I’m Jake Newman. The Portland Logbook is my love letter to this city: the food worth hunting down, the history that refuses to die, the corners you only find if you’re paying attention.

The Lost Art of Being a Regular

There’s something holy about picking a place and refusing to leave it.

It doesn’t have to be the best place. It just has to be yours.

I have a few, but one that shaped me is Another Round. I was literally sitting at the bar there when I started The Logbook. I used to sit and tell Harry ( the owner) that I was going to be “Portland’s Pete Wells,” like I was gearing up to unleash scorching takedowns on unsuspecting sandwiches. The truth is I’m basically a golden retriever. I can’t be the ruthless critic people think they want. I’m not built for cold analysis. I’m built to get excited about toast. I don’t want to sit above this city with a grading sheet. I want to be in the booth, stealing fries like everyone else. I’m not here to critique Portland. I’m here to make people fall in love with it.

On cold mornings I order a cortado. On hot afternoons I go iced Americano. I wish I could order the smoky orange latte every day, but there’s only so much my waistline can tolerate. The smell of hickory from the smoked vanilla drifts across the counter and blends with the grinding beans, like someone built a campfire inside an espresso machine. That’s usually when Nathan walks in. He’s another regular. We don’t plan it. We just end up next to each other like pigeons finding the same power line.

I talk to everyone. The baristas. The manager. The owner. The other lifers. I don’t sit in silence. I orbit.

Some people would call that routine. I think it’s devotion. In a city where every new spot launches with fourteen-dollar “seasonal maple foam” and wallpaper selected for Instagram backdrops, loyalty feels radical. Staying feels like rebellion.

The thing I love about Portland is that when you meet someone cool here, they actually live here. When I worked in Manhattan, I’d meet incredible people only to find out they were from Madrid or Melbourne or who-knows-where and just passing through. Here, my bartender is my neighbor. My coffee shop regular is my coworker. My friends exist in walking distance. This city doesn’t just collect people. It keeps them.

But I’m guilty too. I chase the next new opening like everyone else. I try the “best new sandwich” or “hottest new bar” because that’s what we’re trained to do. Then I get devastated when one of my real places closes because it didn’t get enough business. Loyalty is easy to preach and hard to practice.

So maybe that’s the message. Pick a place while it’s still there. Continental. Gill’s. Quiero Cafe. Marcy’s Diner. Miyake. Or some hole-in-the-wall no one has written about yet. Go so consistently that your absence becomes suspicious.

And when they start making your drink before you even order,

that’s not just service.

That’s proof you belong to a city.

Valid until the end of the month, October 31.

Here’s one of the perks of being a regular. I’ve got the hookup for you, Logbook readers get 10% off at Another Round just for being subscribers. Go check out my regular spot, show them this image, order something good, and then tell me your regular spot.

Go Now. The Color’s Peaking

Fall doesn’t ease in here. It hits like a door closing.

One week you’re sweating in line at Tandem, the next the air smells like smoke and the trees look radioactive. Red maples flare first, bleeding color down every block of Deering Oaks. Around the same time, the birches flash yellow through Baxter Woods and along the edges of Evergreen. Then the sugar maples take over, throwing out deep oranges and coral reds from Munjoy Hill to Stroudwater.

The oaks drag their feet, turning slow and stubborn, bronze before bare. Beeches keep their paper-thin gold well into November, rustling even after everything else has let go. Out near Capisic Brook and Fore River Sanctuary, the tamaracks in the wetlands take the last turn, glowing yellow before they drop their needles and leave the edges bare.

From the islands to the inlets, every pocket of Portland burns a little different each year. But it always ends the same. A hard gust off the bay, a curtain of rain, and the color collapsing underfoot.

Get outside before it’s gone. Grab a coffee. Take the long way. This is the good part, before winter turns it all gray again.

🍂 Pick your favorite leaf color before they’re gone:

THIS WEEKS CONDITIONS
☀️ SUNRISE: 7:01 AM
🌅 SUNSET: 5:47 PM
☁️ AIR QUALITY: Clear and dry, wood stove season incoming
🛳 Tourist Level: Moderate, 8 ships this week (~17K passengers)
🌊 SEA TEMP: 54°F (Casco Bay, wetsuit season for anyone sane)
🍁 FOLIAGE WATCH: Peaking in Town / Full Blaze Inland (50–80%)
✨ Local Favorite of the Week: Rabelais

🐾 Adoptable Buddies of the Week! 🐾

🐶 Shayla – 5 yrs
Big heart, bigger personality. Shayla’s smart, loyal, and hilarious. Loves walks, hates other pets, thrives with structure. If you want a best friend who keeps life interesting, she’s your girl.

🐱 Turkey – 15 yrs
Senior queen with stories to tell. Chatty, affectionate, window watcher, total lap magnet. Great with dogs and kids. Give her a couch and she’s home.

🐱 Mischief – 13 yrs
Old soul, soft heart. Loves sunbeams, cozy spots, and gentle company. Gets along with other cats. Quiet, kind, and ready to love you forever.

🐕 Interested? Check them out here