After 29 years: Palma's cult bar Can Comas closes as owners retire

End of an era in Aragón: Can Comas closes its doors

By the end of this September week, two moving boxes sit next to the bar on Aragón Street and a chalkboard with handwritten words of thanks. After almost three decades, Antonio Lara and Jaqueline Lasere will hand over the keys. Between September 30 and October 1, the Can Comas chapter officially retires.

Not a big splash, but everyday life

This was never a bar for show, but a meeting place where the day began with a strong coffee at 9 a.m. and often ended with an improvised chat around 10 p.m. The kitchen smelled of garlic, roast and sea salt – roast suckling pig on Sundays, large paellas, and the inevitable fideuà. The lunch menus were honest portions; guests came to fill up and to talk.

We are handing the venue back to the owner, says the couple who are seen by many as the soul of the place. They emphasize that new tenants are ready and will try to keep the operation going. Whether the new handwriting will keep the old regulars remains to be seen.

Family, work and the small rituals

'Our three children grew up here, our four grandchildren have played here,' Jaqueline says with a smile that also looks tired. It is these images – children among chairs, cards on the table, tapas that disappeared as quickly as warm buns – that make the place irreplaceable for the neighborhood.

Antonio is proud of the simple thing: good, traditional cuisine without frills. The guests praised his touch in cooking. For many, Can Comas was a piece of origin in the city, a place where people spoke, laughed, and sometimes even argued loudly.

Between nostalgia and reality

In Palma, traditional shops and venues have disappeared more frequently in recent years. Some names were even older than the city administration's list of protected establishments – but not everyone is so lucky. Can Comas is not among the historic 75-year addresses that are specially protected. That makes the farewell bitter, but it is part of a larger community picture: change, sometimes too fast.

The farewell should stay quiet, say the operators. Not a big event, more a final gathering with familiar voices and a glass. Afterward, Antonio and Jaqueline want to step back: walks, family time, perhaps a coffee at the harbor without the pressure of a service week.

Whether the successor will capture the heart of the venue remains to be seen. For Aragón Street, the memory endures of a bar that held much together without fuss. And for the people who lived and worked there, a life that had folded into small rituals over 29 years ends. This is not a scandal, but a quiet change – and still perceptible.