a&e features
Yes, chef!
From military service in Syria to cooking in coastal Delaware, Justin Fritz delivers comfort and connection
Driving down the long stretch of road that connects Rehoboth to Bethany Beach, I’m thinking about the morning ahead of me. I’ve done tough jobs before on subjects I knew nothing about. But when it comes to this assignment – profiling a local chef – I can’t help but worry that I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.
I eat food. I love food. Ironically, I can’t cook.
Sure, I can make a passable meal in a pinch, but when it comes to innate culinary skills, I don’t have the gene. That means I eat out often. Even when the food is good, the experience is rarely inspiring. I have no doubt that the guy I’m about to profile can cook, but for me, food is fuel, not fun. Writing about eating feels like reading about dancing. You can understand the mechanics, but the magic is harder to capture.
Sooner than I expected, I reach my destination. Rising quietly from the dunes, the weathered cedar shingles and wraparound porch of The Addy Sea Inn gives off the kind of understated confidence money can’t buy. Built in 1904, it doesn’t try to impress you. It just does. I pull into a gravel parking space, step out of the car, and take a breath. Already, I sense that I’ve misjudged what this morning will be.
Inside, breakfast service has just wrapped, but the dining room is still humming with energy. Plates clink. Fresh coffee is brewing. After a quick round of introductions with the staff, I’m ushered back to the kitchen, where Executive Chef Justin Fritz is waiting.
The room is modest, only slightly larger than my kitchen at home, anchored by a narrow stainless-steel island that serves as the operational center. Whatever the kitchen lacks in space it makes up for in technology. The appliances are state-of-the-art and the multi-tiered glass oven on the wall looks smarter than I am.
There’s no brigade of line cooks. No shouted orders. No “Hands” or “Yes, chef!” echoing off the walls. There’s just me and him. It’s a one-man show.
His first wedding tasting is less than an hour away, but instead of rushing, Justin offers me the grand tour. Pride radiates from him — not ego, but something quieter. We move through the inn, past guests and staff he greets by name, out onto a porch overlooking the beach and Atlantic, where meticulously planned weddings unfold like carefully choreographed dreams.
“This whole place transforms,” he says, gesturing toward the lawn. “We pitch a 90-foot tent in a yard that can accommodate 150 guests. We set the DJ and the bar up in the back on a floating deck that becomes a dance floor.”
On our way back inside, we stop to see herbs growing in a double row of hanging planters — mint, basil, strawberries trailing down the wall like decorations you can eat. It’s not performative. It’s practical. Everything here has a purpose.
Back in the kitchen, the tempo shifts. There are no printed-out recipes or neatly arranged mise en place. Justin stops talking just long enough to consult the whiteboard hanging on his refrigerator. There are notes – words, not sentences – cueing him on all the things he needs to remember.
When he finally goes into action, it’s intense, but controlled. Justin knows every inch of his kitchen and moves efficiently to gather what he needs to get five different entrees into the oven. I try to be a fly on the wall, but I’m the elephant in the room. I try, and fail, to move out of his way.
After our fifth near-collision, he laughs. “You just stay there,” he says. “I’ll move around you.” And he does.
Justin’s path to The Addy Sea Inn wasn’t linear, and in many ways, that’s what defines him. After culinary school and early professional success, he made a decision that shifted everything: He enlisted in the Army Reserves alongside his younger brother. In an unexpected twist, Justin completed the enlistment process first, while his brother’s path was delayed pending a medical waiver.
Initially, Justin’s role had nothing to do with food. He worked as a computer technician, repairing advanced equipment — a technical, methodical position that stood in stark contrast to the creative environment of a kitchen. Then, as often happens in Justin’s stories, his circumstances changed. A casual conversation with a commanding officer one afternoon led to a sudden reassignment.
“He said, ‘You’re supposed to be at the range. Get in the car — I’ll explain on the way.’” Justin recalls. “Next thing I know, I’m deploying.”
The destination was Syria. And instead of working with electronics, he found himself back in a kitchen — only this time, under conditions that redefined what cooking meant.
“They didn’t want military cooking,” he says. “They wanted home cooking.”
That expectation, simple on the surface, became extraordinarily complex in practice. Ingredients had to be sourced from local markets where quality and safety were inconsistent. Refrigeration was limited. Water couldn’t be trusted. Meat arrived butchered in ways that required improvisation rather than precision.
“One time I ordered lamb,” he says. “It came back as bones. Just bones. I scraped the meat off and turned it into sausage because I couldn’t waste it.”
So, Justin adapted. He baked bread from scratch, created meals that could be eaten days later, and found ways to bring a sense of normalcy into an environment defined by uncertainty. French toast, burritos, pretzels, tiramisu — dishes that, under different circumstances, might have felt routine became something else entirely.
“I think people underestimate what food means,” he says. “It’s not just eating. It’s memory. It’s comfort. It’s safety.”
That last word lingers.
By the time Justin arrived at The Addy Sea Inn, he carried more than just professional experience. He brought discipline, resilience, and a perspective shaped by environments far removed from coastal Delaware. But he also brought uncertainty.
The new role required something different from what he’d done before. Here, he wasn’t executing someone else’s vision — he was responsible for creating one.
“I realized I get to do this,” he says. “I get to build this.”
What he has built is both ambitious and carefully controlled. Under new ownership and with a growing team, The Addy Sea Inn has evolved into a sought-after destination for weddings and events. The scale has increased, but the operation remains intentionally lean, which puts more pressure on Justin to deliver.
A single day might include breakfast service, take-away lunch preparation, afternoon tea, wedding tastings, and a full-scale event execution. Layered on top of that are cooking classes, early-stage digital content, and a catering business Justin has deliberately paused so he can focus on something more cohesive.
“I want to grow the culinary side of this place,” he says. “Not just more events, but better experiences. Classes, tastings — things that bring people into it. I love teaching. I love sharing it.”
It’s a vision rooted less in expansion and more in depth. Not more for the sake of more, but more meaningfully.
When I return a few days later for breakfast service, the experience feels both familiar and entirely new.
The day begins with sunrise. Before anything else, Justin pauses and brings his team outside. It isn’t a long break, and it isn’t framed as anything formal. It’s simply a moment — watching the light shift over the water, occasionally catching sight of dolphins moving just beyond the shoreline.
Then, without ceremony, the work begins.
Eggs crack. Bacon sizzles, potato pancakes bake on the grill. Orders move in and out with steady consistency. There’s no frantic energy, no sense of scrambling to keep up. Instead, there’s a flow — continuous, measured, almost meditative.
“It doesn’t always feel like work,” he says.
Watching him move through the morning, it’s easy to understand why.
Hours later, after the hustle and bustle of the first meal has ended, Justin turns his attention to a larger, albeit more creative task — cupcakes for two themed parties. Already inspired, he lifts a heavy electric mixer onto the counter and pushes a flour-dusted binder in front of me.
“I’ll bake the cupcakes. You make the butter-cream frosting,” he says, flipping to the page with the recipe. “Double it.”
The request sends me into a mild panic, especially since it requires math. But Justin believes I can do it. To my surprise, so do I. The first batch of chocolate cupcakes are already out of the oven before I finish the first bowl of frosting. Since all I have to do is repeat the process, I’m starting to feel relieved and maybe even a little cocky. That’s when it hits me.
“Chef, I made a mistake…I forgot to double the amount of vanilla. I need to do it over.”
“It’s fine,” Justin says casually, swiping a small disposable plastic spoon across the silky surface. “It tastes great. Focus on the next batch.”
The result, two exquisitely decorated cupcakes, are almost too pretty to eat.
“These are yours to take home,” he says as he carefully packs them away in a to-go box.
I start to protest, to tell him he should save the best for himself or the other guests. But I stop myself and pause and savor the moment. This one, I keep.
Chef Justin Fritz resists easy categorization, and that may be part of what makes him so compelling. He is classically trained, but without pretense. His military background suggests rigidity, yet his approach is flexible and intuitive. He carries himself with a quiet confidence, never needing to announce it. Part Jason Bourne, part Willy Wonka. Justin isn’t just cooking food, he’s making magic.
By the time I leave, my understanding of the assignment has shifted. What I expected to be a story about food has become something broader, more nuanced. It’s about care. About connection.
That sense of purpose extends beyond the kitchen. When I ask Justin what’s next, he speaks not just about growth and ambition, but about balance — about building a life that allows space for both. There’s a quiet acknowledgment of Cheyenne, his partner of five years, woven into that answer. Not as a headline, but as something steady and grounding, part of how he measures what comes next.
I arrived thinking I would write about a chef. What I found instead was someone who uses food as a language — a way to communicate, to connect, and to create something that stays with you.
The only way to experience Chef Justin’s cooking is to step inside his world — by checking into The Addy Sea Inn (www.addysea.com) or securing a ticket to one of the inn’s limited public events, including the Spring Soirée and the Toys for Tots Holiday Fundraiser. There’s no standalone restaurant, no reservation to book online. His food exists within the rhythm of the inn itself.
In louder, larger kitchens, “Yes, chef!” is a command — sharp, immediate, unquestioned.
But here, at the edge of the ocean, it lands differently.
Not as an order.
As trust.
And maybe that’s the real story — not the food, not the title, but the quiet, deliberate way Chef Justin Fritz makes people feel something they don’t forget.
a&e features
Jason DePuy on coping with homophobia in ‘Big Brother’ house
First drag queen contestant on CBS show fought to stay positive
One week after Jason DePuy (known as Salina EsTitties on “RuPaul’s Drag Race”) was bullied and eventually evicted from CBS’s “Big Brother” house, the queer drag performer is still emotionally processing his feelings.
During his 24 days in the reality TV competition, DePuy often had a rough time, with fellow cast member Kamuela “Kamu” Kirk making homophobic comments and feeling isolated.
In a conversation with Head of Household Rick Devens, Kirk left viewers upset when he said, “Bro, miss me with the drag stuff. Miss me. I’m still an MMA guy, and I have an image to uphold.”
Former “Big Brother” contestant Frankie Grande called his words ‘homophobic’ and ‘gross.’ Another comment, where Kirk said he wanted to end DePuy’s career, also received strong backlash online.
Now that he is out of the house, DePuy has been shocked and deeply touched by the love from “Big Brother” fans and former contestants. We chatted with DePuy for this Blade exclusive.
“To know that my community was rallying for me outside the house was the most wonderful thing. Seeing how much people were just wanting to shower me with love was incredible. Even my friends, I went to say hi and give them a hug, and they’re like, ‘Uh, uh, come here.’ They had to hold me and let me know America was feeling for me in a way that I had no idea.”
He added: “To see that reality was just overwhelming, and I couldn’t ask for more.”
Known as a messy player in the house, DePuy often had to fight to stay positive and stand up for himself.
“No one was coming to my rescue. In real life, it’s easy to block people, but in the house, I didn’t have that luxury, so I had to find it within myself to learn how to speak up for myself in a way that wasn’t nasty or biting. I didn’t attack anyone personally, which is what I was the most proud of.”
DePuy acknowledged he has had a history of putting his foot in his mouth when it came to certain “Drag Race”moments, being in the public eye, and making a fool of himself. “I’ve learned my lessons; to see how I handled myself in the ‘Big Brother’ house was amazing.”
While DePuy has been sober for 14 and a half years and has a strong spiritual foundation, in the Big Brother house, he often felt like he couldn’t communicate what he was feeling.
“As a queer person, a person of color, a drag queen, I have to be very careful about how I move. I don’t have the luxury or privilege to just act a certain way or say a certain thing. I have to be very careful; I’m representing me. But who I am is a Latino, a person of recovery, a drag queen, a queer person in the community. I know that there’s a lot of pressure that comes with that. I felt it was safer for me to sit there and just breathe than try to do anything crazy.”
He continued: “I couldn’t speak to the personal attack that was happening in the house, because in my mind I was like, ‘no, this is a game, and I have to play it, put that aside.’”
Not only can viewers watch the episodes, but they can also watch the live feeds of what’s happening. Seeing the fans’ social media posts from people who had watched the episodes and the live feeds also contributed to DePuy realizing that his feelings of discomfort were valid.
“To know that I wasn’t delusional in those moments, that others could see what was happening, has been a lot to take in. Fans and friends let me know the comments made went beyond the game…I’m like, ‘Oh, so my instincts were correct.”
One of the most poignant moments on the live feeds occurred when DePuy was crying, alone in his room, and said how he missed his gay community.
“I really missed my friends. I missed my queer community. We’re so colorful. We’re so loud. We’re so vibrant. We speak off the cuff, and we’re very truthful and honest with how we speak, and it’s fun. We have fun lingo.”
DePuy had to censor his expressions in the house. “Because I can say one thing, but it can mean something different to straight people than it does with my queer brothers and sisters. So, there was a sense of code-switching that I had to do. I had to even put aside some of my queerness in a way sometimes to fit in.”
DePuy was thrilled to be the very first drag queen to ever be cast on the show.
“I’m honored to have been chosen. There’s a million drag queens out there, and to know that I was a contender to come in the house and not even be in drag was like a wow for me. I’m over here in Hollywood, running around these streets with a wig and heels just to make a dollar to survive, and I have to rely on drag to do that. And then to be offered this opportunity and be given the privilege to say, ‘hey, you don’t have to put on the wig for you to be valuable here,’ is just insane to me.”
Prior to his shows, DePuy has been hustling for 15 years, flipping burgers and doing drag at night.
“That has been my life these past since I was 17. So it’s been a long journey; the opportunity to do this out of drag is a very big blessing. I’m honored and grateful to be the representation of my community.”
If you missed Jason on “Big Brother: Unlocked,” the episode can be seen on CBS.com. He will be back on the show for the finale.
a&e features
Rainbows in Revolt on a mission to make LGBTQ artists’ voices heard
Rainbows in Revolt on a mission to make LGBTQ artists’ voices heard
Last month’s Pride celebration in D.C. was so fun. Walking around my first Capital Pride with a $15 lemonade I was loving the madness and the color. Artists and small businesses battling banks you’ve never heard of collecting your personal information so you can spin a wheel to snag free merch. Great music blaring, people actually smiling and enjoying themselves, the “Great” American State Fair could never!
The Monument Stage was on Pennsylvania Avenue, directly in front of the National Gallery of Art and I can’t think of a better venue to see live music. How does someone get on the lineup for Pride? How do we accelerate the visibility of the most talented voices in our community to perform in places like this?
There is certainly not a talent gap, but there is a visibility gap. Chappell Roan went from playing for two people in a parking lot to owning the main stage at Coachella in one year. Whether it is shadowbanning or bias in AI, algorithms have been shown to suppress queer artists. In a digital age, how can queer people break through and show the world how talented they are?
Allison and Matt of Rainbows in Revolt are on a mission to make openly LGBTQ+ artists’ voices heard. Their goal is to find “musicians whose queerness is central to their identity as an artist,” and accelerate them to a place where they can actually reach fans.
The only time queer events seem to be in the spotlight is June, but this should be year round, according to Allison and Matt. Rainbows in Revolt wants to act as a “nucleus” for different sub-communities, finding common ground in the universal language of music.
Matt and Allison founded Rainbows as a way to make cheaper, higher quality merchandise for queer artists. While Rainbows has already pledged 20% of their profits to the LGBTQ+ community, with 10% to Whitman-Walker Health and 10% to LGBTQ+ organizations in need, this is just the beginning of the work that they do.
Rainbows “does the dirty work” that artists normally struggle to do on their own with limited resources. Interviews, artist profiles, social promotion, playlist discovery, radio outreach, and merch-funded support. This work is normally expensive, time consuming, and requires lots of different skills. Musicians don’t want to be editing clips to post online. Standup comedians don’t want to make graphics for their tour dates. They want to write more. They want to focus on their craft.
In addition to helping artists find their audience, Rainbows has built other digital tools to help queer people connect, including an interactive Safe Space Map for most major cities. It is hard to know which places are truly safe and supportive just from a simple Google search. Attitudes and actions change, and there should be a simple way for queer people to find other places that align with them. The Safe Spaces Maps are all up to date, and are tagged and filterable. Instead of relying on forums and word of mouth, Rainbows has created a centralized way to find authentic community quickly.
I had a chance to talk with Allison and Matt at Pride where Lily Erin, one of their signature artists, was performing on the Monument stage. Lily Erin is a folk singer who is familiar and forging her own path. Her bittersweet sound echoes through Acadia, and her garb mirrors the New England athletes I grew up with. Gorp Core meets streetwear. A graphic tee, hiking shorts, and creamsicle Jordans.
Her debut single, “Bus Stop,” tells a sad story about unconditional love, and the conditions that still seem to come with it. Graduating into lockdown, Erin needed a new way to connect with herself and others. Lily made “Bus Stop” without an intention to share it, but doing so was a liberation. People have been responding to her honesty around queer-ness, family, and the “ghosts which haunt us” even in the daytime.
Rainbows in Revolt has helped Lily Erin go from bars and backyards to The Monument Stage at Pride. This is a meteoric rise, and a testament to both Erin’s talent and the work of Rainbows to promote her. “A little encouragement goes a long way with early artists,” and by “planting a seed” Rainbows is already seeing their artist garden grow. Community is power, and Erin is a perfect example of how effective simple modern techniques of promotion can be.
A next step for Rainbows is putting on shows themselves. On Oct. 3, Rainbows in Revolt will host an Evening with Ray Boltz at the National City Christian Church. Boltz grew up in the Catholic Church and for many years was the soundtrack to many services, youth camps, and church groups. He was celebrated by millions until he came out in 2008. Allison remembers her community “never playing his music again.”
Rainbows in Revolt is helping him to return to the church, and proving that identity does not need to be exclusive. We live in a complicated world with complicated lines being drawn. Boltz proves that these lines don’t exist, and will be breaking down barriers to bring together communities. To Allison, “a trans woman standing next to a straight white man in church is a powerful teacher.”
The Safe Space maps bridge all types of spaces, and one of the unlikely ones is, perhaps, churches. Matt said that “BYU has only nine safe spaces around their campus and seven of them are churches.” Not all churches are anti-gay, and many times they are the only place for people to find community.
Rainbows in Revolt is just getting started bridging gaps and building community.
a&e features
Summer in the City: Free exhibits, movies, more fill D.C.’s calendar
America 250 celebrations continue
From late-night museum visits and outdoor jazz concerts to free movie screenings and America250 exhibitions, Washington’s summer calendar is packed with events that don’t charge admission. Here’s a look at some of the free activities happening across the District through September and beyond.
Museum exhibitions
The Renwick Gallery is presenting State Fairs: Growing American Craft, an exhibition that looks at unique and unconventional crafts from the 19th century to the present. It will run until Sept. 7, and admission is free.
The Arts and Industries Building, located next to the Smithsonian Castle, is presenting the exhibition Voices and Votes: Exploring Democracy Across America. The exhibition features the development of American independence and what that has meant over time, beginning with the Revolutionary War. Admission to the museum is free, and the exhibition runs until Sept. 7.
The National Gallery of Art presents Dear America, an exhibit featuring more than 100 pieces of work, including letters, photographs, and drawings that depict American landscapes and depictions of freedom. The exhibition will run until Sept. 20.
The National Museum of Women in the Arts is exhibiting Burnished: Pueblo Pottery until Sept. 27. The exhibit features pottery from the Southwest, and while most of the pottery belongs to women artists, a few also reflect those who have advocated for women.
Extending past this summer, the exhibition ¡Puro Ritmo! The Musical Journey of Salsa will be at the National Museum of the American Latino until July 2028. The exhibition shows how Afro-Cuban music has become a staple in the U.S. Admission is free.
The Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Library will feature the exhibition District Vibes / American Pride: How DC Changed American Culture, which will highlight all of the ways D.C. has impacted American life. The exhibit will run until Sept. 27.
At the Folger Shakespeare Library, the exhibit Imagining Shakespeare: Mythmaking and Storytelling in the Regency Era will be on view through Aug. 2. All the portraits on display come from the Boydell Shakespeare Gallery in London.
The United States Botanic Garden will be open until 8 p.m. on Aug. 20 and Sept. 17, as part of America’s State Flowers: An America250 Celebration. The evenings will include live music, mocktails, ice cream, and snacks.
The National Gallery of Art Sculpture Garden will have extended hours, staying open until 8 p.m. Wednesday to Saturday until Sept. 3.
Live performances
On Aug. 7, the postgame Nationals concert series will continue with Jordan Davis performing. To see the concert, guests just need to buy tickets to the Nationals game.
Jazz in the Garden will run each Friday until Aug. 14. The event has free admission, but those interested have to enter a lottery due to the high demand for the event.
From May to October, Capital Harvest Market occurs every Wednesday from 10 a.m.-2 p.m. at the Ronald Reagan Building and International Trade Center. The market features fresh foods, crafts, and recipes for unique dishes. A full list of vendors is available on Capital Harvest’s website.
Live! Concert Series on the Plaza will feature live performances at Woodrow Wilson Plaza until Sept. 25. The performances run Monday to Friday from 12-1 p.m. Admission is free to the performances.
DowntownDC Live! at Anthem Row is running until July 30, with free performances every Thursday from 5:30 p.m. to 9:00 p.m. The final performance will feature HUE and a vintage flea market hosted by Get Flee Marketplace.
Located in Adams Morgan, AdMo Vibe will present live performances every Thursday at 6 p.m. in Kalorama Park. Guests are encouraged to check out Adams Morgan before and after shows, and it is an event for all ages.
Other events
Union Market is hosting drive-in movies on Aug. 8, featuring “Monsters, Inc.”, and Sept. 12, featuring “Wicked.” On Aug. 8, the parking lot will open at 7:30 p.m., with the movie starting at 8:25 p.m. On Sept. 12, the parking lot will open at 6:35 p.m., and the movie will start at 7:30 p.m.
Sunset Cinema at the Wharf will also be available one day a month. On Aug. 12, “10 Things I Hate About You” will premiere, and on Aug. 26, “Project Hail Mary.” No tickets are necessary.
The Library of Congress will also show movies. On Aug. 6, guests are invited to watch “Apollo 13.” The movie will be shown at 8 p.m., with additional live performances beginning at 7 p.m.
For fans of Asian media, the Okaton convention will be at Walter E. Washington Convention Center from July 31-Aug. 2. Festivities will include cosplay contests, skits, live music, and panel discussions.
Washington Spirit’s season also begins in August. The Spirit is Washington’s National Women’s League, with matchups occurring between the San Diego Wave, the North Carolina Courage, the Orlando Pride, and the Bay FC.
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Comings & Goings
Calendar: August 14-20
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Pentagon5 days agoSupreme Court ruled Boy Scouts could exclude James Dale. Now he says that same rule protects LGBTQ scouts from Trump
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Obituary4 days agoBeloved pastor, AIDS activist Rainey Cheeks dies at 74
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Out & About4 days ago
Live music drag cabaret set for Shaw’s Tavern
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District of Columbia4 days ago
Comings & Goings
