Once upon a time, there was a small Caribbean-themed seafood shack named Cyril’s on the side of a long stretch of highway connecting the Hampton villages with the ‘end of the world’ (Montauk). It was a no-frills bar with plastic furniture and direct views of the LIRR train that would rumble past. It was a…
My grandfather was a tremendous cook. From pies to roast turkeys, a meal wasn’t complete unless there were floured handprints on the cherry cabinets and bowls littering the granite countertops.