EAST COAST GRILL

By DAVID DAY | PHOTOS BY DAVID DAY

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Sunday brunch is a critical scene at ECG, overflowing with patrons waiting for a keen munching table. As for me, I grab a seat at the bar. Brian, a friendly faced bartender only too happy with his shift, immediately sets me up. I ask for his choice and he jets to the kitchen. "I got just the thing," he says. Oh god.

Drink 1: Jalapeño margarita ($9.50). It doesn't taste quite as deadly as it sounds, with Brian carving up the pepper razor-thin and muddling the pieces in the Patrón. Garnished with the final, gloriously green slice, it's a refreshingly sweet delight, the sugar cutting the spices right in half. Brian's got his hands full for sure, as he's also responsible for manning the raw bar as orders come shooting down on the zip line. "Can you get me a ramekins on the fly?" he yells to a server. "Thug life!"

Drink 2: Mimosa ($8.50). The bustling crowd seems to be moving on from their Bloody Marys—concocted at the "World's Largest Make-Your-Own Bloody Mary Bar," natch—so now the mimosa drinks come fast and furious, with pulpalicious fresh-squeezed orange juice ("20 minutes ago," says Brian) and Bouvet Champagne. It goes perfectly with Amilcar's Omelet, a multi-salsa'd extravagance with delicious guava jelly. Amilcar has worked at the restaurant more than 15 years. Next to me, fellow bruncher Tracy pulls up with her daughter Stella, who's starting kindergarten this fall. She has a Barbie laptop and gets an orange juice.

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Drink 3: Planter's Punch ($7.50). "Party party party party," says Stella, decorating her juice with a plastic mule, steer, monkey and, her favorite, a mermaid. Party, indeed. My punch features East Coast Grill's handmade Tranquillo: dark rum, light rum, sour mix, pineapple, vanilla, orange juice, grenadine and god knows what else. Brian ceases to smile.

Drink 4: Mint Julep ($8.50). "A Southern gentleman," says Brian. "This personifies this place because we take big, bold flavors and funk it up, put it in your face." No kidding. I feel like I'm in a delicious boxing match. ESG, four; me, zero.

Drink 5: Bloody Mary ($7.50). It'd be stupid to come here and miss out on the Bloody Mary bar, which I save for last. With my pint of ice and vodka, complete with pepper rim, I throw in extra pepper, a big dash of Worcestershire sauce, a couple of scoops of white pepper, a big dollop of horseradish and something they call "inner beauty" sauce ("That's enough," says Brian). Fucking yumsterville. I find out Brian and his bartending buddy Jim are roommates and have known each other for 20 years. "He used to pick me up in his car and, on his mixtape, about 20 minutes in, Sheryl Crow would be blasting. He turned and looked at me ... 'You can't tell anyone.'"