As restaurants close, owners ‘barely hanging on’ wonder: Where’s the Boise ‘love’?

Art Robinson is grateful for every customer who dines at his Garden City restaurant, Wepa Cafe.

But whenever he reads about a Boise-area eatery closing, his mind wanders. Who’s next? Could it be Wepa? Or another restaurateur he knows?

“At the same time,” Robinson says, “you look at the social media posts, and so many comments are about ‘I love that place,’ ‘So sorry they’re closing,’ ‘What happened?’ ...

“The fact is, if all those people frequented these local businesses, maybe some would still be around.”

Facing a multitude of economic challenges, restaurants fight a daily uphill battle. Gazing at empty chairs and tables, it’s hard for owners not to wish that more diners would put their money where their mouth is — and “support these small local businesses,” Robinson says, “before they become a statistic.

“I’ll say it on the record: I’m digging into my retirement account to keep the place alive, for lack of a better term,” he admits. “I don’t want to come off as whiny or needy. ... This isn’t a Wepa problem. This is an industry problem.”

Months after Robinson’s Puerto Rican restaurant opened at 175 E. 35th St., the place was “killin’ it,” he told the Statesman in 2022. Two years later? “We just have less people coming in.”

Business at Wepa Cafe is down 20% from last year — closer to 25% during the summer, Robinson says. Like other restaurants, Wepa is “barely hanging on,” he says.

Some businesses are sounding a public alarm. In May, Lulu’s Pizza on Apple Street — which had already closed once — posted online that “We need your help!!” The pizzeria was “in danger of closing its doors once again and we need your support!”

By midsummer, it had shuttered permanently.

“I think this town has always been pretty good about supporting local,” says Jasson Parra, owner of Boise sandwich brand Lemon Tree Co. , “but it’s dropped off for whatever reason.”

Many restaurant owners are proud people, he says, so it’s not easy admitting you need more community support. “We all took a gamble on ourselves to open up our own places,” Parra says. “It’s humbling to say, ‘Hey, this is our situation.’ ”

‘It’s really, really tough’

When sales jumped in 2021 after the initial COVID slowdown, the original Lemon Tree Co., 224 N. 10th St., seized the moment. Parra opened two expansion locations in Boise. Now he’ll feel good just finishing 2024 without closing one.

“We’re fortunate,” Parra says. “I’ve talked to some folks, and they’re down, like, 25%, 30%, which — oh my gosh — that is so scary. We’re down 15%, which is still a lot of money.

“It’s really, really tough right now. ... Everyone talks about having to pay more at restaurants. Well, we do, too! Our costs have gone up. We have to pay more in labor. Our rents never go down. They go up every single year. Our margins are really low. I don’t know if people realize this, but for every dollar a restaurant makes, we only make 5 cents ... on the average.”

Higher food and employee costs have driven up menu prices nationwide. But other hurdles are more unique to Idaho. Excessive summer heat and poor air quality from smoke make patio dining less attractive, and many restaurants depend on warm-weather months to boost revenue before the inevitable winter slowdown.

“When I can open up my rooftop and my downstairs patio,” Robinson says, “that doubles my occupancy from roughly 50 seats to 100.”

But those seats need to be filled.

Construction in downtown Boise has hurt restaurants, too. Parra says that business at his Lemon Tree on 10th Street has probably decreased more than at the other two stores.

“Our hope is that once this construction subsides, and people are starting to move into those condos, it’s going to look like busy downtown again,” Parra says, “and people are going to start going out again. But, obviously, it’s a hope and a prayer right now. That doesn’t help in August of 2024.”

‘Struggling’ breweries

Local breweries also are facing difficult times, says Collin Rudeen, founder of community-owned Boise Brewing, 521 W. Broad St. Drinking local craft beer just doesn’t seem to create the same enthusiasm it did a few years ago.

“As an industry, that is where we’re at,” he says. “I think every brewery would say the same thing.”

Blaming economic conditions, Twisted District Brewing Co., 3840 W. Chinden Blvd. in Garden City, closed in May. Other breweries shuttered this year include Edge Brewing Co., 525 N. Steelhead Way in Boise, and Idawild Brewing Co., 5270 W. Chinden Blvd. in Garden City.

Last year, beer sales in the United States fell to their lowest level in nearly a quarter century , according to industry group Beer Marketer’s Insights. Many consumers have switched to alternative beverages or aren’t drinking alcohol at all.

Local breweries “always put on a good face,” Rudeen says. “But none of us say out loud that business is suffering and that sales are down and things are not looking so great financially.

“All the public sees is good times, and nobody knows there are struggles. It would be a shame to see three or four breweries go out of business in the next year because people don’t know there is trouble in our industry. It doesn’t feel like people are buying local like they used to.”

In recent weeks, Rudeen and Boise Brewing’s sales manager conducted an informal survey of bars and restaurants on their sales route. The objective? To determine what percentage of tap handles were dedicated to local beer. The result was 38%, he says.

Does that mean that customer demand for more local beer isn’t there? Or that bar managers might be from out of state and unaccustomed to buying an array of local beers?

At the end of the day, Rudeen wonders, is Georgetown Brewing Co. from Seattle doing better in Idaho than, say, Sockeye Brewing, one of Boise’s oldest breweries?

“I don’t know,” he says.

Whatever the case, Boise Brewing is producing less beer. It made 1,394 barrels of wholesale product during the past year, Rudeen says, after cranking out 1,502 barrels the prior 12 months — a drop of 7.2%.

“Not a crazy decline,” he says, ”but down from a year that already felt slow.”

In 2023, Boise Brewing added a restaurant next to its taproom. Rudeen is “proud of what we’ve done so far,” he says. “But it’s not there yet. We’ve seen really strong growth, but we needed a longer runway to get to where we’re cash-flowing.”

‘Shiny’ objects

Owners have theories about why local support has seemed to wane for some restaurants.

“Is it just because there’s more competition?” Parra asks. “Is it just because people don’t have the money to go out that they used to? People are nervous.”

As often as restaurants close in the Treasure Valley, it feels like another one — or two — always opens to fill the void. Many new restaurants opening are higher-end, Parra says. Maybe Boiseans can’t afford to buy a sandwich at Lemon Tree Co. after spending big bucks checking out the “new bright and shiny objects”?

“I get it,” he adds. “I want to check out some of these cool new places as well.”

To cope with its downturn, Parra has attempted to trim food costs without sacrificing quality. He’s also trying to “see how we can reduce our price where it’s fair for everybody — fair for us, for the consumer. So we’ve been playing with that all year long.”

Wepa’s pivots have included adding Sunday brunch. Robinson also will expand the restaurant’s annual anniversary celebration from a one-day event to three days Sept. 20-22 — a parking-lot party that includes DJ music, a pig roast and more.

The fate of many small restaurants will depend in part on how Boiseans respond, owners say. Instead of posting sad comments on social media when businesses close, maybe more customers will go out and dine — as a preemptive measure.

“Just a little local love,” Robinson says, “and I think a lot of these places, not just me, can thrive. It doesn’t have to be a lot. Just a little bit.”

A friend of Parra’s recently compared it to sending flowers when someone dies. “You never think of sending flowers when they’re alive,” he says. “Kind of the same concept.

“We’re just trying to make it like everybody else. Everybody looks at it and says, ‘Oh my god, you’re a restaurant owner!’ And I’m like, ‘Yeah, but I’m working 80 hours a week, and we don’t have days off, and we’re trying to make ends meet.’ ”