Halloween has everyone thinking about ghosts and haunted houses, but not all phantoms hide in graveyards or spooky aisles at CVS. Some live in the memories of places we once knew and loved—restaurants that have closed their doors, leaving behind only a lingering taste of nostalgia. Since I began drawing restaurants in 2017, I’ve captured over fifty eateries across New York and beyond that are now gone. Some I was lucky enough to draw before they served their last meals, while others were created from old photos. I’d love to travel through time to sketch them in person, but for now, I have to settle for preserving their spirits on paper.
This Halloween, let’s take a walk down memory lane and remember some of these lost restaurants. Though they are gone, their impact lives on in the stories they left behind.
Chanterelle was long gone by the time I started drawing, but its reputation preceded it. I never dined there myself, though I heard plenty of stories—mostly from my wife, who had the good fortune to eat there on occasion before we met. Recently, someone asked me to draw Chanterelle to mark their 20th wedding anniversary. They had held their wedding reception there, and the request gave me the perfect excuse to dive into the restaurant’s history.
Although the interior was gone, the facade remained intact thanks to it being in a landmarked building. With the help of old photos, I even added the trees that once stood proudly outside their doors. While I never dined there myself, I hope the drawing captures some of the magic that guests like my wife remember so fondly.
Chez Es Saada is another place I never got to visit—even though I was technically of age to go there, I was never of a tax bracket to afford it! A recent request prompted me to draw it, but finding visual references was a bit of a challenge. There are almost no photos of its original facade online. Fortunately, the building’s exterior has remained mostly unchanged. All it needed were the iconic lanterns that were once at the entrance to bring its charm back to life on paper.
This project was a perfect example of how preserving a restaurant’s spirit through art isn’t just about accuracy—it’s about filling in the gaps with imagination, memory, and a little bit of research. Chez Es Saada might be gone, but I hope my drawing helps keep its light shining for those who remember it.
Some restaurants I discovered only after they were already lost—like Extra Virgin in the West Village. I noticed it had closed when I recently walked past its now-empty storefront while sketching nearby. Extra Virgin holds a special place in my heart because I drew it during a lunch break at my old day job. I remember hopping on the subway, eating my lunch on the train, drawing it, and dashing back to my desk just in time to finish writing grant proposals.
The drawing is a reminder of the chaotic but wonderful days when I was balancing my passion for art with a full-time job. Though Extra Virgin is gone, that memory of sneaking in a sketch during my lunch hour stays with me—and it’s one of the many reasons I love capturing these fleeting moments on paper.
The Noho Star is another restaurant I was fortunate to draw before it closed its doors for good on December 31, 2017. When I visited, the building was covered in scaffolding—hardly the ideal setting for a drawing. But that’s part of what makes capturing these places so special. Sometimes, you have to work with what’s in front of you. I sketched the Noho Star despite the scaffolding, determined to preserve a piece of its legacy.
Even though the restaurant is gone, the drawing reminds me of the hustle and character that defined it—and the community that gathered there night after night.
Preserving Memories Through Hand Drawn Restaurant Prints
These restaurants—Chanterelle, Chez Es Saada, Extra Virgin, and Noho Star—are just a few of the many places I’ve drawn that no longer exist. Some of them live on only in people’s memories, while others remain on familiar street corners. Through my hand-drawn restaurant prints, I aim to capture not just the physical appearance of these places but the emotions and stories tied to them.
Though I can’t travel back in time, each drawing allows me to freeze a moment and bring it back to life on paper. These prints serve as a tribute to the lost restaurants that shaped so many lives, offering a way for people to reconnect with their favorite spots, even after they’re gone.
A Halloween Reflection
Restaurants, just like the people who fill them, leave behind stories that deserve to be remembered. Whether it’s a beloved first date spot, a hidden gem discovered on vacation, or a neighborhood spot that closed its doors for good, these places stay with us long after their final meal has been served.
With each restaurant I draw—whether still open or long gone—I hope to honor its legacy and offer those who cherished it a way to keep its spirit alive. These hand-drawn restaurant prints are my way of saying that, even if we can’t dine there anymore, the memories will always have a place on our walls.
