Figuring out what to title the articles I write is always the hardest part –writing 1500 words is easy. It’s when the words are written and I have to figure out what title to give it, that I’m always stumped. When I read books and come across the title of the book in the work itself, it makes me smile to think how clever that was of the author. But here I am writing about our seasonal Island restaurants and trying to figure out a way to encapsulate it all into a few words for a title, when it hit me. “The Last Supper of Summer”, how perfect! If you’ve seen me sitting at the front pews of St. Elizabeth’s Church on Main Street, this makes sense to you. You might also wonder why a millennial is saying the word supper instead of dinner. It’s not typically in my vocabulary to say “let’s go out for supper” but in this, it works and I’m going to run with it. That being said, let’s get into this month’s piece, an ode to the seasonal restaurants that grace us with their presence from May through September.
It seems that the general sentiment is that we all want to support local–whether year-round or seasonal. At the end of the day, there’s a place for both of them, and today we’re giving a loud round of applause to the seasonal restaurants. This is by no means a complete list, there are plenty more Island spots deserving of thank-yous, but these are a few that my friends and I found ourselves returning to all summer long: 19 Raw Oyster Bar & Steakhouse, Aalia’s Coffee, Among the Flowers, Atlantic Fish & Chop House, Atria, Back Door Donuts, Behind the Bookstore, Big Dipper Ice Cream, Biscuits, Black Joy, Coop de Ville, Detente, The Dunes, Fat Ronnie’s, Gio’s, Homeport Restaurant, Iggy’s Bread, Jetty Beach House, MV Salads, Nancy’s Restaurant, Nomans Restaurant, Outermost Inn, Pelican Club, and The Port Hunter.
Labor Day weekend on Martha’s Vineyard doesn’t feel like a holiday so much as it feels like a warning bell. Nobody rings it out loud, there’s no announcement, but you feel it the moment you wake up that Monday morning after the weekend. The ferry terminals are still busy, the beaches are still pretty populated, and yet everyone on this island, the ones who live here through it all, knows exactly what this weekend is. It’s the unofficial last call. It’s the final round and if you’ve been paying attention all summer, you have a list of spots you need to make it to before the end of the month. Here’s how I want to play out the first weekend of the last summer month, in what I like to call “The Last Supper of Summer”.
On a Friday, I would start my own version of a farewell tour the way I start every morning, with coffee. Aalia’s is my first stop on this day, for a Mrs. Pembroke breakfast sandwich. When I tell you I’ve had my eye on this for months and have yet to consume it, you might not even believe it but here’s what it is: scrambled eggs with chives, goat cheese, pesto, and pepper jelly served on a soft Martin’s potato roll. Add in a side of those extra special (and actually gluten free for those that care) hash browns and I’m set. Oh and don’t forget the coffee–at Aalia’s I’ll always do a cardamom cortado. I’m hoping September at Aalia’s means that the wait is shorter than five minutes, because if you’ve driven or walked down Kennenbec at any time this summer during the open hours, you know how busy that spot has been.
By midday, I’d make my way to MV Salads, because if there’s one thing I’ve learned about eating your way through a farewell weekend, it’s that you have to pace yourself. A big salad, something bright and green and full of local vegetables would be the responsible choice before what I already know is going to be a weekend of considerably less responsible choices. I haven’t been in all summer and it will be time to say hello to Susanna and order a Campground Smok’n Chicken Salad, with their MV The Dressing Green Goddess dressing. A watermelon cooler is always a must to pair with my salad.
Fat Ronnie’s will not help that resolve by nighttime and neither will Big Dipper. But let’s be honest–ice cream in September hits differently than ice cream in July, it tastes like something you’re trying to hold onto rather than something you’re taking for granted. I am planning this strategically because I know I will then want to walk over to Back Door Donuts with my ice cream, so I can order a warm apple fritter from Sam and proceed to have a bite of fritter with my ice cream. I never said this was going to be a responsible weekend.
Saturday will belong to dinner, or more accurately, dinners. Dare I stop into three restaurants for dinner in one night? I bet I can, if I plan it out correctly and if it’s the only meal I eat that day. Like I said, I’m not here to give you nutritional or diet advice. I’ll start with Detente, a restaurant that has the sort of quiet, confident energy of a place that knows exactly what it is and doesn’t need to prove it to anyone walking in the door. It’s sad to say that I haven’t had their Peach & Taleggio Salad all summer long, but this will be the dish kicking off this adventure. Maybe saying hi to Chef Kevin in the kitchen will tempt me to also order their bolognese; it’s a great dish to share, I promise you.
Atlantic Fish & Chop House will ne up next for that Angry Shrimp entree that I can’t stop thinking about. I’ve had it twice this summer and need it one more time. Chef Mauricio will be in the kitchen, getting his team excited for another night where they’ll do hundreds of covers. The energy on that pass is always palpable. Maybe the walk from the Atlantic all the way to Atria will help me digest what’s been consumed up to now, but I know what I’ll want from Chef Christian; an order of his Crispy Wok Fired Calamari, and the McRip Off burger, of course. It’s important to tell you now that I’m not doing this farewell tour alone. I plan on bringing at least one, if not two friends, to do this with me, splitting dishes as we go.
Sunday, I’ll let myself slow down, slightly. I haven’t stood in line at Biscuits in years, but here’s to hoping mid-September might be the perfect time for a quick in and out breakfast? It feels like the right plan after Saturday’s ambitions. I’ll take it easy, because I plan to have also made reservations at Outermost Inn for a sunset and dinner. Can you believe I’ve never had dinner there? I once stopped in for brunch, years ago when that was a regular offering. I’m also considering (if I want to keep it more casual), dinner at The Pelican Club, Nomans, The Wave, or the Homeport Restaurant.
At this point I’m unsure about what’ll be open on Labor Day itself. In an ideal world, I can try to stop by Among the Flowers for breakfast, Behind the Bookstore for coffee, Coop de Ville for wings, Gio’s for a slice, and dinner at potentially three spots: The Port Hunter, Nancy’s, and Jetty Beach House. If anything, I am determined to get it all in before the season officially turns.
Here’s the thing about seasonal restaurants that I think doesn’t get said enough. These are not just businesses that happen to close for part of the year. These are entire lives rebuilt every single spring and dismantled every single fall. The people behind these restaurants pour themselves into roughly one hundred and twenty days, knowing full well that it all pauses again come October. There’s something almost devotional about that kind of commitment, showing up fully for a season you know is temporary, and giving it everything anyway. Maybe that’s why “supper” ended up feeling like the right word after all. Supper has always implied something communal, something gathered, something you sit down for on purpose rather than something you just grab on your way through the day.
So if this was my last supper of summer, spread out over restaurants instead of one single table, shared with an Island full of people who understand exactly what this weekend means without anyone having to explain it, it will be magical. These places will be back in April or May, waiting for us the same way they always do. But this particular summer, this exact version of it, only happens once. I intend to keep eating like I am honoring that, right up until the very last plate is cleared and the last cook gets to clock out and go home.
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