Sundays are sacred in my mind.  Not for any of the religious reasons that they probably should be.  But for me, they just carry this misty grey aura of a contented sigh,  “ahhhhhh, we’re reunited again.”  Sundays are do-no-wrong days for me, and always special.  They are the detente between work weeks, the oft-untouched days of your social calendar (or those reserved only for the people you REALLY want to see), and they invite something cozy, delicious, restful, and sometimes even a bit luxurious.  If you are hazy and hungover, so be it.  If you worked hard and want to get brunchy tipsy, go for it.  If you are fitness junkie and smash yoga in the am, more power to ya.  If your morning rolls into your night so effortlessly that your pj’s never come off… Far be it from me to judge your mojo flow on a Sunday.

Which is how this stellar Sunday came about.  Every East Ender knows that we had our first *real* warm night Saturday, so Casamigos by the fire pit with the pups was in order.  And to my sleepy surprise (& reason behind my strong affection for that tequila<3aaf), we were unaffected enough to wake up at 7:30 for hot yoga.  It was a crowded room full of sweaty messes, good music, and deeeep stretchessss.

Our ensuing brunch was unplanned during a visit to family.  But it ended up consisting of brie and crackers, sea scallops brought fresh from Maine (cooked with cilantro and lime), and crusty bread to soak the sauce.   I’ve never had that flavor profile on scallops, and it was all the things you’d want it to be; acidic, tart, salty, awake, and unfussy on the sweet scallops.  We need not get into the perfect simplicity of a quick-baked brie and trusty Triscuits.

And then I drove to Greenport while my love ran some errands, and all my morning enthusiasm turned to afternoon melancholy …aka… nap time.

Recharged, a quick mint tea at Aldo’s led to stopping into the bookshop and the Weathered Barn, resulting in a postcard and travel purse purchase, respectively.  Because I’m a sucker for snail mail and sales.

Next up was oysters!  Kind of.  Ew.  I still don’t get it, but he’s a big fan.  So when he met me, we went to his favorite: Little Creek.  They have recently added some little finger sandwiches to the menu, a much welcome addition for this non-oyster-eater.  I was a Bordeaux heaux while enjoying that sharp Greek cheese, good butter, tomato… perfect nibbles.  As always the staff impresses with their relaxed ambiance; it’s clearly a place where everyone loves their work.  We’ve been going here since shortly after they opened and the consistency with this energy is admirable.  Here’s my look around on  my first time there…

Enter drinks and apps at American Beech after we walked the puppa; a sweet gin cocktail with chamomile and lavendar, a notable asparagus caesar salad.  Soft lighting and professional attitude, yes; sort of bizarre uniforms, for sure.

And that is when I knew we were veering in to uber-excessive territory – because his craving for a perfect dessert brought us to the real MVP, North Fork Table and Inn, on the way home.

As an aside, we stayed here at the North Fork Inn in 2015.  He surprised me with a night to celebrate the end of my penultimate semester at school.  It is perfectly appointed; simple without being forgettable- clean whites, comfy bed, good bubbly.  The breakfast the next morning (above!) was heartily rustic and refined as well: fresh quiches and fruit, healthy yogurt, not-too-sweet granola, quality tea and coffee.  Highly, highly recommended for an uncumbersome duck away.  We also dined here this past December, and the pillowy potato soup and creamiest truffle pasta were remarkable, below.

But back to this lush af friggen Sunday, we were laughing so hard at the bar that our probably-not-quiet-enough jokes were my favorite part despite a melt-in-your-mouth rhubarb shortcake.  I can’t stress enough my favorite aspect of quality pastry; the ability to be light on the tongue yet SO rich on flavor.  When you are eating butter, flour, cream, and sugar, as we so often are for dessert, I am never more impressed than when those heavy ingredients produce bites light as air.

So that was Sunday.  And typing it out, it definitely sounds as rad as it was.  Suckaaas:*

Also be kind to me on the photo/vid quality.  Real life, pre-blogging-attempt, is not so concerned with perfection as much as capturing the moment to remember it.