'The Diner Industry On Long Island Is Dying': Owners Talk Evolving Landscape

LONG ISLAND, NY — "The diner industry on Long Island is dying."

These words were spoken by Dennis Pavlatos, owner of East Bay Diner in Seaford and Infinity Diner in West Babylon.

At one time, diners were as synonymous with Long Island as pizza and bagels. They were the ultimate purveyors of comfort food in the early morning hours after a night of revelry at the bar or a haven for families to grab an inexpensive but delicious meal.

In past decades, numerous diners remained open 24/7 — some owners did not even have a key to their restaurant because there was no need to lock up.

Now, there are but a small handful of diners open all through the night on any day of the week, let alone 24/7. Some diners have curtailed their hours, while others have closed entirely, as owners face challenges like exorbitant rents, increased food options at bars, meal delivery services and the current generation's late-night habits differing from those of their parents'.

Lynbrook Diner, Sunny’s Riverhead Diner & Grill, The Plainview Diner, Baldwin Coach Diner, Golden Coach Diner in Huntington, Lindencrest Diner in Lindenhurst, Lantern Diner in West Hempstead, Hampton Bays Diner, Seven Seas Diner in Great Neck, Park City Diner in New Hyde Park, and Franklin Square Diner are just some diner closures over the past few years. Many of these institutions had been open for nearly half a century — one for 90 years.

Rent And Food Expenses

Peter Tsadilas, owner of Golden Globe Diner in Huntington — formerly the Golden Dolphin — said many diners have closed because of long-term leases that came due tied to "ridiculous rentals." His advice to current and future diner owners: Buy your building.

"If you own the building, you’re not paying rent," Tsadilas told Patch. "Rents are exorbitant right now. Landlords are being greedy. They’re trying to get as much as possible. That’s why some of these diners are closing. It’s not only diners. Everybody’s facing high rent."

Tsadilas himself pays rent on his diner, which he said is "hanging in there."

"But my rent is $22,230, along with a $5,600 increase in taxes for the year," he said. "How well can I be doing? I’m suffering."

Pavlatos, meanwhile, owns the properties for his two diners.

"That’s why I’m still here. If I had to pay rent, I wouldn’t be here, either," he said.

Kevin Denis founded Professor’s Cafe in the 1980s and retired in summer 2024. The building had a capacity of 69 people.

"When I first bought the diner, rent was $1,500 a month," Denis said. "When I left the diner, it was $6,800 a month. Then you have insurance on top of that. Comp insurance. Unemployment insurance. Gas. Water. Health figures. It’s a lot. It’s tough."

Tsadilas said many of his fellow diner owners are now retiring, too. Generally, owners' children, he said, have pursued different career paths rather than choosing to inherit their parents' diners.

Denis said the prices of food and rent, as well as losing "a lot of customers" during the coronavirus pandemic, kept "adding up," which led to his decision to close his eatery. His own children "grew up there," working for him until they went to college, got married and purchased houses.

"I had a lot of good years. Believe me. A lot of good years," Denis said. "...It was a very, very successful business, except toward the end."

Food costs became "crazy" near the end of Denis's time owning his establishment, he said. Denis recalls a time when an egg cost three cents.

"Now today, you crack an egg, and it’s almost a dollar," Denis said. "I wouldn’t go into the food business [today]. I really wouldn’t."

Gus Tsiorvas, owner of the Embassy Diner in Bethpage, said the problem with diners currently is that "everything is up in the air" with prices "so high."

"How much are you going to charge for a burger?" Tsiorvas said. "You can’t charge $25 for a burger. Unfortunately, it’s coming to that."

Todd Reiter, a customer who has watched the diner scene change over the decades, said old diners thrived on complete dinner specials. He watched a half-roast chicken with two sides and a dessert go from $20 to $25 to $30 before many diners axed it from their menus.

While cost of ingredients has forced diner owners to charge more across the menu, customers, who are already paying more for groceries, have limited the amount they spend on meals out of the home.

Denis said customers are financially struggling, just like business owners.

"You can’t keep raising and raising and raising the menu, because when you keep raising and raising and raising the menu, the people stop coming, and stop coming and stop coming," he said.

When Denis first opened Professor's Cafe in the early '80s, he could charge $1.45 for breakfast. When he left, it cost more than $15, he said.

Pavlatos has owned East Bay Diner for 40 years of its 70-year lifespan. The diner industry on Long Island was "much, much different" in the 1980s.

Food products were "much cheaper," making it easier to run a diner, he said. Rents and other utilities cost less, too, he said. Profit margins have lowered significantly since the costs of running a business have gone up, Pavlatos said.

He purchased Infinity Diner approximately three years ago. He says the diner is doing well because nearby diners — the Lindencrest Diner and the Southbay Diner — both shuttered.

"We picked up their business," Pavlatos said. "We’re doing OK enough to pay the bills but nothing particularly very good. Just doing well."

Generational Differences

Diner owners said there are various reasons why the current generation of teenagers and young adults do not frequent diners late at night as often as those of the late 20th century.

Diners are not as popular as they were in the 1970s through 1990s, Tsadilas said.

"They’ve lost their luster. They’ve lost their popularity," he said. "There’s much more competition. And today’s kids are not like we were."

Tsadilas recalls his generation venturing to diners until 3 a.m.

"If you’re anywhere between 45 and 80, the diner was part of your life," he said.

Tsadilas said today's youth stays at home more often. They can have meals delivered through delivery apps, and entertainment options are better — higher-quality television, cell phones, internet.

"They don’t even have to leave the house," he said.

Tsiorvas said the current youth do not go out to clubs as much as their parents did.

"The new generation likes to play video games," he said. "The new generation likes to hang out at people’s houses. They don’t really go to those dancing clubs. Those, back in the day, were very strong. Not anymore. You don’t see those anymore."

More bars also started serving their own food, Tsiorvas said.

"Now, you’re there until 4 in the morning, you can have Buffalo wings," he said. "Their kitchens are staying open later."

Pavlatos said that people in general have learned to eat at home more often following the coronavirus pandemic shutdown.

"After 10 p.m., nobody goes out," he said. "Everybody stays home, they order to-go, they eat home, and nobody wants to go out."

Decline of the 24/7 Diner

Diners have limited their hours as a result of the shift in consumer attitude. Places that used to remain open 24/7 have limited the 24-hour days to weekends, while new diners close before midnight.

Tsiorvas, whose father had owned a diner since 1973, took over Embassy Diner, which used to be a 24/7 diner, in April 2022. The previous owner told Tsiorvas that he wasn't sure if he had keys for the door.

Tsadilas said he heard a similar story from his friend who used to own Majestic Diner in Westbury.

"They hadn’t closed the diner for over 17 years," Tsadilas said. "It was open 24 hours a day, seven days a week. When they decided they had to close for a day, they had no keys ... That’s what it used to be like in the 1980s and 1990s. Now, you’d be hard pressed to find a diner that’s open 24 hours."

New York City lost 13 percent of its more than 500 24/7 restaurants from February 2020 to February 2024, according to Yelp data, the New York Times reported.

Currently, Embassy Diner is open 24 hours on Fridays and Saturdays only, though it still has late hours throughout the rest of the week. Tsiorvas said he believes there is still a calling for 24/7 diners, but the problem is finding people to work the shifts.

"Nobody really wants to work at 3, 4 or 5 in the morning," he said. "Those are tough hours to find people."

Pavlatos said diners are a "very expensive operation" given the long hours they remain open, as well as the large menus.

"Now we have high food costs, high label costs, people stop eating out, and they order to go," he said.

Diner Sentimentality

Kristen Farrelly said diners have been a part of her life since she was young. She would frequent the MaryBill Diner in Merrick — where her mother worked — as a child. That diner closed in 2010.

In her young adult years from 2000 to 2007, she would frequent the Lighthouse Diner in Wantagh — one of the last bastions of the 24/7 diner on Long Island — after a night of drinking at Mulcahy's.

"Diners are a staple, and people are definitely not dining at these establishments as much as they used to," Farrelly said. "I think the younger generation doesn’t go out and party like we used to back in the day. They get their food delivered after they Uber home."

Rich Glanzer said he would frequent diners in the 1990s and early 2000s after a night of drinking or the afternoon following a hockey game.

"Diners were the nightcaps of our youth," said Glanzer, now 53. "You go, you have a great night out in the city, and then you’d be with the boys. ... It was a lot of great memories."

Glanzer said he is sad to see many diners on Long Island closing over the past few years.

"When you get older, part of your youth dies with so many things," he said. "Your heroes dying, things close."

Glanzer said he never thought diners would start dying out.

"The great part about diners is, still to this day, they solve every food argument," he said. "You could literally have anything there. Italian, a burger, breakfast. You can get a chocolate shake. 'I want this, I want that.' 'OK, we’ll go to a diner.' We have so many great diners on Long Island that I was shocked and saddened."

The appeal of diners, Glanzer said, was the "homey feel" that cannot be replicated through delivery services.

"It was just so much fun," Glanzer said. "You go in. The Greek guy who has broken English greets you, sits you down. The middle-aged mother is the waitress. You kind of learn to be a little bit of an adult there. For me, I’m in my late teens, early 20s, and this is the first place that my parents aren’t taking me to. I’m doing it myself. I have to learn how to pay the check. I have to learn how to leave a good tip. It’s kind of a place where you learn a little about life."

Reiter said there are "so many reasons for the demise of the diner." He said some diner owners do not want to adjust to the changing times.

"They still think like the 80s and 90s when business was simpler for them," he said. "They have to stick with the basics and get their identity back. You're either a diner or a restaurant, not both."

Farrelly said going to a restaurant was a "special treat" when she was younger, but going to a diner was "more of a routine," like going to breakfast after church or dinner after a school concert.

"It was a familiar place for friends and families to go out regularly to find relief from cooking without the high costs and fancy menus of a restaurant," she said. "It was comforting knowing who you’ll see and what you’ll get. The same kind of feeling you get when you go to your grandparents’ house. You would have your favorite waiter and they would bring your drinks out to you without having to tell them what you wanted. That sense of familiarity is not what people are prioritizing nowadays with their family."

The New-School Diner

Farrelly noted the increase in diner menu prices that have resulted from rising costs of food and rent.

"Now they are becoming just as expensive as fancy restaurants, so why wouldn’t you opt to go there instead?" she said.

Farrelly said she would rather pay for food she cannot make at home than go to a diner for a grilled cheese sandwich she could easily whip up on her own.

"This wasn’t the case 20 years ago," she said. "Comfort food is out, trendy unconventional meals are in. Diners don’t do trendy. Except for Whiskey Down Diner, which happens to be my favorite restaurant right now. My new regular go-to."

Alyson Kanaras founded Whiskey Down Diner in Farmingdale with her siblings, John and Kristina. The siblings practically grew up at the Olympic Diner in Deer Park, which their father, Peter, founded in 1980.

Alyson said the diner business has "evolved a lot" in the past 40 years. Diner menus used to be large books, she said. Now, smaller menus are in, as well as the types of food found within them.

"People are becoming more health conscious nowadays and aren’t looking to have a thousand frozen items on a menu," she said. "I think that was a big evolvement over the past couple of years."

Whiskey Down Diner opened in 2019. Alyson, 40, said when she and her family were working on the idea, they wanted a place where more members of their generation would feel inclined to go. The Kanarases focused on building a brunch mindset — "not just a diner vibe" — with the cocktails to match, Alyson said.

When designing the menu, Alyson said she put a lot of twists and creativity into it. Basic foods are elevated — "our egg sandwich has prosciutto and pesto instead of just a bacon, egg and cheese" —and the diner introduces seasonal menus with different foods and drinks multiple times a year, Alyson said. And she is always innovating: Whiskey Down offers a monthly special milkshake, the 12 Drinks of Christmas, a seasonal boozy hot chocolate bar, and more.

"I think our generation is so social media driven, and they’re so used to every place having new stuff and seeing new things," Alyson said. "That’s why I like to bring seasonal changes around here."

The food quality is what keeps people coming, however. Farrelly said Whiskey Down Diner is her favorite because it consistently has great quality of food, service, and innovative dishes.

"I think they call themselves a diner because they want to convey the feeling of familiarity and the routine of going to a local neighborhood place, but they are a restaurant in terms of dishes they offer and the quality of food they serve," Farrelly said. "They found the niche of what people are looking for in dining out for today's generation."

Alyson said the keys to Whiskey Down Diner's success stem from the first thing her father told her and her siblings when they signed the lease and began construction.

"He never put a doubt in our heads. He looked at us and said, 'If you work hard, you’re going to be successful.' I always believed in that. I’m happy to come here every day and work, put the work in, continue to grow. The biggest reason for our success is we had him for our inspiration and our leader, and he showed us the way to work hard."

Alyson said she feels Whiskey Down is successful because of its innovative style.

"People are copying us nowadays," she said. "I’m proud to be a leader in this new diner way. We’re six years in. It’s fun. I think the atmosphere here, the way it was designed, the way we set up the bar, makes it what it is."

Keys to Survival

Diner owners agree that a strong passion and work ethic are vital to surviving.

"The number one thing that I tell everybody: In any business or anything that you choose, you have to love what you do," Tsiorvas said. "The second thing is to work hard. I’m here seven days a week, 12, 13, 14 hours a day. That is the reason, in my opinion, the diner is successful. It’s because I’m here. Nobody’s going to love your business as much as you love your business."

Pavlatos said running a diner is a "different animal," and the owner must be there.

"People who come into the diner, they like to see the diner and speak with the owner," he said. "Somebody has to devote themselves to these places. I don’t know if there are any people around like that. Young people, they don’t have the ambition to work like us, like the old-timers."

Tsiorvas's message to diner owners looking to survive the ever-changing landscape is to "keep up with the times." Using delivery services is essential, he said.

Alyson Kanaras said building a strong staff with low turnover is essential, so customers can see the "same faces."

Pavlatos said he plans to keep both of his diners open as long as he can, because he likes to work. Diner owners who survive the string of closures will primarily be those who own their properties, he said.

"They don’t have a lot of bills to pay, a lot of mortgage, a lot of rent," he said.

There will always be a few diners around, Pavlatos said, because the competition around them continues to die off.

"The older people, the older clientele, they all like to go to the diners," he said.

Pavlatos said he believes East Bay Diner and Infinity Diner will survive because of his work ethic.

"I haven’t taken a day off in 30-something years," he said. "I work seven days a week. I don’t know if the young people or the people coming up, if they will be able to do the work that we do here. You have to constantly work seven days."

And then there's love. Diner owners must love what they do and take care of their customers, Tsiorvas said.

"If you take care of somebody, they’re going to take care of you back," he said. "If you support your community, the community’s going to support you back. That’s what I believe in. That’s what we try to do over here. We support everything the community does. I never say 'no' to anybody. I always give them whatever they need, because the community is going to support you."