Last week, the Lo-Down announced the closure. Today the classic diner got its goodbye feature in the Times. They describe a neighborhood in the midst of being wiped out:
"The family jewelry and wholesale shops that once dominated the area are long gone, and more expensive restaurants and bars have moved in. This time, Mr. Vasilopoulos and Mr. Tragaras said, the rent increase was too steep for Cup & Saucer. Mr. Vasilopoulos and Mr. Tragaras have owned the restaurant since 1988, but Cup & Saucer has occupied the space since the early 1940s, Mr. Vasilopoulos said. In March, they learned their $8,200 a month lease would increase by $7,600 per month. Attempts to negotiate with the landlord, 99 Canal Realty, failed, they said."
If the City Council had passed the Small Business Jobs Survival Act, the Cup & Saucer might not be closing today.
It could have been saved.
If you're sick and tired of watching the city die, why don't you send an email to Council Speaker Melissa Mark-Viverito and tell her to pass the thing already? You can send one to the mayor, too. It's easy--we already wrote the email for you, just click and send. You really have no excuse.
I went for my last meal at the Cup & Saucer on Friday. I had a BLT, fries, and a Coke.
The place was packed. More than usual, but the diner was always busy. Once again, don't say it closed because business was slow. Don't say it closed because "tastes have changed." It closed because the landlord nearly doubled the rent. It closed because small businesses cannot afford to pay nearly double the rent. It closed because hyper-gentrification. It closed because greed.
The Cup & Saucer did not close because it wasn't loved.
It was loved.
By the register, there's a page from the New Yorker magazine, an artwork by Maira Kalman. She writes of "The Optimism of Breakfast":
In the Optimism of the Morning, it is Wise to Get Going.
To be Confident, Expansive, Exuberant. If you find
yourself at the Cup and Saucer Coffee Shop--or
any Coffee Shop--with a Jelly Doughnut and a
cup of coffee, staring out the window at
the parade of passersby, you could do worse.
A whole lot
worse.
from the New Yorker
Kalman is right. We can do a whole lot worse--and we will.
Whatever comes after the Cup & Saucer will be worse, because it won't be the Cup & Saucer. It won't be the faded Coca-Cola sign that says LUNCHEONETTE. It won't be the 3-D letters washed by years of weather. It won't be the shapely swivel stools padded in orange-sherbet vinyl. It won't be the doughnut case lit in fluorescent light, or the cup and saucer inlay in the floor.
It won't be co-owner and cook Nick Tragaras singing softly to the music of metal spatula hitting grill.
It will, I promise you, be worse.
I only ate there a couple of times, but I remember it was very good eggs, hashbrowns, toast and sausage. Liked sitting at the counter at the window.
ReplyDeleteI was there at about 12:15 and the gates were already down. No note on them or anything. I guess I won't be able to have homefries from the C&S!
ReplyDeleteToo sad. And you're story made me cry.
ReplyDeleteWell-written article, and the Cup & Saucer's demise is another loss to the community. Pity.
ReplyDeletethere used to be a coffee shop across from Lincoln Center and the waitress behind the counter would be lightening quick in the AM and used the arcane lingo that was once standard for this kind of establishment. even in 1979 I knew this was the end of the era. if only she could have been preserved. or at least filmed or recorded for posterity. "I've said too much, I've said too much"
ReplyDelete