Mourning the Loss of Java Train

When my family and I moved to this area more than two years ago, we were especially excited to be in a neighborhood in which you could walk to all sorts of great places. Chief among them was Java Train.

Java Train is the kind of place that should be in every residential, family-oriented neighborhood, but I've never seen in any before or since. It has an indoor play area in the shape of a train, complete with an electric train around the top that (occasionally) runs. It has an outdoor play area with a sandbox and a sort of spaceship structure. It has a long row of gumball machines offering everything from candy to rubber balls. It has a row of around a dozen great ice cream flavors, ready to be scooped out for kids. It had a terrific kids' menu of Italian dunkers, chicken fingers, etc.

And it can cater to the parents' every wish too. It has great coffee confections of many varieties -- everything from turtle mochas to chai. It has a solid menu, including genuinely top-notch pizza. It has some idyllic outdoor seating and a lovely, understated interior. And it even has beer and wine!

I've lived a lot of places and been in thousands of restaurants, and I've never seen any other place that has everything a young family could possibly want, the way that Java Train has. Or rather, "had."

This one-of-a-kind, perfect neighborhood spot will be gone soon. In its place, apparently, will be a generic bar and grill, a Champps knock-off (because where else could you possibly find one of those)? The indoor train has already been replaced by a TV locked to a sports channel (original!), with more devastation to come.

I admit, I don't know the whole story. Maybe there's a greater profit margin in cranking out generic food and beer than there is in being a fantasyland for toddlers. Maybe they've done some extensive research that supports this decision.

From where I stand, though, it doesn't even make business sense. My neighborhood is rapidly changing, into one filled with young families. Two of my neighbors are expecting. Even if Java Train isn't making money hand over fist now, it certainly could be soon.

But I can't really know that for sure. All I know is that this decision destroys the place that my two-year-old daughter and I love to walk to to at least twice a week. It shoots down the future I envisioned in this neighborhood, one in which my daughter and possibly future children would grow to adulthood running over to Java Train for muffins, ice cream, and a lot of fun.

I don't mean to be melodramatic. The neighborhood is hardly ruined. We still can walk to both Como Zoo and the fairgrounds, and Coffee Grounds up the street has buckets of toys, having apparently decided that young families are not undesirable.

But I can't help but feel like something has been robbed from me and my family. And I can't help but hope that Boilerplate Bar and Grill, or whatever it will be called, will fail miserably. Maybe then, someone else will take over and bring back the greatest neighborhood restaurant I've ever seen.