason Mac’s doesn’t do them well. I also think that, for several reasons, this isn’t the spot for raw oysters, but don’t worry—for those you go to Mac’s Shack.
Mac’s Shack
Wellfleet
Just down the road from the Pier, this is your destination for impeccably fresh Wellfleet oysters.
And confusingly, despite its name, this restaurant is much less of a shack—it’s actually a nicer sit-down restaurant with an oyster bar. But it’s really popular, so you’re not gonna sit down right away. Come early to enjoy a dozen oysters at the bar, served with classic mignonette, and washed down with fun, summery cocktails. The wait is always 15 minutes shorter than they quote.
Like its casual sister spot on the harbor—and I should mention, Mac’s has a handful of restaurants and markets on the Cape, though it started here—all of the Shack’s fried seafood is gluten-free. This is a great place to get fish and chips, though I often order the fried fish tacos, which come with a fun DIY setup of warm corn tortillas, pickled red onions, guacamole, and other accoutrements.
There are many other wonderful fish-based entrees that feature local catches with creative sauces and sides—right now they’re doing seared striped bass with curried cauliflower puree and sumac-herb salad. And many people come for the full lineup of sushi, sashimi, and poke bowls, most of which either are or can be made gf. I really don’t get how they manage to maintain such high quality across so many styles of food, and at such volume. But it’s been around close to 30 years now, and I’ve never had a bad meal here.
The Lobster Pot
I’m not generally in the business of sending people to tourist traps, and the Lobster Pot could definitely be mistaken for one. But it’s really just a P-Town classic, and to be honest there aren’t any other restaurants in Provincetown that we regularly go to (other than Mac’s Fish House). Most just aren’t that great, especially if you’re gluten-free.
So what makes the Lobster Pot so much better? A timeless dining room with views onto the beach, and a team of polo-clad servers who’ve been here since my childhood. And on top of that—simple, classic seafood dishes, some of which showcase Azorean accents from P-Town’s past or Caribbean flair from the all-Jamaican kitchen staff. And for such a busy restaurant, they are really good with gluten-free—they even have a separate physical gf menu. I always appreciate that touch. It’s rare!
We like to start with oysters pesto, an off-menu treat from the 90s that sounds a bit dated, but has undeniable appeal. There usually aren’t breadcrumbs, but just make sure and specify. From there, you could get a hearty Portuguese seafood stew, or broiled and grilled seafood topped with lemon-caper butter or mango beurre blanc. You could also, obviously, get some lobster—it’s one of the best places out here to do it. The gf options come boiled or roasted, with a buttery brandy sauce and potatoes. Back on the regular menu, they’re doing lobster egg rolls and lobster arancini. Believe me—you’re not missing out.
THE LOBSTER TRAP
Two restaurants have clawed their way into “The Lobster Trap” — one in Portland and one on the Cape. It brings me no pleasure to bring attention to their infractions, but I feel that despite NONGLUTEN’s sworn oath not to embrace negativity, certain negative-adjacent commentary is part of my duty.
Leeward
Portland
I think it’s self-evident why Leeward ended up here. If they hire me to re-write their web copy in a way that’s nice and normal—like basically every other restaurant on Earth—they can be released.
Blackfish
Truro
We’ve eaten at Blackfish zillions of times over the years, and both of us are fans. But unfortunately, they do not have a gluten-free option for their signature dish—tuna bolognese. It sounds a bit weird, but it’s incredible—and a creative use of Cape seafood. They serve it with fresh pappardelle, but they actually don’t make it in-house—presumably because they do not worship at the same temple as our friends at Leeward. Thank goodness!
So how do they get out of the Trap? Just have some gluten-free pasta lying around. Honestly—I can’t believe I’m saying this—it could even be penne! I am certain they get asked all the time. They have gf buns for their burgers. They’re so close. One tiny step and they’re out of the Trap. What fate will they choose?
THANKS FOR READING THE NONGLUTEN GUIDE TO MAINE AND CAPE COD
REGULAR COVERAGE RESUMES IN TWO WEEKS
All illustrations by Lauren Martin. All photos by me or Lauren.
Consider pledging if you are enjoying NONGLUTEN