Some people think this is the best place in Sarasota for breakfast. That might be true, but there are more reasons to eat at the Oasis than the food.
The interregnum between summer and Season means we can observe native Sarasotans undiluted by exotic species. Just as in the Masai Mara, prime wildlife spotting coincides with sun-up and sun-down, and for guaranteed success be near a water-hole.
Apropos then is a place called the Oasis. At opening time on a Sunday you will likely bag the following big game:
~ The lone octogenarian man who has just finished his egg on toast and single mug of decaf. How did he order and eat so quickly?
~ The Ferrari-driving sixty-something who knows all the staff by name (and their net worth and that of everyone he lays eyes on.)
~ The fussy grandparent-types who decades ago gave up on original conversation and now limit themselves to wondering – aloud – whether that is milk or half-n-half in the jug.
~ Golden-aged couples grateful for early church services so they can get down to the real business of winter Sundays: breakfast and football.
Hemingway territory this is not. All our meals might have been made more lively had he busted through the door with a loaded elephant gun clutching a recently dead wildebeest…but no such luck. Instead, everyone ate their oatmeal and eggs, sipped their tea and coffee, and quietly broke their fast.