Tag Archives: breakfast

A Satisfying Summer Meal

At Sotto Sopra in Amagansett

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Delicious Caesar Salad at Sotto Sopra in Amagansett

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The Salumi plate is a great way to start at Sotto Sopra

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Zuppa di Pesce. Yum!

photo 3 Ice cream Tiramisu I was on my own this weekend and decided to stuff my face at Sotto Sopra this Thursday in lovely Amagansett ! ( I’m such an early bird I went at 5pm. Well I take my teeth out by 8 anyway!) I was greeted by nice hostess, then had gorgeous Jessie as my server. I decided to sit in the garden, which was lovely quiet and would have been romantic if my significant other was here! I ordered a bunch of yummy plates! I started off with some cured meats, which were great, and a Caesar salad (one of my all time favs), then went on to zuppa di pesce. The Caesar was good—a bit light on the dressing, but I liked it. The cured meats plate was a meal in itself. It came with roasted peppers, artichokes,  some mozzarella,  and a bit of salad. Generous portions were served! I like that! My eyes are always bigger than my stomach. Mom used to tell me that too.

I was so full when my zuppa di pesce came, but since that’s my fav fav fav I chowed it all down with gusto ! Little pieces of chorizo, mixed with shrimp, clams, oysters, and different types of fish. Very tasty. Then of course there is always room for dessert. Ok then since dessert is fav part of meal I had to have two: tiramisu,which was creamy and excellent,  then as a chaser caramel Oreo ice cream. Sooo good.

Well there you have it. When your next out in Amagansett check out Sotta Sopra.

—Lauren Ezersky

 Sotto Sopra
231 Main Street
Amagansett, NY 11930

(631) 267-3695




Sotto Sopra Scores

 Worth a Visit in Amagansett

Sotto Sopra

Sotto Sopra offers fine dining in Amagansett.

The owners of Sotto Sopra (who also own Bobby Van’s) are bold and courageous. Brave and true. They have opened a classy restaurant in a spot where nothing ever lasts that long, even though it’s right on Montauk Highway in the heart of Amagansett. This new incarnation, Sotto Sopra, should change the fortunes of that location. There are a lot of reasons why it should succeed… from the welcoming light and airy space to the thoughtful menu, to the food itself.

We stopped in  for a late Saturday lunch recently and snagged a table in the pleasant and quiet back terrace. Of course, it’s the staff that presents the first, and lasting, impression of a restaurant, and here we were greeted by a cheery and attractive hostess who turned us over to our solicitous waiter. He didn’t miss a beat in delivering a basket of fresh bread and bowl of olive oil. We each ordered a glass of wine for the nifty wine list, Pinot Noir for Lauren and Riesling for me. We were given the choice of ordering from the brunch or lunch menu. We weren’t feeling very brunchy so we opted for lunch.

Portrait of Lauren with Pinor Noir

Lauren enjoys a glass of pinor noir at Sotto Sopra

The first (and only) disappointment of the afternoon occurred not long after we were seated. Lauren was bummed  to learn that the lobster roll was sold out.

No matter, we started with a crostini for Lauren and a arugula salad for me. I swear, I had never seen a bigger heap of arugula. With match sticks of fresh apple and a few delicious cherry tomatoes, with truffle dressing on the side, it was a great start.  Lauren enjoyed her steak sandwich with aoli. While I fell in love with my Linguine Mollusco: tender little neck clams in the shell or pasta with a lovely garlic sauce dotted with chiles. I emptied the breadbasket, sopping up the sauce after the clams were gone.

insalata fresca  with arugula, tomatoes, and apples.

The insalata fresca at Sotto Sopra is a magnificent heap of aruglua.

On to desert. We had a crazy layered crepe kinda thing and some knock-your-socks off chocolate mint gelato.

It turned out to be a wonderful, relaxing meal. We’ll be back.

Sotto Sopra

231 Main St.

Amagansett, NY 11930

(631) 267-3695




The End of Brunch

The End of Brunch: What Defines This Strange Weekend Meal?

Alcohol is a Key Ingredient of Brunch

I am happy to report that the Age of Brunch is over. Just about anyway. Oh, all the folks blithely enjoying their weekend mimosas and eggs Benedict think that brunch will always be in fashion. After all, it has been more than 100 years since Punch magazine declared in 1896, “to be fashionable now, we must brunch.”


And brunch we do. From sunup to sundown every weekend, in New York and cities across America, people are going out to brunch. They’re engaging in it, and enjoying it. But can someone please tell me exactly what the heck brunch is?

The simple answer, according to the OED, is that brunch is a combination of breakfast and lunch. The dictionary informs us that the word itself was coined by a Mr. Guy Beringer in Hunter’s Weekly in 1895.

But neither Mr. Beringer nor the OED really explains what makes brunch brunch, as distinct from breakfast or lunch. Is it the food? It’s not the food. Eggs, for example, a brunch staple, are also breakfast food. They are prepared for brunch exactly the same way as for breakfast. Brunch favorites—burgers and salads—are also served at lunch and dinner. If brunch were a true combination of breakfast and lunch it would combine the dishes as well, e.g. eggs with hamburgers. That indeed is a dish I’ve enjoyed, a regional Rhode Island specialty hamburger patty with a fried egg on top. But I ate those on my half-hour lunch break in Portsmouth. That clearly was not brunch because I was on deadline. I had a schedule, I had somewhere to be after I ate, unlike folks enjoying brunch, which is a meal that in theory can stretch to infinity—or at least Monday morning. Is it the time? Yes, it’s the time, to a certain extent. Brunch is characterized by a sense of leisure.

And yes, it has to be on the weekend. Saturday or Sunday with a long day and lazy evening stretching out in front of you.

For me, as a boy growing up on a farm, those long lazy days were non-existent. Even on weekends, there was always work to get back to. So you can understand my bafflement about brunch.

I’m quite sure my Dad, a lifelong farmer, never ate brunch. He probably never spoke the word “brunch.” That’s not to say he wouldn’t like brunch. He would appreciate any excuse to eat. On the farm, my father routinely ate a second breakfast around 10 a.m. As I recall, it was pretty much the same as the first breakfast (or as he called it “breffist”—peanut butter on white bread, folded, dunked in his coffee. These days, you probably won’t find peanut butter on the brunch menu, unless it’s tucked into a crepe or incorporated into some brunch dessert

Does the eater define brunch? To a degree.

Do Real Men Eat Brunch?

My father was a real man, a regular guy. I believe that a regular guy couldn’t care less about brunch. If he’s at brunch, nine times out of ten he’s there because his girlfriend suggested it. However, he does like the idea of having permission to start drinking in the morning. If that requires ordering a hamburger and calling it brunch, so be it. Girls like brunch. Guys will do what girls like. Straight guys do anyway. And gay guys just plain like brunch.

So just because I am a brunch idiot why do I posit that brunch has reached the apex of its ascendency?

Go to the epicenter of the brunch world, the restaurant Pastis in the Meat Packing District of New York. If brunch wasn’t invented there, it should have been.  And you will suppose, from the long lines and the high prices, that brunch has never been more popular. Folks will wait hours to paying seventeen bucks for a couple of eggs—the very same eggs that are eleven dollars during the week. That’s a six dollar surcharge for the privilege of calling them brunch. You’ll find l’oeufs on the brunch menu at Pastis, as well as their salades and garnitures. But you won’t find the French word for brunch. Why? There is no French word for brunch. The French do not need a magic word to justify spending all day in a café eating and drinking.

Unrest in the Land of Brunch

But look around at the outer reaches of Brunchville and there are signs of unrest. There’s something brewing besides coffee—and that something is trouble. First there was Permanent Brunch, a restaurant in the Lower East Side that promised brunch all day, every day. It seemed like a sure thing. It shuttered soon after opening. Why? Once you experience brunch on a Tuesday at 6 p.m. you realize it’s not so special anymore. It’s not hard to figure out that anything permanent cannot be special. (See marriage.)

But a worse sign of the coming brunch apocalypse is offered by Meat Hook butcher shop in Williamsburg. It’s fitting that the home of the hipster is also home to the first ironic brunch. At the Meat Hook, they’ve set up a single table in front of the counter, where for $50 a head guests get to enjoy a “tasting menu” that might include a slice of leftover pizza with Miller High Life, saltines with chocolate and coffee, schnapps and beef jerky followed by lentil soup.

Well, it does meet the main criteria of brunch: alcohol. Plenty of it. But seems to me that once brunch becomes ironic its days are numbered.

So if you’ll excuse me, it’s the weekend, and I’m going out for a late morning meal. I’m in the vanguard of the next fashionable thing. Eggs over easy, home fries and bacon. And a big mug of coffee. I’m calling it breffist.

And for me, that will be the end of brunch.

The Clarkeston B&B in Newport

Very nice bed and breakfast


We spent a couple of nights, post Christmas, in Newport, but rather than staying at a hotel chain like Holiday Inn or Hilton, or looking for a cheap hotel through Priceline or Expedia, we decided to do the Bed & Breakfast thing. We chose the Clarkeston Inn on Clarke Street. Well, actually, that’s not totally true. Originally, we were booked at the Melville, just down the street, but were upgraded to a room in the Clarkeston. They are both, along with several others on Clarke St., part of the Inns of Newport. Most are on the register of Historic Places. Clapboard, cape cod style buildings. Even though it was an upgrade, our room was a bit small, though it did have a working fireplace which made for romantic evenings. problem was, it was on the first floor, right sandwiched between the front door and the kitchen, and right across from the dining room so it was a bit noisy in the mornings. Breakfast there was good—pancakes, eggs, french toast, coffee, juice—though not outstanding. The location couldn’t have been better. We rolled out of bed in the morning and walked the streets finding all kinds of cool shops and antique dealers.