another bites the dust

our curse on restaurants

I did not like an email starting with “Goodbye” but what could I do? It arrived right around noon yesterday, though I didn’t open it for a few minutes because I was finishing yesterday’s column.

Damn if the bloody curse did not strike again. Why is it that restaurants we like so much seem to close far more often than those in which I have absolutely no interest?

My husband and I laugh about it as if it were a curse but this is serious business to me. You see, for those of you who know me only through Actions, we will reach the 28th anniversary of me becoming a strict vegetarian next weekend. I know this makes it hard. I truly don’t mean to complicate others’ actions as I can eat portions of almost any meal but just don’t eat what is on the average menu. Changing after these many years likely would throw my digestion into upheaval.

But, the restaurants closing thing is broader than my eating preferences. My husband and I simply seem to prefer places that shutter more often than true of most establishments.

I think the first was a terrific dive bar in Arlington called Whitey’s. It was such a throw back to bars I had visited (illegally, of course) before turning 21 in a state where that was the legal drinking age. It had booths with hard wooden benches, served pretty pedestrian burgers, and fries (I think I ate nothing but fries there), and never had plants growing down the brick walls (or any other decoration). Whitey’s had a pool area, maybe a single television (we are not talking sports bar here), and had this older, bearded gentleman we assumed was Whitey as he supped alone. There may not have ever been a Whitey, I suppose, but a colleague at the College actually had her wedding reception there before we knew her; Janet was in the know. She assured us there was a Whitey.

I recall when she conveyed the wretched news to me, with great seriousness, in the spring of 2002: Whitey’s was closing. Wait, I said, but Whitey’s couldn’t close. It had to be an error. She shook her head to say no, they were making it into a wine bar. The irony was too great as my husband said one of Whitey’s great attributes was no plants on the walls but he figured a wine bar would put up plants. When we decamped from Virginia five years ago, the post-Whitey’s iteration had surrendered to a Texas bar-b-cue place. No vegetarian options and no dive bar.

Then the diner my husband and his sister had frequented in Alexandria closed. We are diner people so this one hurt a lot. This was a classic Greek-owned diner with a menu a mile long, consistently the best, most reliable dishes that was a stand-by whenever the inspiration of cooking at home failed. My kids thought it was the lodestone in my neighborhood. It was just that until the owners decided they had had enough so they sold the land to a bank. A bank instead of a diner. Please help us.

It wasn’t just in Northern Virginia, however. We vacationed for a generation in the Berkshires where the music at Tanglewood was glorious and the small towns were a respite from NoVa traffic. One of the places that really appealed to us was the Helsinki, a rather quirky place with a couple of creative vegetarian options and some dishes that took more effort than pulling a piece of chicken out of the fridge, dashing some butter and thyme on it, then serving with mashed potatoes. The chef actually created some fabulous dishes with real pizazz.

We were dressing for dinner after a day on the magnificent screened in porch in about 2009 when I decided to pull up the menu (note to anyone under the age of 40: no, we did not always have everything on line so it was pretty cool that one had this option) to see what the chef had in mind. I could not find a menu. I thought I was nuts so I tried again, and again. And once more. I finally found Helsinki, listed in Hudson, New York, about an hour west. It slowly dawned on me that yes, there had been a Helsinki in Hudson and one in Great Barrington but only the former was still serving. We were so disappointed. How could that fascinating menu not survive in a tourist town like Great Barrington at the height of the season?

About four years later was an even more shocking turn when the ever popular Baba Louie’s pizza in Pittsfield closed. Great Barrington’s Baba Louie, recommended by my husband’s step-sister, was an old store front with about nine tables for which one either was there to queue half an hour before they opened or one was out of luck until probably 10 pm. The Pittsfield location was large, invariably also had a queue, but was making money hand over fist as their local brewery options, excellent salads, and diabolically good pizza (sans cheese, of course) were out of this world.

Except about three years after the Helsinki closed, I pulled up Baba Louie’s website only to find that they too had closed the bigger, profitable location in Pittsfield. WHAT? Why is this happening was what I wanted to scream at the computer. We were staying in a place equidistant between Great Barrington and Pittsfield so it wasn’t a distance thing but it was too late that afternoon to get to GB before the queue so it was a grumpy homemade dinner. We know people get tired of the hectic restauranteur’s life but…

Most of the places we have frequented and mourned over the years are pretty basic eateries but this curse occurs with Fine Dining as well. In particular, we had two magnificent places in New York City: Candle 79 and Blossom. The reason they were so special to use was that my husband has always generously chosen to places with legitimate vegetarian options because he did not want me to have to “just tell them to hold the meat” when we dine out. Both Candle 79 and Blossom had superb chefs offering truly delicious entrées that even satisfied our Upper West Side cousin who cooked amazing food. Both restaurants had seitan dishes that were mouthwatering. They did not put mushrooms in everything as too many places do to cover their inability to think of other options. The dishes which used plants were truly plant-based rather than processed, faux meat dishes.

Lunch at Candle 79 was a highlight of our trips to the City once we discovered it. Their wine list was sophisticated, the restaurant had an elegance to their presentation of food and beverages, and the entire experience was so rewarding. It was like going to a place of quality without the dead cow; everything on the menu was vegetarian. Sure, it was pricey but New York is pricey for a bagel so this was the extravagance that I loved because I felt we were really dining. Sadly, they lost their lease a month before the Pandemic closed down the City in early 2020.

“Did you notice the review of the new vegetarian place in New York’s Chelsea, Cynthia?” Susan, my closest friend at the War College, asked me about 2010. No, I hadn’t. She and Norm were going to New York for a weekend so she thought they would try it, although the review indicated the place was completely vegetarian (sounded good to me but I wasn’t sure they would really enjoy it). Upon their return, Susan told me it was as good as the review indicated so we put it on our list.

Blossom was on both levels of a townhouse on Ninth Avenue and 21st or so on the West Side. When we walked there the first time, I remember being bundled against the cold but aware of transiting a full residential neighborhood before reaching the rather obscure entry. Our reservation put us on the ground floor which was absolutely packed with diners, ranging from kids to seniors. The menu was indeed all plant-based foods with a long list of appetizers (I learned to recognize those generally were sufficient on their own), main courses, and desserts. The wines were top notch, usually organic, and they had some berry drinks for those not seeking alcohol. In other words, it was a full, varied menu rather than the somewhat standard Boca Burger patty or pasta primavera. This place took care with their menu.

We went to each of their locations, Chelsea, the Upper West side after they opened up there, and as recently as a pandemic-era trip near New York University. It became our definite stop for a New York visit along with a diner near the Met. We heard more weird tales at nearby tables and saw first dates than I can count.

I did notice the NYU location was pretty empty on our last visit there in 2022 or 23 but it was an early meal, this was New York, and I wasn’t overly concerned. When we were in Manhattan thirteen months ago, that location was no longer open which seemed a bit surprising in an era of more emphasis on vegetarian options and in the proximity of a major university with a relatively prosperous student population.

The Goodbye note yesterday gave no reason they will close permanently on the 25th of this month. It simply offered heartfelt thanks for all of the meals they served over the years along with a hope the recipient will stop in once more before the curtain drops on Blossom. Since we were there merely nine days ago for a day trip to see an old friend in from the West Coast, I know we are unlikely to get back to this place at which we had such fabulous dining experiences.

Another one bites the dust. Damn.

I am well aware that I choose not to eat the Standard American Diet so I should not be too surprised when places not serving the SAD close, for whatever reason. At this juncture, I can’t imagine going back to eating meat, chicken, fish or dairy. I don’t miss it. I so appreciate those restauranteurs who widen what they offer to include some fascinating pairings of food in some delicious dishes.

As you see, not all of the places which we seem to curse are vegetarian which really indicates we eat at non-chain options where our resources reward those taking risks and investing a hell of a lot of time and energy. I mourn the many places we can no longer frequent but I am so glad we savored them as I love the American dream coming to life in the form of an eating establishment. I deliberate seek to reward people who market something of sheer quality they created out of their wit and their experiences.

Somewhere deep in my soul I harbor the desire to open a tea room, a traditional Scottish tea room, with excellent homemade shortbread and outstanding scones (a non-raisin option will be necessary) along with some quality bubbly for those who seek to savor the experience on a long winter’s afternoon. I know I won’t be doing that but it appeals to me.

We eat out a lot less these days for lots of reasons. I suppose some restaurant we like here in Naptown will close, invoking the curse yet again. But, I am so glad we have had the chance to be on-going customers at these places as we enjoyed each visit so much. Actions create consequences: we reward those experiences we enjoy, hopefully bringing not only financial renumeration to the owners, chefs, and servers, but a sense of satisfaction in what they do. We prioritize what we care about with time and spend our money in exchange for their creations. Too few of our days seem to leave us with satisfaction these days so I want to remember those we have had.

Do you ever have places shutter? Do you have any special places you think you couldn’t do without? I look forward to your comments.

Thank you for taking time to read Actions today or any other day. Thank you for circulating any column if you find it valuable. Thanks especially to the subscribers who offer financial support to this effort.

Harry and I were up early this morning, tracking the sun before the heat began climbing.

Be well and be safe. FIN