Preserving the Past, Pouring the Future

Before anything else, I want to say thank you. Since opening the doors to Otherside Wine Bar, the support from our community in Glen Cove and all of Long Island has been incredible. We’ve seen familiar faces from Southdown Coffee, new friends who wandered in out of curiosity, and wine lovers eager to explore what we’re pouring. This place wouldn’t exist without you, and I’m grateful every night we get to share it.

When we chose this space—the JH Coles Homestead, built in 1810—we knew we weren’t just opening a wine bar. We were stepping into something with history, with a past that predates us by over two centuries. And as we’ve settled in, I’ve realized that in some ways, the work we’re doing here isn’t so different from winemaking itself.

Wine, at its best, is about honoring the past while shaping the future. A winemaker doesn’t just plant vines and expect greatness. They work with the land, respecting the soil and the climate, carrying forward techniques that have been refined for generations. Some of the best wines come from old vines—roots that run deep, gnarled and twisted, producing something complex and beautiful because of their age, not in spite of it. In many ways, our buildout reflects the aesthetics of the natural wines we pour, with minimal intervention on core features of the building (something like terroir) and a focused approach appealing to modern sensibilities while bridging the gap caused by the over-industrialization of winemaking.

This house is its own kind of old vine. The pine floors creak underfoot, worn soft by centuries of footsteps. The locust beams that hold it up rest directly on the earth, as if the house itself is rooted in place. It’s not perfect—it’s drafty, and the layout makes no sense by modern standards—but it has a soul. Just like a winemaker tends to their vineyard, we’ve done our best to honor what’s here, to respect its quirks rather than erase them.

That’s why we keep the lighting warm and low, letting the old wood glow. It’s why we embrace the intimacy of these rooms, their tightness creating the same kind of closeness you’d find in a small, family-run winery. And it’s why we’ve been intentional about our wine list—curating bottles from producers who, like us, believe in working with what nature provides.

Running a restaurant in a 200-year-old house has its challenges, but it also has its poetry. And if we’re lucky, we’ll be able to do what the best winemakers do—nurture something meaningful, let time do its work, and share the results with the people who make it all worth it.

Cheers, and thank you for being part of this.