That’s What Friends Are For

by Kurt Epps, a.k.a. The PubScoutDec 15, 2025Online Exclusives, Pub Scout, Restaurants, South Brunswick

The PubScout and friends check out Ocean Isle Beach’s newest Italian restaurant, D’Amici Ristorante, and are most impressed.

The Missus was up in Jersey babysitting our newest granddaughter, and that meant I’d be “batching” it for a few days. As Fate would have it, my buddy Neal (the unofficial “mayor” of OIB) was in the same boat, as his wife was in New York visiting her grandchildren.

So we made plans to attend “choir practice” at the venerable No Name Lounge, then afterwards repair, along with Father Dave, to OIB’s newest Italian restaurant called D’Amici Ristorante to check it out. D’ Amici, which opened on November 18, 2025, had been getting some good word-of-mouth reviews among the local cognoscenti.

An older man with glasses and a gray Harley-Davidson shirt gives a thumbs up while sitting next to a young woman in black smiling at the camera in a warmly lit room.

Southeastern Brunswick County has no dearth of good places to dine, especially for those who are devoteés of Italian fare. Succinctly put, it now has another.

Lodged in a building that has hosted a few other eateries, namely Joey O’s, Michael’s Pizza and the recently closed Manor House, D’Amici is the product of co-owners Chef Michele Doto and Malena Royson.

Doto works his wizardry in the kitchen, while Royson is the face of the franchise at the front of the house. And you couldn’t want a better face or a nicer person doing your front-of-house work.

A chef wearing a white jacket and black apron stands in a commercial kitchen, holding a dish towel and looking at the camera. Stainless steel appliances and cooking tools are visible in the background.

In fact, one of the things that impressed our trio throughout our visit was that every single person involved with this business was as friendly and nice as could be.

Nor was that friendliness a business front. From Royson and her cute-as-a-button assistant, Mea, to our server Ashley to her colleague Anna (a wannabe Harley Lady), we were made to feel immediately welcome and comfortable, as though dining at the home of old friends.

“Mayor” Neal, whose very presence caused a queue of acquaintances to come to our table and genuflect, commented, “I’ve been going to restaurants for a long time, and I’ve never been in a place where everyone was this friendly.” I think he included prison.

And since Abe Lincoln took Neal’s birthday off, his “long time” meant something. But he was dead on the money with his comment. Methought, “If the food here is as nice as the staff, we’re golden.”

Call us the Midas Men. I knew it as soon as Ashley, after taking our drink orders, wheeled a large cheese wheel (3 feet in diameter) table side, calling it “grana padano.”

A large wheel of hard cheese, partially scraped and crumbled on top, sits on a dark cloth with metal cheese tongs resting on it; people and wooden furniture are visible in the background.

It’s a special cheese that is creamier, richer and more pungent than Parmesan — and positively delicious. That it accompanied a perfectly baked ring of house-made bread indicated we were in for a culinary adventure.

As good as the bread and cheese were, it was time to order some appetizers. For me, Ashley suggested something called Suppli — a wonderfully delicate, crusty risotto, potato, grana, mozzarella and marinara concoction. It reminded me of a perfect arancini.

Three pieces of stuffed pasta topped with tomato and cream sauce are served on a light pink plate, dusted with grated cheese, on a wooden table.

Neal ordered Crespelle, a thin crepe surrounding a mushroom, spinach, Prosciutto and béchamel mixture.

Father Dave ordered Clams Portofino that came with over a dozen clams in it, all soaked in a delectable seasoned broth.

A white bowl filled with steamed clams, sautéed vegetables, and two pieces of toasted bread, garnished with a purple orchid flower. Two people sit at the table in the background.

If the apps were each extra-base hits (my Suppli was an inside-the-park homer), the entrees were Grand Slams.

The Mayor, enjoying his Spinach Cannelloni between visits from his subjects, was most pleasantly surprised at how good it was. Likewise, Father Dave raved about his Veal Scallopine, and my Chicken Marsala was outstanding, with three large, thinly sliced and tender pieces of chicken in a very different, very good Marsala sauce.

A plate of chicken marsala topped with mushrooms and sauce, garnished with chopped herbs and a purple orchid, sits on a white textured plate with a drink visible in the background.

Needless to say, we were all way too full for dessert. But, before we could waddle out, the devil-disguised-as-an-angel Ashley suggested we split a pistachio cake, which she said was “to die for.” Satan, you may recall, said the same thing.

So, to give us some protection from sin, Father Dave consented to put the confection on his tab.

O.M.G.

Both the Mayor and I will be putting extra donations in Father Dave’s collection plate next week at choir practice.

And as though the pistachio cake wasn’t sin enough, the Crafty One brought out three special cookies called “Brutti Ma Buoni,” which translates to “ugly but good.”

Three cookies topped with powdered sugar are arranged on a white paper doily placed on a plain white plate, set on a light wooden table.