Silverlake Coffee, an oasis in a turbulent world, is closing

I drove out to Silver Lake on Saturday morning, climbed some public stairways for exercise and then adjourned to my favorite coffeehouse for breakfast and my newspapers. It’s a weekend routine of mine.

But as I pushed the door open to enter, a notice on the glass caught my eye.

The shop, Silverlake Coffee, would be closing for good on Sept. 29.

Security camera footage, if it exists, would show my mouth falling open, my eyes growing vacant. What if a camera could have captured my emotional state? It would have shown one foot skidding, as if on a banana peel, as I struggled to right myself.

You think places will be around forever, until suddenly they aren’t.

As I paused inside the entry, two employees in the kitchen, unseen, could be heard bantering about the last days. One joked: “It’s the final season of Silverlake Coffee.”

If I could renew Silverlake Coffee for another season, I would.

The Eastsider blog, it turned out, had broken the news the previous day. Before I left on Saturday, KNX came in to interview customers (including me).

It’s curious, isn’t it, how places of commerce can work their way into your heart as well as your wallet? That’s what this column today is really about. Because you may have your own favorite spot, one whose disappearance would merit a tear, not a shrug.

Here’s how it began for me.

In summer 2020, anxious for something to do, I revived my interest in stair climbing. From my home in Claremont, I began driving a half-hour west to Hollywood, Los Feliz, Echo Park or Silver Lake every weekend morning for solo walks out of Charles Fleming’s book “Secret Stairs.”

One walk began at the intersection of Glendale and Silver Lake boulevards, with the suggestion that you could begin or end the walk at Silverlake Coffee, its neighbor Gingergrass or the Red Lion Tavern.

I ended at Silverlake Coffee, where I ordered an iced almond-milk latte. With indoor seating closed, I happily sat outside on the patio in the summer warmth.

At that point in the pandemic, even outdoor seating was not easy to come by. Starbucks, for example, was only offering drive-thru.

But here was a cafe where I could sit in the open air, enjoy a cold beverage and read my morning newspapers, as if life were normal rather than upside down.

The staff was friendly. Local art lined the walls. The plate-filling chocolate croissants and the breakfast sandwiches, with eggs folded neatly into quarters, were other draws.

Soon, any stair walk in Silver Lake would end at Silverlake Coffee. Later, walks in other neighborhoods, or in Griffith Park, would also end there. It was my anchor, my emotional support coffeehouse. (Is that a thing?)

One early visit, after about two dozen stops over seven months, was memorialized here as I wrote about how I spent Super Bowl Sunday in 2021.

After hiking to Griffith Observatory, I adjourned to this coffeehouse, where for the first time, the owner started making my drink before I ordered it.

As I wrote afterward: “Evidently I have achieved ‘regular’ status at a coffeehouse in America’s second-largest city.”

On my next visit, I introduced myself and handed the owner a copy of the newspaper with that column. He got a kick out of it. And we started greeting each other by name.

It became the first and only business in the city of L.A., population 4 million, where I am known by name. That was another reason for loyalty.

Silverlake Coffee, to be honest, is likely not the best Silver Lake coffeehouse. It does not boast about the exotic home country of its beans. There are no elaborate beverages, no seasonal drink menu. Get your pumpkin spice fix elsewhere.

A commenter on Reddit describes Silverlake Coffee as “a 2nd wave coffee house throwback replete with smoothies, paninis and drip coffee machines.” Another writes: “One of the few surviving coffee shops that feels like time traveling to the mid 2000s. I always thought it would somehow stick around forever.”

Back to Saturday. I placed my order: an egg white, sausage and cheese sandwich on an English muffin and an iced almond-milk latte.

This drink earned me my 10th stamp on a 10-stamp card. My next drink, which may also be my last drink, will be free.

Putting my laptop bag down at a table, I walked over to owner Larry Lim to express my condolences. We had a quiet conversation.

His parents bought the coffeehouse in 2006 and he kind of fell into running it. That meant he was there virtually seven days a week.

Business was strong until 2020. Every year since then, the shop, he told me, has broken even or lost money. Without pandemic relief funds, he said, it would have closed before now.

With fewer people commuting, revenue fell. The seven-month Hollywood writers’ strike affected Silver Lake’s creative community, which hurt business further. Meanwhile, the price of coffee beans and other items has gone up. Mandated wage hikes applied further pressure.

Refreshingly, Lim wasn’t mad and didn’t blame anyone.

“If I were a smarter business person, maybe I could have navigated it,” Lim admitted.

Having made the decision to close, Lim has a sense of relief. Coffee wasn’t his passion. After 18 years, he can start a new chapter, whatever that might be.

Yet Lim feels guilty. Employees will be out of a job. And customers, he said, have been coming up to him “with long faces or tears in their eyes” to share how much the shop means to them, while he seems to be taking it in stride.