At age 40, Kid Shelleen’s is a touchstone for many Delawareans
By Pam George
In 1984, Ronald Reagan was reelected, the Macintosh computer debuted, and the Soviets boycotted the Olympics in Los Angeles. The first Ghostbusters hit the cinemas, and Red Dawn with Patrick Swayze was the nation’s first PG-13 movie. That year, Kid Shelleen’s Charcoal House & Saloon opened in Wilmington’s Trolley Square.
That’s right. It’s been 40 years since the landmark restaurant debuted in a former rock-and-roll club. During that time, people have come here to mix, mingle, propose, and entertain their children. If they divorce, they often return to a barstool. Restaurants have come and gone — remember Constantinou’s, Scratch Magoo’s and the Del Rose? However, the building at the corner of 14th and Scott remains a cloistered gem between Delaware and Pennsylvania avenues.
Open to Opportunities
Kid Shelleen’s isn’t the first restaurant to occupy the building. In 1965, Martin’s Steak House was “practically a landmark,” according to The Morning News. Businessmen made deals over $1 lunches; dinner was $2.25. While they ate, guests enjoyed the Ibach Banjo Band.
The steers in the building’s iron railings are all that remain of the steakhouse, which became Hoxter’s, a banquet facility hosting jazz concerts, parties, reunions and benefits. In 1982, well-known jazz and blues singer Dakota Staton performed two shows daily for three days.
Hoxter’s pivoted to become a restaurant by day and a rock club “with heart” at night. Acts included E.B. Hawkins, The Maytags and White Lighting. The club closed in September 1983, and Davis Sezna purchased the property.
At that time, Sezna had Columbus Inn, which his father, Wallace “Wally” Sezna, had taken over in 1953. The younger Sezna wanted to build his own culinary empire, and he asked Xavier Teixido to be a partner. They had known each other since childhood. Moreover, Teixido had worked in the kitchen at the Columbus Inn for a year. When Sezna called, Teixido was a manager at the venerable Commander’s Palace in New Orleans. Tired of Commander’s long hours and looking to reconnect with family, Teixido agreed.
The fine-dining expert knew nothing about running a casual eatery, but he did not want Kid Shelleen’s to be another H.A. Winston’s or Bennigan’s. When Sezna said he wanted shrimp Lejon, Teixido wrote down jumbo shrimp cocktail. When Sezna mentioned a hot soup, Teixido jotted black bean with Madeira. It had to be fresh with a refined touch.
The men were different in other respects. When the equipment arrived at Kid’s, the driver asked for a check. Sezna refused to write one, insisting that the company bill him. The driver wouldn’t budge, and Teixido wound up combing through used equipment in a Philadelphia warehouse.
After renovations, the dining room was dressed in maroon and accented with polished wood — the telltale décor of the ’80s. There were cushy booths, an open kitchen and a bar that appealed to the Polo shirt-wearing crowd. Sezna had seen armchair-like seats at a Palm Beach bar, and he added a row to Kid Shelleen’s bar. They became known as the “comfy seats.”
Where Everyone Knows Your Name
The year 1984 was the year of the yuppie, and Trolley Square was their playground. The neighborhood was transitioning from a community of homes to apartments. The demographic appreciated the casual ambiance and attention to detail.
Thanks to Teixido, the house wine was in 750-milliliter bottles. The only other restaurant doing that then was The Green Room, Teixido maintains. He taught the staff to use corkscrews and how to deliver plates and clear them.
“A lot of what I put into my own restaurants comes from my memories from Kid’s,” says Kim Strengari, a bartender in the 1980s who started a Pennsylvania restaurant group in the early 2000s. The feeling is mutual. Teixido was amazed at Strengari’s skills. “She remembered everyone,” he says. “She worked near the door, and you couldn’t walk in without her welcoming you by name.”
Bartenders have always been the restaurant’s beating heart — and face. Mary Alice StClair remembers the bartender who welcomed her to eat at the bar. Back in the ’90s, she’d felt uncomfortable being a single woman on a barstool, but she was new in town and decided to take herself to lunch.
“He then introduced me to all of the lunch regulars, and at that time, there were many,” she says.
The respect goes both ways. When another bartender, 20-year veteran Alan Rutherford was in a serious accident in 2021, the venue raised $15,000 to help pay for his medical expenses.
“It was so heartening to see everyone turn out to support our beloved Alan,” says StClair.
The family feeling is one reason Megan McClelland returned to Kid Shelleen’s. She was the assistant manager from 1994 to 2002 and became a part-time server in 2007. “Xavier and Davis knew what the hospitality culture should be. It was always an easy decision to get a second job there.”
Mix & Mingle
Bartenders and servers aren’t the only familiar faces. Kid Shelleen’s has a bevy of loyal customers. Many are neighbors. Karen Miller and Kathy Trakas, for instance, have trudged through the snow to meet friends at Kid’s.
“It was the only place that stayed open during bad storms,” Trakas explains. “Sometimes you’d get there at 11:30 a.m. and stay through dinner.”
Future co-owner Kelly O’Hanlon also lived in the area. “I frequented it pretty often as I was just 21,” she says.
Frequent guests know all about Tough Guy’s Corner, a section of the bar dedicated to a group of regulars, including Delaware’s birdhouse maker, Thomas Burke.
“That was definitely Cheers,” Teixido says. “They always sat there.”
They weren’t always men. Amy Johnston Colbourn’s claim to fame is that she earned the title Miss Tough Guy Corner in 1999.
Sezna ordered a carved wooden sign to pay tribute to them. Unfortunately, men under the influence began challenging the guys to a fight, saying: “Oh, you guys think you’re so tough, blah, blah,” Teixido recalls. The sign now hangs in a restaurant hallway as a memento.
The place came alive at night, and at one point, a doorman had the power to admit those standing in line and enforce the strict dress code. One night, Teixido walked out to see Gov. Mike Castle’s limousine pulling away. He’d stopped in after a benefit and was wearing a T-shirt, which the doorman forbade.
Teixido, who was accustomed to New Orleans politics, figured the restaurant was screwed. The next day, an inspector of some kind would find a costly issue. However, the governor drove home, changed and returned to the restaurant. “That’s Delaware,” Teixido says.
Castle wasn’t the only mover and shaker to dine at Kid Shelleen’s. Kate LeVan recalls her grandmother’s 90th birthday at Kid’s. “We were eating brunch, and the building was suddenly surrounded by black SUVs,” she recalls.
Joe Biden, then vice president, sat down near the LeVan’s group. His party included his wife, Jill, son, daughter and granddaughter.
“There were four students from Sallies at another table, and they asked him for a picture with him,” she says. “He was so gracious and obliged, talking with them for a few minutes.”
Rubbing elbows with the bigwigs was an everyday occurrence in the late 1980s and early ‘90s — “the heyday of people meeting and getting together,” Teixido says.
Love & Marriage
Some connections had sparks. Although Kid Shelleen’s isn’t known for a romantic ambiance, it’s been the backdrop for many memorable couple moments. For instance, Trakas, a longtime bartender at Pala’s in Little Italy, and husband-to-be Mike had an aha moment at the restaurant bar. He was frequent Pala’s patron and assumed she was married. She thought he was also taken. They cleared the air after running into each other at Kid Shelleen’s.
Patrick Walsh proposed to his wife, Lori, on the dance floor on New Year’s Eve in 2004. Lori had met good friends and fellow alums in 1999 at Kid’s, and they introduced her to Patrick. That chance encounter led to marriage and children.
More recently, Patrick Jones swiped right and met his match at Kid’s for lunch. “I was so excited to meet her in person, I ended up drinking 17 iced teas,” he says. “I couldn’t stop shaking or talking from the nerves and the caffeine. We’re getting married this summer.”
Guests have children who’ve grown up to become regulars. Mary Jane Kealey and her husband became customers in 1993.
“Our two sons were so little, they would tiptoe at the window to see the freight trains go by,” she recalls. “We have celebrated many family milestone celebrations, such as birthdays and graduations… Our son, Sean, worked there during high school as a busboy as well.”
McClellan takes a doubletake when she sees children she’d waited on at brunch sitting at the bar.
The Comeback Kid
Kid Shelleen’s history isn’t without setbacks. In the 1980s and early 1990s, cocaine was the party drug of choice, and the spotlight shone on the restaurant in 1988 when the body of 37-year-old Cheryl “Sherri” Tobin, a manager, was found in the restaurant office. According to the medical examiner and police, cocaine-induced cardiac arrhythmia was the cause of death.
“Unfortunately, it made us the center of cocaine investigations,” Teixido says. “Our phone was tapped. Delaware businesses instructed employees not to eat at Kid’s. Our lunches dropped by half for a year or two years. We were high profile.”
In May 1989, New Castle County police arrested 30 people in the so-called “cocaine clique.” Along with Kid’s, members had gathered at George’s Next Door — later Klecko’s. The arrests did not include any Kid’s employees.
Live music and DJ dance nights took a hit when neighbors complained about the noise. Meanwhile, the restaurant had lost Teixido — the opening chef and manager — in 1993 when he split from Sezna. Teixido retained Harry’s Savoy Grill, which was struggling at the time.
In 2005, Sezna sold Kid Shelleen’s and Klondike Kate’s and 17 investment properties to Delaware Hospitality LLC, led by Alan Burkhard. Those who read the news learned of the sale, but many didn’t care, and the restaurant continued to garner new fans.
“Kid’s was my first grownup bar,” says Jordan Rynier, who first went to the restaurant in 2009. “My college friends and I decided my last semester that we were too cool for college boys and started going there on Thursday nights instead.”
Full Circle
Teixido had not stepped into the restaurant since he’d departed. As with Kid’s, he built a community around Harry’s Savoy Grill by hosting nonprofit events and getting involved with local organizations. By 2010, Harry’s Savoy was a success, and Harry’s Seafood Grill was open on the Wilmington Riverfront.
Teixido looked for a space to open a more casual, recession-proof experience like Kid Shelleen’s. He returned to his old stomping ground to check it out. The regulars watched him from the Tough Guy’s Corner.
“You’re going to buy this place, aren’t you?” one asked as Teixido was leaving. He said no. They didn’t believe him.
O’Hanlon, who had worked her way up the ranks at Harry’s Savoy, was excited about the prospects. “It’s iconic and always busy,” she says. “I could never imagine that someone would want to sell it.”
Teixido arranged a meeting with Burkhard, and each put a number on paper.
“We were close enough,” Teixido says. They made a deal; however, Teixido and partners O’Hanlon and Dave Banks could not enter the restaurant until the sale was final. The staff had no idea the deal had transpired.
It was September 1, 2010, and the new owners entered a restaurant without a computer system. The just-hired employees had to write orders on paper — and it was Burger Day.
“It was like jumping on a running horse,” says O’Hanlon. “But we managed.”
Teixido ditched packaged salsa and guacamole and told the kitchen to make it from scratch. When people complained, Teixido vowed not to tell customers a recipe had changed.
One day, a bar regular told him: “You screwed everything else up, but at least you didn’t eff up the burger.” In reality, the bun, meat blend, toppings and seasoning were all different.
Teixido just smiled and said, “Thank you.” Most people appreciated the fresh difference, even if they weren’t quite sure what had changed.
In truth, it doesn’t matter what Kid Shelleen’s serves, Teixido maintains. “This place will always do business. If you only serve burgers, nachos, and wings but have friendly service and good bartenders, it will still do business. It’s the kind of place you can’t build anymore.”
Or can you?
In 2022, a second Kid Shelleen’s Charcoal House & Saloon opened in Brandywine Hundred. It has the same color scheme and exposed brick, but the spaces are decidedly different. O’Hanlon acknowledges that it’s not as cozy.
“We need to make the new place a little grittier,” Teixido says of the shiny, new construction. “It takes a while to become a community place.”
There’s name recognition, of course, especially among those who moved from the city to the North Wilmington suburbs. But customers might not be as forgiving if the burger isn’t cooked to their liking as they would in Trolley Square. At the latter location, they’re tasting nostalgia along with their food.
Teixido and O’Hanlon are attracting families and, again, supporting the community and area schools. (Banks left the partnership and remade Harry’s Seafood Grill on the Riverfront as Banks’ Seafood Kitchen.)
“We’re getting there — we’re definitely getting there,” Teixido says. “The location is good, and that’s why we’re here.”
Judging by the crowded parking lot, the little Kid may soon catch up to its big brother. And can the partners envision a third Kid Shelleen’s? O’Hanlon doesn’t hesitate.
“I can,” she says firmly.
Pam George has been writing about Delaware’s dining scene for two decades, and in 2023 received a Community Impact Award from the Delaware Restaurant Association. She is also the author of Shipwrecks of the Delaware Coast: Tales of Pirates, Squalls and Treasure, Landmarks & Legacies: Exploring Historic Delaware, and First State Plates: Iconic Delaware Restaurants and Recipes. She lives in Wilmington and Lewes.
Above: Members of the Kid Shelleen’s team beneath the restaurant’s well-known awning. Photo by Justin Hayes.