“Oh Honey,” a play about motherhood, guilt, and the food service industry is now playing at a restaurant in Prospect Heights.

Actor Carmen Berkeley, dressed plainly in jeans and an apron, strutted down the isle past a captive audience, armed with a water pitcher and a tuna salad sandwich. She was almost indistinguishable from the real servers. 

Earlier that evening, Little Egg, a Prospect Heights eatery, transformed the quiet diner into a performance space for the return of Oh, Honey, a show that previously ran through September 2024 to consistently sold out crowds.  

Written by Jeana Scotti and directed by Carsen Joenk, the play is a site specific production that seats 27 people shoulder to shoulder. Upon arrival, each audience member is served a steaming mug of tomato soup. On Wednesdays and Thursdays, patrons can pre order food from Little Egg’s kitchen. All other showings also offer meals prepped by chef Patti Jackson.

“I think that audiences have certain expectations when they go into spaces they’re familiar with theaters,” Joenk told BK Reader. “I’ve done a show on a squash court, and we’re doing this show in the restaurant, I think it just it’s a good catalyst for being able to experience something very openly.”

oh-honey-featuring-carmen-berkeley-photo-by-krystal-pagan
“Oh, Honey,” features actor Carmen Berkeley. Photo: Supplied/Krystal Pagan.

Oh, Honey is based loosely on a 2017 New York Times article about a group of mothers whose sons have been accused of sexual assault. Set entirely in a diner, the mothers meet once a month to gripe about their lives (in the style of Bravo’s Real Housewives TV franchise) and reckon with the legal and ethical consequences of their childrens’ actions. 

The production is the first play put on by Ugly Face Theatre, a production company created by Scotti and actor Maia Karo who plays one of the mothers, Vicki. The cast is rounded out with Dee Pelletier, Jamie Ragusa and Mara Stephens as the mothers, and Berkeley as the waitress. 

Oh, Honey ungulates from quiet meditations on guilt, shame and motherhood to ostentatious one-liners in the style of Real Housewives taglines. Despite its serious subject matter, Scotti measures humor and grief in equal balances. 

“I have, I don’t know if it’s a love or mere obsession with Real Housewives,” said Scotti. “I’m drawn to worlds that feel dramatic, but that there is a ground of reality that you know? I think that there’s multiple sides of what reality is and how everyone is feeling within it.”

The play also grapples with the quirks of the service industry. Notably, Berekely’s character Mari crawls across the bar mid performance–close enough to the audience that a few people duck to avoid splatters of salad dressing. 

Scotti thinks there is a natural throughline between theater and the food service industry. Outside her life as a playwright, Scotti is also a server at Little Egg. 

“I think food service industry people and theater people are really similar––you really develop a community,” said Scotti. “You know what it takes to pull together to make something work at times.”

And unique to the setting, a staff member asked the audience to step outside immediately after the performance. “We’ve got to turn this place back into a restaurant for tomorrow,” she said.

Oh, Honey will run until Nov. 7 at Little Egg, located at 657 Washington Ave. A limited number of $30 community tickets are also available for service industry professionals and neighborhood community members.