For the love of God, use your restaurant gift cards

Restaurant gift cards begin as a thoughtful gesture — a birthday envelope, a holiday token, a “you deserve a night out.” So often, however, they migrate to a junk drawer or coat pocket, resurfacing in a moment of hopeful nostalgia:

“Hey, remember this place?”

But that cool restaurant has become a vape store, a Pilates studio, or a bubble-tea shop with a plastic vine selfie wall accented by the phrase “Let’s Make Pour Decisions.” written in neon.

That $75 that you thought would buy a roasted half chicken and a glass of natural wine from a “carefully curated” list has become a relic of a business that thrived briefly and then disappeared.

If you’re receiving a restaurant gift card this holiday season, there’s one important thing to bear in mind:

Use it. Fast. Not “soon.” Not “when it feels right.” Not after you’ve coordinated three calendars and a celestial alignment. Treat it like arugula, not heirloom jewelry. And if you’re giving one, attach an affectionate nudge: Go immediately.

One-off, independent restaurants — the mainstay of Philadelphia’s mighty restaurant scene — depend on gift card sales. Ben Fileccia, senior vice president with the Pennsylvania Restaurant & Lodging Association, calls restaurant gift cards “one of the best ways to support the local businesses that bring our communities together.” He considers them a “direct investment in the neighborhood restaurants that show up for our schools, charities, and local events. Most restaurants honor every card they sell, and gift cards continue to be a reliable, meaningful way to support the hospitality businesses you love.”

But temper that with the idea that restaurants come and go.

Some restaurants wind down operations and stop selling gift cards months before the shutdown, publicly advising customers to use them promptly. One case in point is Laurel in South Philadelphia this year, which enjoyed a six-month countdown. Just last week, Rocco’s at the Brick shut down without warning during a dispute with the landlord; the owner graciously is refunding outstanding gift cards.

Others are not so ethical. On Christmas Eve 1994, a popular Center City bistro called Odeon was selling gift certificates — they were paper back then. Odeon never reopened after New Year’s and the gift certificates became bookmarks. The rumor was that the reservationist sold them, not knowing that the restaurant was closing.

Buying from a restaurant chain can be safer. But just two months ago, Iron Hill Brewery & Restaurant — a pillar of the region for three decades — shuttered three locations and, two weeks later, closed the remaining 16 and then filed for bankruptcy protection. If you have an Iron Hill gift card, you’re at the very back of the line.

J. Alexander’s, a contemporary steakhouse chain, shut down its King of Prussia location without notice last year. Gift cards can be honored at the closest remaining locations in Clifton, N.J., or Annapolis, Md. Grand Lux Cafe’s Cherry Hill location closed in 2020, directing customers to its King of Prussia location, which closed a year later. If you still have a Grand Lux Cafe card, plan a day trip to Paramus, N.J., or Garden City, N.Y. (Cheesecake Factory owns Grand Lux but does not accept its cards.)

Bertucci’s is slowly, quietly exiting: The suburban locations in Bryn Mawr, Langhorne, Marlton, Mount Laurel, and beyond went dark, leaving only Springfield, Delaware County, and Newark, Del. Houlihan’s vanished from Philadelphia and its suburbs altogether, and Ruby Tuesday has done the same slow fade, retreating from malls and roadside plazas that once seemed permanent.

Total gift card spending is expected to reach $29.1 billion, up from $28.6 billion in 2024, according to the National Retail Federation. Consumers plan to purchase between three to four gift cards and expect to spend an average of $171.32 per person. Restaurants remain the most popular gift card type (27%), followed by bank-issued cards (25%), department stores (25%), and coffee shops (20%).

As you might imagine, restaurants do not mind selling cards. By industry estimates, 5% to 15% of restaurant card value is never used — a concept known as “breakage.”

In Pennsylvania, the law prohibits gift cards from expiring in less than two years and bans dormancy fees; after five years without redemption the value is presumed abandoned and may be sent to the state. In New Jersey, the law requires that gift card value remain fully available for at least 24 months and restricts inactivity fees during that period.

Universal gift cards, like those issued by Visa and Mastercard, are the safest bet if you want to give something other than cold, hard cash. Although there’s usually an upfront fee with their purchase, they travel with the recipient, not the business. They survive concept changes, closures, disputes, and chef departures. Perhaps give the recipient one of these gift cards with a list of suggested restaurants. (For inspiration, I might suggest including a copy of The Inquirer’s 76 Magazine, our guide to the restaurants that are defining dining in the region, available through The Inquirer’s online store.)

Or consider a donation in your friend’s name to a Philadelphia hunger-relief nonprofit, such as Share Food Program, Sunday Love Project, and People’s Kitchen, which work magic turning even modest gifts into many meals.

Of course, you could skip giving a gift card altogether. Instead, pick a date, make a reservation, and treat the recipient to a meal — and to your company.