The Bay Leaf Restaurant Milton Delaware

The Bay Leaf Restaurant on Rt. 16 Milton, DE

This evening I had a very pleasant early dinner at the Bay Leaf Restaurant in Milton, Delaware.

I like to dine out occasionally.  However, I've never gotten used to eating alone even though I've been the "lonely guy" many times during my long tenure on this earthly pane.  



My high school friend Ed is down this week from his home in Pennsylvania.  When he's down at his home in Rehoboth, we usually do dinner once or twice.  However, I just didn't feel up to traveling the dangerous Route One to his home in Rehoboth Beach to have dinner at one of those loud, expensive and stressful Rehoboth restaurants.  When I go out to dinner I like it QUIET which is doesn't happen during the Season in Rehoboth.  I remember a time a few years ago when I met my friend Ed for an early dinner and the table next to us was the typical extended family:  Mom and pop, three kids, grandmom and grand pop plus a Baby in a Basket which they placed on the table right next to us.  Oh lovely.  Please don't misunderstand me, those folks are what keeps our economy going but I prefer not to stuff my face with a Chicken Caesar Wrap listening to a two month old baby cry.  Just not my thang, you know?  

I suggested to Ed that we have an early dinner in Milton.  The restaurant is called the Bay Leaf Restaurant.  I've eaten there several times and never been disappointed.  Milton doesn't have a whole lot of restaurants.  Three others that I can think of which will remain unnamed.  I haven't been impressed with the other three.  Been disappointed every time I've eaten in them so I haven't returned.

I was surprised when we went into the Bay Leaf this evening.  There was only one other patron in the restaurant.  A middle aged woman who was eating by herself.  I don't mind so much eating by myself as long as the restaurant isn't crowded and I feel like I'm taking up a whole table and thus depriving the restaurant of paying customers.  However, I prefer to dine with someone.  I like to talk, which should come as no surprise to any of my regular followers.

This evening we had a delightful meal.  My friend Ed had a pasta and spinach dish.  

I had a Chicken Caesar Wrap and fries.  I didn't get a dinner because I just can't eat that much anymore.  I ate half of my wrap and I'll keep the other half for lunch tomorrow.  I splurged and have a Triple Chocolate cake (topped with a cherry) for dessert.  It was licentiously delicious.  I really shouldn't of.....but I did.  Pangs of guilt are sweeping over me now.  As I so often say after Going For The Dessert After the Meal, I'm telling myself "Never again!"  But I will.  

Strawberries Sauvignon - a Bay Leaf Chef Special

After finishing our meal and wrapping up exchanging information on our latest medical adventures, Ed and I checked out.  At the cashier's station the owner asked me "Aren't you the guy with the blog?"  OMG!  You know folks, I'm encountering this situation more and more often.  I've had my blog going on seven years now and apparently I am becoming quite well known in certain quarters.  Of course the first thing I thought of "What did I write in my last blog?"  Even more I thought "What pictures did I post?"  Ah yes!  I did post a picture of Channing Tatum in his, well um....undies.  Oh my.......oh well. 

Lauren - the owner who asked me "Aren't you the guy who blogs?

One of the first things that went through my mind was that she would ask me "Do you practice the gay lifestyle?" as was the question my ignorant, homophobic North Carolina distant cousin asked me when I was on vacation in North Carolina in March and who, when I affirmed I was gay, growled to me "Now get this, if you set foot on my parent's land (I was going to introduce them to another cousin and his wife) you'll have to deal with me, you got that bud!".  Yes folks, I have been permanently scarred by that accusatory question.  I was prepared to be asked not to "set foot" in that restaurant but instead had a very pleasant conversation with Lauren about how slow business was for her restaurant on Monday nights.  I wasn't in Kansas North Carolina anymore folks.  I was in the First State which (mostly) welcomes diversity....and marriage equality.  

Folks, this is a fine restaurant. You want to get away from the traffic, the crowds, the noise of Rehoboth?  Travel six miles north to the historic, quaint town of Milton and the Bay Leaf Restaurant.  They are open for business seen days a week including Mondays!  Comfortable seating, good service, large menu, freshly prepared food, reasonable prices and FREE PARKING.  What's not to like?  

Me in the front of the Bay Leaf Restaurant this evening. Plentiful, free parking folks!

Yes, I do plan to go back on Monday nights.  Now to send out my invitation for dining companions.  Wish me luck! I prefer not to eat under a spotlight.

Just Shoot Me

I have been accused by some friends of writing what I think.  Guilty as charged.  Here I go again,   I'm going to write exactly what I think after my experience dining out with some of my older gay friends tonight at the weekly Friday Night Dine Out Group. If this is too much reality for some of my blog readers, then I suggest you stop reading right here and go on to the next blog which I assume will be more vanilla.  But if you stay with me, you have to know I'm going to write exactly what I think.  Well, to an extent.  I've found out lately that I do have to temper what I write because just about EVERYONE reads my blog, including some of my neighbors and friends of whom I do not want to offend or disrespect. So I walk the narrow line with writing exactly what I feel without stepping on too many toes.  Unfortunately I've already stepped on a few toes that will no longer be back to my blog, but be that as it may.  Can't do anything about that now.

So here is the point I want to make in this blog.  As you all know I'm 69 years old.  I don't think 69 years old.  In my mind I'm still a young 37 years old.  Thirty-seven years of age was when I was at my peak in looks, mental agility and earning power. Ever since then it's been a downhill slide.  I know folks like Dr. Spo advise me not to speak of my age but it is what it is.  This is the perspective I'm writing from, the prospective of an older gay man who is reaching the end of his life.  My mental processes are slowing down as is my looks and earning power.  As I said earlier, I'm on a downward slide.

I'm not complaining, just stating a fact.  In fact, I think I'm doing pretty well for an Old Guy.  I still turn an head occasionally, especially someone who finds an old skinny guy attractive.  My mind is still capable of running a household and holding down a part-time job at a busy hotel.  I still interact well with people both on a personal level and professional level.  Granted, my physical stamina isn't what it used to be.  I do need a nap (at least an hour or more) every afternoon or else I really wind down.  When I'm tired I really show it.  My eyes are half closed (I can't open them) and my brain just doesn't function the way it should.  But if I get plenty of rest and try to keep the stress levels in my life low, I still manage quite well...for an Old Guy.

Now, having said this I want to relate the experience I had at the Friday Night Dine Out Group tonight.  Sitting across the table from me were two older gentlemen who I hadn't met before.  I don't know how old they were but I suppose in their late 70's or early 80's.  Since we were sitting across from each other it was natural for us to have a conversation.  That is one of the points of the Friday Night Dine Out Group, older gay men getting together once a week to meet and form new friendships.  Friendships, not hookups.  At our age hookups are a thing of the past.  Friendships only, which can be just as rewarding if not more so.

So here I am tonight trying to have a conversation with these two older guys (who I assume are partners), and I'm having a difficult time.  The one guy talks so hesitatingly and slow that I almost drifted off during our "conversation".  In fact, he was so slow I forgot what we were talking about.  Plus he was hard of hearing.  I was worn out after our conversation.  The other guy talked so low that I could hardly understand him.  I had to keep asking him to repeat himself.  All I could think of with these two guys was ....Dinosaurs.

I mean no disrespect to either of these two gentlemen and I am sure they're both fine fellows but please, PLEASE....if I ever get this way will someone PLEASE SHOOT ME!

What Do You Do on a Rainy Day?

What do you do on a rainy day in southern Delaware?  You have lunch at a fabulous Mexican restaurant in Millsboro, Delaware called La Quezalteca.


La Quezalteca is located at the corner of Rts. 24 and 30 in the beautiful farm country of Sussex County, Delaware.


No fighting congested Rehoboth Beach traffic to get to this restaurant.


No paying inflated Rehoboth Beach prices to dine at this restaurant.


Dine on meals made with freshly made ingredients.  You won't see Sysco trucks in the early morning dawn at this restaurant.  All fresh ingredients are used.


The waiter delivers the hot plates with gloves.  Never a cold plate that has been sitting for five or ten minutes cooling down while the waiter (or waitress) tries to deal with the demanding summertime touristas.


And the best thing is having a relaxing meal with friends and not feeling rush to get out and make room for the next diners.  


Today I met my friends Paul, Jack, Jim and Bob for lunch.  We're all older now and some of us have serious medical issues but we can still get together and enjoy each other's company, catch up on the latest gossip, and exchange in some gentle teasing.  


It will take a lot more than a rainy day to dampen our enthusiasm for enjoying the pleasures of retirement.  Today was such a day. 


A nice lunch with the camaraderie of friends.  That's what it's all about.

Family

The "Perfect" Leave it to Beaver Family of the Fifties

See this family?  It isn't real.  This is the cast of a television show of the Fifties called "Leave it to Beaver." This was pictured as the typical American family.  It is not.

Growing up I watched this show where the dad always arrived at the dinner table (which was always in the dining room) dressed in a suit of a sport coat.  Our family ate at in our kitchen.  We didn't have a dining room in our roach infested, second floor apartment at 120 Washington Avenue in Downingtown, PA.

Our family, my brother Isaac, Mom and me on an outing at the park in the Forties

Our dad (we called him "Pop") wore his dirty T-shirt to the dinner table.  Same with me and my two brothers.  T-shirts.  Sometimes in the summer when it was too hot (no air conditioning in those days - the Fifties) we usually were shirtless.

Barbara Billingsley, the actress who played the mother on this fictional TV series was always dressed in a crinoline puffed up shirt dress.  She always wore pearls.  My Mom wearing pearls?  No way, she was too busy making biscuits to feed her always hungry brood of menfolk.

Watching this show I thought "Someday....someday.....I'll have a family like that."  Well, as everyone of you know (without exception), there is NO FAMILY LIKE THIS ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH.

Bob - my First Love on his wedding day (not to me)

Recently I posted a couple of blogs about my first lover.  Some of his family members read my blog and contacted me.  They very kindly filled me in on information about my first love's life after we parted company in early 1964.  Bob, my first love's name, was a married man.  I knew that when I was seeing him.  I assumed he had a happy home life and I was a pleasant diversion for him.  He was my first lover.  We saw each other for a few months until I came to the decision that a long term relationship was not in our future.  I ended our relationship and I assumed he went on to a happy life.

When I watched "Leave it to Beaver" in the Fifties I assumed that was a real family and most real families had that same kind of life.  I knew that I didn't have that kind of life at home but I thought our family was the anomaly.  Little did I know.  Our family was typical.  We were dysfunctional.  Not big time dysfunctional but we had issues.

Now that I am a mature adult (in most ways anyway, in some areas I am still woefully naive), I have discovered that ALL FAMILIES ARE DYSFUNCTIONAL.  Not the least of which was my former lover's family.

I have since found out that he had two illegitimate children from a women he met when he lived in Coos Bay, Oregon.  I talked to his look alike daughter today.  She never met her father which is a real shame because he was a charming and vibrant man.  It doesn't seem right that I had more time with her father than she did.

When I was seeing Bob, he was married (legitimately) with three small children.  He had two sons and a daughter.  One of his sons read my blog posting and contacted me and told me information about his father's life after we parted ways.  It turns out that Bob got divorced and married again with three more children.  All the while he kept his homosexuality hidden.

The woman he was married to when when he was seeing me, wrote a book about her life and her "spiritual journey."  She doesn't paint a favorable picture of Bob.  In fact, she portrays Bob as a devil.  I have no other way to describe her portrayal and remain respectful of her and what she went through at that time.  I truly sympathize with her because she was deceived in her marriage.

When I got out of high school I had a girl friend who I liked very much.  But even at that young age (17), I knew a marriage would never work.  In spite of the fact that I was sexually inexperienced in both the gay sense and straight, I knew that sooner or later my homosexuality would destroy our marriage.  I could not to that to her or myself.

 I understand why Bob got married.  I remember very clearly the societal pressure to conform and get married.  I seriously even considered it because I wanted that "Leave it to Beaver" family.  But in my heart of hearts I knew it could never be for me.  I just could not do it.  Which was really weird because I didn't know how to be gay either.  Not only was I dysfunctional as a straight person, I was a dysfunctional gay.  I didn't know the first thing about sex.

How ironic then that the first person to introduce me to gay sex was a married man who stayed in the closet his whole life.  A man who had eight children, two out of wedlock.  A married man who disapproved of his adult daughter sleeping in the same bed in his house with her boyfriend of eight years in spite of the fact that the daughter and boyfriend had been living in their own house for years.

As I wrote in a previous blog posting, Bob was the catalyst that caused me to out myself as a gay man in 1963.  This was way before such an action was fashionable as it is now.  In fact, back when I came out I was illegal. I was breaking the law by declaring my homosexuality  There was no "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" back in those days.  If you declared your homosexuality, you were writing your death sentence, sometimes literally.  I certainly doomed any career chances I had in the world which proved to be true.

But I have no regrets.  I don't even have regrets that I am not living the "Leave it to Beaver" family.  In fact, I don't know anybody who is.  Do you?

A meal with friends - definitely not "Leave it to Beaver" style

Friday Night Dining Group

The Cracker Barrel Rehoboth Beach, Delaware

 I like to dine out.

My partner does not like to dine out.

My Partner Bill who DOES NOT like to dine out - we're at Zorba's in this picture

I do not like to dine out alone.

Dining Alone  -no two ways about it - it is awful

Thus, when my friend Bob C. asked me if I would like to join his "Friday Night Dining Group", I eagerly accepted.

Tonight was the first night I dined out with the group.  Our only criteria is that we dine at a cheap restaurant.  Good food, cheap food.  The Cracker Barrel fit the bill.

Interior of the Cracker Barrel restaurant

I have a good friend who also likes to dine out.  His name is Larry and he and his wife Lois like to "fine dine."  While I like fine dining too, I don't like the price that goes along with fine dining.  I ate with Larry and Lois once.  We at at The Buttery in Lewes and we did indeed have a fine dining experience.  We also had a fine dining bill for the three of us for $169, and that was before the tip.

The Buttery Restaurant, Lewes, Delaware

My friend Lar's goal is a bit different than mine.  Our dining experience is more about camaraderie and friendship than experiencing the latest cuisine.

Larry and Lois at Stripper Bites, Lewes, Delaware

Everyone in our Friday Night Dining Group are male and gay.  You don't have to be gay to belong to our group but that is the way it has worked out.  This group is a good way for single gay men to dine out with a group of friends instead of sitting at home or dining out alone.

Friday Night Dining Group at the Cracker Barrel Restaurant 

My friend Carole T. (a former high school classmate) in Pennsylvania belongs to a similar group called "hy Dine Alone?"  This group consists mainly of single older women.  It makes sense because most of these women like to dine out occasionally but they don't feel comfortable dining alone.  Carole asked me once to join the group for dinner one night.  I was all set to go but at the last minuted I asked how many women would be in the group.  She told me "about thirty."  I asked her how many men.  She told me "You would be the second one."  Ah ha.  I asked her about the other guy.  She said "He's 80 years old."  Hell, he was probably having the time of his life surrounding by all those widows and single women.  As a gay man, dining with thirty women who I'm sure are all delightful, wasn't particularly appealing to me.  What would be talk about?  Now, dining with thirty other gay men, talking would not be a problem.

My friend "Why Dine Alone" Carole

Tonight at the Cracker Barrel, there were eleven in our group.  It was a good mix.  Conversation was not a problem.  Hey, you get a group of gay guys together and conversation is rarely a problem.  It certainly wasn't tonight.

Good camaraderie  - I'm in the red in the middle with my mouth closed (for once)

Another plus is you meet new friends.  I did meet and make new friends tonight.  One can never have too many friend, especially in this cold and indifferent world of today.

I ordered meatloaf, steak fries, corn and string beans (which were cooked to a pulp.)  For dessert I had a concoction called Strawberry Icebox Cake.  The meatloaf was delicious and the dessert delightful.  Even better was the modest check.  No $28 prix fixe "special" dinner a la The Buttery.

But the best part of the night was meeting and making new friends.  Thank you Bob for inviting me to join your group.

Bob and friends Tim, Miles and David

Dining In

These days I'm dining in.

I have three good reasons for dining in:



1) No one is available (or can afford) to dine out with me (I don't like to dine alone)

2) The food at the restaurants that I've dined at, isn't as good as my own cooking

3) It is too expensive to dine out

I've always like cooking. I'm not a gourmet cook. I don't cook fish, most meats or any exotic food. I'm a comfort food cook.

At one time of my life I used to like cooking for company but I have lost interest in that over the years. Occasionally I'll have a friend over for a meal, but nothing like pot luck for multiple folks. That's not my style.



One of my all time favorite dishes is Eggplant Parmesan. I always ordered this out because I didn't think I could cook it. Another favorite of mine is French fried potatoes. I don't deep fat fry food in my house because I don't want that greasy smell permeating my curtains and the upholstery of my living room furniture.



Because of the difficulty of finding a friend to dine out with me, I decided to take matters into my own hands.



Guess what? I can do it! I now have a recipe for Eggplant Parmesan that is better than any I've ever had at a restaurant. I also have a wonderfully delicious recipe for oven baked potatoes that is so much tastier and healthier than anything that I can buy at a restaurant.

Tomorrow I'll post the recipes of my Eggplant Parmesan and Oven Baked Potatoes.



Now my only goal is to master preparing Chicken Quesadillas as good as the one I have at the Brickside Grill in Eagleview, PA. I've had Chicken Quesadillas at other restaurants but they've all been cheesy messes. Only the Brickside Grill prepares this dish with pumpkin seed and fresh salsa. Other restaurants say they have "fresh salsa" but it's not the truly fresh salsa which is fresh tomatoes, onion, and jalapeno peppers and NO tomato sauce.



Another problem I have in dining out in this poor economy is that the restaurants I've been too have had a noticeable drop in quality of food. I think it's because they're cutting back on their supplies and don't the customers will notice. I've noticed and won't be back anytime soon.



Except for my weekly breakfast outing, I'll be dining in.....alone.

Take it Back

I like to dine out. I think that’s probably because I never went to a restaurant until I was 22 years old. I had been to a few diners in my teenage years but never to a real restaurant.








My first restaurant was Da Vinci’s Italian restaurant in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. This was back in 1964 when Bill (my partner of now 45 years) was courting me. He wanted to impress me and indeed, I was impressed. Prior to this experience I had only dined at the typical Fifties chrome diner. Those chrome palaces were the Exton Diner in Exton, PA and Zynn’s Diner in Thorndale, PA. My high school friend Larry and I also used to frequent Dick Thomas’s Foot Long Hot Dog restaurant also in Exton. But I had never dined in a real, white table cloth, fancy dancy restaurant until Da Vinci’s.







My first meal was Veal Parmesan. I also had never eaten veal. My father did not believe in eating baby animals. To this day I still have not eaten lamb chops.







Well, I was blown away out how good the Veal Parmesan was. I loved the attentive waiter, the white table cloth (I never ate at a table with any kind of table cloth) and the candles on the table. I liked everything about the dining experience. The food, service and an evening out with someone I liked.







These days I’m not dining out with my love (Bill doesn’t like to eat out) but I do dine out with friends every opportunity I get (as they will quickly tell you if you ask them.)







Today I took my friend Barbara out to lunch for her birthday. I used a gift certificate I purchased at a Red Cross silent auction a couple of weeks ago. The gift certificate was for The Wharf Restaurant in Lewes. I had eaten at The Wharf earlier this summer. It was a so-so experience. The Wharf is located right on the canal in Lewes but it is somewhat of a tourist trap. Generally you’re not going to get the best food at a tourist trap restaurant. Today was no exception.







Barbara and I seated ourselves at the restaurant at about quarter after twelve. There weren’t any other customers in the restaurant. We were the first customers of the day. One would expect fast service wouldn’t one? Well, one would be wrong.







The waitress was nice enough but once we gave our order, we waited….and waited….and waited. Both Barbara and I ordered hamburgers. I specifically asked if the hamburger was char broiled. I was assured that they had the option to do that.







When we finally received our order I noted that my hamburger was served on sandwich bread. What’s that? Then I looked at the hamburger patty. Oh oh. It was the old perfectly round, gray, formerly frozen hamburger patter of undetermined origins. I took a bite. This wasn’t a char broiled hamburger. This hamburger had no taste. It was tasteless like all the mass produced, frozen hamburger patties that are delivered to our area of southern Delaware by the many Sysco tractor trailer trucks. So my request for a char broiled real hamburger was ignored. They lied.







Usually, I would not say anything and try and finish eating the hamburger but not today. Too often my friends have told me that if I didn’t like what I received tell the restaurant. I especially wanted to let this particular restaurant I wasn’t pleased because when I ate there this past summer I didn’t let them know but I did write about it in a review I posted online. The owner of the restaurant responded to my review and told me that I should try his restaurant again and if I wasn’t satisfied to let him know. That’s what I did today. I sent the hamburger back. I told the waitress it had no taste. It wasn't char broiled. The waitress apologized and took the offending hamburger (with the sandwich bread) away to the kitchen. A few minutes later I saw the cook (a big woman) come out and look over at our booth to see who the offending patron was. What's that all about?



The waitress came back and I ordered a Caesar Salad instead. My dining partner had got a Caesar Salad and she said it was good. My salad was good but the salad itself wasn’t fresh. It looked like the leaves were precut because they were brown around the edges. They probably brought one of those bags of precut Caesar Salad from the local supermarket. It definitely wasn't freshly torn Romaine. I was hungry so I ate it.







I was hungry all afternoon. I hate it when I go to a restaurant and I leave hungry. But this isn’t the first time this has happened since I’ve dined out in this area. I'm not a big eater. I'm 6'3" and weigh 160. I'm not a pig but I do need enough to satisfy my hunger.





This is something that has always puzzled me, why is it so hard for many of the restaurants in this area of southern Delaware to make a good hamburger? I only know of a few restaurants that make a decent hamburger by using fresh hamburger meat. They would be the Purple Parrot, Dos Locos, Gilligan’s and the Surfing Crab. Maybe it’s because this is a seaside resort and seafood is the preferred dish. I’m not a seafood guy. With me it’s chicken, hamburger or eggplant Parmesan. After that first veal dish, as delicious as it was, I still don’t eat baby animals.



Tomorrow is another day. Wednesday I'm going out to dinner again at another Lewes Restaurant, the Villa Sorrento. I hope my experience is better there than I had today at The Wharf. I'm ready for another good dining experience at an Italian restaurant. It has been a long time.

Birthday Lunch

"Could I take you for lunch today on your birthday?" asked my friend and neighbor Barbara.

"Yes" I quickly replied since I hadn't eaten lunch yet and my stomach was growling.

"Have you ever been to the Summer House in Rehoboth?" she asked.

"No.  Do they serve anything other than fish?" I asked, being one of the few residents of Lower Slower who doesn't like seafood.

"Oh yes, they serve many things.  Jane and I ate there last week and we had a very good meal." Barbara replied.

Well, that was enough to convince me.  I agreed and Barbara returned to her house next door to mine to get ready while I changed into something more appropriate for appearing in public on my birthday instead of my usual jeans and khaki shirt.

About 15 minutes later I make the short trip from my garage to her garage and off we went in Barbara's Cadillac to Rehoboth on this warm and sunny November day.

We found a parking slot about a half a block down from the entrance of the Summer House.  I never ate at the Summer House before but I know that during the summer tourist season it is always packed.  I always like to try new restaurants, looking for that special restaurant which combines good food with comfortable seating and ambiance along with good service and a reasonable price.  The Summer House met all five objectives.  My dining experience was completed by having lunch with someone whom I like and is good company, my friend and neighbor Barbara.

We checked out the Business Lunch Menu priced at $12.00. Barbara said she got the Marinated Sliced Sirlon Steak last week with the "Stuffed" Potato Cakes.  She decided to order it again (medium rare.)  I also ordered it (well done) but instead of the Ceasar Salad (as Barbara ordered), I got the homemade tomato soup. 

We both ordered iced teas while our order was being prepared.  My first sip of iced tea told me "This is real iced tea."  Something one doesn't get too often in restaurants these days.  That was a postive sign.

After about ten minutes of sipping our ice tea and conversation, our orders arrived.  The round  deep friend "Stuffed" Potato Cakes smelled heavenly.  On my plate was five thick slices of perfectly cooked sirlion steak dabbed with a Blue Cheese Herb sauce.  From my first bite into the tender beef I knew I was in for a delightful meal at the Summer House.  Even though I had ordered the steak well done, it wasn't overcooked and dried out as often is when ordering a steak well done.  In fact, this was the first steak I've eaten in about three years.  I'm a chicken and vegetable man (I know, I know; I should eat more fish but eating any kind of seafood reminds me of the floatsam on a beach after high tide rolls out.) 

Both Barbara and I ate all of our steak.  I wanted to eat all of my potato cakes but I knew my partner Bill would like them, so I saved four of them for him.  Barbara threw one of hers in the stryofoam box for Bill too.  We wish Bill would have gone to lunch with us but Bill doesn't like to dine out.

Barb paid the bill (a birthday treat for me) and we departed for home.  On the way we stopped in to visit our favorite local jeweler, The Cajun.  Both Barbara and I love out baubles.  The jewelry store where The Cajun works has the finest quality jewelry in the Rehoboth Beach area with the best discounts.  I have my eye on a particularly beautiful blue diamond ring (like I need another diamond ring.)  Barbara loves emeralds (and they look so good on her too.)  But, today we were "just looking."  We had a pleasant visit and then we were on our way back home, stuffed with our lunch.

We noticed a chill had returned to the air.  The sun had retreated back behind the clouds in preparation for tomorrow's forecast of clouds and possible showers.  No matter, I had an absolutely wonderful birthday spent with friends.  I didn't have a birthday cake today but finding a wonderful new restaurant was icing on the cake.  Who needs a birthday cake when they can have a day like this with friends?  I am a happy (old) man.  Thanks Barbara!

Taking Sides

During my long life (67 years) I have encountered the situation of friends of mine having a falling out with each other. When this has happened, I have never taken one side over the other. Sometimes I felt as if I was expected to take sides. I just don't do it. Why should I?

Unless either one of the individuals give me cause to discontinue their friendship with me, I continue to be friends with both parties.

Recently I have encountered this situation with friends from different parts of my life. As regular readers of this blog will remember, recently I attended my 50th high school class reunion. The reunion was a wonderful success with much camaraderie and goodwill. Now in the aftermath of the reunion I find that one of the organizers of one of our previous reunions is feuding with the organizer of the last reunion. Harsh words were exchanged. Of course all this is about power and control. Politics.

Yesterday this former classmate of mine sent me an e-mail detailing her grievances with the current class reunion committee. She is looking for reinforcement from me what she sees as slights and disrespect to her. I am not playing this game. No thank you. I had a good time and the reunion and I am looking forward to the next reunion. I will not take time for the petty back and forth bickering.

Last night I had dinner with a friend of mine at a local eating establishment. We had a very enjoyable dinner. The food was excellent and the camaraderie of friendship better. My friend had originally wanted to go to new restaurant in town. Instead we went to the restaurant I suggested. Later I found out through a Facebook posting, that if we had gone to the new restaurant he suggested we would have ran into his former partner and his new love. That would probably have been an awkward situation.



Last night after I returned home I sent my friend an e-mail telling him of the "near miss." He was surprised that I was Friends on Facebook with his former partner and new love. He said it was "interesting." I don't think my friend expected me to take sides in his relationship. I think he knows me well enough to know that I won't take sides. Unless someone does me a wrong or does not want to be friends with me, I am friends to all. That is just my nature. I don't hold grudges. Not that I don't discontinue friendships, I do. If someone shows me that they don't respect me or appreciate my friendship, then I'm gone. But I hold no animosity towards them. It just takes too much work to hold that kind of hatred. I'm too lazy for that kind of activity.



So I will continue on my merry way making friends, losing friends and trying to avoid stepping on toes along the way. As they say "Every day is an adventure."

Feed the Meter

This evening I met my friend The Cajun in Rehoboth beach for a drink and a Wimpy burger at the Purple Parrot. We haven't been to any downtown Rehoboth Beach restaurant since before Memorial Day, the influx of the Horde (aka Summer Tourists.) We locals tend to stay away from downtown Rehoboth during the height of the summer season. We turn the town over to the tourists to deposit their cash at our many and sundry summertime attractions. One of the biggest money earners are the parking meters. $1.50 gets you an hour parking spot right in downtown Rehoboth Beach, where all the action is.




Traveling down Rt. 1 was a breeze early this evening as compared to the summertime traffic which is likely as not to be backed up. Taking the turn on Rt. 1A into Rehoboth was a pleasure this evening.


My friend The Cajun and I caught up on the past few months. We're both in the service industry (he a host at a local restaurant and me a front desk clerk at a local hotel.) We traded war stories about our summer's encounters with some of the more interesting personalities to visit the area this summer. Always fun to dish I say.



We both had a delicious Wimpy (char grilled hamburger) with the best French Fries this side of Provincetown, Mass. We had our desired window seat where we could people watch. The late Sunday afternoon daylight illuminated the thinned out herd of summertime visitors still strolling up and down Rehoboth Avenue. After a festive martini or two for my friend and a modest glass of Zinfandel white wine for me, we were ready to call it a day.



My friend took off for his home and I availed myself of the remaining daylight and took a several block walk to a former friend's house on Laurel Street to see if his neighbor has sold their house. I love downtown Rehoboth sans the crowds. I especially love walking through the neighborhoods on a quiet Sunday evening like this. I think if I ever win the Powerball Lottery (I'm WAY overdue to win) I just may buy myself one of these adorable beach cottages for my very own. I know the likelihood of me getting struck by lightening five times is greater than me winning the Powerball but I can dream can't I?



As the sun set I headed back to my car parked on Rehoboth Avenue. I still had 27 minutes left in my meter but I was ready to go. I don't like to travel at night anymore. I wanted to get home before dark. I guess I'm officially entering the age of Old Codger, afraid to drive in the dark.



I got home just before dark and here I sit now writing about it. I'm about to go to bed shortly because I have to get up way too early tomorrow (4:30 am) to get ready to catch the 6:00 am American Legion van to the Wilmington VA.



I enjoyed this evening but I don't think I'll do as many evenings out this year as I did in years past. I'm just not comfortable driving in the dark. For instance, tonight as I was driving up the four lane highway that is Route 1 there was a motorcyclist with his moll hanging on the back of him weaving in and out of traffic. I could hardly see them in the twilight and the floaters in my eyes. At my age I don't need to be out on the roads at night in the dark looking out for motorcyclists weaving in and out of traffic.



Besides, I'm having a hard time devouring a whole Wimpy. I guess there is just no getting around it. I am getting old. Gone are the days of youthful indiscretions and staying up all night and going to work first thing in the morning. These days I'm looking forward to that bed and sweet dreams. Still, it was nice visiting with my friend The Cajun this evening. Maybe we can do it again, like in January.

Dinner at Paul and Jack's Place

Bill and I took the long ride down to Ocean City, Maryland this afternoon for dinner with our friend Paul and Jack. This is the first time I’ve driven to Ocean City since we moved here almost three years ago. It was an experience. First we ran into the heavy rush hour traffic in Rehoboth Beach. Then as we entered Dewey Beach, the skies opened with a heavy shower. We had to pull off the road for about 20 minutes for the cats and dogs to stop falling.

Then we were on our way again driving down the narrow strip of land that connects the southern most part of Delaware from Ocean City, Maryland. We drove through sunshine, another shower, sun again and again another shower. It was like we were being tested. Finally we saw the high rises lining the ocean beach that are unique to Ocean City, Maryland. Paul and Jack’s condo was just off 120th Street.

Even though I missed the first turn, we still arrived on time (5 o’clock) and were greeted warmly by Paul and Jack at the door. After a tour of the premises we settled down to an evening of camaraderie and friendship. This was not a “Boys in the Band” get together of gay friends. The times have changed. No hurtful displays of self hate and deadly zingers in this get together of gay friends.

We sat down to a delicious dinner of mustard and wine chicken recipe and wild rice with a side of asparagus. Paul, Jack and I washed it down with Zinfandel wine. Bill drank water. For dessert we had Key Lime Pie made especially by the Notting Hill Coffee Shop in Lewes, Delaware. I picked up the pie in the morning in Lewes in a very crowded coffee shop. It was worth the extra effort because the pie was delicious even thou it fell apart when cut. I was warned to keep the pie in the freezer until 20 minutes before serving. We didn’t do that but no matter. The pie was delicious anyway even if it was a pudding pool in the middle of our dessert plates.

After we thanked Paul and Jack for a wonderful evening together with friends, Bill and I got on good old Route 1 and headed north to home. All in all, we had a delightful evening with friends. Thank you Paul and Jack for your hospitality.

Happy Birthday Wayne!

My friend Wayne celebrated his hmmmmmm (over 40 under 70 )birthday yesterday. We had a delightful dinner at a new restaurant just down the road from where we live (Wayne and I are neighbors.) The restaurant is called the Surfing Crab. While I'm not a seafood or shellfish aficionado, Wayne tells me the crab cakes are to die for. In fact, I made a bit of a pig out of myself yesterday by not only having dinner with my friend Wayne at the Surfing Crab, I also had lunch with my friend Big Bob. For lunch I had their blackened chicken. It was delicious! For dinner I had their chargrilled Black Angus hamburger. Again, delicious!

This may sound like an advertisement for the Surfing Crab, and maybe it is but I'm telling you this restaurant is a find! The eating area consists of many long picnic tables in a large screened in porch. While you're close to the traffic on Route 1, it is not a negative. The service is excellent, the prices are reasonable and the food is great! I think I discovered a new hangout for our gang.

During the off season a group of us usually meets at the Purple Parrot restaurant on Sunday nights for our weekly gathering of camaraderie. During the summer months (when the horde of locusts, er tourists descend on Rehoboth Beach) we avoid going downtown to Rehoboth because of the crowds and the expense (metered parking.) We don't usually renew our Sunday night get togethers until October. I'll send out e-mails today and see if the gang wants to meet this Sunday at this new wonderful restaurant.

I thoroughly enjoyed dinner last night with Wayne. Now this is the way to celebrate a birthday, take a friend out to a restaurant that serves his favorite food. Wayne had the crab cakes (broiled) and said they were the best he has had since New Orleans (his original home.) Now that's saying something.

Life is so short and transitory. Earlier this week, near this restaurant we had a fatal car accident caused by a drunk, overly aggressive driver. In fact, traffic on Route 1 was held up yesterday for a couple of hours while the authorities surveyed the area where the accident occurred. I assume this was for the court case. The driver who caused the fatal accident is now at the Sussex correctional institute. At least that is one less dangerous driver off of the road. But I couldn't help thinking last night that either Wayne or I could have been the victim that this drunk driver rear ended. In fact, Wayne has been rear-ended twice just within the past two months on Route 1. One just never knows when our time is up so it is best to make the most of the time we have on this earth. Yesterday was one of those times. We had a wonderful time and a memory to last us a lifetime.

“Do not look back and grieve over the past for it is gone; and do not be troubled about the future, for it has not yet come. Live in the present, and make it so beautiful it will be worth remembering.”

Saturday Night Dinner With Friends

The past two weeks I've been a hankering for either a char grilled hamburger or Eggplant Parmesan. Since Bill (my partner) doesn't like to eat out, I have to persuade some of my very small (and select) circle of friends to go out with me. I've tried eating by myself (and have done it many times) but it's not the same as enjoying a night out with friends dining.

Tonight I got lucky. My longtime friend Ed (since high school ) came down from his home in Pennsylvania to spend the weekend with another friend at his place in Rehoboth Beach. They usually go out to eat on Saturday night. I invited myself along. One has to be aggressive in these matters sometimes.

We had a very pleasant night at a local restaurant in Rehoboth Beach (Zorba's) that welcomes the gay crowd but is open to all. That the restaurant is "open to all" I found out quickly when, while waiting for my friends outside Zorba's, I watched as two dads unloaded three kids and a two month old in a bassinet into Zorba's. Thus, dinner was guaranteed to be punctuated by a crying and screaming two month old baby. When my friends arrived I suggested that we go elsewhere because I did not care to pay money to dine next to a squalling baby. My friend Ed told me to "relax and go with the flow." Oh yes. I took his advice. It didn't take long until after we were seated that the baby starting to cry. I have to give the dad credit though, he did quiet the infant down which is more than I can say for other parents who usually let the little darlings squirm, scream and generally make the dining experience very unpleasant for the other diners in the restaurant. My friend was right, it wasn't too painful. Still, I would prefer to eat in a restaurant and not a day care center.

While I was waiting for my friends to arrive another man got out of his car and strolled by me and gave a knowing "Hi." Uh oh. I'm being cruised. Strange straight men don't say "Hi" to me. It just doesn't happen. As charming and good-looking as I am (at least I think so), straight men look right through me like I'm invisible. Only a gay man would attempt to start something with this 67 year old geezer. After observing the two dads and the kids and the bassinet baby, I wasn't in the cruising mood. In fact, I'm never in the cruising mood these days. Just not interested. Thus, it wasn't too much of a surprise when my fried Ed told me a "friend" of his would be joining us and pointed to the guy in the armless T-shirt. I said "Oh him. He was just cruising me." Oh for the days of yore when I was all sexed up and went in for something like that. Those days are long behind me. No complaints and no regrets from this one.

The four of us went in, were seated, and were given a board with the specials. My friend Ed saw the calves liver and ordered that. I ordered the Eggplant Parmesan and was not disappointed. I got my eggplant fix. I should be good for at least a month now. Monday night I get my char grilled hamburger fix when I dine at the Purple Parrot in Rehoboth Beach with my friend Harvey.

We had a very pleasant dinner. We engaged in some gentle teasing of Ed of the times when he had a breathalyzer device installed on the steering wheel column of his car due to a DUI. Poor Ed, he had to blow into that device every time he wanted to start his car. Many times he couldn't get it started because he was too nervous. If it didn't work then he had to wait a period of time before he could try it again. He told us of the time he spent the afternoon in a mall parking lot because he couldn't get his car started. The parking lot security guard came by and pointed out to him that he was spending a lot of time in the parking lot. Oh the good times. I don't know if the authorities use such draconian measures now to deter drinking and driving but it sure did work with Ed. He doesn't drink and drive at all now.

We stayed so long at our table that the waitress came by and suggested that she was going to have to charge us rent for using that space. Oops. We overstayed out welcome. Not a problem. We left a big tip and ventured out into the early Saturday night with the sun still shining at 8 pm. Oh how I love these long summer days with friends. It took a lot of years to get to this point in my life that I could enjoy a summer Saturday night out with friends. Who knew a bunch of old guys could have so much fun just talking?

The Three B's

Bob, Bob and Bill, are the Three B’s I had dinner with last night. I had to redeem myself from the Dinner Disaster of last week with Bill, Bob and Jay. Dinner last night was a success. The only missing ingredient was our friend Jay, who returned to his home in Landisville, Pennsylvania. I’ll make it up to him the next time he drives his new Subaru Imprezza through the flat coastal plain that is Sussex County, Delaware.

The menu was very simple last night – Swiss steak, Smashed Potatoes, and salad. For dessert we had Hawaiian Wedding cake. My Swiss steak recipe is a longtime staple of mine. I measure nothing when preparing this recipe. It’s a little different each time but always good. Last night was no exception.

As is always the case with a gathering of old friends, it was a night of good conversation and gentle teasing camaraderie. Sometimes it is best to have a meal at home instead of fighting traffic to get to a restaurant to face uncertain service and a roll of the dice for food quality. The only thing certain with dining out in the Rehoboth Beach area is that it’s going to cost you a lot. That is my great disappointment about living in this area of southern Delaware, the lack of reasonably priced good restaurants. They just aren’t here.

That said, last night was an enjoyable repast and we will have to do it again soon. As for today, I’m off to my dentist in Dover for a teeth cleaning. I can hardly wait.

Dinner Disaster

Last week I had a few friends over for dinner. It was a disaster. Here is what happened. I wasn’t really in the mood for preparing a big dinner. I was more in the mood to do yard work because it was such a beautiful day outside. So, I got sloppy. I decided to make Fettuccine Alfredo. My first mistake was I didn’t cook the fettuccine long enough. They were like rubber bands. I should have set the timer so I would know when the pasta was done. I don’t think I have ever set a timer on cooking pasta. I usually check by eye. This time it didn’t work.

My second mistake was that I didn’t have heavy whipping cream. I thought I could get by with using half and half. Well folks, half and half had the effect of making milk soup. Yes folks, I made rubber bands with milk soup. But, I didn’t think my company would notice. Bill, my partner, is like Mikey…..he can eat anything. Our two guests are not known as gourmands.

First up was the salad. That went well enough. Next up was the Fettuccine Alfredo. The first sign of trouble was that everyone had trouble getting the little rubbery things out of the bowl. Those noodles wanted to go everywhere but the plate for which they were intended. Bill wanted a knife to cut the noodles so he could spoon them out of the bowl. I told him that wasn’t proper protocol for serving Fettuccine Alfredo.

Finally, with noodles on the plates, the dinner social conversation renewed. After only a few minutes, Bill stopped eating and looked directly at me and said “This is awful!" Uh oh. The gig was up. I didn’t think anyone would notice. Someone did. I had fooled myself but there was no fooling Bill. My dinner guests were too polite to voice any displeasure but they were not forthcoming with the compliments that I am used to receiving for one of my diner repasts. The comments I did receive were “Don’t worry about it.” “It’s alright.” Uh huh. Tranlated it meant "WTF?" Disaster.

I gathered up the dinner plates of rubbery fettuccine, bacon bits swimming in the milk soup. I took the plates over to the garbage disposal where I slid the slimy mess into oblivion and turned the disposal on. Those noodles even fought the disposal. "Grind, grind. Chug, chug."

Time for dessert! Tonight the sweet de jour was Tropical Delight Hawaiian wedding cake. I have made this dessert many times in the past and it is almost fail safe. This time was no exception. I happily received expected praise from my dining companions. But the damage was done. The main course was an unmitigated disaster.

This is only the second time in my long cooking career that I bombed. The first time was years ago when we lived in Philadelphia. I decided to make sweet potato pie from scratch without a recipe. After all, how hard could it be? It was awful. I still remember the shocked look on Bill’s face all those years ago when he asked me “What did you do to this pie?” I have always been known for my expertise in making desserts but I missed Big Time on the sweet potato pie. My mistake was that I didn’t add any sugar. I figured “sweet potato”, there’s the “sweet”; it doesn’t need sugar. Well girls and boys, sweet potato pie needs a LOT OF SUGAR. This "pie" was about the blandest piece of crap I ever ate. There was no getting away from it. Tasteless. Mush in pie crust.

Tonight I redeem myself. One of the two guests returns for dinner tonight. I’m making my signature Swiss Steak casserole. I’ve been making this entrée for years. It is my own recipe and it never misses. It’s a mess to make but oh so delicious with the tender portions of round steak smothered by tomatoes, green pepper, and onions and a bit of salt and just a dash of pepper. I serve it with another one of my tried and true recipes, Squashed Potatoes. Bill usually just heaps his plate with Squashed Potatoes and puts a dab of Swiss Steak on top like ketchup.

Unfortunately for one my guests last week that was his first introduction to my cooking skills. You know what they say about “You only get one chance to make a first impression?” I’ll have a long way to go until I redeem my cooking skills in his eyes. At least I have nowhere to go but up. Maybe I should of told him I was serving him calamari with milk soup.

Memorial Day Weekend

Seeing the morning sun streaming through my home office window, I knew this first day of Memorial Day weekend was getting off to a good start. After checking my Facebook account and my e-mails, Bill and I got in his Jeep and drove down an almost deserted Route One to Zorba's in Rehoboth Beach for our weekly breakfast. At quarter after seven, we were the second customers in the Greek owned restaurant located next to the Food Lion in the strip mall on Route One. Bill ordered his egg sandwich with double mayonnaise and I ordered my pig snout mush (aka scrapple), one egg over easy, crispy home fries and one English muffin. The waitress informed us that the grill wasn't hot yet so our breakfast might take a little longer. Bill had his regular coffee with three sugars and two creams. I had my usual decaffeinated coffee with 1/3
packet of sugar one cream. After two coffees, our breakfast arrived. It was a good breakfast.

After breakfast Bill wanted to stop at The Home Depot of purchase a pole for the lamp he wants to put up in the back yard. I bought some room deodorizers. My sniffer is very sensitive so I buy a lot of these plug ins that smell up a room. I prefer the Air Wick scented oil light plug ins. I like a home to smell like a garden. Bill says he is glad he doesn't have a sniffer as sensitive as mine. I may be losing all my other senses but my sense of smell is stronger than ever.

After leaving Home Depot I went to the East Coast garden center and purchased (are you sitting down?) more plants! Yes Virginia, I purchased more annuals for planting. The flower bed in front of my house was lacking color if not plants. I needed some hot colors like red, coral, and purple. I purchased some Phlox plants and transplanted them in between the yellow pansies and pink impatiens. Now my front flower bed is complete.

In the afternoon I laid down to do some reading ("The Line of Beauty") and a little nap. Right about 3:30 the doorbell rings. It is our friend Jay. What a pleasant surprise. Bill and I like Jay very much. He was on his way to North Carolina for a week's stay at the family rental. He is staying at a friend's house in Rehoboth and stopped by for a short visit. He will be staying at our place next week on his way back from North Carolina.

We had a pleasant visit then Jay had to leave to see his friend Ed in Rehoboth. I had an idea, why not the three of us (me, Jay and his friend in Rehoboth who also happens to be my friend and former high school classmate.) We decided to go to dinner at the Villa Sorrento in Lewes. Our friend Ed had eaten there before and liked it enough to want to go back.

We arrived at the Villa Sorrento about 6:30. We're told that we should of made a reservation but they could probably take us at 7:00 o'clock. We wait outside the restaurant which is a busy parking lot next to the "Kicken Chicken" take out. Lots of interesting characters going in there including one beauty clad in short shorts and parked in the fire lane. She must have made at least half a dozen trips back and forth to "Kicken Chicken" to show off that big booty of hers. We already saw it once honey. Go home now.

We go back into the Villa Sorrento and are now told it that we will have to wait another 20 minutes. We go back outside and wait. The 20 minutes are up and Ed goes back in and is told we will have to wait some more. Ed had enough. He asked why is it taking so long to sit us? Another woman, possibly one of the owners, saw the commotion (Ed can throw a pretty good scene) comes over and tells Ed that we will be seated shortly. Thus mollified, Ed comes out and tells us "Sometimes the squeaky wheel get the oil." Ed likes cliches almost as much as I do.

What was the problem seating us? I have a suspicion it is because we are three men at a "family restaurant." I noticed several stares when we first entered the restaurant. Let me explain a little background here. The Rehoboth Beach and Lewes area has a heavy gay and lesbian populations. Most gays and lesbians patronize certain restaurants. There is an understanding that we are not welcomed at "family" restaurants. Now it could of been my imagination that we were being discouraged from patronizing this restaurant but I dont' think so. My friend Jay was getting the same vibe.

Finally we were seated, almost an hour and a half after we had arrived, the next phase of the "discouragement" started. Service was very slow. Very. About half the tables were empty now. The waitress returned and we placed our order. Now the next phase of "discouragement" began. Again, maybe it was my imagination but wasn't it taking a long time for our order to arrive? I thought so as did my friend Jay. Ed said they were probably extra busy because of the Memorial Day weekend. I wasn't buying it. Again, about two thirds of the tables were empy now. We were the only all male dining customers in the restaurant. We were still getting the "look" from some of the other restaurant patrons. Again, maybe it was my imagination. Maybe not

The waitress returned and said they were "working" on our order which was two eggplant Parmesans and one manicotti. How hard could it be? After almost an hour our order arrive. The waitress said the kitchen fell behind fulfilling takeout orders. Again, I wasn't buying this explanation. There were just too many delays and things happening to discourage us from eating at this establishment. Simply put, our dining experience wasn't passing the Duck Test. You know, "If it looks like a duck, walks like and duck, and sounds like a duck......it's a duck!" We saw a lot of duck talking and walking this evening.

Folks, the Villa Sorrento didn't pass the Duck Test. Simple as that. I won't return. The food was alright but there were just too many other things happening to discourage us from ever eating there again. I won't go back. The final proof was the hostess and her demeanor as we left. Did she say "Goodbye" or "See you again" or "Please return soon" or even a "Good night."
No, nothing. She said nothing. She just gave us The Look.

Thus my day ended on the sour note of homophobia. Which was shame because this evening was a beautiful summer evening. But, even down here in Gayberry (which is our nickname for the Rehoboth Beach/Lewes/Milton area, homophobia is alive and well. I would like to think this is all my imagination and I'm assuming my favorite position as a martyr. That's what I would like to think. But in my 67 years, I've been around long enough to know when I'm not wanted. And it doesn't feel any better now than it did the first time I encountered homophobia. This is something no straight person will ever understand.