I just finished "Dining Out: First Dates, Defiant Nights, and Last Call Disco Fries at America's Gay Restaurants" by Erik Piepenberg, a svelte 200-page book that is equal parts nostalgic paean to a bygone era and discussion of a historical trend which asks "does it survive into the present?" It's not a bad book by any means; Erik is a gay Gen Xer who lived through the tail end of the time of the gay village, so it's a world he participated in at least in part. He's also a journalist and so he writes reasonably well, and manages to largely successfully walk the fine line between historian and participant. One thing of note when I read a gay book about gay things is watching how the (gay) author handles "the gay" -- obviously while it's a lot more than a sexuality, a big part of homosexuality for most homosexuals is sexual. Since outsiders often reduce gay people to the sex act, gay authors often fall victim to one of two extremes: either they defiantly focus on the prurient, or they shrink away from it entirely and produce a sanitized work.
At its worst, the latter feels like capitulation and the former performative, so I was quite happy that Erik largely avoids either trap. It is important to note that gay restaurants do have a lot to do with sex; with homosexual conduct outlawed in most of the west until a decade or two ago, many LGBT people couldn't hope for much more than a community, a life in the closet or at the periphery, and some sex. After all, if you can't cohabitate with another man past your 20s let alone marry, your options are limited. Restaurants and bar-restaurants were places to socialize, to look for a liaison, to commiserate with friends after a night on the town, to mourn losses, and so they are intimately tied into the homosexual experience, especially when gay people could not take for granted safety to be themselves. This is a lot of what Erik touches on, and he does a good job of conveying that.
In terms of the good: It's well-written, it's fairly engaging, mixing social trends with vignettes and recollections old and new, as well as with interviews and things he's pulled out of research archives. It also doesn't overstay its welcome. He also does a nice job of including lesbian and transgender narratives and stories in the work, while also discussing the difference between "lesbian/gay" (as it would've largely been considered then) with "queer" (as it would be called now) in a way that feels inclusive without leaving the realm of the historical, and is thoughtful where it isn't inclusive. There's also an extensive bibliography for those of you who might want to track down primary sources.
In terms of the not-so-good: Some of the vignettes drag a little bit, while others are over before they start. Also, I would imagine it's obvious to any queer folks reading this, but many elements of the work cover depressing topics, from the role of restaurants as social spaces during the AIDS crisis to examinations of the decline of the gay village for reasons social and economic, and perhaps most depressingly of all to the fact that the book was published in 2025, a time when any queer person with a brain cell to spare is justifiably concerned for their safety given the second flowering of fascist authoritarianism. Also, for any other non-Americans reading this, and if the title doesn't make it obvious: the book is about America's gay restaurants, and its focus is exclusive, though the author does take pains to go beyond West Hollywood, San Francisco, and NYC.
On the whole, a decent read.