Say Cheese says goodbye to Silver Lake after 53 years
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- Say Cheese, a Black-owned shop in Silver Lake, will close after 53 years in business, due to an estimated 300% increase in rent.
- Owner Glenn Harrell, who has lived in the neighborhood for most of his life, worked at the shop for 26 years.
No one really knows exactly what they want when they walk into a cheese shop. But this never deterred visitors from Say Cheese, a gourmet shop in Silver Lake where customers have come to expect high-quality samples of cheeses like Vacherin Fribourgeois and Roquefort Papillon from the hands of charming owner Glenn Harrell.
The days of stumbling into the cozy neighborhood shop and being guided to your perfect block of fromage will soon end as Say Cheese — which also sells gourmet sandwiches and goods — is set to close permanently after nearly 53 years of business. Wednesday, April 23, will be its last day open to the public.
“I’ve had the privilege of seeing your children grow up, graduate, marry, and start families of their own,” Harrell wrote in a letter that he taped to the shop’s front window. “I have witnessed the power of community and how food — whether cheese, wine, or something simple — can bring people together in the most meaningful ways.”
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Harrell, who purchased the shop in 1999, has been on a month-to-month lease since 2021, when new landlords approached him with the first right of refusal on a rent increase to $9,000 per month, plus operating expenses, amounting to about $12,000 a month. At the time, his monthly rent was $3,950.
“I know the numbers,” said Harrell. “Say Cheese can’t support that rent. It’s beyond impossible.”
In February, the landlords, Talia Kaloostian and her husband, Paul, informed Harrell that they found a new tenant, a bread company. Say Cheese’s lease will officially terminate on April 30.
The Kaloostians did not respond to requests for comment.
Say Cheese was opened in 1972 by Jack and Esther Goldstyn, who ran a deli at the nearby Hub market. After 17 years, the Goldstyns sold Say Cheese to Julie Noyes and her partner Jerri Woods in 1989. Under Noyes, the shop’s footprint expanded to include a cafe.
Harrell’s first day working at Say Cheese was Oct. 17, 1996. Previously, he had been in senior restaurant management at Nordstrom, but after traveling for three months across Europe, he found a new love in cheese. Upon returning to Silver Lake — Harrell has lived in the neighborhood nearly his entire life — he immediately visited Say Cheese, wearing a pressed suit and with a resume in hand.
The owners initially found Harrell overqualified, but agreed to hire him after he promised to stay on through the holiday season — the shop’s busiest time of year. Three years later, Noyes retired and sold the business to Harrell, who has further refined Say Cheese’s offerings and service over the past 26 years. During the holiday season, Harrell had a tradition of giving away Champagne and caviar samples.
“There’s something special about his store and what he offers,” said Erika Kaiser, a longtime Silver Lake resident and “customer-friend,” as Harrell calls his regulars. “He’s the kind of guy who can show you new flavors and open your world. It’s not like going to Trader Joe’s.”
“He gets to know all of his customers,” said Meg Williamson, Harrell’s wine vendor turned close friend. “Especially in L.A., things are so in-and-out, and he’s just a people person.”
In some ways, Harrell says the closure comes at a good time, as President 罢谤耻尘辫’蝉 proposed tariffs would have undoubtedly affected Say Cheese as a buyer of European goods. Harrell’s 15-year employee and friend, Garvin Dunn, also died unexpectedly in February, and Harrell has had to continue business while managing his grief.
‘I just want to be able to make a living and support my customers and pay my bills. So there’s not a lot of leeway, in other words, to keep prices as low as they could be,’ Los Angeles wine shop owner and wine authority Lou Amdur says.
Despite the recent hurdles, and the shop’s general decline in business — when Harrell first took over, he said he had as many as 12 employees and 17 during the holiday season; 26 years later, he has two, including himself — Harrell sees the increased rent as the primary reason for the cheese shop’s closure.
Harrell said he had a wonderful relationship with his previous landlord, but the building went through conservatorship, and around five-and-a-half years ago, was listed for auction. Harrell was outbid by the Kaloostians for ownership.
Harrell experienced a wave of emotions when the 30-day notice to vacate arrived on Feb. 28 — the same day as Dunn’s wake.
“How do you say goodbye to people in 30 days?” he said. “You can’t.”
It wasn’t until sharing the news with a close friend that Harrell learned that he was owed more than 30 days to vacate. Gov. Gavin Newsom signed legislation last September that went into effect on Jan. 1, 2025, that widens protections for commercial tenants. In Harrell’s case, he should have received a minimum of 60 days to vacate. Harrell said his landlords did not immediately respond to his appeal for 60 days, but ultimately granted the mandated extension. “Needless to say, I had a few sleepless nights,” Harrell said.
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Locals are mourning the loss of Harrell as much as the shop itself.
“Glenn is a proprietor in the sense that he would sit down and chat with people much in the way the European owners do,” said Sarah Pia Anderson, another “customer-friend” who has known Harrell since 2002. “I looked forward to those conversations that we had at his cafe table because they were as meaningful and as deep as any friendship I’ve ever had.”
“He’s one of those people where he’s always there,” said Kaiser. “It’s not just his store.”
Kaiser has a daughter who attends nearby Ivanhoe Elementary and is the Girl Scout troop leader of the school’s Daisies. Recently, Harrell let the troop sell cookies in front of his store; the girls wrote thank-you cards that Harrell quickly laminated and hung up in the window.
“There isn’t much I want to take physically from this business, but I feel like when I get older those will mean a lot to me,” said Harrell, starting to tear up while glancing at the door.
“Say Cheese is the cheese,” one note read. “You are the best in the [world] Glenn,” another said.
Locals see Say Cheese as an example of the mom-and-pop stores that make Silver Lake special.
“You’re drawn to Silver Lake because you like the uniqueness of it,” Kaiser said. “But now even when you drive down Sunset, you’re like, ‘Oh, that’s another chain.’”
Moving forward, Harrell said he is looking forward to spending time with his ailing parents and grandmother.
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“I have always been taken care of and I know I will be taken care of,” he said of his future.
On the shop’s last day, Harrell will host an open house from 6 to 8 p.m. for close friends and customers to come say farewell.
“[Say Cheese] has a wonderful history and he can be proud he carried it for so long,” said Noyes.
“What I have learned is community,” said Harrell. “Ultimately, in a word: community.”
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