🍦 5 Places That Make You Forget There’s an Extreme Heat Warning

A personal guide to cold things keeping this city together

Humidity’s climbing. Your shirt’s sticking. Someone’s dog is sprawled down like a bear skinned rug at the Deering Oaks Famers Market.

It's that time when ice cream isn’t a luxury, it’s the city’s unsung cooling system. So to help you out, I’ve mapped my personal favorites. Especially one.

Dear Dairy

This is my go-to.

I have yet to find a basic vanilla even come close to how good the Vanilla De Veracruz is from Dear Dairy, They treat ice cream as art. They use raw, organic A2 milk from Maine farms, sweetened with fair-trade cane sugar and tapioca syrup—plus egg yolks for that silky texture. They craft each flavor on its own base, so even the weird ones (brown‑butter pretzel brittle, miso cherry swirl) aren’t just palatable, they’re perfect.

Soft serve runs at Night Moves on Fridays and Saturdays. For the rest of the week, find their pints at Rosemont’s or Monte’s. You’ll want a backup.

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Gorgeous Gelato

This isn’t your grocery-store gelato. It’s dense. Luscious. Made the right way, Italian technique, no shortcuts, no weird powders pretending to be pistachio. The flavors shift with the mood, but the quality never wavers. There’s always a little confusion, a low-simmer feud between Gorgeous Gelato and Gelato Fiasco. I’ve made my pick. I’m a purist. I want gelato that tastes real, full-bodied, not factory-made. And I want an espresso with it: bitter, strong, no nonsense. They’re open ‘til 10 PM. Just late enough to make a habit of it.

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Zephyr Ice

It looks like something you'd get at a county fair. A mound of ice with syrup bleeding down the sides. The kind of thing that used to stain our tongues neon blue and red. I was skeptical. It looked too familiar, too artificial. But then I took a bite. Shaved ice over a scoop of house-made ice cream, drenched in syrups they make from real fruit. Just fruit and cane sugar. No shortcuts. No weird aftertaste. It still stains your mouth, but in a way that feels earned. Cold. Messy. Kind of genius. Feels like Portland playing around and somehow getting it right.

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Red’s Dairy Freeze

This one’s personal. It’s around the corner from one of my closest friends, which makes it dangerously convenient. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been stuck at the light on Highland and said, screw it, took the sharp right, and ended up in Red’s parking lot.

They’ve been at it since 1952—soft-serve, frozen yogurt, milkshakes that hit like childhood. A place where nothing’s overthought, but everything feels right. A lineup of kids with dripping cones. Teens on first dates. People eating in their cars because the moment just can't wait.

I’ve been on the hunt for their fresh strawberry all summer. They don’t post updates, so every visit is a roll of the dice. But when it’s there, it’s perfect. No frills. Just real flavor, served with a side of nostalgia and a little bit of luck.

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The Honey Paw

You’re full. You said you were done. Maybe even made a whole show of it. Leaned back. Sighed. Declined dessert like someone with discipline. Then the server casually mentions honey soft serve. And now here it comes: cold metal bowl, dark chocolate shell cracking just slightly, honeycomb chunk like a geology sample, sea salt catching the light.

You could skip it. But then you’re the kind of person who skips the best part. And we both know you’re not that person.

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🪼 There’s Something Lurking in the Surf at Willard

Giant jellyfish are washing up on Portland beaches. Here’s what to know before your next swim.

You’re walking along Willard Beach. Iced coffee in one hand, flip-flops barely hanging on, sun finally doing its job. Then you see it. A pulsing, rust-colored alien blob about the size of a beach ball that lost its will to live.

It’s not sea trash. It’s a lion’s mane jellyfish, the largest known jelly species in the world. And lately, they’ve been drifting ashore all over Maine, some nearly five feet wide, tentacles trailing like wet spaghetti.

👀 Why Are They Here?

The Gulf is warming. The Gulf of Maine is one of the fastest-warming bodies of water on Earth. Warmer temps = longer jellyfish lifespans + faster growth = mega blobs near shore.
This species is built for size. They can grow up to six feet across with hundreds of tentacles, each one packed with stingers that still work even after the jelly is dead.
Portland sightings are rising. Sightings are rolling in from Willard, East End, Kettle Cove, even off the piers in Casco Bay. I caught one myself up at Five Islands Lobster Co. in Georgetown a few days back. They’re popping up like uninvited dinner guests.

⚠️ What To Do If You See One

Don’t touch it. Not with your hand, not with a stick, not with that weird bravery that comes from wanting to impress your friends.
Don’t pee on it. Rinse with hot water if you’re stung. Not cold. Not fresh. Hot.
Tell someone. Lifeguards and beach staff know how to remove them safely

🌊 Real talk — how worried are you about swimming this summer?

Vote honestly. No one’s judging (except the jellyfish).

🐾 Adoptable Buddies of the Week! 🐾

🐕 Chunk – 3 years old, 60 lbs, soulful brown eyes.
Sensitive, gentle, and still healing. Needs a quiet, adult-only home with a steady routine and no surprises. Loves big-dog friends, but no cats or critters, please. A loyal heart with goofy potential.

🐈 Wild Thing – 5 years old, brown tabby, medium-sized.
Playful, curious, and always down for a good hang. Loves toys, pats, and people who get the balance between independence and affection. She’s fun-loving, friendly, and ready for her next chapter.

🐹 Hudson – age unknown, leafy green connoisseur.
Formerly feral, now cautiously curious. Still shy, still learning to trust, but warming up to nose boops, treats, and playtime. Best for someone patient, quiet, and floor-sitting inclined.

🐕 Interested? Check them out here