Los Angeles has always been my kind of food heaven think endless tacos from street trucks, celeb sightings over avocado toast, and that one hole in the wall pho spot that hits different after a long day. But man, 2023 and 2024? They kicked the crap out of the restaurant game here, with strikes, sky high rents, and ingredients costing an arm and a leg closing doors left and right. I remember grabbing a late night burger at Pacific Dining Car like it was yesterday, but now it’s gone, and it stings like losing an old friend.
These spots weren’t just places to eat; they were where birthdays happened, first dates flopped or flew, and families squeezed in after church. Hollywood’s strikes meant fewer tourists and tips, weather dumped rain on outdoor patios, and costs climbed while customers pinched pennies. It’s heartbreaking scrolling past “permanently closed” signs on spots that defined my weekends. But hey, it’s a reminder to show up for the ones still slinging plates.
As we look back on these losses, it’s not all doom some chefs are pivoting, popping up in new spots, keeping the spirit alive. This list honors the legends and the upstarts that couldn’t hack it, with stories that make you wanna hug your local joint tighter. From 95 year delis to celeb backed vegan burgers, each one’s a chapter in LA’s wild food saga. Let’s raise a glass (or a milkshake) to what was, and fight for what’s next.
1. Pacific Dining Car
Pacific Dining Car was that magical 24 hour steakhouse tucked in a real train car on 6th Street, where you’d stumble in at 3 a.m. after a show, order a burger, and feel like the world’s okay again. Opened in 1938, it served generations of Angelenos with green booths, white tablecloths, and steaks that didn’t judge your midnight cravings. I took my dad there for his birthday once, and we talked till dawn pure nostalgia on a plate. Hollywood types and night owls alike made it home base for celebrations or just surviving the city. But post 2020 shutdowns, it never bounced back, and two fires in 2024 sealed the deal with demolition.
Why It Mattered:
- 24/7 service for insomniacs and shift workers.
- Train car vibe like dining in a time machine.
- Baseball steak brunches that started weekends right.
- Chocolate soufflé that ended nights sweet.
- Welcoming staff who handled chaos with class.
- Generations of memories in every booth.
Losing Pacific felt like erasing a chunk of LA history the kind of place where proposals happened over eggs and you’d run into your high school teacher at 2 a.m. The Santa Monica spot tried, but the original’s fire gutted the soul. Now it’s a parking lot, but the stories linger like that perfect medium rare sear. Folks still swap pics of old menus online, toasting what was. It’s a wake up call: support your locals before they’re ghosts.
2. The Rose Venice
The Rose Venice kicked off in 1979 under Kamal Kapur and Manhar Patel, turning a funky beach spot into Venice’s beating heart with its sunny patio and crowd pleasing Cali fare. By 2015, Jason Neroni and the Sprout Group revamped it into a buzzy all day hang with wood fired pizzas and killer salads that screamed “LA cool.” I grabbed brunch there post surf, watching skaters roll by pure Venice magic. It drew locals for coffee runs and tourists for the scene, blending neighborhood cozy with celeb sightings. But industry squeezes hit hard, and it shuttered December 15, 2024, no fanfare, just a sign and silence.
Venice Vibes Lost:
- Sunny patio for people watching gold.
- Wood fired pizzas with beachy twists.
- All day menu from avo toast to aperitifs.
- Jason Neroni’s fresh, farm driven flair.
- Community hub for artists and surfers.
- 45 years of beachside memories.
The Rose was more than eats it was the soundtrack to Venice’s weird, wonderful soul, where you’d bump into a scriptwriter nursing a mimosa. Closing left a hole in the boardwalk buzz, but Neroni’s cooking lives on elsewhere. Fans flooded IG with throwbacks, proving spots like this stick deeper than a meal. It’s tough, but it pushes us to chase the next wave. LA’s food scene rebuilds, one pop up at a time.
3. Greenblatt’s Deli
Greenblatt’s Deli was a 95 year WeHo legend, that two story stained glass palace slinging pastrami and smoked fish salads since 1926. Dark wood, brass fixtures, and bottle shop vibes made it feel like a secret club for Jews, celebs, and anyone craving matzo ball soup at midnight. Marilyn Monroe and Janis Joplin bellied up there talk about star power. I hit it for Hanukkah latkes, the kind that warm your bones on Sunset Strip chills. But 2021’s sudden shutdown crushed us, amid a wave of deli deaths like Jerry’s and Diamond Bakery.
Deli Icons Faded:
- Pastrami sandwiches stacked to heaven.
- Smoked fish platters for brunch bliss.
- Bottle shop for wine with your knish.
- Stained glass glow under neon signs.
- Celeb sightings over corned beef.
- 95 years of Jewish comfort food.
Shutting Greenblatt’s hit like losing grandma’s kitchen the last night saw crowds lining up for one more bite, tears mixing with mustard. It was a community anchor, gone quiet too soon. Social media mourned with old pics, but the echo’s loud. Places like this remind us delis are lifelines, not luxuries. LA’s got to rally or lose more slices of soul.
4. Off Vine
Off Vine hid in a creaky Hollywood bungalow off Vine since 1989, dishing California comfort that wasn’t always Michelin star fancy but wrapped you in hugs via pot roast and candlelight. For 34 years, it was my go to for low key dates dim lights, mismatched chairs, and servers who remembered your name. The fuzzy warmth came from owner Richard Falzone’s touch, turning meals into memories. Redevelopment bulldozed the parking lot dream in 2023, forcing the farewell. AP vet Linda Deutsch penned its obit, her last byline before passing.
Bungalow Magic Gone:
- Pot roast that tasted like home cooking.
- Candlelit tables for intimate chats.
- Mismatched china adding quirky charm.
- Falzone’s warmth in every greeting.
- 34 years of neighborhood nights.
- Linda Deutsch’s heartfelt send off.
Off Vine wasn’t about perfection it was the spot where you’d spill wine laughing and leave fuller in every way. Closure sparked a local uproar, Deutsch’s piece hitting like a gut punch. It’s the little bungalows that hold LA’s heart. Fans still toast it at pop ups. Losing it hurts, but it fuels the fight for more fuzzy spots.
5. 101 Coffee Shop
101 Coffee Shop nailed that retro diner glow for 20 years in Hollywood, with ’60s booths, swivel stools, and all day breakfast that starred in Swingers and Entourage. Celebs and scripts got written over pancakes here pure Tinseltown fuel. I nursed hangovers with their chili cheese fries, watching the world spin by. Pandemic temp close in 2020 turned permanent, owner Warner Ebbink calling it an era’s end. Social blew up with “our Cheers” tributes from staff and regulars.
Diner Dreams Dimmed:
- Swivel stools for endless people watch.
- Chili cheese fries curing any woe.
- Cameos in flicks like Swingers.
- All day breakfast for odd hours.
- Celeb booths with Hollywood ghosts.
- 20 years of greasy spoon glory.
101 was home for late night writers and early birds alike, where engagements sparked over eggs. Shuttered, it left a stool empty in LA’s diner lore. Ex staff shared stories online, turning grief to gratitude. It’s spots like this that script our lives. Cherish the survivors they’re rarer now.
6. Roscoe’s House of Chicken ’n Waffles on West Pico
Roscoe’s West Pico was 32 years of soul food heaven, where post concert crowds from House of Blues parked on hoods, blasting hip hop while waiting for that Carol C. Special chicken and waffle perfection with Lisa’s lemonade chaser. For Riverside folks, it was the ritual: freeway run for crispy bliss after shows. Black community anchor, it fed families post church too. Closed 2023 for a bigger La Brea spot, Pasadena sibling followed.
Soul Food Staples:
- Carol C. Special’s sweet savory magic.
- Parking lot parties with boomboxes.
- Lisa’s lemonade puckering just right.
- 32 years of post show feasts.
- Black joy in every crispy bite.
- Church run fuel for Sundays.
Roscoe’s Pico was more party than plate, where debates raged over waffles and bonds tightened. Relocating hurt, but the new spot tries. Fans mourned the old energy online. It’s cultural glue like this we can’t lose. Hit the survivors keep the chicken flying.
7. Dive!
Dive! was Spielberg’s 1994 1999 sub adventure in Century City Mall, a yellow faux torpedo sticking out, sirens blaring every 45 minutes with bubbles and lights. Kids like 8 year old me flipped for sub sandwiches in red lit “depths,” pure 90s whimsy next to Planet Hollywood. Jeffrey Katzenberg and Steve Wynn backed the 11,000 sq ft spectacle. Closed after five years, but memories dive deep.
Submerged Fun Faded:
- Sirens and bubbles for dive drama.
- Yellow sub protruding like a dare.
- Sub sandwiches in porthole views.
- 90s kitsch with celeb backing.
- Kid wonder in every “dive.”
- Five years of underwater eats.
Dive! turned lunch into legend my brother and I begged for trips, hearts racing at alarms. Gone quick, but it sparked my theme restaurant obsession. Closures like this show big dreams sink fast. Nostalgia’s the real keeper here.
8. Hart House
Hart House launched 2022 as Kevin Hart’s vegan fast casual chain across LA, slinging house made patties and nuggets to ride the plant wave. Backed by star power, it aimed big healthier burgers for the masses. I tried the spicy “chicken” sandwich, solid swap for the real deal. Four spots buzzed at first, drawing wellness crowds. But September 10, 2024, all shut down amid costs.
Vegan Venture Vanished:
- House patties beating store bought.
- Nuggets fooling even meat lovers.
- Hart’s hype pulling lines.
- Plant power for quick bites.
- Four spots in two years.
- Health halo in fast food.
Hart House promised vegan everywhere, but economics bit hard buzz faded fast. Fans griped online, missing the milkshakes. Celeb chains flop too, lesson learned. It’s a push for better plants elsewhere. Keep rooting for green eats.
9. Poltergeist and Button Mash
Poltergeist hit Echo Park February 2023 as Diego Argoti’s chaos kitchen in Button Mash arcade, twisting Thai Caesar and heart Waldorf salads amid Pac Man beeps. PBS’s Rebel Kitchens premiered it August 2024 national love. I geeked out over curry pasta between games. But both closed, Argoti eyeing smaller gigs.
Chaos Kitchen Closed:
- Thai Caesar reimagined wild.
- Heart Waldorf shocking good.
- Arcade eats with neon glow.
- PBS spotlight shining bright.
- Argoti’s bold boundary push.
- One year wonder in Echo.
Poltergeist was dinner as game night, blending bites and buttons perfectly. Shutdown stung creatives innovation’s pricey. Fans hope for pop ups. It’s the bold ones we miss most. The whole setup felt like a fever dream you didn’t want to wake from, quarters clinking while flavors exploded. Losing both gutted Echo Park’s quirky edge. Argoti’s got fire watch for his next move.
10. Stay Zero Proof
Stay Zero Proof pioneered Chinatown’s first booze free bar in 2023, Summer Phoenix and Stacey Mann keeping Chinese bones in old restaurant bones for NA cocktails that tricked the tongue. Sober curious haven, it boomed with Dry January crowds. I sipped a “mezcal” mock impressive. Closed September 14, 2024, proud of the movement.
Sober Spot Shuttered:
- NA “mezcal” fooling pros.
- Chinatown charm booze free.
- Phoenix Mann’s mindful magic.
- Mocktails elevating evenings.
- Sober scene starter.
- One year trailblaze.
Stay flipped bar culture, proving fun sans spirits. Closure bums the Dry crowd, but sparked copycats. Mocktail menus everywhere now. It’s progress, one sip at a time. Walking in felt like entering a secret society where everyone was in on the joke zero proof, full flavor. The vibe was electric, conversations deeper without the haze. Founders bowed out proud, legacy in every zero ABV pour.
11. Tesse
Tesse debuted June 2018 on Sunset as Raphael Francois, Jordan Ogron, and Bill Chait’s French bistro glow up, dim lights and refined plates drawing WeHo crowds. I split escargot there, fancy yet fun. Six years in, regs and costs closed it.
Bistro Brilliance Blinked:
- Escargot with buttery depth.
- Dim lit Sunset seduction.
- Chait’s high end touch.
- Wine list wowing oenophiles.
- French finesse casual.
- Six years of strip shine.
Tesse was date night gold, but rules crushed the romance. Fans toast the team elsewhere. Fine dining’s fragile dance. The room hummed with whispers and clinking glasses, every bite a little Paris in LA chaos. Shutting it down felt like dimming Sunset’s sparkle. The crew’s talent won’t stay dark long.
12. Atla Venice
Enrique Olvera’s Atla Venice opened June 2023, casual Mexican all day from the Damian star, tacos in sun drawing Westside lines. NYC hit’s Cali twin, vibrant and approachable. Closed September 21, 2024, grateful for Venice love.
Mexican Magic Muted:
- Tacos gleaming in sunlight.
- Olvera’s fresh Mexico touch.
- All day casual elegance.
- Westside community pulse.
- NYC vibe transplanted.
- 15 months of flavor.
Atla brought Mexico’s soul beachside, but market shifted quick. Olvera’s still cooking watch this space. Sun dappled tables, salsa that sang, it was summer year round. Brief but bright, it left us hungry for more. Olvera’s empire rolls on.
13. Crossroads Calabasas
Tal Ronnen’s Crossroads Calabasas vegan Italian popped October 2022, upscale plants for suburb swells after Melrose smash. Gourmet without guilt, it charmed. Closed December 2024 quietly.
Vegan Villa Vanished:
- Plant pastas fooling Italians.
- Ronnen’s ethical elegance.
- Calabasas green glamour.
- Melrose magic expanded.
- Two years of upscale eats.
- Suburb soul satisfied.
Crossroads pushed vegan posh, but suburbs proved tough. Ronnen’s core thrives hope for more. The plates looked sinful, tasted righteous proof plants can party. Quiet close speaks volumes on costs. Ronnen’s vision endures.
14. Magic Johnson’s TGI Friday’s
Magic Johnson’s Ladera Heights TGI Friday’s was decades of Black community joy, family nights over ribs since the Lakers legend bought in. Adjacent Starbucks fell 2018, now this. Chain bankruptcy closed 50+ nationwide 2024.
Community Chain Cut:
- Ribs and laughs for families.
- Magic’s local love letter.
- Gathering spot for generations.
- Chain with soul twist.
- Decades of neighborhood nights.
- Bankruptcy’s broad blow.
Magic’s Friday’s was more home than chain, bonds over blooming onions. Systemic woes hit hard. Mourn, then lift local spots. The energy was pure celebration, Magic’s touch turning chain into family. Bankruptcy’s ripple hurts deep. Community anchors matter most.
