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A garage no more.

16 Comments

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Have you ever eaten in a garage?

I mean an honest to goodness previously grease stained filling station?

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Thankfully the grease and transmissions are gone and a Wiscasset, Maine landmark restaurant once known as Le Garage (clever, no?) is now Water Street Kitchen and Bar.

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It’s a great place to drop in for a craft cocktail…

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Fresh basil limeade with Tito’s please.

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A cream of asparagus soup for the spouse…

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And some spicy Cajun shrimp for me to start.

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Never let it be said their bartenders don’t go the extra mile for top shelf.

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We were happily drinking and schmoozing so I didn’t photograph our entrees, but dessert was a delight.

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Creamy limoncello cake for the win.

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On the way home?

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We marveled at the tourists who don’t know any better and wait on endless lines in the heat at Red’s Eats.

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Their lobster is frozen and comes from Canada.

No self respecting Mainer would be caught dead there.

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16 thoughts on “A garage no more.”

  2. My father was an auto mechanic who brought his tin lunchbox to work every weekday for 30+ years. There was no break room for the mechanics, so he ate at his work table, which was covered with parts and grease. Sometimes I got to visit him in the shop and was treated to candy from the vending machine in the waiting room where customers sat anxiously awaiting the bill for the work done on their cars. As a result, I associate the taste of Snickers and Hershey bars with the smell of motor oil and solvent (and sometimes car in the shop anxiety). I may have ingested molecules of auto shop chemicals for all I know, but I certainly would have preferred a limoncello cake and Cajun shrimp. I had a lobster roll once, in San Francisco, and thought it was overrated. But it was likely made from frozen lobster too!

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    1. Wow, you sparked some great memories with that first line! My dad worked at a cotton gin for 37 years and he too had a tin lunch box with a glass lined thermos. If he dropped the thermos it would shatter on the inside. He and his fellow coworkers didn’t have a lunch room either so they’d eat in their trucks or on the tailgates if it wasn’t too hot or cold. He’d come home smelling of dust and cotton seed. I wish I had the insight to have save his tin lunchbox.

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  3. My dad’s brother owned a garage, and the smell of oil and other chemicals was always present when we walked by. That restaurant sure looks awesome and that bartender is putting on a show! Well thanks for the insight on Reds, if I ever make it up to Maine, I’ll remember that, lol.

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      1. And in the connections of a small town…I grew up with the son of one of the Havey Brothers. He lived down the street. Monty is the nephew of a guy (Vito) my dad boxed with. My dad had spaghetti dinners at their house every Sunday when they boxed in college together. Many years later my wife worked with Vito’s daughter-in-law.

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