Arts & Entertainment
Mixing it up
Get as basic or elaborate as you wish at new yogurt parlor

Bryan DeRosa of Menchie’s on U Street. (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)
If variety is the spice of life, new frozen yogurt shop Menchie’s (1939 12th Street, N.W.) has it in spades with 14 rotating flavors, nearly 50 toppings and the chance to get as much or as little as you want.
Danna and Adam Caldwell founded the Encino, Calif.-based chain, which offers self-serve frozen yogurt with a wide selection of toppings. The name Menchie’s comes from the Yiddish word mensch, meaning “good person.” Each person at a Menchie’s franchise wants to help the guest have a positive experience, enjoy their mix and come back for more.
Menchie’s has nearly 100 rotating flavors including a range of regular, low carb, low sugar and non-dairy yogurts. Menchie’s also has its own private label of yogurt allowing its staff to develop their own flavors and distinguish themselves from other frozen yogurt establishments throughout the United States. Menchie’s frozen yogurts include live and active cultures (a digestive aid not often found in frozen yogurt) and meet quality standards established by the National Yogurt Association.
When one walks into the playful store on 12th Street between T and U streets, it’s easy to get excited. I felt like a naughty child filling sample cups with one of the 14 flavors (or two flavors swirled together), something one is encouraged to do before deciding. Each flavor seemed better than the last and the more I tried, the harder the decision became.
But before I put myself into a self-induced diabetic coma, I stopped tasting and decide on a flavor. I chose the red velvet, a rich and creamy yogurt that replicated the flavors of my favorite cake incredibly well. I topped it with a bit of coconut and some white chocolate chips. My husband decided to go with half a cup of chocolate and vanilla snow swirl and half a cup of Dole pineapple and coconut swirl, with a bit of strawberry topping. We paid — 39 cents per ounce — and sat inside, though outdoor seating is also available.
As we sat, shop owner and friend Anthony Aligo, who’s gay along with his business partner Bryan DeRosa, pulled up a chair and joined us. Seeing that my husband had two distinctive flavors in his cup, Aligo said, “I’m looking into getting cup dividers so that you can have his-and-her cups, or just keep your flavors from touching.”
Aligo is clearly a man after my own heart, because I would have had another flavor, but I didn’t want it touching my red velvet concoction. Aligo spoke excitedly about the flavor options, the toppings, and even showed us a picture of the biggest cup of frozen yogurt he’s seen so far — a mile-high mix of flavors and toppings costing a little over $18.
“She walked out of the store with it, but I was just worried it was going to topple over onto the ground, I don’t even know if she managed to eat all or any of it,” he said.
Aligo opened Menchie’s because “he wanted a place for our LGBTQ family to be able to congregate and socialize as well as cater to our youth so that they always have a safe place to be.”
His favorite thing about the store is to be out from behind the counter and socializing with the customers. He’s working hard on outreach, partnering with local businesses as well as organizations like SMYAL so Menchie’s can live up to his vision. He says business has been strong since the July opening.
Menchie’s is open Sunday through Thursday from 11 a.m.-11 p.m. and Friday and Saturday from 11a.m. to midnight.

Menchie’s on U Street owner Anthony Aligo (far left), store manager Sarah Null (second from the right front row) and store owner Bryan DeRosa (far right) with other employees. (Photo courtesy of Menchie’s on U Street)
Just as humans have always had meals, queer humans, too, have enjoyed meals. Yet what is it that makes “queer food” distinct?
At the beginning of May in Montreal, the Queer Food Conference 2026 sought not to answer that question, but to further interrogate it. The conference united scholars, activists, artists, journalists, farmers, chefs, and other food industry professionals for three days of panels, workshops, discussions, and, yes, meals, in an inclusive, thoughtful, contemplative-yet-whimsical environment, taking a comprehensive view of the landscape of queer food.
The two organizers – Professor Alex Ketchum, at the Institute for Gender, Sexuality, and Feminist Studies of McGill University in Montreal, and Professor Megan Elias, Director of Food Studies & Gastronomy at Boston University – met in 2022 when Elias acted as a peer reviewer for Ketchum’s second book, “Ingredients for a Revolution,” a wide-ranging history of more than 230 feminist and lesbian-feminist restaurants, cafes, and coffeehouses from 1972 to the present in the US.
Elias, taken by the book and its exploration, invited Ketchum to speak at one of Elias’s courses, at which pastries were served and feminist bread making was baked into conversation. Elias floated the idea of co-organizing a queer food conference – and a hot 24 hours later, Ketchum said yes, with plans sketched out, from grants to topics to speakers. In parallel, the duo started to conceptualize “Queers at the Table,” a book based on their work (published last year).
The conference, the book, the research: their work is, in part, grounded in the question: What is queer food? True to queer theory, each has her own nuanced response as drivers of their research, challenging the traditional and looking beyond norms of food studies. Ketchum’s view is that it is grounded on food by and for the queer community, in specific histories, and especially in the labor behind the food. Elias posits that queer food is at the intersection of queerness and culinary studies, beyond gender norms and binaries, back to the societal basics of queer food as part of queer humans always having meals. “Queer food destabilizes assumptions about food, gender and sexuality, making space for a wider range of relationships to food,” she says.
The academics’ professed enthusiasm, however, rarely reached beyond small circles.
“I regularly attended big food studies conferences, but almost never saw presentations about gender identity beyond women’s roles,” says Elias about her prior work, and when her students would ask for additional literature about sexuality and food, results had been sparse. Ketchum echoed this gap: When she was in graduate studies, she received hesitation from leadership about her chosen field of study. By 2024, however, queer food as an area of study and practice had grown, whether in popular culture or well as in publishing, setting the stage for the first Queer Food Conference in 2024 in Boston. Their aim at that even was to launch the subfield of queer food studies into the mainstream, so that fellow academics, students, and those interested in the space could convene, “creating space for others to build,” says Ketchum. “People were enthusiastic.”
Once Ketchum and Elias published “Queers at the Table” in 2025 (notably, gay author John Birdsall also published a book examining queer identity through food last year, “What Is Queer Food?”), they laid the foundation for the 2026 conference in Montreal. This edition was an “embodied” conference, inclusive of various ontologies in queer food studies: theory, labor, art, taste, an interdisciplinary, expansive grounding.
Topics ranged from cookbooks and influencers to farming and land movements, bars and cafes, brewing and baking, history and sociology, writing and printmaking, healthcare and community, and centering marginalized – especially trans – voices.
Naturally, food was centered. The conference’s keynotes were not academics, but the chefs themselves who created the food with their own hands that attendees ate over the three days. “Not to disregard a pure academic space,” says Ketchum, “but to not have food in a room when we talk about food would be wild.”
Jackson Tucker, a Distinguished Graduate Fellow at the University of Delaware, said that “What I found [at the conference] was a genuinely diverse gathering: scholars who did grounded social research but also practitioners, organizers, and people who had never thought about an academic conference in their lives and didn’t need to. That mix is the soul of this whole project for me. Without the people who are out in the world doing queer food, the conference wouldn’t exist.”
Ketchum – her home being Montreal – also worked to fold in community-driven events so that attendees could get a taste of queer food in the city outside of classroom walls; for example, attendees participated in a collaborative evening pizza-making class at a queer-owned pizzeria.
The interdisciplinary nature of the conference led to sharing of research, thoughts, activities, and planning. There was a “value of bringing people together of different backgrounds, which leads to richer discussion,” she says.
Elias picked up on this theme: “I saw people bonding and connecting and believing in Queer Food Studies,” – one of the central goals that Ketchum noted, further legitimizing a nascent field. As both professors continue their research and leadership, they envision a continued layering of centering the queer experience and community through the shared value and study of food.
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Gay Men’s Chorus celebrates 45 years at annual gala
‘Sapphire & Sparkle’ Spring Affair held at the Ritz Carlton
The Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington held the annual Spring Affair gala at the Ritz Carlton Washington, D.C. on Saturday. The theme for this year’s fete was “Sapphire & Sparkle.” The chorus celebrated 45 years in D.C. with musical performances, food, entertainment, and an awards ceremony.
Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington Executive Director Justin Fyala and Artistic Director Thea Kano gave welcoming speeches. Opening remarks were delivered by Spring Affair co-chairs Tracy Barlow and Tomeika Bowden. Uproariously funny comedian Murray Hill performed a stand-up set and served as the emcee.
There were performances by Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington groups Potomac Fever, 17th Street Dance, the Rock Creek Singers, Seasons of Love, and the GenOUT Youth Chorus.

Anjali Murthy, a member of the chorus and a graduate of the GenOUT Youth Chorus, addressed the attendees of the gala.
“The LGBTQ+ community isn’t bound by blood ties: we are brought together by shared experience,” Murthy said. “Being Gen Z, I grew up with Ellen [DeGeneres] telling me through the TV screen that it gets better: that one day, it’ll all be okay. The sentiment isn’t wrong, but it’s passive. What I’ve learned from GMCW is that our future is something we practice together. It exists because people like you continue to show up for it, to believe in the possibilities of what we’re still becoming”
The event concluded with the presentation of the annual Harmony Awards. This year’s awardees included local drag artist and activist Tara Hoot, the human rights organization Rainbow Railroad as well as Rocky Mountain Arts Association Executive Director, Dr. Chipper Dean.
(Washington Blade photos and videos by Michael Key)































Equality Prince William Pride was held at the Harris Pavilion in Manassas, Va. on Saturday, May 16.
(Washington Blade photos by Landon Shackelford)















