Dear Popkin Tavern-
You’re closing and that means our eight year relationship ends this Saturday. I would be lying if I tried to pretend that I wasn’t sad about it. Don’t get me wrong, there are a bunch of fabulous restaurants in my neighborhood. I love each in its own right, but you – you were my local.
My go to for craft beer at prices that bucked the ever-upward trend and fries with homemade ketchup. The place I knew I could always ask for a taste of that newest peanut butter, dark chocolate, coffee infused, bourbon aged porter before I committed to a whole pint. That place where the bartender was happy to give an opinion about the two book covers I was trying to choose between (thanks, Liz). That place that didn’t blink twice that time we needed to reserve a space for a birthday party on relatively short notice.
That place that felt just a little bit like an extension of my own home.
I moved to the city to be able to walk places; to be able to have coffee shops and gyms and bars and restaurants at my fingertips. I’m confident that I’ll find a new local haunt, just like I’m confident that your staff will find the right next step for each of them. That doesn’t mean it won’t feel strange and a bit sad not to walk through your front door next week.
*To Brian and the staff at Popkin: Thank you for eight great years. All the best to each of you and I hope our paths cross again.