In the heyday of the business lunch, men -- and let's be honest, they were all men -- left their offices, newspapers in hand, bound for a dark, crowded dining room, where the lobster stew was rich and the customers often were richer: Locke-Ober.
A tradition lost
Lunch at Boston's Locke-Ober was always more than just a meal - it was an event. Different times and a drooping economy changed that.
By KEITH O'BRIEN, Boston Globe
The downtown Boston eatery, founded in 1875, owned noontime. Lawyers, judges, cardinals and senators filled the main dining room, lounging at the hand-carved mahogany bar and eating thick-cut steaks off fine china emblazoned with crests. To be there -- sipping martinis in the required jacket and tie -- was to be someone. And the decor, preserved to this day, reflected that. The ceilings are high, the lights dim.
Now, those days are gone -- at least for a while:
Locke-Ober is closed for lunch.
"It was a very difficult thing for us, not having lunch at Locke-Ober," said Paul Licari, who along with co-owner Lydia Shire decided to suspend the midday meal. "We're committed to running Locke-Ober the way everyone remembers it."
The problem is, times have changed. The same economic woes that have hit other Boston institutions began hurting Locke-Ober last year, Licari and Shire said. Worried about more economic troubles this year, and about a decline in private party bookings, the ownership duo decided it was best to be prudent and scale back.
The restaurant is still open for dinner.
A small sign advertising "Recession Hours" was posted in a window. As of Jan. 1, the lunch era was suspended.
Maybe, Shire said, they'll begin serving lunch again next month at the bar only. Or maybe, she said, they'll relaunch in the spring. Or definitely by the fall, when business historically picks up.
"The timing, I can't tell you," Shire said. "But it will."
But just reopening will not solve all the problems. Even if the economy rebounds, the fact remains: Lunch -- a time once set aside for back-slapping, cigar-smoking and savoring a fine-cooked meal -- is not what it used to be.
"I've got, what, 60 or 70 partners here. And they go out, get sandwiches and eat at their desks," said Tom Burns, the 87-year-old founding partner of the downtown law firm Burns & Levinson, who used to eat at Locke-Ober once a week. "People just don't have any feel anymore for genteel living and dining. It's a thing of the past."
Not just lunch -- an event
"Lunch was an important event in the lives of lawyers and finance people and insurance folks," said Robert Muldoon Jr., a lawyer who has worked downtown since 1966. "The idea of having a sandwich at your desk, or sent in, was just not the practice."
But well before Licari and Shire took over in 2001, leasing the building and name from longtime owner David Ray, Boston's lunching tradition had begun to change. One factor, said Ray, owner since 1978, was the restaurant's location, nestled down an alley off a narrow side street.
Bigwigs who once set aside time -- and money -- for lunch started doing so less often. Expense accounts disappeared. Companies that had once tolerated, or even encouraged, drinking on the clock decided that sobriety was a better way to go.
"It was a lot of fun while it lasted," said Nate Withington, a senior vice president at Smith Barney and a former part owner of Locke-Ober. But "unfortunately," he added, "the three-martini lunch has gone the way of the straw hat and spats. It's no longer."
And while he curses the "sandwich and a Coke" crowd, in the next moment Withington sheepishly admits that he's become one of them, often dispatching his sales assistant to grab him a sandwich at one of the many chain restaurants near his 40th-floor office.
"Usually, I tell him to surprise me," he said.
"And to be honest, I haven't been surprised yet."
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KEITH O'BRIEN, Boston Globe
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