Restaurants that keep their kitchens open late into the night are treasured by chefs as dearly as their favourite knife. Heading to a reliable place to break bread after a busy night is a ritual for them and other hospitality workers.

Seafood Street was one of the names mentioned again and again whenever chefs were asked about their favourite places to eat after work in Melbourne. They describe it as an “institution”, “the chefs’ restaurant”, and like sitting at “your mum’s table”.

“It was a little haven almost,” says Cameron Tay-Yap, a chef who’s worked for nearly a decade in fine-diners and now runs his own temporary restaurant at a rock-climbing gym, La Roca, in Melbourne’s south.

“You knew it was going to be good, you didn’t have to think about it, and you could let your guard down and enjoy it for what it was.”

Fellow fan John Rivera, a chef who co-owns Askal on Exhibition Street, says: “You’d leave full and satisfied, and you would think about who you’re going to bring there next.”

But the Russell Street restaurant closed late last year with little warning, after serving thousands of plates of XO pipis to hungry chefs at 1am.

‘At the end of the day, we just want something comforting and flavourful with no frills.’

Askal owner-chef John Rivera

The restaurant opened in the depths of the pandemic, with reports that staff from the then-shuttered Ling Nan, another late-night favourite, were involved. (Ling Nan reopened in a new location in late 2021.)

Originally open from 5pm until at least 1 in the morning, Seafood Street specialised in Cantonese dishes, especially live seafood such as abalone, lobster and crab, which were plucked from the many tanks that were crammed around the entrance and along the front window.

In its final months, it introduced a $9.80 lunch menu with more South-East Asian dishes, such as nasi goreng and Hainanese chicken rice. Fans felt standards had slipped and the atmosphere was different. Then, the doors shut for good.

“One day I walked past and all the seafood was gone … The fish tanks were empty,” says Rivera, who also runs ice-cream shop Kariton Sorbetes a few doors away.

Through a spokesperson, company director Min “Sammy” Shi (linked to Shanghai Street dumpling restaurants) said that rising costs and staff shortages were to blame.

“It’s a shame, because if you asked a lot of chefs, they had some great times there,” Rivera says.

After a long night of cooking for other people and obsessing over the details, chefs are grateful to find a place that will look after them, no matter how late it is.

“It’s not just a kebab or whatever,” says pastry chef Joane Yeoh, who runs Kori Ice Cream in Hawthorn and the city. “[At Seafood Street], you could get lobster noodles and luxury food, or you could get something really simple like a congee.”

Most chefs gravitated to a handful of dishes: pipis stir-fried in XO sauce with a side of youtiao (the long Chinese doughnuts); steamed fish with ginger and spring onion; salt-and-pepper quail; and water spinach in fermented bean curd sauce. Fried rice with unagi (freshwater eel) was another highlight.

It was the straightforwardness of the cooking that appealed to many chefs.

“We try our best to make stunning food that is really interesting and delicious. But at the end of the day, we just want something comforting and flavourful with no frills,” Rivera says.

Yeoh remembers that she and her team at hatted Coda would order takeaway from Seafood Street for their staff meal during COVID-19, when they couldn’t visit the restaurant and were preparing their own takeaway orders.

Beyond the food, Seafood Street was a beacon for its consistency, BYO policy (great for chefs who could raid their restaurant’s cellar) and its low-fuss hospitality.

“There was a funny character, Uncle Alan, who was always on the floor,” says Tay-Yap. “He was very cheeky; he might give you a wink or a pat on the back.”

“It was like the chefs’ restaurant,” says Rivera. “They knew you were industry. They weren’t going to give you bland service. They’d joke around with you.”

He and Tay-Yap both have fond memories of taking chefs from out of town to Seafood Street, often after events they’d worked hard on.

“It’s a bonding experience when you go and eat together as a team after a couple of big services. And eating a meal that you haven’t cooked as well − that’s important,” Tay-Yap says.

A location of Malaysian fried chicken chain Marrybrown will open in Seafood Street’s place, as the fast-food franchise increases its presence in Melbourne.

With Seafood Street gone, Yeoh, Tay-Yap, and Rivera and his staff are returning to other late-night constants. On Bourke Street, Butcher’s Diner will grill you a steak or a burger until 1am. Supper Inn, another Chinatown favourite, is open even later and, at 48, is older than many of the chefs it feeds. Further afield, South Yarra institution France-Soir shuts the door at midnight.

In a parting message to the Seafood Street crew, Rivera says: “I hope that they know that they brought so much joy to so many chefs in the city for so long.”