It’s April in the Hamptons and the tension in the air seems to be predicting a hot summer. And no, I’m not talking about the climate. The traffic has picked up, real estate brokers run amok, and landscapers’ voicemail boxes are full. At the corner of Montauk Highway and Ocean Road in Bridgehampton, Almond, oozing vibe and vigor, is celebrating 25 years on the East End.

Rumors of who’s opening what and where are flying, the way they do every year, but there’s something reassuring in the fact that in Almond’s basement kitchen, chef and co-owner Jason Weiner is pickling new asparagus, while in the dining room his business partner and pal Eric Lemonides is already finding ways to accommodate regulars, never mind the full reservation book.

It’s a long way from April 2001, when the duo opened “on a shoestring” at 1970 Montauk Highway (now the site of Armin & Judy).

“We’d bought a 1970s brown van,” said Lemonides recently, “and toured restaurant auctions to buy our entire kitchen.”

Silverware and glassware were mismatched. A salad cost $7 and no bottle of wine came in at more than $40.

“We wanted to be a sort of ‘Unhampton’ Pastis rip-off,” said Weiner, referring to the iconic classic French bistro in New York City’s Meatpacking District.

The copycat idea may have worked well, but the restaurant would soon make its own mark. To survive and even thrive in the off-season in the Hamptons is every restaurateur’s dream. Many don’t make it.

“We had no idea we would see babies in bassinets grow up, sometimes come work for us, get married and return, twenty years later, with their own kids,” said Lemonides.

Is that the code? Hospitality guru Danny Meyer believes restaurateurs need to learn as much as possible about their guests, but this goes beyond his theory. It’s called life.

“We never considered the East End of Long Island as a market that needed to be exploited,” said Weiner. “Even after all the ways the Hamptons have changed, it’s still a small-town vibration. We leaned into this.”

Chefs around the world continue to tout the overexposed farm-to-table moto, but whose menu out there offers Marylee’s fried potatoes, Art’s cheese or Paul’s poached egg, all within a few miles of the source?

Could this be the code?

“If you run a steakhouse in Midtown Manhattan, you have a clear mission,” said Lemonides. “You want men in suits ordering bottles of red. Here, we don’t have a single mission or type of customers. Everyone comes to Almond.”

It wasn’t a slam dunk. A few months after the opening, planes hit the Twin Towers and the world shook. That night, the duo wondered whether they should just close, but soon decided they wanted to be with others, with friends.

“People came that night, that week, that whole month,” said Lemonides. “Some were crying and that’s when we realized what greeting your guests really meant.”

When Almond (named for Weiner’s wife) moved down the road after ten years, the duo brought their warm hospitality and their particular combination of “chill and vibe,” in the words of the chef. They left behind the dark room, low-ceilings, and loud music.

“We literally grew up,” said Lemonides. “Suddenly we were dealing with a fancier location, a huge room and a 120-year-old real tin ceiling.”

As far as the food, though, they believe guests come to have a good time and don’t want esoteric or challenging, whether it’s food, service or décor. The chef now makes his own style of what he calls “peasant food,” but it’s not only French these days. It’s Mediterranean, it’s Korean, it’s street food.

So how did they crack the code? Perhaps it has to do with the fact that the two men have known each other since they were six?

“I may not always agree with Jason,” said Lemonides, “but I know he’s always striving for Almond to be the best it can be.”

They refer to their partnership as a marriage, sometimes a good one and sometimes a bad one. They admit that for the most part, they do agree with each other and have enough in common to keep it going. They’ve weathered restaurant closings (Almondito, Zigmund, outposts in Palm Beach and New York City), and Covid, and successfully run L&W, the marketplace nearby that doubles as the storefront for their busy catering operation.

Will there be new projects? New recipes? New venues?

“Maybe, if they seem fun and sexy,” says Lemonides.

So that code? From this side of the table, I’d say it’s called passion!