‘I had to come say goodbye’: The last days of The Last Carrot in Coconut Grove

During the last days of The Last Carrot, everybody wants to say goodbye.

Or rather: They don’t really want to. They wish they didn’t have to but feel they must stop in and order one last smoothie, one last shot of wheatgrass, one last hummus-on-pita. The closing of the family-owned lunch spot that has fed the neighborhood for more than 50 years is yet another step in losing Coconut Grove’s soul to the inevitable onslaught of development, and customers want — no, need — to pay their respects.

Owner Erin Compton, whose father Michael Compton opened vegetarian-and-vegan friendly The Last Carrot in 1975, told the Miami Herald that “only good things will come of this,” with upbeat positivity. She’s looking for a new location in the Grove and hopeful The Last Carrot, located at 3133 Grand Ave., will return to the community that has supported it for so many years.

But just in case, Coconut Grove is showing up in droves this week to bear witness (and grab one last lunch at the counter). The restaurant’s last day of service is Saturday, Feb. 7. Go early if you want to get a seat.

“It’s heartbreaking,” admitted Grove resident Christina Napoliello, who has been coming to the restaurant for 15 years and swears by Grasshopper Juice, pineapple juice with a shot of wheatgrass. “Most of my family has moved to the Grove, and most of them are customers. You come here, you see your friends. I have to try and embrace change because I love the Grove, but. . . “

She trails off wistfully but smiles when Compton hands over the order (the usual: spinach pie with tuna salad, one of each sauce).

Sebastian Acra stopped in to make his farewells but also because he was worried he might be getting a cold and thought he might need some sort of immune-boosting shot (he settled on The Immune Booster with ginger and pepper).

“My throat feels kind of funny, so I figured I might as well come,” he said, adding that he will miss the restaurant’s community vibe. “And they’re closing. I had to come say goodbye.”

Grove resident Miles Black, who was born and raised in the Grove and whose parents met in Peacock Park, said he too would miss the spot.

“There’s no option like it,” he said. “There are canned smoothies everywhere but not real smoothies.”

The affordable and health-conscious menu is the draw, of course, but there’s something even more important that makes The Last Carrot special, he said.

“Look around,” he said, gazing around at the diners crowding the counter, placing orders, nabbing a seat, picking up lunch to-go, laughing and chatting with the people around them. “Everybody in here is happy, casual, relaxed. They’re talking. There’s no piped-in music. It’s just a real, genuine place, like the Grove is a real genuine place. This feels like the last gasp before this idea of Coconut Grove is going to drift away.”

Black isn’t wrong about the friendly vibe. Customers know Compton and her employees and each other. Everyone seems approachable even as they crowd into the tiny restaurant. It’s the sort of place where you can safely ask who owns the nice Land Cruiser in the parking lot and when the owner raises her hand, confess that you parked too close and ask if she would mind moving her car so you can pull out. And she’ll jump up and oblige.

Compton, who says she’s looking forward to taking a little time off when The Last Carrot closes, is encouraging customers to sign a photo book given to her by a friend, kind of the way you’d sign your best friend’s yearbook as high school graduation looms. Patrons can leave their best wishes for the future, and thanks for the memories.

“It was such a smart idea,” she said, flipping through the pages.

Josephine Diamond made sure to sign the book. A Boca Raton resident who used to live in Kendall and still stops by The Last Carrot when she gets a chance, she had an appointment nearby and brought her son Johnathan Wishinsky for his first lunch there. She didn’t know the restaurant was due to close in a couple of days.

“I’m speechless!” she said in horror. “The first time I was here, I was 21. Now I’m 56. This place is phenomenal! I’m so grateful I came here today.”

Carlos Austin-Adams, who was born and raised in the West Grove, is grateful for The Last Carrot, too. He has worked there for the past five years, making sandwiches and blending smoothies — and observing the changes enveloping the Grove.

The closing is bittersweet, he said.

“The Last Carrot is family,” he said. “But I’m optimistic for good changes coming along. I’ve been in different kitchens and worked behind different counters, and Erin has a great foundation here with what her dad did. It’s family-oriented, and I like that.”

Would he come back if a new Last Carrot arises in another part of the Grove? Absolutely.

“I would love to be there,” he said. “I’ll work here till my hands get arthritis.”