In today’s restaurant industry, closures have become all too common. With rising costs, shifting consumer habits, and chefs stepping away from the lunch-and-dinner grind, even the most beloved spots can suddenly shutter. You’ve seen it before: one day, you’re seated at your favorite corner table, savoring that familiar dish, only to hear the news online a day after—your go-to spot is closing its doors for good. Whether it’s the place you celebrated a milestone or your regular Wednesday night table or just a reliable refuge after a tough day, saying goodbye to a restaurant feels deeply personal. But there’s a way through it, one that follows the emotional roadmap of five rules accepting and saying goodbye to a beloved restaurant.
Rule One: Embrace the Denial, but Plan that Final Visit
You’re staring at the news alert, the note on the website, the farewell Instagram post. And yet, a part of you doesn’t believe it. “Maybe it’s just temporary,” you think. “They’ll reopen somewhere else.” This is when you start scouring the internet, asking friends if they’ve heard anything different, and convincing yourself that you’ll be back in that familiar booth in no time. And while it’s easy to embrace the denial, go ahead and plan that final visit. Even if you're holding out hope that they'll rise again, go enjoy the food while it’s still being served in the place you love. Order your usual, and, just in case, try that thing you’ve been meaning to for years. Remember, even if the restaurant comes back in some form, it will never be exactly the same, but you’ll always treasure going that one last time.
Rule Two: Support The Restaurant, Get Angry at The Industry
Once reality sets in, the frustration bubbles up. It's not fair. You’ve been there through every new menu, it’s a favorite in the culinary scene and it has the reviews / awards to prove it. Vent if you need to, but don’t take it out on the restaurant or the staff. This is the stage where you can start blaming the industry and the shifting winds for taking away another cherished spot. Spots close for so many reasons—sometimes beyond anyone's control. Talk it out with friends who loved the place as much as you did. Sharing the frustration actually brings people together. Plus, that collective anger might just transform into a more positive action: supporting other local joints that need your loyalty.
Rule Three: No Amount of Bargaining Can Bring it Back
Now you’re scheming. “What if I organize a Kickstarter? What if a celebrity swoops in to save them? What if we all promise to eat there five times a week?” This is when your brain starts searching for ways to undo the inevitable. It’s okay to dream, but focus on the realistic. Once a restaurant makes the impossible decision to announce that they are closing, it’s almost always too late to do anything. Channel that energy into meaningful action. Sure, maybe you can’t save this restaurant, but you can show your appreciation. Write a heartfelt note to the staff, leave an extra-large tip, or tell the owners just how much the place has meant to you. That connection? That’s something you can hold onto.
Rule Four: Eat Your Feelings
This is when it really sinks in. The next time you walk by, the lights are off. The chairs are stacked, and the sign is gone. You’re left with a hole—not just in your dining rotation, but in your routine. Your mind starts wandering: where will you go on Friday nights now? Who will make that dish for you? And who will remember your standing order without you having to say a word? Let yourself mourn, but also find joy in the memories. It’s okay to feel sad about losing a place that’s been a part of your life. But as with all losses, the memories will carry you through. Go ahead and reminisce. Share stories with your friends about your best nights there. It might not feel the same, but it keeps the spirit alive.
Rule Five: Accept That You Were There
Eventually, after you’ve cycled through all the emotions, you land here: acceptance. You start to understand that, like all things, restaurants have their time, and you were lucky enough to be part of this one’s journey. Sure, it’s gone now, but you got to experience something special, something worth remembering and something to brag about to people who never made it there for a meal. Celebrate the closure with grace. Take what you loved from that place and carry it forward. Whether it’s incorporating a favorite dish into your home kitchen repertoire or supporting the staff in their next venture, know that you’ll always have a piece of that restaurant with you. It’s a part of your story, your culinary history and there’s beauty in that.
So, here's to the restaurants that have come and gone. They’ve fed us, comforted us, and given us spaces to celebrate life’s moments—both big and small. Saying goodbye may be hard, but knowing they made a lasting impact? That’s something to hold onto forever.
Darin sits down with our good pal all the way from Melbourne, Australia, Ben Shewry, whose new book Uses for my Obsessions: A (Chef’s) Memoir is a fantastic, unique look into his journey through the culinary world. He offers up a lot of personal philosophies, a lot of great stories, and shows how Fugazi helped him learn Thai cooking. We've also included a link to one of the playlists that is included in his book. And then we dip into the archives for a legendary performance from Sinkane, who has some new music out now and whose last album We Belong has been in heavy rotation at our house.
Really good article! The points are well taken especially post Covid when so many restaurants have closed.