Longtime customers gathered to mourn the loss of this cherished institution, which had been a pillar of the community, offering not just meals but a sense of belonging and comfort. For many, the Neptune Diner was more than a place to eat; it was a second home.
Neptune Diner
Thomas Bimbo, a 45-year-old roofing business owner, reflected on the diner’s significance to his family. “We’ve been coming here for three generations,” he said, as he visited with his brother, Peanut Bimbo. “My father’s father brought him here, my father brought me here, and now I bring my children. It’s a landmark. I came here after my graduation and my prom. It’s been a part of our lives.”
Thomas echoed the sentiments of many other patrons who felt the loss deeply. “I feel so sad,” he told the Daily News. “Their French fries with brown gravy are something I always looked forward to. My kids love their pancakes. My father loved their breakfast.” The diner was a place of family traditions, including birthday celebrations with their famous cheesecake.
Over the past few days, Thomas and Peanut had been making the most of the diner’s final days, savoring as much of the menu as possible and bringing food home to preserve their memories. “We’ve been here every day for four days, trying to experience everything we can,” Thomas said. “It’s the best diner, with the best food and service. It was a safe haven where you could come late at night for a snack.”
The Neptune Diner, known for its red-tiled roof and glowing neon sign, will soon be demolished along with a nearby Staples to make way for new apartment buildings. This redevelopment is part of a City Council-approved rezoning plan from 2022, which aims to transform the area along 31st Street and Hoyt Avenue. The new project by MDM Development will include 278 residential units, with 69 designated as affordable housing, along with retail and community facilities.
The end of the diner’s run became inevitable in 2019 when its 35-year lease expired, and owner Peter Katsihtis could only secure a five-year extension with the new property owners.
For many locals, the Neptune Diner was a vital part of their lives. Hugo Salazar reminisced about the diner’s role in his childhood. “I used to come here after my Little League games, and my parents would bring out-of-town friends here. I even brought my dates here,” he said, struggling with the realization of its closing. “It’s a staple of the neighborhood. It breaks my heart. It’s going to be hard for those of us who grew up with this place.”
Anita S, who preferred to remain anonymous, found comfort in the diner’s welcoming atmosphere. “It was a safe space,” she said. “When I was dating, I would bring guys here instead of meeting at home. I knew everyone had my back.”
For Marta-Elene Wisdom, who had been a loyal customer since her children were young, the diner’s closure was a significant emotional blow. “We heard it was closing, and we were so sad,” she said, sharing a final meal with her 23-year-old son. “It brings back a lot of memories.”
Anita also forged a new connection with fellow diner regular Paz as they shared their sadness on the diner’s last day. Paz, whose daughter Siana had passed away, found the diner to be a crucial part of her memories with her daughter. “It was one of our special places to meet,” she said, showing a picture of her daughter. “It’s so, so sad. I can’t even deal with it.”
Peanut Bimbo also reminisced about personal milestones at the diner. “When we got engaged, I took my wife-to-be here for a special dinner. We had cheeseburgers deluxe, disco fries, a milkshake, and celebrated with cheesecake. It’s filled with memories.”
Anita, who gathered 250 signatures on a petition to save the diner, captured the collective sense of loss. “It’s like a death in the family,” she said. “It’s not just us. It’s generations, immigrant families. It’s like you’re taking away the heart of the neighborhood.”
