Last week, a terrible thing happened: The I Love New York Deli in the U-District closed (with outcry in comments over here).

Now we have learned that, horribly, the original I Love New York Deli in the Pike Place Market is also gone, gone, gone, as of this past Sunday.

I just had a rather heartbreaking conversation with owner Jon Jacobs. He was at his Big Apple Deli in Maple Valley, which remains open. Among other factors in the closures, he mentioned that his meat costs had nearly doubled. "We tried raising the price 25 cents and people went insane," he said. "Look at the price of gas versus seven years ago... and I wasn't going to cut back on quality." He says the micro-neighborhood of the U-District shop, which opened near Scarecrow Video in summer 2009, has suffered mightily because of the economy and construction in the area this past winter (as noted in comments here—and it was arguably never a great location in terms of foot traffic in any case). "Business really dropped off," he said, "a lot of businesses had trouble—the hot dog place went out of business—they've been there forever. Five businesses went under."

"It sucks, but there's nobody to blame but myself," Jacobs said. "Financially, it just wasn't feasible anymore. It just got to be where it was ridiculous... You just get to a point sometimes where you just can't fight anymore."

"Those were the love of my life, those stores," he said. "You get behind in the rent, and you just can't catch up."

Jacobs mentioned filing for bankruptcy (the Maple Valley store is a separate entity). "I don't want it to be this way," he said. "Those days that i was at the Market, I loved those days. This is the hardest time of my life... if I could pay the bills right now, I would. I know I'm not the only one, but I feel like I am. I work 20 hours a day—I work my ass off. It's really hard."

Meanwhile, Jacobs is trying to negotiate a lease on a space on the Ave to resurrect the U-District store, which would involve a loan from his father.

"I'm not saying we're dead," he said, "but I still gotta come up with about $12,000 in deposits and stuff. I'm talking to my dad here—he's always offered to help—but if I take a penny, he'll be sitting in there telling everyone what to do. 'A silent partner is silent, Dad.' I don't know if people will be able to handle it!"

He says if the new U-District location comes to pass, it could be open as soon as next month. "If I can raise the money here—if I can talk my dad into being quiet!—I can do this quick," he said, sounding hopeful. He said he'd know more about the possibility next week.

The amazing Reuben of I Love New York Deli is still available at Big Apple in Maple Valley, where he stocks the same extra-fine meats and bread—though he notes of the eaters down that way, "It's different here. It's always been a separate business. The other ones, it's the 'we're only using this pastrami' kind of thing, here it's lots of turkey breast, roast beef, and brisket. They love the bread from Franz bakery—it's so funny, I go out of my way getting this really good rye bread and stuff, and they want the stuff I can get at Cash & Carry."

Here is an ode to I Love New York Deli's Reuben from 2009's "Sandwiches We Have Loved":

Reuben Sandwich, I Love New York Deli (93 Pike St #4, 381-DELI)

The New York–style delicatessen sandwich should not be upheld as the Platonic ideal of a sandwich. Almost any sandwich can achieve greatness—even the quotidian grilled cheese—and to hold one type above all others is foolishness, especially if part of your argument rests on the slippery slope of authenticity. That being said, the Reuben at I Love New York Deli, in Pike Place Market, is irrefutably the best sandwich in the city. In the mode of such sandwiches, it is massive. (Overheard: "This is honestly too damn big." Oh, Seattle.) Likewise, it is laden with meat: three-plus inches at the center, imported from New York City, steamed prior to being packed on. The absurd amount of meat on a New York–style deli sandwich is not necessarily a virtue—it can get dry or monotonous—but this corned beef, moist and rich, is empirically good. The bread: your choice of four kinds of rye. The sandwich is grilled on a noncommercial electric griddle in the back of I Love New York's tiny stand, possibly by New York import/owner Jon Jacobs (a big sweetheart) or Elena (she of the sonorous accent—"It's a biiig sandwich! And a yommy one!"). When it gets to you, it's hot and toasty and tangy; it's also disintegrating under the weight of its own goodness. You don't even have to be especially fond of Reubens to recognize this sandwich's inherent awesomeness. This sandwich will convert you. BETHANY JEAN CLEMENT