On a sweltering day in August, Sadie, a Portuguese water dog, greets me as I pull off Carrabassett Road in Coplin Plantation. Her enthusiastic welcome is matched by that of her owners, Heidi Donovan and Tony Rossi. They are waiting for me by the barn at the farm adjacent to their restaurant, the Coplin Dinner House. Donovan and Rossi purchased the six acres next to the restaurant property in December 2016, and have now become animal farmers as well as restaurateurs. While Sadie rolls in the grass, the couple give me a tour. Just outside the small barn, there are six Boer kids, a breed of goat used for meat. Nearby five black guinea hogs, a heritage breed, are cooling off in the mud. “The goats are a little afraid of the pigs,” says Donovan. “The pigs can be very vocal.” Today, though, they seem more interested in the visitors than intimidating the goats. “I’ve never used them before,” Rossi says, “but I understand they have very tasty meat.” Another group of happy, hungry pigs in a different pen, gathered around a feeder and water tank, runs to meet the couple when they’re called. “We bring them restaurant scraps like corn husks and broccoli stalks every day,” explains Rossi. Just beyond the pigs are portable chicken coops filled with small white broilers, feasting on grass. “This will be some of the tastiest chicken you’ve ever had,” Rossi says. The couple had little farming experience before this summer, picking up most of their knowledge from books and websites. “I was in 4H as a child and showed cows, but this is very different,” says Donovan. They have a caring but business-like approach to the farm and its animals, seeing it as a natural extension of the restaurant.

Along the edge of the property, several peach trees are just starting to bear fruit. And next to the restaurant, a large vegetable garden offers up several types of squash, tomatoes, carrots, and loads of herbs. “Having this saves a lot of money,” Rossi says. “And people bring us things from their own gardens, too.” Today, Sue Donovan, Heidi’s mother, has come from Portland to work in the garden and take care of the couple’s two children. Sporting a wide-brimmed hat and carrying a big bucket, she tells me, “It’s much more fun to do someone else’s garden.” Behind us, a wooden coop houses a small flock of bantam chickens, providing eggs for the restaurant. You might find a few of the hens wandering in the yard and parking lot as well.

Fittingly, the Coplin Dinner House was originally a farmhouse, built in 1896 as part of the largest dairy farm in the area. Rossi and Donovan had been looking to open their own restaurant, on or off the mountain, when they found the house, not far from their own home. The back door was open, and as they wandered through the abandoned building, they envisioned their dream, pointing out where the bar might go and how the porch could hold dining tables. They purchased the place in 2012 out of foreclosure. Financing was hard to come by, as banks didn’t believe diners would venture to the tiny town. “In the summer, most of our business comes from Rangeley,” says Rossi. “And in the winter, it’s skiers from Sugarloaf and lots of snowmobilers. There are trails right behind the restaurant.” There was plenty of hard work before the couple could open the restaurant. Before they could even begin renovating, they had to have the building rezoned for commercial use, an excruciating, red-tape-laden process. A thorough renovation brought new life to the old farmhouse, while maintaining its charm, character, and old-house feel. Historic shades of yellow, gray, and lavender cover the walls in the two dining areas and a separate “pantry” room that seats six for private dining. The host area was previously a kitchen, and the new kitchen used to be the garage. The porch, now enclosed and winterized, has a casual feel, with oversized photographs of fresh produce by local photographer John Orcutt. The old wood storeroom has become a snug barroom, known as the Tigerlily Pub, with an L-shaped bar and a few copper-topped tables. An enormous dark wood-framed mirror nearly covers one wall, a piece that once belonged to Rossi’s mother. Behind the bar, her mantel has been repurposed as a shelf for liquor bottles. “People like to eat in here, too. It’s more diners than drinkers,” says Rossi. “The sunset is gorgeous from these windows.” The couple has been resourceful in furnishing the restaurant, buying secondhand Windsor chairs and reupholstering bar stools. The effect is comfortable and appealingly informal, making one feel right at home. There’s even a screen door that slams shut, just like it would at any farmhouse.