In WAMU’s series “Postcards To My City,” Washingtonians share how the coronavirus pandemic has changed their appreciation for their favorite local places. Read more postcards here.

The coronavirus pandemic has devastated Washington’s restaurants and left thousands of restaurant and bar workers with no steady income.

For local foodie Samer Farha, the pandemic has served to highlight the crucial social role that restaurants, bars and their employees once played in his life. The 50-year-old Arlington resident grew up in Kuwait and Lebanon and immigrated to the United States in 1987. He works in tech for Thomson Reuters.

Farha used to go out to eat four to five nights a week. Now, quarantined alone in his apartment, he’s experiencing an unfamiliar loneliness.

Farha recounted memories of one of his favorite local food establishments, the Sovereign, and shared a message for his friends who worked there. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

How has your daily routine changed during the pandemic?

It was a relatively easy transition. I already only went into the office two or three days a week. I’ve had a couple of friends who have had COVID-19, but they are all recovered, so I’m very thankful for that.

The Washington region has a diverse restaurant scene. What are your favorite parts?

Being Lebanese, I really appreciate that there are half a dozen places I can go to get Lebanese food. We have a Michelin-starred restaurant that makes Lebanese food, Maydan, and we had a brand new restaurant — hopefully, they’ll survive this — named Albi that also makes Levantine food. I appreciate having all that choice.

I describe myself as an introvert, but anyone who knows me will tell you that I’m not. I really like going out, and I’m very comfortable talking to people. And I’m very comfortable sitting at a bar. I just like to get to know people. And bartenders are always willing to talk if they’re not super busy.

Out of all the restaurants and bars in the region, what’s one place you missed the most?

The Sovereign. It was sort of my dream restaurant because I’ve always loved really, really good Belgian beer. The only thing I had against it was that it was in Georgetown, but it turned me around on that.

From my office, it’s a roughly 4-mile walk from downtown through Georgetown, across the Key Bridge and through the Courthouse area of Arlington. The Sovereign just happens to be perfectly at the 2-mile mark for me. You get there and you’re like, “It’s all uphill from here, so I might as well stop for a beer.”

What’s it like inside?

When I go to the Sovereign, it’s kind of like Norm from Cheers — everybody there knows my name. Most of the bartenders know what types of beers I like to order, so when I come in, I often don’t have to ask for anything. They’ll say, “Oh, we have these two new beers, you really should try one of these.”

It’s in an alleyway — if you don’t look down the alley, you will absolutely miss it. There’s this mosaic up front on the building that spells out the name of the place.

The downstairs bar and the dining room are subdued — darker woods, red leather and wooden chairs that swivel. They’re big, they’re heavy, they’re comfortable. They’re probably the best bar stools in the world. There’s also lots of shimmering beer taps and a big altar of liquor in the middle.

What are your favorite items on the menu?

They’ve always had the best waffles in town — very traditionally Belgian, Liege-style waffles. They usually have them with all sorts of fruit toppings, and even Nutella, but the thing I missed the most from wandering around Belgian streets was a chocolate-dipped waffle.

One day, one of my favorite waitresses, Hannah, surprised me with a waffle covered in a chocolate ganache. “This is special for you,” she said. It was just one of my favorite things ever. There was the “Samer Waffle” for a while!

Are you still in touch with the waitstaff or bartenders?

I really miss them. They’re like friends. We don’t really hang out away from the Sovereign, but before, we’d see each other sometimes two times, three times a week.

I do stay in touch with a few via Instagram or text. They’re mostly doing OK — they’re getting unemployment. They’re managing to make things work at the moment, but everyone’s really stressed about the future.

Beyond missing out on good food and drink, how has this period in time reshaped your life?

It’s really tough. I live alone, and it’s hard. There’s no one in this room to talk to.

I’ll occasionally see neighbors from the balcony or as we’re taking our daily walks, but it’s not the same as having a deep conversation with someone at a bar.

Imagine the day D.C. lifts its stay-at-home order and allows restaurants and bars to reopen. What’s the first thing you’ll do?

As soon as it’s safe for me to go to the Sovereign, I will be there in a heartbeat. I really miss not just the food, but the people.

That’s the thing I would take away most from this: Anyone can serve you a beer, but not everyone can do it with grace and with passion. Bar people and restaurant people are some of the best people in the world, I think.

This story originally appeared on WAMU.