Via Vecchia

Via Vecchia occupies a restored building on Dana Street in the Old Port, and it is one of Portland's more theatrical dining rooms — high ceilings, marble, a long bar, Italian cooking served with some ceremony. Its cocktail programme is described as merging old-world sophistication with new-world flavours, and unusually the alcohol-free side got the same treatment.

The N/A-groni is the proof, and its specification rewards a close read. A Negroni is defined by bitterness, and the reason most non-alcoholic versions fail is that they replace Campari with something sweet and red. Via Vecchia instead builds the bitterness from gentian — the root that gives Campari and most amari their backbone — and cherry bark, which adds a woody, faintly medicinal depth. Grapefruit supplies the citrus edge, juniper stands in for gin's aromatic spine.

The presentation is the other half of the job. It is served over a single large piece of crystal-clear ice with an orange peel, which is exactly how the alcoholic version arrives. That matters more than it should: a great deal of what makes a drink satisfying is the object in your hand, and a non-drinker handed a highball of something pale while the table drinks from heavy rocks glasses is reminded of the difference every time they look down. Same glass, same ice, same garnish removes that.

Dinner service runs from 4pm daily, to 10pm most nights and 11pm on Friday and Saturday. It sits in the heart of the Old Port within a couple of minutes of Hunt & Alpine and Andy's, so a group can move between them easily — and unusually for this city, all three have something real for the person not drinking. For a visitor staying in the Old Port, that cluster is the single most useful thing to know about this city.