Editor’s note: This story was originally published in 2018 and has been updated.
Nothing gets a true Jerseyan’s tears flowing quicker than reminiscing about a beloved long-gone restaurant. It may have been the place their parents took them every week as a kid. The place that made the best chicken parm or crab cakes or egg sandwiches or whatever. Where the waitresses greeted you by name. You still have a menu or matchbook or postcard from the place, and you’re not giving it up for anything.
More tears flowed recently with the news that the Fireplace in Paramus was closing for good after 65 years in business. “Over the past months, we have had an increasingly difficult time covering the costs of running our restaurant,” read a message on the restaurant’s Instagram account.
Another one bites the dust ...
This is an updated list of one that originally appeared in 2018 and was updated in 2021. Six restaurants have been added to the latter list.
Our ranking of N.J.’s 41 greatest old-school restaurants mined similar nostalgic territory, but unlike that list, the restaurants on this list are all closed. Kaput. Demolished. Replaced by Rite Aids and Wawas.
If you’re the type to cry easily over long-lost loves, cars — and restaurants — you might want to grab a box of Kleenex before reading any further.
Charlie’s Pool Room, Alpha
Charlie’s Pool Room was the most eccentric eatery in New Jersey.
Squeaky hardwood floors, a 1920s cash register, tin ceiling, fluorescent-lit pool table, tiny bathroom and just one item on the menu: hot dogs. If you didn’t count the candy at the front counter. Brothers Joe and John Fencz were your ever-friendly hosts; John did the cooking, Joe did the talking. You came here for the delightfully dodgy atmosphere, and a dog with Grandma Fencz’ spicy “secret” sauce.
Joe Fencz passed away in 2014; Charlie’s Pool Room had closed down the year before because the county required kitchen upgrades. It hasn’t sold a hot dog since. But . . .there are rumors Charlie’s may re-open in some form. Stay tuned.
Medusa Stone Fired Pizza, Asbury Park
Everyone loved Medusa. The small, cozy restaurant turned out great pizza; their fennel sausage pie made our list of New Jersey’s 99 greatest pizzas. “We plan to celebrate our closing every day by serving up dinner with lots of laughter and gratitude for everyone’s support through these six amazing years,” Medusa announced on social media in 2022.
Capt. Starn’s, Atlantic City
“Out of the water into the pan” was the slogan at Capt. Starn’s, one of the nation’s most famous seafood restaurants in its heyday. The waterfront complex included the restaurant, docks, fish market and sea lions in a tank. “Starn’s was one of the city’s last must-see attractions,” according to one account. It closed in 1979.
Hackney’s, Atlantic City
Harry Hackney was known as the Lobster King; a sign above the lobster tanks inside his restaurant read: “Harry Hackney says, Never Eat a Lobster Until It Has Been Purified.” The massive oceanfront restaurant — it could hold up to 3,000 diners — was a far cry from the lunch wagon Hackney once sold clams from. It took up a full block of the Atlantic City Boardwalk along Absecon Inlet, and by one account was the biggest seafood restaurant in the world. The complex included the Miss America co*cktail Lounge, and the menus all had the same message: “This is your menu. You may take it with you.”
Hackney’s was sold to outside owners, who operated the restaurant into the early 1980s, shut it down, then sold it in 1993. The new owners announced an ambitious renovation, but Hackney’s never reopened. It was demolished in the late 1990s.
Hofbrauhaus, Atlantic Highlands
The Hofbrauhaus was the most splendid if not spacious of the state’s German restaurants, with its beer hall-like interior, nonstop musical entertainment and ever-flowing beer. I still remember the kalbshaxen, the jumbo veal shank — a monstrous, marvelous slab of meat that would give Fred Flintstone pause.
The Hofbrauhaus was demolished in 2009 to make way for custom homes.
Clayton’s Log Cabin Restaurant, Barnegat
What is it with New Jersey and log cabin restaurants? Dozens dotted the landscape in the 60s and 70s. “I used to live across the hwy as a kid and went there frequently with my family, who knew the owners (they owned our house),” Kate E. reminisced on yelp.com. “Had the best bacon wrapped scallops, flounder, turtle soup, corn fritters and omg the potato salad and applesauce they gave you. Their German dishes were amazing too. Probably will never find anything close to their food again.”
Clayton’s Log Cabin burned down in the 1990s.
The Short Stop, Bloomfield
It was mixed news when word came down about the Short Stop closing in 2004. One, it wouldn’t be torn down. Two, it would be turned into a ... Dunkin’ Donuts? The gorgeous little 1953 diner — dig the multi-colored chrome stripes — was known for its burgers and “eggs in a skillet.” Eggs came in a pan, not a dish. A Facebook page was launched in 2014 “to build community awareness and funding to resurrect the Short Stop.” Good luck with that.
Elgin Diner, Camden
The Elgin Diner was a gorgeous diner — not all Jersey diners are. It opened in 1958, all bright neon and shining stainless steel. Originally named the Fair-Lynne, it reopened as the Elgin Diner on Mother’s Day, 1961. George Vallianos eventually took over the diner from his dad and uncle, redesigning the menu, renovating the interior.
The diner closed in 2007, reopened in 2010 and closed for good in 2012. It was demolished and replaced by a Dollar Store.
Larison’s Turkey Farm Inn, Chester
In 1945, Will Larison bought what was then the Topping Farm and converted the house into an inn/restaurant. The furnishings would include Tiffany lamps and stuffed animals, including a menacing polar bear on the second floor. The farm closed in 2001, and the restaurant went through different names before closing for good in 2009. Larison’s was known for its epic Thanksgiving Day dinners; at the last one, the restaurant cooked 180 35-pound turkeys, peeled and mashed 1,900 pounds of potatoes and poured 125 gallons of gravy.
Latin Casino, Cherry Hill
There was nothing particularly Latin about the Latin Casino, and it wasn’t a casino, but for a time this sprawling venue was one of the East Coast’s big-time nightclubs. Frank Sinatra, Ray Charles, Nat King Cole and many other stars performed here.
The restaurant/showroom could fit about 2,000 patrons, who dined on surf n turf and entrees from the “Chinese Kitchen.”
There was no cover charge until the mid-70s, so the Casino relied on food and drink for revenue. After a short-lived incarnation as the Emerald City disco, the Latin Casino was demolished in December 1982.
Callahan’s, Fort Lee
Callahan’s once stood at the hot dog crossroads of New Jersey; right across the street was another Jersey hot dog landmark, Hiram’s Roadstand. Artie Castrianni opened his hot dog stand in a gas station owned by the Callahan sisters in 1950. “So big! So good!” was the slogan. There was a storefront in Norwood, but it has since closed. Artie’s grandson, Daniel DeMiglio, operates the Callahan’s food truck.
Tower of Pizza, Green Brook
There were at least two Tower of Pizzas in New Jersey, one on Route 17 in Mahwah, the other on Route 22 in Green Brook. I stopped in the latter several times over the years — who could resist? — but don’t remember if the pizza was any good.
One fan said the kitschy Green Brook restaurant appeared on a postcard in “National Lampoon’s Vacation,” although for some reason it was identified as being in Green Brook, N.Y.
Compton’s Log Cabin, Haddon
Open for 60 years, a town landmark, then torn down for a new Rite Aid. It’s a story repeated around New Jersey in recent years. Edwin Compton was the longtime owner; the building started as a small log cabin, expanding several times over the years. The restaurant’s signature dish: Grandma Compton’s crab cakes.
Clam Broth House, Hoboken
The Clam Broth House was a popular hangout for dockworkers in the early 1900s, but women were not allowed inside until the 1970s. Marlon Brando stopped by when filming “On the Waterfront.” The floor was littered with seafood shells, and clam broth was given away free at the bar. The restaurant closed in 2003.
Helmer’s, Hoboken
Helmer’s, which opened in 1936, was a casual but classy high-ceilinged haunt on Washington Street known for its German dishes and excellent selection of beers, from domestics to the likes of Weihenstephan Weiss and Dortmunder Dab. The steak sandwich — strips of succulent, juicy top round — was a standout; the menu also included wiener schnitzel, jager schnitzel, sauerbraten, broiled sea scallops, smoked pork chops and sirloin steak. The restaurant closed for good on New Year’s Eve, 2014.
Tippy’s Charcoal Haven, Jersey City
The brilliantly neon-lit Tippy’s Charcoal Haven, in the Heights, was Marion Macucici’s favorite place growing up. That means something, especially when your nickname is The Diner Queen. “When my good Catholic mother found out that I was skipping Sunday Mass for breakfast at Tippy’s, she blew a fuse,” Macucici once recalled. “After that, my little hideaway was referred to as ‘Saint Tippy’s Charcoal Altar.’ "
The Chowder Pot, Keyport
The question “Who remembers the Chowder Pot” resulted in a boatload of answers on The History of Keyport NJ Facebook page. “Loved their clam cakes dipped in their New England chowder” one longtime customer replied. “I grew up next door. Loved their fried onion rings,” added another. The restaurant lasted 40 years, from 1955-95.
Peterson’s Sunset Cabin, Lakewood
Another in a long line of cabin-like restaurants in New Jersey, Peterson’s was a “world famous” red-shingled highway haunt. “Open only as long as you love us” was the motto. A menu from the 1960s offered deep sea scallops for $2.50, a chef’s salad for $1 and “coffee by candlelight” for a quarter.
“This was a family style restaurant,” went one of the recollections on lostdestinations.com. “It was famous for its charcoal chicken among other very good dishes. You walked into the bar area and behind was a huge room with row upon row of tables. At the end of the room was a giant open BBQ pit where all the dishes were cooked.”
Big Stash’s, Linden
June 28, 2015. That’s when Big Stash’s served its last plate of pierogi. The “aging building” and “rising cost” of doing business “have conspired to bring the last of the prime rib to Big Stash’s dinner table,” the owners said in their Facebook farewell message. A cash-only Linden favorite for Polish fare — and birch beer on tap — Big Stash’s closed its doors after 47 years in business. Regulars raved about the kielbasa and kraut, pastrami sandwich, pierogi and giant portion sizes.
Harry’s Corner, Little Ferry
Harry’s Corner, on Route 46, simply had the greatest egg sandwiches of all time. That’s what longtime fans said, anyway.
“Goose egg and chili was my go-to at Harry’s Corner at 2 a.m.,” read one testimonial on Twitter. “That was my hangover remedy.”
The menu was basically three things: egg sandwich, sausage sandwich and sausage & egg sandwich.
Don’s Drive-In, Livingston
Mention of Don’s Drive-In brings a nostalgic rush to those who grew up in Essex County in the 1960s and 1970s. “Great pizza burgers, onion rings and coconut cream pie,” Gene Kelsey said on Twitter. “The burgers, the bakery, the sauteed onions and pickle bar,” Mark Davis chimed in.
Don Roth opened Don’s in 1954, when most of Livingston was downright rural, according to one account. Roth would often greet customers, and was known for his sense of humor. The restaurant was sold in the early 1990s, and Roth passed away in 2009.
The Inkwell, Long Branch
The Inkwell, where locals gathered for late night coffee, food and open mic events since its opening in the 1960s, closed in May 2022. At one time, Bruce Springsteen frequented the coffeehouse; it was near the bungalow he was living in when he wrote “Born to Run,” and filmmaker Kevin Smith was often a customer there as well.
Olga’s Diner, Marlton
There’s little argument that Olga’s Diner was South Jersey’s best-known diner for decades. In 1946, Olga and Tom Stavros opened a luncheonette called Mom and Pop’s in Camden; in 1951 they moved across the street to a bigger space, which became Olga’s Diner. In 1960, the diner opened at the Marlton Circle, the junction of Routes 70 and 73. A waitress would leave a pot of coffee at the counter or your table — who does that anymore? The diner made a cake for President Bush in 1989. In 2008, though, the diner was shut down four times for not paying bills for taxes, and closed for good towards the end of the year. The diner was torn down, and was eventually replaced with a new Olga’s nearby. But you can never upstage the original.
Settlers Inn, Medford Lakes
It was no surprise to find the log cabin-like Settlers Inn in Medford Lakes; the town claims the largest number of log cabins in the world. The town started as a resort with all log-cabin homes; no other type of dwellings were allowed to be built in the 30s and 40s. The Inn began as the Log Cabin Hotel, and was later known as The Lodge and finally Settlers Inn. “As a guy who grew up in Medford, it’s still weird to me that Settler’s Inn isn’t there anymore,” @johnny_2hats reminisced on Twitter. “It was THE landmark and the kind of place that will never exist again.”
Torelli’s Burgers, Millville
Jim’s Lunch is Millville’s claim to culinary fame, but ask any longtime Holly City resident what eatery they miss most, and chances are they’ll answer Torelli’s. Their burgers were legendary, but you had to get there early because when Joe Torelli ran out of the 300 burgers he allotted for each day, usually around 11 a.m., he closed up shop. The space later became Billy D’s and Bruni’s Breakfast & Burgers, but neither matched Torelli’s in Millville memories.
Iberia, Newark
Iberia was Ironbound legend. It started as a luncheonette and tavern in 1926 and over the years transformed into a sprawling showcase for Spanish and Portuguese food. The restaurant closed for good last year.
Je’s, Newark
“42 years of chicken gizzards with gravy, smothered turkey wings with okra and collard greens” was how Star-Ledger columnist Barry Carter described Je’s when owner Harry Sutton told him Je’s was closing for good in 2013.
For years, Je’s, in downtown Newark, was the center of the New Jersey soul food universe. The cafeteria/luncheonette served the likes of Patti LaBelle and Shaquille O’Neal. “What we do here is strictly Southern,” Diane Sutton, Harry’s late wife, once said. “It doesn’t belong to one ethnic group. It’s Southern, it’s tradition, it’s America.”
Syd’s, Newark/Union
The Syd’s dog. Any Jersey hot dog fanatic will swoon upon hearing those words; the all-beef Best’s dog, boiled then grilled, was the draw at legendary Newark hot stand Syd’s. There was a Syd’s location at the Millburn Mall, but it closed in 2010. It was a bustling little luncheonette where you could get breakfast and lunch, but those hot dogs were the draw.
Weequahic Diner, Newark
The Weequahic Diner opened in 1938, an immediate hit among Newark’s growing Jewish population and diner fans in general. The waitresses were mostly blonde and wore their hair in an upsweep, a regular recalled on oldnewark.com, and the diner’s cheesecake and “flaky-crusted cream pies” were signature items.
Greasy Tony’s, New Brunswick
“No charge for extra grease” read the sign. The menu included the Trash Can, which was pretty much every meat, cheese and topping tossed into one astounding mess of a sandwich. Greasy Tony’s opened in the mid-1960s at the corner of Somerset Street and Easton Avenue, and became the late night go-to for legions of ravenous and occasionally sober Rutgers students. There were Greasy Tony’s locations in Tempe and Tucson, Ariz., but they have since closed down, and founder Tony Giorgianni passed away in 2008.
Rutgers Grease Trucks, New Brunswick
Ah, the Grease Trucks. Subject of late-night longing for generations of Rutgers students. There were usually a half dozen parked in a lot at the corner of College Avenue and Hamilton Street, and they offered nearly identical menus — the same sandwiches, the same chips, same soft drinks. The sandwiches were named after the students who asked the owners to make them in the first place. My take on the grease trucks: the food tasted better the longer you stayed in the bars beforehand.
The trucks were forced to vacate the lot in 2012, and the last of the trucks to stay on the College Avenue campus, RU Hungry, did not have its license renewed for 2017, although there is a storefront on Hamilton Avenue.
Zaberer’s, North Wildwood
You could get lost inside Zaberer’s — the four dining rooms could accommodate 1,000 people. There were four lounges, even two playrooms for the kids. Ed Zaberer — the Host of the Jersey Coast would soon become his nickname — opened it in 1955.\
“It featured hundreds of antique Tiffany lamps, stained glass portraits, paintings and many, many other neat features, all housed in a unique labyrinth of separate, themed rooms,” an admirer said on the Doo Wop Preservation League website.
Zaberer would eventually sell the business and retire. Under a new owner, the property went into foreclosure. It would later be destroyed by a fire.
Campbell’s Seafood Kitchen, Ocean City
When Patch asked readers what Ocean City businesses they missed the most, Campbell’s Seafood Kitchen topped the list. You could pick up fried shrimp, steamed clams, fried scallops, soft shell crabs and the popular Baked Crab Imperial, but Campbell’s was just as well known for its fried chicken.
“I remember my parents taking me there as a kid in the late 60′s, early 70′s and introduced me to the fried clams,” Daniel Musselman said on a Facebook page dedicated to memories of Campbell’s. “To this day I’ve never tasted any better clams. It must have been the secret ingredients of the batter!”
Voltaco’s, Ocean City
The blue-awninged Voltaco’s - takeout only since its beginning in 1954 - was adored by locals and visitors for its honest, homemade Italian food. But all good things must come to an end. Voltaco’s closed for good in 2022. “In a nutshell, I’m ready for a change,” explained owner Jeff Taccarino.
Wards Pastry, Ocean City
Wards Pastry was in business a mere 98 years before closing in 2022; the owners cited retirement plans and rising costs. It was known for doughnuts, pastries, cookies and cakes, but its bggest seller was scrapple pie.
Chan’s Waikiki, Paramus
New Jersey boasts a colorful history of kitsch-crazed Polynesian and Chinese restaurants (Lee’s Hawaiian Islander, Chan’s Dragon Inn, Lun Wah, etc.). Chan’s Waikiki may have been the most outrageous of all. There was a fountain and fish pool, masks on the wall, and beef chow mein, fried rice, chop suey and other dishes on the menu.
“(It was) in the great tradition of over the top Polynesian restaurants,” one fan recalled on Twitter. “Flaming Pupu platters, silly drinks loaded with alcohol and waiters that never carded you.”
The Annex, Princeton
The Annex, on Nassau Street in Princeton, was just as much an icon in town as Hoagie Haven or Conte’s, both still open. The subterranean restaurant, favored by generations of Princeton students and teachers, opened in the early 1930s; the name came from an eating club on campus. The black and orange decor and football team photos left no doubt what school it was being true to. The beloved restaurant closed in 2006.
Mr. Bee’s, Raritan Borough
Home of the Beeburger! No, they didn’t put bees in the burgers, but bees decorated restaurant buttons, t-shirts and menus, and fake bees were arrayed underneath the glass-topped tables. There was a guy in a bee outfit waving at motorists spinning around the Somerville Circle. “I used to work at that Mr. Bee’s when I was in high school back in 1968 during the summer!” someone recalled on Chowhound. “It was my first real job! Sorry to hear that it no longer exists. Who can forgot the swarm of fries or the nectar milk shakes!
Robert E. Lee Inn, Sayreville
Situated picturesquely on Cheesequake Creek where it emptied into Raritan Bay, the Robert E. Lee Inn started in 1926 as Cady’s House of Sea Food, “one of the most modern and best located restaurants on the Jersey Coast,” according to a story in a local newspaper.
The Robert E. Lee was named after the property’s original owner, Robert E. Lee Morgan, who bought it in 1904. An early 1970s menu offered homemade lasagne for $5.50, fried shrimp for $6.95, and t-bone steak for $8.75.
The building burned down in 1986.
Busch’s Seafood Restaurant, Sea Isle City
At Busch’s, you started with the famous she-crab soup, then worked your way down the menu.
One of the Shore’s seafood legends, Busch’s opened in 1882, and the 450-seat restaurant took up an entire city block. Only three people ever made the she-crab soup, and “two of them are dead,” owner Al Schettig said in 2014.
“Please come back. Even in limited take out form. Holy moly I miss the soup,” a patron begged on the restaurant’s Facebook page in 2014, when the owners announced plans to scale back the operation, with takeout only, plus a bar and packaged goods store.
Busch’s was sold later that year.
Red Lion Diner, Southampton
It always pains me to see a diner closing, especially in the Diner Capital of the World. The Red Lion Diner closed last September. The new owners announced they would replace the diner with a Wawa. I love my Wawa, but geez.
Gruning’s, South Orange
In the 1940s and 50s, Gruning’s may well have been North Jersey’s most popular ice cream chain. Bill Gruning opened the first one, in South Orange, in 1910; stores would later open in Montclair, Newark, Caldwell, Plainfield and Millburn. The brand was sold in 1983.
Jorgensen’s Inn, Stockholm
A “large rambling country restaurant that served bounteous American fare in six antique-filled dining rooms.” That’s as good a description as any of Jorgensen’s Inn on Route 23 in Stockholm. It started modestly as a hot dog stand — Lewis Mountainside Inn — in the 1920s. Richard Jorgensen took it over in the late 60s and remodeled the building. When The New York Times reviewed Jorgensen’s in 1973, complete dinners ranged from $5.75 to $8.50. “Great steaks and seafood,” one regular said on Twitter. “As a kid, we went there weekly.”
De Lorenzo’s Tomato Pies, Trenton
Ancient cash register. No credit cards, no menu. And no bathrooms, either. De Lorenzo’s, in Trenton’s Chambersburg section, served up old-school and great pizza in equal portions. But in January 2012, De Lo’s closed for good. Tearful customers hugged owners Eileen and Gary Amico. No matter that you could get the same superb pizza at the Robbinsville De Lo’s, run by their son. Something special had been lost.
Claremont Diner, Verona
How good was the cheesecake at the Claremont Diner? It was “the most famous dessert in New Jersey,” according to one account, made with a hearty helping of cream cheese. The diner was also known for its salad — “sweet and sour and crunchy and addictive and healthy,” as one former patron put it. Leo and Morris Bauman, owners of the Weequahic Diner in Newark, would become owners of the Claremont Diner.
Circus Drive-In, Wall
The Circus Drive-in was the state’s most iconic drive-in restaurant. Distinguished by its magnificent smiling-clown neon sign, the Shore landmark opened in 1954. It was especially known for its soft-shell crabs; the restaurant went through about 800 a day in season. Those soft-shell crabs made my list of 50 Jersey Foods You Must Try Before You Die. The menu was, naturally, circus-themed, with such dishes as the Bareback Betsy, the Wild Animal Special and the Daredevil. The property was sold, and the gloriously retro restaurant was demolished in 2018.
Schwaebische Alb, Warren
New Jersey has a rich history of German restaurants, but Schwaebische Alb was in a class of its own. It had to do with the country-like setting and spacious grounds, the extensive menu, and the lively Oktoberfest celebrations every year.
“I always had the most fun of my life at the Schwaebische Alb,” a regular fondly recalled on activediner.com.
Old Barn Milk Bar, Wayne
“The best ice cream cone in New Jersey” goes a typical comment on the Facebook page dedicated to memories of the Old Barn Milk Bar. The building dated to 1790; the ice cream stand opened in 1930. Patrons would sit on their cars or break out lawn chairs to enjoy their ice cream. But in 2002, crippled by the economy, it shut down for good. “I just got tired of doing it,” the co-owner told The New York Times.
The Anthony Wayne, Wayne
When I asked for recommendations of long-gone legendary restaurants on Twitter, maybe no spot evoked the nostalgic pull The Anthony Wayne did.
“I really, really miss The Anthony Wayne’s burgers. Always a treat to go there,” said one longtime fan.
“They seared their thin patties on what fry cooks would call a ‘salamander,’ a brutally hot grill that finished burgers in minutes, then they slapped them on gummy white hamburger buns,” Thomas Pluck recalled in his Ode to the Vanishing Char-Broiler. “You could get American or cheddar, but the hot burger relish was what made them memorable to me. They served orange whips and the usual deep-fryer fare, but the burgers with their crisp, carcinogenic broiled crust were the star.”
Pals Cabin, West Orange
Longtime patrons of Pals Cabin were shocked to learn in 2013 that the legendary restaurant would be torn down for a CVS, but the writing had been on the wall of the wooden-beamed restaurant for some time. Expenses had escalated to unmanageable levels — $20,000 a month for utilities, $200,000 a year in property taxes.
Pals indeed was a cabin when it opened in 1932; owners Marty Horn and Roy Sale sold hot dogs for a dime out of their tiny clapboard-and-tin cabin. It would grow into a sprawling, chalet-like building; the cream of mushroom soup was legendary. Pals helped launch Liberace’s career in 1937; the then-18-year-old performer played here for six months, earning $40 a week.
Luna Bell, Woodbridge
New Jersey’s strangest-looking diner. That’s how I described the Luna Bell in my book, “Jersey Diners.” The roof rose and fell like a bell curve. The squat chimney curved gnomishly to the right, like something out of a fairy tale. It was New Jersey’s only medieval-looking diner; you half expected someone to toss burning oil from the parapet, or see knights on horseback charging across Route 1 to rescue the fair maiden imprisoned in the tower. How did the diner gets its name? “I don’t know,” the owner, Manny Mavrorasakis once told me. “Is it good?”
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Peter Genovese may be reached at pgenovese@njadvancemedia.com. On Twitter, @petegenovese. On Instagram, @peteknowsjersey and @themunchmobile.
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