Post #652145 by YakRider on Sat, Sep 15, 2012 10:50 AM

Hey there,

It's a real "blast-from-the-past" seeing pictures of Dug's place and some of his inimitable creations.

I worked at Dug's... (Now that's funny. After over 30 years I instantly lapsed into calling it "Dug's" and not "The West Indies.) Anyway, I worked for Dug during my high school years, starting in the back as a busboy and then apprenticed to chef George Lim, perhaps the most cantankerous, short-fused man alive. He was also a chef whose creations were stuff of local legend. I would put him up against the kitchen at Trader Vic's anytime.

A few things that I remember...

Dug would address all adult males, "Governor".

He loved telling stories to the clientele, and I remember them bellying-up to the bar just to hear a good story. I never heard him repeat one. He did have a little fun with the tipsy, "know-it-all" clientele: he kept a bridge compass near the middle of the bar area and a nautical map behind the counter. He would bait and bet the uninitiated by telling him that Carson City was farther West than Los Angeles. (He explained to me later that, since Los Angeles is actually on the Pacific and Carson City is east of the Sierras, we create a spatial error. I know. I did it too!) After a few flabbergasting moments, out would come that map and the incredulous client would have to buy rounds or some such.

My experience with Dug was that his personality set the mood of the entire restaurant. He was equally cheerful with a restaurant full on a Summer's evening or on a sparse, snow-jammed Winter night. This may sound like a gush, but who would deny Dug a little hero-worship?

He said that he and Victor Bergeron went "way back," and told ever-growing, ever more embellished stories of their years of carousing and drinking their way around the Pacific Rim, and how he got the best of Victor sometimes and sometimes not.

I got to watch Dug earning his fame with his "Blue Mai Tai," from-scratch Pina Coladas, grogs and flourish drinks (he cheerfully did five and seven-layered Pousse cafes on-demand.) He didn't water-down or scrimp on anything for the guests. Nothing in the place was inexpensive, and, conversely, nothing was cheap. ...except for the endless tape loop of Hawaiian music that he had wafting through the place every night.

One thing that I found remarkable was that he did great business in spite of being in Casinoland (where good food and alcohol are extremely inexpensive), and the restaurant was out on the far edge of town.

George, Dug's cranky chef, could make magic with his huge fried prawns, perfectly cut and broiled New York Strips, broiled and buttered lobster on that side of the Sierras. His best-sellers were his Polynesian pork, sweet & sour shrimp, stir-frys and several other Polynesian/continental-influenced cuisine...but George could be volatile. He'd cuss like a street urchin from Hong Kong (which he was, as I discovered, during long hours in the kitchen with him.)

Dug sold the restaurant to a man named Heinz (and his wife Inga). He lost 1/2 of the kitchen staff the day that happened.
The place began to list to one side after that. Heinz was an active and surprisingly functional alcoholic and was drunk every time that I saw him, no matter what time or day it was. He definitely didn't have Dug's personality or drive.

I saw your note about "Dug's Windjammer." Unfortunately, that scheme never materialized. When he announced the sale of the restaurant, he said he was working hard to open a new restaurant, the Windjammer, on the other end of town. All of the staff promised that they would jump ship the moment he opened the new place. It didn't happen, and now, the only thing left is the little house that was behind the restaurant. And to me, that's sad.

I'm grateful for having the unique opportunity of knowing and working for Dug. and, by the way, I'd put him up against "The World's Most Interesting Man" anytime! :wink:

Yak (Donald)