Bring The Leroy House To Your Home

“It was our goal to create a neighborhood gathering place. Now, we can’t gather,” says Kim Nguyen, who owns The Leroy House with her husband, Bill Block. The type of mom-and-pop establishment that is increasingly rare on the streets of Manhattan, The Leroy House quickly became a West Village fixture, serving everything from duck confit to deviled eggs to craft cocktails. But now, their main goal is to serve hope to a city with not a lot of hope left.

Restaurants around New York have been forced to shut their doors and lay off the majority of their workers. “A lot of people can’t stay open right now because they don’t have any reserve,” says Nguyen, who has taken out loans and cut personal expenses to continue fulfilling orders. The couple has also committed to paying the rent of their laid-off employees for the next three months, which for many, unemployment doesn’t fully cover.

“We are losing money. Definitely. A lot of money. But we can’t give up hope,” says Nguyen. “We can give up gym memberships and basics, but we can’t give up hope for our employees and for the neighborhood.”

The Leroy House channels the charm and history of West Village not only through its aesthetic, but also its deep connection to the community.  “Our whole idea for opening this restaurant was to celebrate the neighborhood,” says Block. “And the whole idea of what a neighborhood means, the coronavirus goes against completely. But we are determined to celebrate the neighborhood in any way we can.”

In addition to shifting to a takeout and delivery-only model, The Leroy House has cut prices by 30% and adjusted their menu to feature items that lend themselves well to a remote-dining experience. Nguyen calls it survival mode. “Our sales have gone down 95%. It’s drastic, but it’s reality,” she says.

The Leroy House is their livelihood, but the couple upholds that the current situation can’t be made about the money. “It’s about fulfilling and helping people see how we are going to get through this as a neighborhood and as human beings,” says Nguyen.

“We are holding it together so when we come back, we come back roaring.”