BY BRYAN MILLER PHOTOGRAPHY BY PAUL GODWIN

It had been more than three years since I'd spent any substantial time in the Hamptons. For a decade before that, though, I came out almost monthly to work with my friend and colleague Pierre Franey developing recipes for his "60Minute Gourmet" column in The New York Times. But even then I had little contact with the dining scene. Who needed a restaurant, when you were cooking with Pierre Franey? 'Thus, when I was asked to check out some of the more traditional spots in the area, I arrived with a clean slate: no history, no preconceptions. _ Well, not exactly. A number of Hamptons veterans warned me about the prandial Pamplona that I would face a situation in which you needed to be the owner's first cousin (or closer) to secure a table; where terrorized English Lit. majors looking for a '`fun" summer job are reduced to cowering, hands over eyes, behind the reservations desk; and where, if a celebrity arrives unexpectedly and wants "the regular table", which happens to be yours, expect to be removed and deposited near the busboy station. What's more, they say, the prices are piratical. Not a promising scenario.
Happily, I experienced just the opposite. In every restaurant I visited, from family cafes to a thundering steakhouse, both the management and servers could not have been more congenial and professional. Also, the food was much better than I had expected, while the prices (all things considered) were not out of bounds. Sure, one can always cavil about the marginal table here or the slow service but, hey, loosen up. You're on vacation.

A HAMPTONS INSTITUTION
My gastronomic SWAT team first assembled in Sag Harbor at the 150-year old American Hotel Like the tide that gently slaps the marina dock, the fortunes of this historic institution have ebbed and peaked over the years. When entrepreneur Ted Conklin took over the moribund brick hostelry in 1972, it had become a glorified shots and beer bar for local salts and recreational boaters. The splendid, historically sensitive restoration puffed up the old bark's sails, attracting a new, and moneyed clientele. As for the food, over the past decade it has been as teetery as a skiff in high swells, but a recent visit suggests that the kitchen has a poised captain in Peter Dunlop.

I dined at the hotel on the tranquil Thursday evening before Memorial Day weekend, which, I admit, is like going to the Yankees' barring practice and leaving before the game. Having arrived early, I waited at the cool, burnished bar, a fine place; to moor while riding out a gale. I had recruited two discriminating dining chums: Sheila Lukins, of The Silver Palate Cookbook fame, who has a home in Sag Harbor, and her friend, Heather, an expatriate South African. (There is a reason for mention of South Africa.) My first impression was the democratic scene at the bar: three bronzed and tousled East Enders right out of their BMW convertible, a gaggle of cooing tourists sipping eerie, absinthe green cocktails, and three wind parched salts bemoaning the price of diesel fuel, which they blamed (by a unanimous and baffling vote) on the Germans.

The hotel's tour Victorian dining rooms deliver on charm that is, if you like richly upholstered Victorian tea rooms. With ornate chandeliers, languid ceiling fans, and nauticals covering nearly every inch of the walls, it is a virtual museum Here comes the South African angle. The hotel is renowned for its wine list, an enormous leather bound tame that requires two athletic waiters to deliver. Just For fun, our friend heather turned to the South African section. "I don't believe it!" she exclaimed. "Some of these wines arc hard to trod in South Africa!" We asked our waiter, Jeff, if he had the 1992 Rust En We& red from Stellenbosch. I envisioned the poor fellow ferreting around in the far reaches of a dank, dark wine cellar desperately searching for this odd and unpronounceable label.

Instead, he replied, "Oh yes, and I know just where the bottle is." Indeed, within ten minutes we were tasting this intense, ripe wine that is a bit overwhelming as an aperitif but wonderful with hearty food. The chef offers an au courant menu blending regional specialties (Block Island Sound crab cocktail, shellfish platter) with French standards like steak au poivre. And then there is an appetizer of "traditional sushi", which seems to indicate chat there, is either one underworked Japanese chef in the kitchen or somebody just winging it. We passed on that and tried the excellent brandade de morue, 3 smooth, garlicky puree of salt cod, potatoes, and olive oil. The texture should be smooth but not pasty and only minimally garlicky, which this one hit on both counts. 1f you like fresh cod, there is a "soufflé" blended with potatoes. Salads, which I believe arc a good touchstone of any kitchen, arc made with care, especially the mache and endive with toasted walnuts For main courses we tried an exceptionally moist roasted duck with a bright citrus ginger glaze and a perfectly cooked filet mignon flanked by earthy morels. I hesitated to order the mixed grill, which can be tricky because it is easy to overcook or undercook one of the ingredients. This one succeeded, with a savory combination of lamb, veal, and pheasant with a red wine sauce and al dente Chinese long beans. Desserts are fine, that's all. Go with the thin crusted apple tart.

(Excerpts from an article that appeared in the September 1999 issue of the Irish "Food and Wine magazine")

By Raymond Blake

… By now night has fallen and we are at our destination, The American Hotel, Sag Harbor. Dating from 1846, the Hotel has been owned by Ted Conklin for nearly 30 years now. In that time he has slowly transformed and renovated it from a completely run down establishment with 24 pokey bedrooms into a cosy jewel of a place with just eight bedrooms. Each has its own character and individual scheme of decoration. Antiques abound but for those with a taste for more modern luxuries a Jacuzzi is standard in every bathroom. After that you can relax in a classic wicker chair or have a nap on your four poster bed, prior to a sumptuous dinner. Here you will be spoilt for choice, not just in the wine list or even the menu but where you should take your meal. The formal dining room may be a little austere for you so why not try the atrium room or another area in the rear where you can dine under portraits of Lincoln or Washington? Wherever you choose you won’t be disappointed and if you enjoy a post prandial cigar the management won’t recoil in horror à la California.

It is the Friday of Thanksgiving weekend that I arrive; and the bustle and animated chatter remind me more of home than anywhere else. Though it is called "The American Hotel" you can forget any notions you may have of US Hotels as rather bland, soullessly efficient places if you want to form an image of this haven. There is no formal perception area as such, just a small lobby which can be crossed in a few strides to take you into the bar and a few strides later you are in one of the many dining areas. All sorts adjectives spring to mind – ‘quaint’, ‘homely’, ‘rustic’ but none can be full justice to the overall package that is the American Hotel. Above all there is a small scale, friendly feel to the place that puts visitors instantly at their ease.

Ted Conklin and his wife Tara Newman work hard to create such an atmosphere, but it barely shows and both seem to have endless time to discuss the hotel (or the wine list!) in the most minute detail….

… Sag Harbour, which takes its name from the Indian word Sagaponack meaning ‘land of the ground nuts’, was once a prosperous whaling village and the hotel started out life as a base for traveling salesmen. By the turn of the century the old prosperity was gone and, as Ted puts it, most of this century has been a tale of woe for Sag Harbour: ‘local depression and prohibition, war, national prohibition, depression, war, local prohibition’, with the vicious cycle only coming to an end in the 1970s.

…Ted and I spent much of the next day rummaging in his cellar. At any one time he has between twenty and twenty-five thousand bottles here and I easily slipped into the role of a schoolboy in a heavenly sweetshop as I spied treasure after treasure. Chateau Margaux 1986, Lafite ’70, Latour ’82, Petrus ’85 or from Burgundy La Tache 1989, Romanée-Conti 1990, or perhaps some Champagne, Krug 1969 or Salon ’83 or … or …Meanwhile, Ted was more focused and after some time had managed to assemble a collection of some 40 bottles for sampling. Just for the hell of it, he threw in a bottle of 1832 Hermitage that he bought at auction in the 1970s. 'We'll open that if you want -it's going to be terrible'. He was right. The physical cellar itself took years to bring to its present functional status. When Ted took over it was filled almost to bursting with coal ash which had to be removed, bucket by bucket, over a couple of winters. At the same time he was gradually renovating upstairs, running the hotel by day, painting by night. It certainly wasn't easy and it took some time but the resultant international reputation which his hotel now enjoys has made it worth it. Such is its attraction that he has played host to the likes of Steven Spielberg, Billy Joel, Julie Andrews, Christie Brinkley, Peter Cook and our own Seamus Heaney and Frank McCourt.

Inevitably we have delayed far too long in the cellar and the heat is now on to get everything ready for dinner. Head chef Peter Dunlop is called in at short notice to prepare the feast. He and Ted agree on an ambitious menu: blue potato, caviar and crème fraîche to start, then baked oysters followed by pasta and truffles, a venison cutlet, goose breast, cheese and finally a devilish chocolate dessert. While all this is being prepared, I set about making a nuisance of myself in the kitchen snooping about and enquiring about the precise preparation of each dish. The guests arrive and, after a brief introduction by Ted, it is down to the serious business of sampling the wines. Some from the late '70s and early '80s have gone the way of all flesh but between five and ten years old there are some very decent Chardonnays and Merlots. The food is excellent, only bettered by the company. There is a close camaraderie, enlivened by a friendly rivalry, among the winemakers. As such it makes a pleasant change from some regions where rival vineyards barely acknowledge each other’s existence.

Sadly the following day it is time to leave but not before I do some hasty shopping in the gift shop that Ted has opened beside the hotel. Here you can get the finest caviar as well as superb crystal champagne flutes and the like. With my suitcase bursting I depart for the airport; fervently hoping that it won't be too long before I return. Without the wine list to engross me the two hour journey seems much longer than before. But that is all it is, two hours from Kennedy Airport to Sag Harbour. If you are planning a stateside trip in the near future and you like something a little different and on a smaller scale to what you usually get in America then you should give serious consideration to a night at the American Hotel. With that thought in mind I sat back in the plane as we rose above New York and through the window watched its jeweled splendour fade into the night.

The DiRoNA Award

2004-The DiRoNA Award, which The American Hotel has won in every year of the Award’s existence, reflects the highest standards for food, wine and spirits, service and atmosphere and value - all the aspects that make dining out a truly fulfilling and culturally enriching experience. Instituted by Distinguished Restaurants of North America, an organization of leading restaurateurs united to foster fine dining, the DiRoNA Award recognizes the establishments in North America that provide the public with the highest level of dining. Teams of inspectors anonymously inspect over 850 restaurants in the United States, Canada and Mexico, measuring them against the most rigorous standards for food, wine and spirits, service, atmosphere and value. American Express Travel Related Services and Hiram Walker & Son, Inc sponsors the DiRoNA Award program