The closure appears to have happened fast — almost eerily so. According to locals, a sign went up on the door on a Friday, and by Sunday night, it was over. The last day of service was reportedly March 29th. No long farewell tour, no dramatic social media announcement. Just done.

For a city that loves to talk about supporting small businesses, we sure do lose a lot of them.

Eiji wasn't a flashy spot. It was the kind of place you told your friends about in a low voice, like sharing a secret — a family-run restaurant with handmade tofu and a warmth that chain restaurants spend millions trying to manufacture. "The house made tofu…" one devastated SF resident lamented online, trailing off as if words couldn't capture the loss. Another local summed it up simply: "What a shame. I loved that place too. It seemed family run as well."

That's the part that stings. San Francisco's regulatory environment — the permits, the fees, the labyrinth of compliance costs — hits family-run operations the hardest. The big restaurant groups have lawyers and accountants. Mom-and-pop spots have grit and prayer. And increasingly, grit and prayer aren't enough.

We don't yet know the specific reasons behind Eiji's closure, and it would be unfair to speculate too broadly. But the pattern is impossible to ignore. The Castro, like much of San Francisco, keeps hemorrhaging the independent, character-driven businesses that make neighborhoods worth living in, while City Hall pats itself on the back for another round of small business grants that never seem to reach the places that need them most.

Rest easy, Eiji. You deserved better than this city gave you.