Showing posts with label Walt's Wharf. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Walt's Wharf. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 25, 2020

Closing time

My heart is broken. As a result of the virus and the new world order, one of my favorite restaurants in the world is closing. I first wrote this post about five years ago to the day. And if anything, I love this place even more now than I did then. And as you'll see, I loved it a lot then.

I feel terrible for the entire Walt's Wharf family—chefs, waitstaff, hosts, bartenders. There was never one minute where I didn't feel welcomed and wanted.

It's become a perfect storm for the seafood restaurant (and many others). Because of this bitch virus, the governor's stay-at-home directive and the very real uncertainty of how long they'd have to stay closed, the business simply wasn't sustainable. So after 50 years, 50 years!, they've been forced to shut their doors for good.

I can't remember all the lunch meetings, family dinners and special occasions that were celebrated there. But I'll never forget the meals and the hospitality. I just wish I'd know the last meal I had there was going to be the last meal I had there.

In my dream life, some rich benefactor comes in and saves Walt's Wharf and it just keeps on going. But dreams are just that.

As a certain gravel-voiced singer from New Jersey I'm fond of says in one of his songs, "Is a dream a lie that don't come true, or is it something worse?"

In this case, it is.

Thanks for everything Walt's Wharf. Dining out definitely won't be the same without you.

Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name. Then, sometimes, you want to go where no one knows your name but you want to go there anyway.

I like to think of myself as someone who likes to mix it up every now and again. Who maintains an air of unpredictability. An edge of danger. I keep spontenaity alive.

I also like to think of myself as six-foot three, one eighty, blond and ripped. But that's not happening either.

Come to find out I'm actually a creature of habit. Today we met some friends for lunch at one of my favorite places, Walt's Wharf in Seal Beach. It's been there forever, and it's always great. At least what I always order is. Because despite a wide variety of fresh seafood, and a wine selection second to none, I have the exact same meal every time I eat there.

Cup of clam chowder with Tabasco. Small Walt's salad with a salmon filet on top. Iced tea. I wanted you to know in case you're buying.

It's a sure thing every time. The problem is I feel like I should try something else. Logic would tell me if my usual choice is so good, other items must be just as good if not better. On the heels of that, I think this meal makes me happy and what am I so worried about.

Besides, since when did I start living my life according to logic? Not a Vulcan, hello.

I'm not going to say feeling bad for having the same great meal at a nice seafood restaurant is a first world problem, but, you know, draw your own conclusions.

Here's what I'm trying to say. If you want to meet me for lunch at Walt's, and you happen to be in a hurry, don't worry. I know what I'm having.

Sunday, April 26, 2015

Walt's Wharf

Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name. Then, sometimes, you want to go where no one knows your name but you want to go there anyway.

I like to think of myself as someone who likes to mix it up every now and again. Who maintains an air of unpredictability. An edge of danger. I keep spontenaity alive.

I also like to think of myself as six-foot three, one eighty, blond and ripped. But that's not happening either.

Come to find out I'm actually a creature of habit. Today we met some friends for lunch at one of my favorite places, Walt's Wharf in Seal Beach. It's been there forever, and it's always great. At least what I always order is. Because despite a wide variety of fresh seafood, and a wine selection second to none, I have the exact same meal every time I eat there.

Cup of clam chowder with Tabasco. Small Walt's salad with a salmon filet on top. Iced tea. I wanted you to know in case you're buying.

It's a sure thing every time. The problem is I feel like I should try something else. Logic would tell me if my usual choice is so good, other items must be just as good if not better. On the heels of that, I think this meal makes me happy and what am I so worried about.

Besides, since when did I start living my life according to logic? Not a Vulcan, hello.

I'm not going to say feeling bad for having the same great meal at a nice seafood restaurant is a first world problem, but, you know, draw your own conclusions.

Here's what I'm trying to say. If you want to meet me for lunch at Walt's, and you happen to be in a hurry, don't worry. I know what I'm having.