Epicurean Adventure on The End

The Montauk Lighthouse on Turtle Hill, photo by S. Dermont
The Montauk Lighthouse on Turtle Hill, photo by S. Dermont

Sundays on the East End—so many options, what’s an epicure to do?

Start the day with brie. Stale baguette slathered with last night’s richest dinner party leftover is much classier than cold pizza.

A survey revealed there’s not much edible in my garden beyond baby arugula, parsley and mints. Thankfully, Better & Dale’s Farmstand is now open next to Bay Burger on the Sag Harbor Turnpike. I loaded up on their famous eggs, bok choy, asparagus, kale and carrots. There’s nothin’ sweeter than an carrot that’s over-wintered on Long Island!

The weather is fine, but we’re not yet in the “the season”—so overland travel is possible. My family headed out to Montauk for the day. I’m ashamed to say that this my first foray INSIDE the Montauk Lighthouse. (I’ve only lived out here for 14 years. George Washington only commissioned this lighthouse in 1792.) What a view! What a history! The first lighthouse built in New York State and our nation’s fourth-oldest remaining lighthouse.

I was also impressed with the collection of Native American artifacts—perhaps the widest range of Indian scrubs (for cleaning pots) on display on the East End. AND there’s a book on display about the East End’s famous native, edible plant—the sagapon. A sign said I could buy a copy in the gift shop, so I scooted down there. False advertising. I’m now stalking Fran, a lady who works there, trying to convince her to photocopy her personal copy of this book for me.

Determined to enjoy the day despite the heartbreak of losing out on vital victual info, I was off to fly a kite on the beach, i.e. watch my son fly one. It was amazing. He put the kite together, held it at arm’s length and whoosh! It sailed off! It was exciting for a few minutes, then my husband and I left him and his girlfriend to tend it while we headed to the snack bar. Fried clams and $14 margaritas tempted but I decided to hold out for lunch. Wise move.

We all motored over to Amagansett Square. After rifling through the East End’s only honest-to-goodness record store, Innersleeve Records, we landed at Hampton Chutney Company. I have no idea what they ate—I had my #14, a huge dosa of roasted beets and butternut squash with goat cheese.

After a day’s adventure, I kept it simple back at the home hearth—green salad, onion quiche and maple syrupy carrots with parsley. And Wölffer wine. Local is best.

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