A few blocks from the C train stop in Prospect Heights, there is a small restaurant. During the day, it serves sandwiches made with pasture-raised chicken, omelets made from the eggs of free-range hens, fresh baked biscuits, and other brunch delights. But at night, currently, it’s serving a play with a free side of soup.

The play is called Oh, Honey, written by Jeana Scotti and running until November 7. It is about four moms (played by Jamie Ragusa, Dee Pelletier, Mara Stephens, and Maia Karo) who regularly meet up for brunch. And what better place to stage a play like that than at a restaurant known for its brunch offerings? “When we were doing rehearsals, sometimes people would just try to come in and we'd be like, ‘Sorry, we're not serving,’” says Scotti with a wry chuckle.

Like many artists living in New York City, Scotti has many jobs: She is a playwright, she teaches at SUNY Purchase, she runs a small theatre company called Ugly Face, and (four days a week) she is also a server at Little Egg, a longtime Brooklyn staple known for its brunch made with locally sourced ingredients. Last year, when Scotti was looking for a venue to present her play Oh, Honey, she wanted to do it in a local restaurant.

Luckily, Little Egg doesn’t do dinner service. Remarks Scotti, proudly, “I don't know if [owner Evan Hanczor] knew [what] he was signing on for when he said I can put up a play in the restaurant. But I'm really glad that they said yes.” And considering how many theatre artists work in the service industry as a side gig, the connection felt natural. “So many of us are working in restaurants, and restaurant spaces are their own natural theatres, they’re kind of theatrical all the time. So for me, it was like a dream and no-brainer to put it in this space.”

Oh, Honey originally ran last year at Little Egg. Following sold-out shows and positive reviews, Off-Off-Broadway theatre companies New Light Theater Project, New Georges, and Clubbed Thumb stepped in to offer support for a remount. So now, Oh, Honey is back on the menu again at Little Egg.

The seemingly light setting of the play, inside of a restaurant at brunch time, is a stark contrast to its depth. The play is about four mothers who meet regularly for brunch. What ties these women together? All of their sons were accused of sexual assault. Scotti was inspired by Chanel Miller’s memoir Know My Name, and a 2017 New York Times article about a support group for mothers of sons accused of sexual assault. It got her curious about how such willful blindness occurs.

“They do hire teams to dig up information on survivors. It's awful. And I was just really interested in the psychology of what they must be repressing in order to do this,” says Scotti.

It’s an incredibly intimate venue, just 27 people. The audience is seated facing the booth table right in front of the front windows. The actors enter and exit through the front door of the restaurant (there's an awning and umbrellas to shield from rain). One actor (Carmen Berkeley), playing the server in the play, walks through the audience. The house lights are kept on the entire time, so the audience can see each other as well as the actors, adding to the sense of being voyeurs. And also of being complicit, especially as the mothers underplay what their sons did or make excuses for it.

As Scotti notes: “Unfortunately, a lot of us have experiences knowing someone who has also been accused of assault, especially if you lived on a college campus. Just thinking about my own experiences in my own circles of people that have been accused, and then how everyone kind of responded … Sometimes the first [reaction], unfortunately, is like, ‘No, I know that person. That doesn't feel like them.’”

Producing your show yourself isn't easy—last year, Scotti not only wrote the play and found the venue, she also served soup, snacks, and beverages to audience members before the show. This year, Scotti and fellow co-producers Maia Karo, Amelie Lyons, and Thalia Sablon were able to expand their production budget so they could hire additional personnel for the show. Says Scotti, with relief: “We hired some additional people [this year]. Because last year was just the three of us doing too many roles. So this time, we realized that’s not sustainable.” 

But it’s still a humble affair; Scotti is still serving the audience beverages and soup at every performance (the soup, which is tomato and vegan, is free with the ticket purchase).

In a time when there is less and less funding for the arts, more companies are in danger of closing their doors, and rent keeps going up—up-and-coming artists like Scotti face an additional challenge. But that doesn’t deter them. Even in today’s harsh economic climate, artists continue to persevere.

​​”The community that I'm part of is making really exciting work. And a lot of them are doing it themselves, which I love," notes Scotti. "People are not waiting for someone to say, ‘Okay, I'll produce your piece.’ A lot of people are like, ‘Oh, I can. I can figure out a way we can work together that can really help each other out.’ So in that way, I love it.” She then adds, with a chagrin, “Other ways it can be frustrating.”

It’s a warm bit of comfort, like a bowl of soup on a cold night. Though Scotti helpfully adds that there’s also pie on the menu: “On Wednesday and Thursdays, they have sandwiches and pies and chips that you can buy ahead of time. And then for other performances, we have Chef Patti Jackson. She's an amazing Michelin star chef … her pies are out of this world.” A well-crafted play and some pie, what can be more delicious?

Visit UglyFaceTheatre.com.