Restaurant Blog

Ann and Albert Thornton

2012-01-19T09:17:00.000-08:00

I met Ann and Albert Thornton maybe 40 years ago. Eating at my pancake house, playing on the beach, then years later serving them and their wonderful family in Cagneys and Flamingo Grill. Albert walked in opening day May 1976. introduced himself and became the first customer who ever dined at Cagneys.

It was my pleasure to watch the wonderful Thornton family grow from adorable, adventurous tots to beautiful people. Ann passed away suddenly last week. A classy, stylish and great lady and loving mother. Words to soothe loss always sound inadequate.

Carolyn, Dee, Greg...we remember your mom and your dad with smiles and respect.

Good people as we say down south.

Can I Get an Apology?

2012-01-01T18:59:00.000-08:00

It's a New Year. What do we wish for? We wished for 2011 to end and we wished for an apology from somebody, from anybody for causing this mother of all downturns.

An apology from...

The completely oblivious congressional and banking committees.
The mortgage-bungling-bundling brokerage houses.
The mealy-mouth FDIC.
The liar-loaners and the get-a-loan liars.
The pork-addicted congress who dig passing laws that don't effect them.
The see-no-evil regulators.
Every Presidential administration since Truman.
The last five treasury secretaries.
The fill-in-the-blanks appraisers.
The ponzi-schemers.
The endless GOP/Dem pissin contest.
The toothless, testicle-less SEC.
The sub-prime factories like Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac who are now monkeyed under a manure load of mangled mortgages.
The ethanol boondoggle.
Every egghead economist with a title.
From any congressman who served during the even-odd gas rationing days and swore on a stack of Guideon bibles they'd solve this energy crisis.
And for whoever invented Credit Default Swaps and Collateralized Debt Obligations and every other snake-oil commodity, I want an apology and a bumpy bunk in San Quentin.

And I'd like an especially glib apology from all the TV talkin savants who kept us posted on the Kardashians bra sizes, Charlie Sheen's latest rant, The Donald's comb-over, Tebowing, Gaga's girdles, Bieber's bowlcuts, Ashton's tweets and Simon's t-shirts...but completely missed the oncoming economic tsunami.

Can't someone somewhere just man-up and say "My bad! Not only did I not say anything but I helped cause this mess."

Tim Timberlake family

2011-12-01T21:12:00.002-08:00

It was our honor to have the fantastic family of Tim and Teen Timberlake at Cagney's this Saturday to celebrate their patriarch, wisdom giver and still shoot-his-age golfer!

2011-12-01T21:12:00.001-08:00

It was our honor to have the fantastic family of Tim and Teen Timberlake at Cagney's this Saturday to celebrate their patriach, wisdom giver and still shoot-his-age golfer!

So You Wanna Open a Restaurant?

2011-10-13T12:08:00.000-07:00

Excerpt from Dino's new book:

Like I said…lousy winters in towns with an ocean view are just part of the annual rollercoaster rectal ride. But there’s gonna be entire years when you’re stretched thin as Stein’s corn beef. When your exposed derriere is hangin half over the dempsey dumper. When you’re just one long ticket time away from being another indie restaurant casualty.

My ole man waded through 20 or 30 funky years. Like a one-leg man on an economic hamster wheel he went in and outta business a dozen times and never flinched. But he never drank the Kool-aid, he was a different breed of cat.

He smiled and survived…Hookworm epidemics, polio epidemics, hurricanes of every category, breech births, breach of contracts, drawbridge failures, power failures, grease fires, botched ectomies, highway construction, outbreak of war, food walkin out the back door,boycotts cause we served black patrons, re-cessions, de-pressions, gas shortages, stagnation, hyper inflation, apron rash...he even endured mom crashing her dyna-flow Buick through the wall of the restaurant and his mother-in-law opening right across the street with the same menu using money his wife Angie had squirreled from him. But like I said, he was a different breed of cat.

So git ready Mister or Miss meter-dee cause the suck-egg economy is gonna getcha. Sure as your béarnaise is gonna break at 8pm, the shorts are gonna getcha sooner than later. Yea, the food biz offers a million ways to be stoned like a biblical whore.

So before you jump in with both slip-proof feet, ask yourself. Self, can I financially weather one entire shitty year? Can I bleed money all year, pay my staff, cover my rent, expenses and come back to fight another day?

When Hurricanes Blow

2011-09-20T08:38:00.000-07:00

HURRICANES: We've only been nailed twice Hazel 1954 (closed for almost a year) and Hugo 1989 (closed for 3 weeks), we've had over 25 near-miss storms which have threatened us and turned north. On many near misses we had tree, roadsign, window or rooftop damage, and of course power outages and severe beach erosion even though we were on the good side quadrant. Here's a few quick thoughts....

OUTAGES: On many of the near misses we had power outages from a few hours to days. Entire inventories were lost on at least five occasions. Tens of thousands of dollars. If you have a generator, safely ready it for perishables.

WEEK BEFORE STORM: Order perishables lightly as possible.

Cancel unnecessary orders.

Move some unneeded cooler items to freezer now to get them solidly frozen.

Freeze some large containers of water in your freezer to lengthen food survival time.

Leave some frozen containers in freezer and put others in walk-in cooler to give you a few more hours of safe temp.

Once power is off, don't open freezer of cooler.

OUTSIDE BUILDING: Common sense reminds us to move or tie down anything which can fly thru your windows. They say taping windows doesn't help.

Check flat roof for flyables like empty tar buckets, etc.

Trim branches which rub against or near window, roof eave, neon, roadsign, etc.

INSIDE: Any valuable decor painting, stained glass, etc, near a large window might be moved further back into the restaurant.

CASH: Remove cash from safe and leave cash drawers open to view.

ELECTRIC: Probably best to shut off all AC units. In and out power surges can damage compressors.

DISCONNECT GAS: Ask gas company if you have main disconnect. Ask how to handle gas lines.

WHERE TO GO: If its heading your way and there's a evacuation. Know where you, family, staff and pets will go. Have cash on hand and medications filled.

STAFF: Ask your staff (get cell numbers) where they will be, here or out of town. In the event it misses you'll want to re-open soon as possible.

Tell them what you plan to do and exactly when you plan to reopen if passes safely. You might not have enough key personnel to open even it's a miss.

INS POLICY: Read your policy now. Deductible? Wind and hale? Awning coverage? Roadsign? Food spoilage? Business interruption? Will (BI) pay your staff if you're damaged? Ask agent for details today. When storms are out there it’s too late to buy coverage but you'll know what to expect for yourself and your staff.

COMPUTER & POS: Do you have offsite backup? Do you have a backup you can take with you? Ask your computer company whether you should unplug entire system. In and out power can cause problems.

The life and death of a redfish

2011-08-06T09:31:00.000-07:00

Like Toyotas and Hitchcock Movies, some food fads become plain ole American.
Nachos, gyros, margaritas, calamari, sushi, salsa, yogurt, gyros, even plain ole pizza got the Hollywood gourmet makeover. Then there was redfish.

Bout the same time Ozzy was bitin the head off a bat, Nawlins foodies were taking notice of Paul Prudhomme (y'know the dude so pondiferous he cooks in a wheelchair). His claim to fame was nutty roux and redfish. The kinda recipes traditionally conjured by po foks to mask the taste of of trash fish what nobody useta wanna eat.
The trash fish he famous'd was red drum.
The Boudreaus and Fonteneaus and all the other crawfish-pie Bayou boys call em redfish. Folks round her call em channel bass. I was 25 before I ever heard of somebody besides my old man using channel bass for anything but bait or pier photos.
Prudhomme spiced em fiery, burnt em black and called it Blackened Redfish.
Purty soon gastronome eggheads were enshrining Prudhomme as a porcine prophet. New york foodies took to him like a street hooker on a gold-trimmed Lexus. For the next 25 years every bayou boy with a pirou and a cane pole was out at the turn of the tide reeling in the once plentiful gulf fish, pricing it like snapper and sole and selling it to the big city boys. Nowadays since redfish has been fished out, every finned swimmer cept gefeltafish and blowfish is being offered cajun style. . .

Thanks to fireman and nurse.

2011-07-08T15:36:00.000-07:00

Many thanks to the retired fireman and registered nurse (customers dining) who stepped forward as good samaritans to assist Danny our manager who was administering chest compression to a gentleman in cardiac arrest. Paramedics arrived, took over and the gentlemen was joking with the medics that they were yelling in his ear on the way out. Hopefully he will recover completely.

The Ferris Wheel

2011-05-21T15:38:00.000-07:00

Everybody is psyched over our new Ferris Wheel. So am I kinda. But am stupified when I remember we had a Ferris Wheel, 45 fun rides, a spookhouse, a butt-tightening rollercoaster, a million-memories pavilion with 100 pinball and video games and we wrecking-ball'd all that down to make way for a new computer-operated Ferris Wheel. Maybe now we'll build a new computer-operated pavilion.

OFF SEASON

2011-05-11T18:39:00.000-07:00

Off season is called that for a damn good reason. Thoreau who cooed, “Live each season as it passes, breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit…resign yourself to the influences of each season.” Well Thoreau didn’t know dookee about the Myrtle Beach restaurant off season.
In one fall full moon you rappel from the rarified air of Everest to the cash-register emptiness of the Marianas Trench. Some winter days you open the door and absolutely no one (zero, nada) darkens your door cept a map salesmen and a coupon-book purveyor dunning you for overdue bills and an Irish Traveler offering you a too-good-to-be-true asphalt patch.

Another except from Dino's book

The Rochester Newmans

2011-05-05T16:42:00.000-07:00

The Rochester NY Newmans and their beautiful family dined at their favorite Myrtle Beach restaurant, Cagneys Old Place. 35 years straight they have arrived in matching pastel sport jackets. Whoops! This time they came in unmatched sweaters. Worried, we called a marriage counselor. Everything's still peachy. They're still lovey dovey. Mr Newman has a dollar bill signed by every Cagney's server since 1976. Our entire server history is all there on a dollar bill!

Tumbles out of his chair

2010-12-28T10:37:00.000-08:00

Hand-wavin, veiny nose customer tumbles out of his chair while demonstrating his backswing. I help him up. He's laughin at himself, says he's fine as I hoist him up. Few swings later, he falls out of his seat again. Only this time he lands under the feet of the adjoining table. I go over and help him up again. I make a joke about his jerky golf swing, cozy him back into his seat, remove my belt and buckle it around him and the back of the chair. Everybody laughs, including him.

Few weeks later he calls and threatens to sue me for embarrassing him. Wants to know if some kind of monetary policy is available to avoid a lawsuit.
"What do you do for a living?" I ask.
"I own an insurance company."
"Then my advice is quit drinkin, increase your accident insurance and only dine in padded booths."

Greek Boy-Growing Up Southern

2010-11-09T18:55:00.000-08:00

PRESS RELEASE:
For those who enjoy Ebook readers, Kindle, Nook, Ipad, etc.
Dino Thompson's HILARIOUS memoir "GREEK BOY-GROWING UP SOUTHERN" (a Myrtle Beach memoir) is NOW available on KINDLE & NOOK & iPAD readers for 8.99.

All 590 pages and 85 vintage photos will be available for DOWNLOAD at $8.99.
Now you won't have to get tendinitis holding the 3-lb printed version or phlebitis setting it on your lap. But of course if you still love print, you can go to www.greekboy.info and order the printed version or drop by Flamingo Grill or Cagneys.

Let Dino know if you have any ideas how to get the word out.

Wine and Oenophiles

2010-10-19T07:13:00.000-07:00

Excerpt from Dino's new book:
I poke fun at wine snobs cause any kinda snob oughta be poked.
Remember, we're talkin about a concoction traditionally prepared by hairy-leg wives and daughters jumpin panty-less into grape-filled wooden vats.

Check out this description I lifted from Edward Dietch's wine column.

"What emerges is gorgeous aromas of ripe, dark berry and cedar. Then an array of tastes that include blueberry, plum, blackberry, cedar, and mocha as well as hints of nutmeg and cinnamon. The wine is well structured, refined yet slightly earthy. The tannins have softened to provide texture but they don't intrude."

So tell me...Is this bon vivant a 16-adjective genius or is this a cork-sniffin snob who don't know his butt from an oak barrel? What is the dude tryin to say? Is the wine good, great or salad dressing?

Or get a load of this Gael Greene wine description from her book, Insatiable.
"....the first sip was bombastic, 3 baritones in simultaneous assault. After a bite of pepperoni and cheese, and a few minutes in the glass, the deeply regal red warmed and softened, complex as a poem in a foreign language, like satin on my tongue. and I wept."

Well I wept and wet my Calvins when I read this rococco dribble. That paragraph would bring a tear to a glass eye. Gael is the queen of well-seasoned adjectives. I'd wash her size-10 manicured feet with warm Mountain Dew and dry them with spun silk if she were here.

Wine should be fun, easy, non-intimidating. I've savored good farmer-made elderberry wine fermented in a musty bacca barn. I've dis-savored a way over-priced '67 Lafitte Rothschild and couldn't swallow my first swig of Chateau Margaux. But I like most wines, even jug wines are drinkable. They don't need fancy stemware, combo adjectives or swirlin instructions. Screw top, stainless steel, oak, don't matter, you like em or you don't.

The golfing Cruds

2010-10-10T10:01:00.000-07:00

The Cruds dine again at Flamingo Grill.
Russell Barringer, Dusty, Page and his classy bunch of buddies have been coming to the beach for golf, cameraderie and memories for 40 years.
For over 30 yrs we've served and laughed with them at Cagneys and Flamingo Grill. These boys to men have enjoyed many a large time. Like a lot of us, the once hard chargers are getting long in the tooth and short on the drives. There's only 16 this year but they still have a twinkle in their eye, a helluva sense of humor and a hearty appetite.
Polish up those foot wedges boys.

What's in a name?

2010-08-25T08:07:00.000-07:00

I've had mighty tasty meals in joints with names like...Donut Diner, Forks, Eats, Punk's Place, Terminal cafe, Chat'n Chew and Hoar House.

And not so tasty meals in tight-lip, tablecloth joints with names like Le Bon Repas, Paradise, Bon Appetit, Legends, Primo's, Parthenon and House of Good Food.

So what's in a name? Does a nifty monker guarantee success or insure flopdom?
Would Cary Grant have made it big as Archibald Leach? Roy Rogers as Leonard Slye? Muddy Waters as McKinley Morgenfield? Would you wear a shirt logo'd with Lifshitz on the front? That was Ralphee Lauren's real name. How much 7-Up would 've sold with it's original name, Lithiated Lemon? Trader Vic's useta be called Hinky Dinks. Nobody could give a piece of Pantagonian toothfish away until they marketed it as Chilean sea bass. Rose' was dead as nehru suits til they called it blush. Orange roughy useta be called slime head. How many hifultin customers would could actually fork a mouthful of pig thymus glands into their mouth if some clever chef hadn't named them sweetbreads?
Clint Eastwood opened a packed place in snooty Carmel called Hog's Breath Saloon, but that's Clint Eastwood. He could open a fancy steak joint called Hoof hearted and make a go of it.

Miserable People

2010-08-13T16:04:00.000-07:00

I once asked my old man why a certain customer was being so mean.
He smiled, patted me on the head. "Son, there's two kinds of people in the world, happy people and miserable people. Happy people are always happy no matter what, miserable people are always miserable. And their mission in life is to make you miserable. Run from those people. Cause...no matter how hard you try you can't make miserable people happy."

Then he smiled and grabbed my arm, pulled me close. "But we need miserable people."
"Why do we need miserable people," I asked.
"Cause miserable people make the rest of us look good."

The Boardwalk

2010-07-31T16:18:00.000-07:00

We all love the new boardwalk. Me, I'm old, I remember the old concrete boardwalk, and the one before that. Here's an excerpt from my book about goin to the boardwalk back in my long ago.

"Got myself a fist fulla change, my collar up, my ducktail combed perfect, skinny suede belt on the side, dungaree cuffs rolled up into a tight peg, ID bracelet round my wrist, crucifix round my neck, and hawkbill knife in my back pocket.

Just finished hammerin 4 Coca-cola caps into the leather bottoms of my size-5 loafers. I'm headin to to the boardwalk. Gonna take a shot at scorin me on a those skull rings or maybe a carved coconut head. Then I'm gonna nosh a corndog and punch in Honky Tonk on the Wurlitzer and ask some girl in cheeky shorts to fast dance"

Well Done Steaks

2010-07-17T13:59:00.000-07:00

Well Done Steak! Last night I wandered thru and spoke to everyone...everyone happy and complimentary.
Except one. He ordered his filet "well done". Mr. Cliff, Our right-on-time grill man has been with us 30 years. Wolfgang Puck would have to stand on his grandma's shoulder to kiss his bee-hind. The steak came out perfectly well done. Customer sent it back to be cooked some more. Cliff cooked it for one more minute. Customer sent it back because it was dry. Other than boiling it, can someone tell me how to grill a well-done steak that's not dry?

Food Critics- Why do they exist?

2010-07-02T10:20:00.000-07:00

Excerpt from Dino's new book:
Just cause you're capable of forking dead animals in your mouth without blinding yourself, doesn't mean you're qualified to comment on the nuances of fusion of Japanese or Middle Eastern flavors. And it sure as hell doesn't mean you're qualified to condemn the ravioli verde at Chez Pannisse or the cold collard hog'n hominy at Bubba's Snak Shak.

Take a listen to a typical description in Gael Green's book, Insatiable…
“I remember square balloons of puff pastry more delicate than I’d ever tasted…shards of buttery leaves filled with unbearable lightness of crème chantilly cushioning a layer of pear, each slice beatified with a tinge of caramel.”

Well that’s bout the same way I felt the first time I had a warm Bojangles blueberry biscuit, a cold Mountain Dew and kissed my first girl. Most kids would describe Little Debbie Cakes that way if they could. I love dancing through Miss Greene’s syrupy puddles. But if you sat my bare butt on a Cuisinart I couldn’t create a sentence that spectacularly juicy.

But why just pick on the Indie joints? Why not review every dang one of the 2000 Applebys or 1000 Outbacks? Or the uniform colors and sauce packets at the zillion Subways and McDonalds? They sling more hot food in one day than all the indie joints do in a career.

Or why not review the big-box chain snack bars and lunch counters?
Can you imagine some hoof-in-the-mouth blowhard critiquing the harsh lighting in Costco or napkin ply in Target? How bout the $10 hotdog at Yankee Stadium or the garish box-seat décor? Take it a stupid step further and imagine a Times critic commenting on the anorexic poses of a Bloomingdale mannequin, or the hairstyle of a cardiac surgeon, or dissin a Mayo Clinic masseuse cause they detected a callus on her palm or taking a star away from a master plumber cause he flashed butt-crack and didn’t sterilize his snake? Way stupid right?
Bout as lame as if the same people critiqued NY’s finest flophouses.
Yea, a flophouse critic. Why not?
Picture some Brown University, wallaby-wearin Jism PHD working at the bowels of the NY Times who grades the sexual act on 14 categories: Initial impression, creativity, consistency, position, conversation, first course, main entrée, final course, lighting, follow through, aftertaste, depth, corkiness and cost to value.
Here's what she said...#$!@&*!(Sorry, you'll have to buy the book to find out what she said)

Food Cost Theory- Still ain't got one.

2010-06-17T12:51:00.000-07:00

There’s plenty of food-cost formulas, but there’s no one-trick-pony magic formula.

I remember my ole man, who counted the NCR register like a blind man feelin somebody’s face, useta say...“If it cost a dollar, you sell it for $3….one third food, one-third labor, one-third everything else.” Funny thing is that FDR food cost theory still works for a sit-down joint like mine. Problem is I ain’t smart enough to get there from here. I wet-dream about keepin my food cost at 33%.

Maybe back in my Pancake House era, when kids thumbed safely to school and drivers used turn signals. Back when country ham was the high-dollar item and it took a bicepy man to fold a beer can, I hovered right around the 33% number. But food prices back then, specially the early to mid-70s, were bout as stable as the needle on a congressman’s lie detector. Remember those even-odd gas lines snaking around the entire block? People pushin their cars to the pumps, signs on pumps screaming...OUT OF GAS! Little ole bun-haired ladies bitch-slappin grown men who butted in line.
Yea, prices were jumpin around so fast, I wrote on the menu…
“Please Order quickly, We Can Only Guarantee These Prices For 30 Minutes.”

SURVIVAL

2010-05-19T14:30:00.000-07:00

Excerpt from Dino's New Book:
We've survived a cacophony of calamities.
Hurricane Hazel & Hugo, The Klan, hookworm epidemics, breach of contract, breech births, break-ins, band-sawed fingers, droughts, floods, fights, liquor raids, mom crashin the Lasalle into the side of the restaurant. Even survived the terror of polio epidemics, iron lungs and white-coat scientists peeking into microscopes at squiggly death on Movie Tone News.

We survived commies, bigots, boycotts, The Klan, the threat of nuclear war, gas war, Disneyland, Disney World, the Pachuko Gang, trichinosis, suffocating leases, illegal poker games, stuck draw-bridges, desolate winters, national chains and kitchenettes.

And now we have to survive sub-prime banks, liar loans, Greedy Wall Street,oblivious congressmen and 24-hr doom and gloom by Medusa TV talking heads.

Dining Preferences?

2010-04-22T16:25:00.001-07:00

How have your dining-out preferences changed over the past two funky years?
We'd love to hear from you. Are you early-birding, eating out less, splitting meals, waiting for 2 for ones?

The old Greeks

2010-04-20T15:16:00.000-07:00

When my old man landed in Myrtle Beach in '46, 8 outta 10 sitdown joints were owned or operated by Greeks...Broadway Restaurant, Capri, Roxy, Mayflower, Kozy Korner, Ocean Front Tavern and Seven Seas Grill. Most all those Greeks worked 18-hour days and went down with the ship wearin their slip-proof clogs and bowties.

Back in the day when packards ruled the road and store mannequins didn't have nipples, it was a law Greeks had to work in restaurants.

Excerpt from Dino's new book

2010-02-26T09:44:00.000-08:00

I remember trying to impart my maitre' d style and philosophy to James Sakalian and Danny Ferguson, our two hotshot bartenders both promoted to manager. James and Danny had great charisma, high energy, fairness, smarts and a disarming smile. They were gonna make jam-up managers. I was pow-wowing the nuances of handling the front, reading the needs of waiting guests, handling reservations, accommodating regulars, etc.
James leans back in his chair, slaps me on the back and shoots me an infectious grin. "Don't worry bout showin us the front, we've got that down. Just teach us the back of the house, y'know, the kitchen stuff, inventory, ordering, expediting."
You two have got the front down, yea right.
"Yea what's the big deal about accurately estimating wait times, seating fairly, reading a party's special occasion needs or special physical needs? Jugglin reservations, preferred seating, and walk-in regulars? Coordinating large groups, loud groups, drunk groups, corporate outings, and romantic occasions? Ad-libbing no shows, dine & dashers, schmoozing pushy little ole ladies, soothing unhappy children, and defanging belligerant assholes? Knowing when to be King Solomon, when to be Job, when to be clairvoyant, when to be firm, when to stand your ground, when to show your teeth? Yall got all that down?"
Yea, the front's nothin. Just point me in that direction and watch us go.

Excerpt from Dino's new book

2010-01-24T13:51:00.000-08:00

You're a hot shot maitre D at a swank country club. You can schmooze the ladies, please the blue hairs, cater to the demanding whims of the CEO clientele and handle a hot grill if necessary. One of the nouveau riche realtors savors your style and suggests you open your own bistro in his vacant strip mall. He's so confident in your abilities he'll be an investor. He pulls in 3 other investors. They'll gratis you 20% ownership and a 40 thou salary. You've wet-dreamed of designing, owning, running your own joint. This is your monetary moment in the sun.
The place opens gangbusters.
There's a waiting line to give you back slaps. It's the new hot spot. One investor, the local Mercedes and reefer dealer, suggests you fire your bartender and hire his puke-on-purpose Smith dropout daughter. You balk. They fire you at the next meeting and replace you with investor number 2's stepson, a recently laid-off Lehman broker with a nose candy habit and Madoff ties. You still own 20% of the joint but you'll never see a dividend long as they handle the books and get first count.
And when it folds in 4 months you're on the hook for 20% of the debt.

Dancin Room Reunion.

2009-12-22T07:29:00.000-08:00

The Dancin Room reunion was a large time. Lotta familiar faces and and pavilion-era jitterbugs boogie'n down stayin young. Skeeter, Darryl Hammond, Cooter Jennings, Rosalyn Anderson, Deck Dargan, Gretchen, Arnie Webb, Keith Salvo, Johnny Butler, Bo Bryan, John Paul Sessions, Martha. I was thinkin Officer Thorpe was gonna show and arrest us for dirty shaggin. Even Charlie and Jackie Womble joined us.

Great to see everyone togged out in their jitterbug shoes and attitudes. Thanks to John and Liz Sturgeon rallying the troops and Randy Jennings spinning some shag classics.

Halloween past.

2009-11-02T07:17:00.000-08:00

For the first 15 years Halloween was another large time at Cagney's. In our Dancin Room we featured goblin line dances and awards for best costume and best costume dancer. Our creative staff garbed out as Gumby, Zorro, Madonna, gangster, astronaut, or one of the Blues Brothers took your order. Tin Man, wolfman or Dracula might serve your drink or buss your table.

Legendary server Linda Spangler once Zulu'd her entire body black, weaved dreads, necklaces, bra and skirt out of 2000 bleached chicken wing bones. My partner skated in dressed as a big-hair, big-boob, roller derby slut. Another tuxedo'd customer made his entrance in a coffin flanked by 6 vampirettes in see-thru camisole nighties. Yes, Halloween was always a great excuse for grownups acting fool. One of our regulars showed up mummied in nothing but seran wrap. Another lady painted her entire body with concentric lines, landmarks and highway names.
She was Rand McNally.

Yea, Halloween brings the naughty outta people. Ever bring it out in you? Tell us.

So you think the food biz is easy.

2009-10-24T16:07:00.000-07:00

A regular customer yesterday asked me if the food business was easier than his insurance business. That gave me a good chuckle.

750 restaurants have closed since we opened Cagney's in 1976. More are closing every day.
I have an obituary list of 1200 eating destinations which have come and gone on the grand strand. Every one of those was somebody's dream. It's a tough biz. 2008 was tough. 2009 was even tougher. Like rising water 2010 was more of the same.
The entire world got the economic flu.

Except From Dino's new Book

2009-10-21T14:14:00.000-07:00

The Perils and Pitfalls of Partnerships:

...Yea some partnerships can survive and thrive. Me and my partner have been Sancho and Don Quixote since before Carter. We gently butted heads and behinds but never once got in the other's face. I'd turn the music up, he'd turn it down. I'd turn down the lights he'd turn em up. He preferred dark wood, I liked natural tones. I preferred a NY Strip, he was a filet man. He liked a clean look on ads and menus, I dug funky artwork. He wore a 3-piece suit to funerals and weddings, I didn't own a tie. I wrote the training manual, he wrote the soup recipe. I deciphered the lease and the P&L, he decoded the broiler specs and re-plumbed the gas lines.

Handling employee snafus and removing rowdies by the seat of their pants was my job. Rewiring a 220v receptacle was his. He stayed alimony free, single and happy. I stayed married and happy. And neither of us ever offered the other romantic advice or was a sterno sniffer, slave to the bottle or arm spiker.

If he was in maitre d' mode I eased to the back. If he was on the kitchen line I manned the front. We both signed checks, both interviewed, neither ever questioned the other's integrity. We coulda made lots more money if we'd been a tad more tyrannical with pricing, expenditures, overtime and leaner staffing. But that wutn't our style.

Along the way we each made concessions, chased a few windmills, sometimes the same bar girls. We had a lotta laughs, made a lotta mistakes, peed in a few public fountains, but never needed bail money. And through it all we never jumped into each other's face and always respected each other's veto.

From what I hear that's plenty unusual.

Caviar & Truffles: EXCEPT FROM DINO'S NEW BOOK

2009-10-21T13:57:00.000-07:00

Print and TV foodies constantly napalm us with with flaming hype and silver spit-buckets fulla syrupy adjective about fancy new dishes and wines.

Then you finally taste one.

You taste a truffle encapsulated in crystalline florettes of parsnips, a glob of beluga caviar on a lavender foam cracker and wash it all down with a turbo-tannic glass of Haute Medoc One.

Your face prunes into Peggy Anguish as you whine, "Is that all there is? Hells bells I'd rather have a NY strip, a shrimp cocktail with some good ole cocktail sauce and a Michelob."

2009-10-16T14:26:00.000-07:00

(Excerpt from Dino's new book about the restaurant biz)
As the years pile on, most of us relish the opportunity to re-nourish our saggy spirit with the pleasant smells, sounds and sights that peanut butter to the top of your brain.
First taste of lipstick, cotton candy, smell of electric bumper cars, salt spray, clean clothes, cedar-lined closets, puppy breath, bacon fryin, new Buster Browns.
And trains. The muscular smell of metal and diesel.

Train stations were a big deal to a wide-eyed kid luggin his fabric suitcase to Visit aunt Sandra or Yia Yia. My first depot destination was Grand Central. That huge suck-your-breath-away soaring space. Maybe yours was Penn or Union Station.
These cavernous spaces were the original malls. Soaring skylit barrel-vaulted ceilings, massive marble columns, pulse-punpin examples of Greek and Roman architecture, pocked with beaucoup tobacco shops, haberdashers, bowling alleys, souvenir kiosks, stand-up greasy spoons, upscale cafes, newstands, and smoke-filled lounges with bow-tied barkeeps pourin from big forbidden bottles. They even had their own police station. Taj Mahal had nothin on these cathedrals of commerce.
Remember the call. "All aboard for the Stream-liner...all-a-board!"

Remembering D.A and Marci Moore.

2009-10-10T16:43:00.000-07:00

While we're paying tribute to members of our Cagneys dining familiy let us remember that big lovable bear of a man, D.A. Moore. He and his vivacious wife Marci ate with us almost every week for 30 years. Every member of the Cagney's staff hugged them on sight. Both were quick with a smile and always a new joke. A great couple and loyal thoughtful friends to all our staff.
They don't come any better. Good people as we say down south.

Buddy Deal from High Point

2009-10-10T15:24:00.000-07:00

One of our Cagneys/Flamingo friends, Dusty Maynard, told us Buddy Deal had recently died.
Buddy was one of our earliest regular customers. Buddy was a classy original. Always sat with his back to the wall, ordered a carafe of house wine, spinach salad and Flounder Cagney. Always had the George Hamilton tan, he carried himself airrish. Always peacocked out in crispy-starched gant shirts, logo'd polo blazer garnished with silk hankerchief. Footwear was always gucci loafers, no socks. Yup, George Hamilton had nothin on buddy. Rest in peace ole friend and our warmest thoughts and memories to his beautiful wife Doris.
Dino, Dino, Danny and The Cagney's staff

Bad Year Comin-Can you survive it?

2009-10-08T13:45:00.000-07:00

(Excerpt from Dino's new book)

Before you open your own bistro, cafe, diner, or AYCE buffet...answer me this one question.

Can you survive an off year, a down year like 2008? A can't-bring-a-dime-to-the-bottom-line year like 2009? A too broke to pay attention year?

If the answer is no then forgitaboutit.

Cause it's comin. Maybe the first year, probably the 2nd, for darn sure the 3rd. You can expect to slog through some tough times. I'm not talkin a case of wilted spinach or broken eggs.

I'm talkin major equipment breakdowns, Cad-3 hurricanes, ceiling cave-ins, 100-year floods, sewer backups, power failures, swine flu outbreaks, slip'n fall scamsters, night deposit muggings, in-law embezzlers, 9-11 biblical disasters.

Do you have a money plan B, plan C?

If not then you brought a pasta spoon to a knife fight.

Have You Ever Been a Server?

2009-08-20T10:06:00.001-07:00

(Excerpt from new book)
I've had the pleasure to observe hundreds of sometimes shy hostesses and pimply busboys and awkward dishwashers blossom into dynamic servers and dynamite line cooks...earning the respect of their peers and paying their way through life with cash, sweat and tears.

I'm saying those trials of kitchen and dining room fire will steel your emotional sinew, sharpen your wit, infect you with tolerance, laser your focus, turbo your memory, hone your sense of humor, give you power over petty, and force you to prioritize and time like a ranger in a firefight.

You'll go in sausage and come out sirloin, armored with the gypsy gift of reading faces, body language. anticipating catastrophes and equipped with an immaculate B.S. detector. So if you've never served the public, you should have...at least once in your life.

Dr. Stanley Vetter

2009-07-22T16:21:00.000-07:00

Longtime family doctor, Dr. Stanley Vetter died. A man who practiced medicine the old fashion way with heart and compassion. He was a wonderful part of the Cagney's family for 33 years. All of Cagney's staff remember him as a gentle, sweet man and a loving husband.
Our warmest thoughts and memories to his wife Sally and family.

2009-07-15T15:47:00.000-07:00

Bill Hemmer from Fox News was back again for dinner with his wonderful mom and dad.
His sister Ann celebrated her 40th...she looks 30. Great family! "Good people" as we say down south.

Summer

2009-06-10T16:08:00.001-07:00

Summer's here, a walk on the beach, saltspray and sunshine is a good way to shed your troubles for a while. I recommended it highly. It's difficult to have a bad day at the beach...even in these challenging times. How has 2008 & 2009 affected you?
What changes have you made this past year?
What do you expect next year?

MARRIAGES & CANOODLIN

2009-04-09T16:56:00.000-07:00

Marriages & Canoodlin...
OVER THE YEARS WE'VE HAD OVER 30 COUPLES, WHO MET, CANOODLED, HOOKED UP AND MARRIED WHILE WORKING TOGETHER AT OUR RESTAURANT. As

As long as there's people on the job, there's gonna be canoodlin and attemted cannodlin on the job. It's tough enough getting staff to do their sidework, now you gotta be a sexual lifeguard too.

We've had 5 marriages in our dining room and one in the dancing room.
The first marriage was a total adlib for a lovey dovey couple sitting at our bar.
We moved the table in front of the dazzling stain glass window from the Red Springs baptist church, moved the hostess stand over for a pulpet, flanked it with two areca palms, carpeted the area with a wall oriental, placed candles all around and chilled a bottle of champagne.

Then we marched the tres' handsome couple through a grinning gauntlet of servers, several gaping customers and a kazoo band of hostesses. There, waiting at the pulpet with a Johnny Cash outfit and voice was Ken Grimsley, a regular customer who read a semi-solemn ceremony written by him and the owner with a bit Gibran, Rod McKuen mixed into the traditional Dearly beloveds.

Another memorable ceremony featured a traveling candy salesman.
We decorated the altar with hundreds of baby snickers, heath bars, and hersheys. The centerpiece was a huge silver bowl brimming with M&Ms, which were later thrown as rice when the happy couple made their glorious exit.
Viva romance.

2009-04-04T17:39:00.000-07:00

Prom Night- Last night we had several Socastee and Carolina Forest high school promers in.
The girls were spectacular in Oscar-worthy dresses that cost more than the car I drove to pick up my date when I went to the prom. Ah the good ole days. One thing made me sad. Young marine came in decked out in his dress blues. He'd served a tour in Iraq, had battle ribbon pinned on his chest. He was only 19, I couldn't serve him a drink. He can command a tank, fire a 50 cal sniper rifle and drive over IEDs every day, but he can't have a beer.

Lost and Found

2009-03-28T14:30:00.000-07:00

Customers leave everything in a restaurant.
Keys, wallets, purses, jackets, cellphones, shades, shoes, gameboys, umbrellas, pills, reefer, coke, cameras and beaucoup credit cards. ...they even leave crutches, wheelchairs and oxygen tanks.
Usually it's more a nuisance than a problem...but then there's always the exception.

Sometime they leave children.
Customer informs me there's an unattended baby in the bathroom.
I find the baby. We ask around the dining room. No one seems to have lost a baby. I was terrified, thinking..."Oh my gosh I'm gonna have to raise it."

30 minutes later a 20ish lady comes in and sheepishly says, "I think I left my baby here."
"Was he in a blue basinet, bout two feet long?"
"You have him..."
"Yes mam, he's in the service area with two of our waitresses. Would you like him back or did you stop in to say goodbye?"
"That's not funny."
"No mam it's not."

A lotta restaurants!

2009-03-23T07:46:00.001-07:00

Did you know? Over 60 restaurants opened in the Myrtle Beach area in 2007?
There are now over 1600 hundred dining choices in our Grand Strand population of 55,000, making us one of the highest per capita concentrations of restaurants in America?
Did you know over 1/3 of all adults had their first work experience in food service? And possibly their first sexual encounter as well.
So where was your first work experience?