When yours truly came out in 1980 in London, England, there really wasn’t a whole lot to choose from in terms of "gay dining." In fact, there was precious little to chose from in terms of dining, period.

The first "gay" restaurant I ever visited was a rather camp establishment known as "The Tent" on Eccleston Street. The restaurant took its name from the saying, "as camp as a row of tents." The campest thing about the restaurant was the patrons. The food quality was erratic at best. I remember that the menu always featured, as an appetizer, a rather nasty smoked chicken crepe, which was, inexplicably, a firm favorite with many of the regulars. I also remember, with gut-wrenching horror, a kiwi bavarois that bounced like a sponge and, on one occasion, a particularly duff bottle of spectacularly marked-up Nuit St. Georges that was so bad as to occasion heart burn--after just a few sips. The management refused point blank to admit the wine was not all that it should be, although the Baron’s protestations did result in a begrudging refund.

The Tent was, however, a typical pioneer and, sadly, those that followed (on both sides of the pond) seemed only to retread and emphasize the worst aspects of the gay dining experience; speed-damaged boys posing as waiters, alternatively haughty or unctuous Maitre D’s, acres of cheaply framed black and white photos of Judy Garland crowding the walls, a ghastly soup of show tunes or disco beats assaulting the eardrums and ridiculously overpriced food offending the wallet.

So what are the essentials of a gay restaurant or any restaurant for that matter? Traditionally, the three chief components are food, ambiance and service.

It is undeniably the case that the food has been, at best, a secondary consideration in the experience of gay dining. In San Francisco, early examples of gay restaurants were places generally open late at night, after the bars shut, where the patrons, none too discerning by this point, could find sustenance and carry on the party. Many of these after-hours eateries became oases where the antics of those dining were tolerated and, in some cases, actually encouraged. Hamburger Mary’s, Zin’s, Compton’s Café, Orphan Andy’s, Happy Boy, Hot N’ Hunky and the Neon Chicken are all good examples of that kind of thing.

Orphan Andy’s continues to serve the starving masses to this day and, as a living fossil, has become an institution. Unkindly tarnished with the slightly unfair nickname, "Awful Andy’s," this remnant of a bygone age retains the gay-owned, gay-run, cheeky, friendly, gay-patronized elements topped off with cheap eats that rarely totally offend. As one on-line reviewer puts it, "I surprisingly didn't throw up after imbibing three shots of tequila and a beer before hand." Orphan Andy’s is also open 24-hours and is situated slap bang in the middle of the Castro at 17^th and Market. Lets’ face it, if you had such a location, you could serve up just about any old muck and get away with it.

For too long, "Castro fine dining" (an oxymoron if ever there was one) was epitomized by overpriced and/or pretentious food, served with offensive freedom by haughty princesses-in-exile to a thunderous disco beat. To this day, there are certain establishments I will only go to if I want a headache as well as indigestion. While it can be reassuring to take a trip down memory lane every once in a while, thankfully, the gay dining experience has moved on a bit since the 1980’s and there are lots of interesting new places to go and flavors to savor these days--Malacca and Ararat, to name just two.

One timeless quality that makes a restaurant gay is the people. A restaurant that is gay-owned, run and populated is a good start, but that isn’t the be-all and end-all. For sure, some like to be seen and be seen; to have the opportunity to wear something exotic that might be incongruous at Chevy’s and to have the freedom to discuss more colorful issues, but what about the food, the ambiance and the décor? No, for this faggot at any rate, a gay restaurant has to be about more than just a bunch of queers chewing cheeseburgers.

For me, to be a "gay" restaurant, the establishment must be a cherished part of the community and actively support that community. Restaurants that donate food and services to our community organizations and participate in our efforts to raise funds for AIDS can be easily identified by going to: http://www.diningoutforlife.com/participating.php

So what would be my dream gay restaurant? It should be gay-owned, gay-run and the patrons should be gay. It should be somewhere I can feel at home; where I can bring my mother, lover, sister and girlfriends -- with equal ease. The servers should be knowledgeable rather than decorative. The décor should be edgy, camp, stylish -- or all three. The food should be competitively priced and affordable. The venue should support our community and -- because I do have a love of food -- the menu should be original. In short, the artistry and creativity that is so much a part of our heritage should meld with our culture in a caring and a loving environment centered on that most basic of human activities- eating. That is the principal reason why we visit restaurants after all – to eat good food – is it not?

When I find the Holy Grail I’ll be sure to let you know.

Arthurian quests aside, I guess you can’t have everything. Orphan Andy’s may never be awarded a Michelin star, but the staff, patrons and atmosphere can, in the right circumstances, make up for any lack of culinary flair. And, if truth be known, in a city as gay as San Francisco, I have yet to go to a restaurant where at least some part of the experience (even if it’s only the wait staff) wasn’t queer.

Perhaps, in this town, the real question is, just how gay do you want it?