Tucked away on the historic, brick-lined stretch of Madison Street, Via Coquina feels less like a retail space and more like a carefully curated sanctuary of Mediterranean soul. For owner Cara Polites Ferro, the shop is a living extension of her Greek heritage, rooted in a childhood spent immersed in the culture of her mother’s native Andros and her father’s roots in the Peloponnese. What began as a mission to source artisan-made Greek goods that bypassed the reach of “big brands” has evolved into a global destination for those seeking the “modern heirloom.” While Main Street may draw the crowds, Cara intentionally chose this quieter corner of Sag Harbor to stand alongside fellow independent spirits, creating a design mecca that rejects the sterile, chain-store aesthetic in favor of something far more tactile and permanent.
The heart of the store beats in its commitment to what Cara calls the “dying arts.” From Egyptian hand-embroidery to the traditional sandal makers of Capri, the inventory is a deliberate rebellion against mass production. “I like to try to find people who are making things in the traditional ways and kind of preserving these old crafts,” Cara explains. This dedication to heritage is a non-negotiable for her; she vets every artisan not just for their aesthetic, but for the lineage of their technique. This philosophy has struck a chord with a clientele that increasingly values a sense of place over mere possession. “People just really want things that are handmade these days and don’t feel mass-produced,” she notes. “They want to have things that are sort of soulful. Folklore and folk art are so popular because they have a story.”
Playful coastal pottery in cobalt blue and cream.
A pair of traditional brass pepper and salt mills made in Greece.
For owner Cara Polites Ferro, the shop is a living extension of her Greek heritage.
At Via Coquina, the heart of the store beats in its commitment to what the owner calls the “dying arts.” From Egyptian hand embroidery and ceramics to the traditional sandal makers of Capri, the inventory is a deliberate rebellion against mass production.
Kaftans in bold prints and colors, perfect for summer.
The shop’s view onto Madison Street.
Colorful assorted linens and décor are on display.
The most visceral expression of the store’s “soul” is found in Cara’s personal obsession: an extensive ceramics collection. Her eye gravitates toward pieces that carry the thumbprint of the maker and the unpredictability of a hand-applied glaze. “Ceramics are kind of my thing; they’re what I personally collect at home,” she says. “I really love ceramics with color… I like pieces that feel unique, especially the glazes.”
This affinity for texture marks her transition from a former city minimalist to a self-professed maximalist who believes that rustic, handmade imperfections provide a necessary friction against the sleek lines of modern architecture. “My house is pretty modern—white walls—and these pieces give character to the space,” Cara explains. “I’m not into that decorator approach where everything has to match. If you like it, it works together.”
While the shop’s “hero” product—the intricately crafted Greek pepper mills—remains a year-round staple, the vibe of Via Coquina shifts with the seasons and the light. Cara is acutely sensitive to how the environment dictates color; she notes that the soft, muted light of Sag Harbor allows for a different palette than her Palm Beach location, where brighter, punchier hues are required to keep a space from feeling lost. In the winter months, the shop serves as a year-round resource for the community, pivoting to cozy Mongolian cashmere and Sicily-sourced apothecary. Regardless of the season, the goal remains the same: to provide a space that feels personal and joyous. “Sometimes people come in, and they say, ‘It’s so happy in here, it has such a great feeling,’” Cara shares. “That’s so gratifying, because when I go into the store, I feel like I’m in my happy place. I want to share that with the customers.”
