I currently have a bit of a sad face. It’s nothing really bad, it’s about a restaurant. My favourite restaurant in Oxford, my new home town, closed just under a week ago. It’s not because it’s economically unviable, it’s due to property development that will lead to a greater creep of that great homogoniser, chain supermarkets, into an area which is largely about diverse privately held businesses. It is a continuation of a pernicious 20th century disease, but that particular rant is not for here or now. 

I love local restaurants. They to me are the heart of places I live. The focal point. The connecting hubs and nodes, both spatially and socially, people are the edges. They bring people together, you see people there who may become friends. They are a community of purpose and they convene residential communities well at a time when it’s needed and there are less places that do it. Everyone talks of shopping malls as the new church and shopping the new religion, in my view it’s local restaurants, be it a southern fried chicken joint, a kebab shop or a diner.

When we left East London I consoled myself about the loss of my beloved open plan flat by falling in love with our local Greek restaurant in Crouch End, Arocaria. Wonderfully scruffy and beautifully friendly with excellent food. We past it every day on the way too and from work, said hello to the people who ran it, ate there as often as we could and occasionally got the takeaway Moussaka. We even helped pick up their plants that blew over in a big storm. When we decided to move, I knew it would be the place I’d missed the most. We took Sam for his first meal out there. The restauranteurs knew us and our family; if my parents went in there they’d get the same welcome we did.

I had to spend a year going back and forth to Philadelphia. Every time I went I’d go to my local deli run by an amazing old Polish couple. They served the best Reuben sandwiches and would laugh at the Englishman with the small appetite who’d take half of his sandwich back home with him for later. I went back to Philly recently and was delighted to see that the place was still there, albeit remodelled, but with the same enormous sandwiches. The old couple had retired, someone had taken it on and not done so well with it and one of the old customers had then taken it on and tried to replicate what he remembered, but with some new twists, they did specials on Foursquare and cured their own Pastrami. 

When we moved to Tooting we knew we’d miss Arocaria, but when we were house hunting we discovered an amazing Italian deli. On the other side of the road is a Fish and Chip shop. They’ve been friends at the end of the road where we eventually bought our house. The people in the Fish and Chip shop give Sam a lolly when we go there and the guys in the deli are now our friends. We’ve seen the boys grow up there and walk past there every day on the way to the boys nursery. Sam initially learnt to say Bon Journo and is learning lots of Italian from them, Tom aged one and a half now says Ciao when he sees one of the owners. They are a hub of the local community, the community police officers go and sit and eat lunch there to be part of the area and because the food is great. Working from home days normally involve a wander there and then a bit of pasta coma later because of the great lunches they do. The excellent cappuccinos wake me up in turn. Now we’re moving to Oxford, and I’ll miss the place and most importantly Aldo and Giovvani. 

We’re part way through moving to Oxford, and the day we saw the house we’re moving into we had lunch at the Big Bang. Just 3 short months ago. The whimsy of the menu being contained in an old book is fabulous and the tables being covered in dictionary pages makes a fun game for the eye and a great game with kids. The food is excellent and Max the proprietor is very gregarious and has a great attitude towards the food. He knows where the food comes from, he’s enthusiastic. He is keen on making sure the quality is the best and the producers do right by their livestock. I have always loved sausages, my two boys do too. Sam loves the place and it was hard breaking it to him that it’s going to close. 

These places have been the fulcrum of the areas we live in for me. The individuality of all of these places is the key. They’re run by humans for humans. They understand and clearly love their customers. They may be scruffy, but they’re not bland. They have everything that cookie cutter shops and restaurants from chains don’t have, a soul. I can’t imagine falling in love with or falling in love in a Starbucks or any of the chains. You can’t tell them apart enough for one to really remind you of itself. It’s hard to delight when weighed down with a style guideline, a very tightly controlled budget and a standardised set of fittings and fixtures. The visual elements are the same everywhere, regardless of country or the architecture of the shell they’re in.

I’m sad about the Big Bang closing for many reasons, I’m sad as I love going there and love the ever changing menu. I’m sad as it’s individuality is the perfect foil for the blandness of a consumerist corporate society. I’m sad as Max can’t find another property with the right rates to make it work elsewhere in Oxford. I’m sad for the suppliers and  I’m sad because all we’ll get in the redeveloped buildings will be the Tesco we know is going to be there and probably other chains that can afford the higher rents and can make the economy of scale work for them. The irony of it; an ethical restaurant that cares about producers being replaced by a Tesco whose attitude towards customers and suppliers is the antithesis.

The thing that makes me most sad though is that it was a part of my dreams of our future tied up in our move. I still love the area we’re in, it’s not all dependent on a single restaurant. I just imagined us going there over the years with the two boys as they grow up. Hearing their tales, maybe consoling them over a plate of sausages when things don’t go their way. That’ll still happen, we’ll just have to find another place to be our local for family meals out. Good luck Max. So long, and thanks for all the sausages.