More-than-you-can-eat restaurant survives and thrives

Mmmm, what's cooking at Conte's? Steve Cartwright

Many coastwise sailors have discovered Rockland is worth visiting after all, with its museums, shops, marinas, sailmakers and marine hardware.

It's a far cry from the old days, when earlier editions of Roger Duncan's Cruising Guide to the New England Coast recommended skipping Rockland unless you were desperate. The place was pretty industrial -- as in rotten fish smell -- the harbor was polluted and yacht accommodations nowhere to be found.

Now yachts far outnumber fishing boats in the big harbor. Main Street is gentrified and full of boutiques. MBNA built a telemarketing center on the waterfront, tearing down ramshackle buildings and landscaping everything.

Can things go too far? Is a working waterfront an affront to all this upscale development?

One of the survivors of Rockland's down-and-out era is Conte's more-than- you-can-eat, fresh seafood restaurant, which looks like bait shack, sits on pilings and has a priceless waterfront view. It's surrounded by stacked lobster crates and other fishing paraphernalia. Is this a rustic coastal scene, or just a mess?

This spring the Rockland Harbor Commission concluded the latter, and sent a go-clean-up-your-room note to proprietor John Conte, who says he is a "crazy Italian."

Crazy like a fox, perhaps. He has turned criticism of his establishment into a resounding "leave the poor guy alone" campaign, with the advice that if you want fast food and a plastic environment, better steer clear of Conte's. This is a one- of-a-kind place.

The harbor panel's letter happened to arrive just as Conte was applying to renew his liquor license. So the Rockland city council said whoa; but under intense public pressure from loyal Conte customers, the booze permit was renewed. Conte can simply ignore the harbor commission letter, if he so chooses. He does.

Things are changing around him. As a yachting crowd replaces the commercial fishing fleet in the harbor and alongshore, this may not be the last of the Conte controversy.

Old lobster crates and other fishing gear lie around the makeshift building. Indoors, with its wide-open view of the harbor, the restaurant's tables are spread with newspaper "tablecloths," candles are stuck in old wine bottles, the floor is covered in sawdust and the menu is scrawled on a roll of blank newsprint that hangs from the rafters.

"Funky" hardly does Conte's justice. It's a relaxed, homey kind of place known for huge helpings of seafood and John Conti's (use "e" or "i" it's all the same to him) great rounds of fresh-baked bread. As a 12-year-old boy wrote to a local newspaper, every time he visits the restaurant "it's an adventure."

That's not how the Harbor Management Commission put it in a letter to Conti dated April 3. "It is the opinion of the [commission] that the appearance of the property housing Conti's is well beyond reasonable limits of propriety. What has been called unique here is a junkyard anywhere else in the city."

The letter goes on to suggest the city council may enact new ordinances which could force Conti to clean up the site, which adjoins the public landing and a large city parking lot. The site sits north of MBNA's new Rockland headquarters, and just below the former Rockland Courier-Gazette building, newly purchased by MBNA.

When word of the harbor commission criticism hit the daily newspapers, people from around the state expressed support for Conte's. "It will be a sorry day if Rockland gives up its last vestige of an honest, working harbor to satisfy the sterile landscaping of ... MBNA," wrote Dorothy Hopkins of Wallagrass.

It's one of a sheaf of letters Conti keeps on a clipboard in his kitchen. "Dinner? There is no place outside of New York City, certainly not in Maine, where one can come close to enjoying the unique decor, the wonderful ambience, and above all, the freshest, most succulent food as at Conte's," Hopkins wrote. She praised Rockland for turning down a super Wal-mart, and said Conte's is a treasure.

Conti grew up Westchester, N.Y., and remembers Sweet's and Sloppy Louie's, two famous no-frills restaurants that lured customers to New York's old Fulton Fish Market. He opened Conte's eight years ago, drawing on family restaurant experience. He said customers come to Conte's for food and a genuine atmosphere created by fish nets and lobster crates. "That's why people come here. They don't come here for friggin' palm trees and stainless steel," Conti said. "This place is not structured for the tourist. It's 365. It doesn't change when July 4th hits."

Harbor master Jon Trumble, who signed the harbor commission letter as their secretary, said no further action is planned.

He said the timing of the letter had nothing to do with Conti's liquor license application, since approved by the city council. Trumble acknowledged that the restaurant site is neater than it used to be.

Conti said the place "was falling into the ocean" when he took over. "This place is what it is. I've got a sign on the door that says 'no kitchen doors.' You come in here, you want to go in the walk-in box (cooler) and get some milk or get a salad, go right in. There's nothing to hide here."

Conte's offers a different menu each night, with specialties such as salmon verdi, canestrelli (scallops), pesce porchetta (haddock and sausage) and astaco (lobster). As patron Elizabeth Tobey of Rye, N.H., put it in a letter to a Portland newspaper, "abundant and excellent food, moderately priced, and au naturel. Conte's is a true Maine icon ... a consistent gathering place for people in blue collar and professional garb alike. A place where we've had the pleasure, more than once, to speak with members of the Wyeth family."

Stacy Palmer of Rockport wrote, "I seriously question whether this needs to be a hoity-toity city with a dress code."

A letter to Rockland city manager Tom Hall, from Anthony Wesson of Moncton, New Brunswick, says the Harbor Commission's view, "it appears, would have eating establishments conform perhaps to the standards of McDonald's, Pizza Hut or similar restaurants... We truly believe (Conte's) is an asset to your waterfront and it would be a great disappointment to see individualism become the mundane."

One thing about the flap over Conte's seems indisputable. All the publicity can only mean an upsurge in business. He doesn't advertise, a lesson he says he learned from his grandfather: You put out a good meal, you treat your customers right, they come back. Word gets around.

"Conte's is one of the great places you tell other people about, they go and then tell others. No checks, no credit cards, no microwaves, no freezers and, please, no hassles for Conte's," says a letter to the city manager from Louise and Bob Hardina of Bristol.