Galveston and Gaido’s

  As a teen, I was intrigued with the 1969 Glenn Campbell song, “Galveston.” It’s about a wartime soldier hoping he would make it back to his hometown of Galveston, Texas and the girl he loved. It was a time when guys just a few years older than me were shipping out to Vietnam, and I wondered if the lyrics reflected what they were feeling. At the time, I had only visited a handful of states, and none of them Texas. I wondered what Galveston must be like, to inspire a song.

  Well, last weekend I got to visit Galveston Island, thanks to my son, Eric and his girlfriend, Caitlin. We saw the charming homes, we walked along the sea wall beach as the waves came in, climbed the big rocks, and searched for shells. My granddaughter even played the “Galveston” song in the car as we were driving over the bridge. Cruisin’ down my memory lane.

  Then we had fantastic seafood at Gaido’s, a landmark that you can’t miss, due to the giant fake crab on the roof. It was founded in 1911 by Italian immigrant San Giacinto Gaido, and it’s still family-owned today.

  The ambiance impressed me as one of those classic white-tablecloth places like Antoine’s in New Orleans.

Our waiter was dressed in white shirt, tie and vest — much more formal than the standard t-shirt uniforms at many places today. I hear that Nick’s Kitchen and Beach Bar next door (also owned by the Gaido family) is pretty casual, if that’s more of what you’re looking for. Still, Gaido’s didn’t seem to have a strict dress code among patrons, at least, for lunch. Nobody seemed to mind that we were dressed for beach-walking.

I noticed some thoughtful “fine dining” amenities such as the wrapped half-lemon in the middle of the oyster plate, so seeds won’t squirt out when you squeeze it over your seafood. And finger bowls of warm water and lemon at the end of the meal.

Gaido’s website says, “Today, we still peel our Gulf shrimp, shuck our Galveston bay oysters and fillet our fresh fish, by hand, the same way SG did more than 100 years ago.”

And we were looking forward to eating this local bounty. The United States imports 70 to 85 percent of its seafood, according to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. Most the shrimp we eat is farmed in ponds in Southeast Asia, not caught anywhere near the good old USA.

 Of course, some of Gaido’s seafood isn’t local. The waiter pointed out that the restaurant’s salmon is farmed in Chile. If I’d been at home in Utah, I might have ordered the salmon. But in Galveston, I wasn’t going to settle for imported salmon, when I could have Gulf shrimp.

Eric and Caitlin started out with half-dozen baked oysters on the half shell ($17), which included a variety of preparations; with cream, asiago and parmesan cheese; baked with butter and cracker crumbs; Bienville with shrimp, mushrooms, onions, white wine, bread crumbs, cayenne pepper and parmesan; Monterey, with shrimp, cream, sherry, aare cheddar; Ponzini, with mushrooms, Swiss and Parmesan cream sauce; and Rockefeller, with spinach, garlic, onion and a hint of jalpeno and anchovy.

The menu said, “Gaido’s has been buying oysters harvested out of
Galveston Bay for over a century. We are extremely careful about our shell fish. Our family has known almost every oysterman working these waters for the last 100 years. We have always paid top dollar for the biggest, and best oysters. You deserve nothing less. The preparations below are classics, each with its own history of inspiration, development, and
refinement.”

Normally I don’t go for oysters, but after that kind of come-on, I had to try one. The crunchy buttery cracker crumbs added to the appeal. Caitlin’s favorite was the asiago/parmesan flavored oyster. Eric liked the Rockefeller preparation best.

I ordered the Gulf shrimp and grits, ($19). Five plump, meaty grilled shrimp were perched on creamy grits with a hint of blue cheese. Some chopped, grilled veggies were tossed in there, maybe to ease some of the guilt over the decadent grits that seemed pretty rich with cream and butter. So good, I could have licked the plate clean, but it would have been a bad example of manners for my granddaughter London.

Caitlin chose Crab-Stuffed Shrimp ($34). Five jumbo Gulf shrimp were stuffed with crab cake, baked and bathed in a pool of lemon butter sauce.

 Eric had Seafood Pasta ($32), that was teeming with grilled shrimp,
scallops, jumbo lump crab, and roasted cherry tomatoes on a bed of angel hair pasta, liberally doused with garlic cream sauce. If I ever get back to Galveston and Gaido’s, I think this is the dish I’ll order.

My granddaughter who “hates” seafood ordered a burger, which she said was super-juicy. The steak fries that came were crisp on the outside and soft and fluffy on the inside. We know this because London was so generous in sharing them with us!  

Old menus were on the wall next to our table, and it was sure interesting to see how prices had changed since 1919. Stuffed crab for 35 cents. Broiled red snapper steak for a whopping 60 cents. Fried shrimp on toast, 60 cents!

Yes, prices have gone up substantially. I would say that Gaido’s is a nice splurge, but not something most of us could afford for everyday meals.

The walls in the lobby are covered with historic photos. If you end up having to wait for a table, perusing them would be a great way to spend the time. Eric was most impressed with the 1924 panoramic photo — throngs of people on the beach at the restaurant’s original location on Galveston’s 21st Street pier.

Here’s another bit of Galveston history: the Great Galveston Storm in 1900 remains the deadliest natural disaster and worst hurricane in U.S. History. (In comparison, Hurricane Katrina in 2005 is ranked number six.). An estimated 6,000 to 12,000 people died on Galveston Island and the mainland. From what I gleaned in historic articles, Galveston was a bustling port city at the time, with one of the highest per capital incomes in the U.S. Although for years, concerned residents proposed building a protective seawall in the event of a hurricane, officials dismissed their concerns. So they were caught unprepared when the storm came ashore with an estimated Category 4 strength, destroying just about eveything in its path.

After the storm, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers constructed a 17-foot seawall that extends for 10 miles. Today, the seawall is a great place to stroll, and enjoy the beach with its waves and sunshine.