The Last Carrot Says Goodbye

Long-time customers of the healthy-food restaurant on Grand Avenue crowded the lunch counter last week as the clock ticked down to a final closing.  

The last hour at The Last Carrot had arrived. 

Flowers lined the counter as patrons savored the last bites of their go-to orders – for many, the same spinach pie and juice combination – while surrounded by the restaurant’s orange walls and cartoon bunny decorations. 

The last apple was juiced, pita stuffed, and carrot chopped, bringing at least a temporary end to Coconut Grove’s oldest continually-operating restaurant.  

Family, friends, and lovers of The Last Carrot clinked Peronis as tears welled in the corners of their eyes and they pulled Erin Compton, owner and frontperson of the business, into hugs at the end of the counter. 

“It’s always been a place that’s more than just food,” Compton said. “It’s so emotional, but it’s all full of gratitude. The restaurant did what it was meant to do, and that’s what brings a community together.” 

Less than two weeks prior, the restaurant announced it would be closing on Saturday, Feb. 7 to make way for a new development. The Last Carrot, a fixture on Grand Avenue for 35 years, will be replaced by Ziggurat, a high-end mixed-use development. 

Ever the busy bee, Compton kept cleaning dishes and taking orders as the final minutes to closing ticked away – a welcome distraction, she said, as she prepared to say goodbye to the business she had run for 25 years. 

The Last Carrot was opened in Coconut Grove in 1975 by University of Miami graduate and nutrition advocate Michael Compton in a window-style store in the hallway space between what is now Le Bouchon Du Grove and Sandbar Sports Grill.

The restaurant moved to a new space on Grand Avenue in 1991, where it’s been serving fresh, nutrient-dense meals ever since. 

“There’s nothing like it. It’s a huge loss,” said patron Mason Duboff.

In 2001, Compton took over the store with her sister Meadow Compton after their father’s passing. Compton had just turned 20. “I don’t think that really anybody expected us to have a run for another 25 years,” she said.

The loyal customers who came to say goodbye over the last several weeks showed why the restaurant was able to stay open so many years. 

Irene, who asked to only be referenced by first name, has been coming to The Last Carrot since she was in high school. 

“When I didn’t live here, this was my first spot back. It’s a homebase for me,” she said. “Now my kids are experiencing that. My daughter lives in Texas, and when I pick her up from the airport we come here first.” 

Like many, Irene swears by the tuna pita. She enjoyed her final one at the counter on Friday afternoon while writing a message to Compton in a blank book that had been set out for customers to sign and share a memory. 

Nearly every corner of the book had been filled by Friday afternoon with colorful, Sharpie- ink notes. “That book is going to be timeless for me,” Compton said.

Irene walked out with a Last Carrot hat, tote bag, and several takeaway orders just as the lunch rush began to overtake the store. 

Within five minutes, a line of 20 hungry, emotional customers had formed, and the chatter began.

“I drove an hour for this,” one customer said. “I’m visiting home and just had to make time to come in,” another added. “How am I going to pick what to get?” a third asked. 

The turnout was a testament to how much the restaurant meant to so many. 

“It was really heartwarming to see so many people show up,” Duboff said. 

Compton shared how one couple told her they drove 15 hours to make it before the store closed, while another moved up their trip from California by four days. 

“This place means a lot to me, but it’s not just me. It means a lot to other people,” she said. “I don’t think that I really realized all of the different seasons that it held for me, it held for other people also.”

And even with the rush of customers at the end, Compton still knew all the regular’s particular orders.

“No, your dad won’t want that,” she told one customer. “You like it without the sprouts, right?” she asked another. “Four green sauces like usual?” she called out while slicing vegetables, her hair pulled back with a carrot clip. 

Longtime customer Marshall Steingold marveled at her aplomb.

“She’s one in a million. She could handle any situation that was going on in there. She’s got a wonderful personality, and she just makes it seem effortless,” he said.

Steingold was first introduced to The Last Carrot in the early ‘80s when he had an apartment on Mary Street. He would stop by the counter for a carrot juice before biking down to Matheson Hammock Park and back.

He’s remained a loyal customer since, eating there two to three times a week for lunch.

“No place is going to duplicate what The Last Carrot has done. It’s just different. It’s not just the food, it’s not just the atmosphere, it’s not just Erin’s personality, it’s everything put together,” Steingold said. 

He likened the restaurant to the bar in “Cheers”, a place where everybody knew your name. “Everybody knew who you were. And if they didn’t know you, they got to know you,” he said. “It was, you know, a true Grove original.”

He credits much of this to Compton, and the way she was able to grow the store after her father passed. “Not only did she embrace it, she took it further,” he said. “She put her own stamp on it.”

Judging by the words exchanged during the countdown to closing, it was clear that many customers came for Compton, just as much as the food. Nearly every order came with an exchange of love and gratitude for her service. 

Compton said the love goes both ways. The Last Carrot is the first place she brought her son, and the place where she’s raised him. The restaurant also has been her refuge through many moments of loss.

“I have had so many different lows where I didn’t know what to do, and I would just leave the situation, and my first place was to drive to the Carrot,” she said. “Sometimes I drove to the Carrot in the middle of the night and I would just be in there. It was a safe place for me.”

She would not have been able to keep that space without her customers, especially through the COVID-19 pandemic. 

With the closing of The Last Carrot, many customers are mourning the loss of the Grove they once knew as new businesses and high-end developments sprout up with matching high-end clientele. 

“It’s very sentimental. This is one of the last vestiges that made the Grove special and organic,” customer Allison Bamford said.

Bamford sat in the middle of the counter with her sister on Friday. She too has memories of The Last Carrot that stretch back to childhood, when her dad used to take the two girls to the counter to get “hippie sandwiches.”

Compton would like to hang on to those memories, and also start anew. 

Compton says she has every intention of reopening The Last Carrot in a new spot, but has not yet secured a location. 

“I don’t know in how long, but I definitely do feel like it [a new space] will arise. I definitely want to keep working. I love this community. I love my job,” she said. 

What she is sure of is that the new space, if there is one, will be in Coconut Grove. 

“My heart is in Coconut Grove,” she said.

As Compton locked up one last time on Saturday night, she reflected on the legacy of the restaurant her dad started and she nurtured.  

“I just want The Last Carrot to be remembered as a place where people felt welcomed and nourished. No matter who they were or what they were going through, it was a safe place for them,” she said.