It’s not often you get to write your own ending, but that’s just what chef Alex Seidel has done with Fruition Restaurant. When he announced on December 16 that the restaurant will close after dinner service on January 12, it’s hardly hyperbole to say that a collective gasp could be heard across the city.

Then, the reservations began pouring in. And so did the texts and phone calls. “It’s been pretty overwhelming,” Seidel says. General manager Tara Marcellus, who has worked with Seidel since he opened Fruition 18 years ago, says she’s also been wowed by the response. “The community outreach has been daunting,” she says. “You don’t really realize how many lives you’ve touched until they’re begging to come back in for one more dinner.”

Over the course of nearly two decades, Fruition became more than a restaurant: In addition to housing a stockpile of memories for scores of diners, it served as a launch pad for chefs. Just look at the names that spun out of Fruition’s teeny-tiny five-person kitchen: Matt Vawter (who won a James Beard Award last year for his Breckenridge restaurant Rootstalk), Blake Edmunds (partner and culinary director of Culinary Creative Group), Justin Brunson (Old Major, Masterpiece Deli, River Bear Meats), Kodi Simkins (Frasca Food and Wine, Wolf’s Tailor, Beckon), Franco Ruiz (Hops & Pie, Woodie Fisher), and so many more. “I got into this little place, and maybe it wasn’t the dream location, kitchen, or space,” Seidel says, “but I would tell people, ‘it’s not the four walls; it’s the people inside.’ ”

Chef Alex Seidel of Fruition Restaurant in an apron
Alex Seidel. Photo courtesy of Fruition Restaurant

That is legacy. And, in many ways, that’s what Seidel, who grew up in Wisconsin, set out to do when he opened Fruition in 2007. The restaurant was first and foremost Seidel’s creative platform, but he also wanted it to make opportunities for others. “My dream has been to help the next generation,” he says. “I was given a chance, and I want to help create that opportunity for others.”

The encouragement he needed to open Fruition came from Seidel’s childhood friend and former soccer teammate, Jesse Marsch. It was Marsch, who went on to play professional soccer and is now the head coach of the Canada men’s national team, who instilled belief in Seidel. It was Marsch who dropped Seidel off at his first cooking job in Wisconsin, all the while quizzing him on the five essential sauces at stoplights. It was Marsch who championed Seidel when he dropped out of college to attend culinary school. And it was Marsch who recognized that wherever Seidel cooked, he made things better. “It was like success followed Alex wherever he went,” Marsch says. “They were all successful restaurants, but they all did better when he was there.”

As fate would have it, right about the time chef Sean Kelly was considering closing Somethin’ Else, Marsch had a soccer game in Denver. Seidel picked him up on his motorcycle, and they drove directly to look at the space. It was beat up, but they decided it was doable. “Jesse made me believe I could do it,” Seidel says. “He put it in my head—and without that conversation, I couldn’t and wouldn’t have done it.”

It was also Marsch who helped guide Seidel’s leadership style. “I don’t know how to run restaurants,” Marsch says. “But I do know about teams, and when you go the extra mile and make people feel part of something and feel valued, it works.” And that’s the crux of what Seidel, who spent years playing team sports, built at Fruition. “They believed in Alex, and he believed in them,” Marsch says.

This was only possible because Seidel was earnest, open, and deeply committed to the art of cooking. Fruition, with Seidel’s exquisite seasonal cuisine, was an instant success. (Just months after opening, the restaurant landed on this magazine’s Best New Restaurants list, with many local and national accolades to follow.) Two years into running Fruition, Seidel bought a 10-acre farm and dairy in Larkspur. “What it really comes down to is that I’m a seeker. I have an inquisitive mind,” Seidel says. “I was trying to understand Colorado after only being here a short amount of time.”

There was also another reason, Seidel confesses: “Coming from Wisconsin, I wanted to make cheese.” The year prior, he had seen Lachlan MacKinnon-Patterson, then executive chef of Frasca Food and Wine, begin selling a jarred red pepper jam inspired by his grandmother’s recipe. That stuck with Seidel. “I wanted to make something that people could take home,” he says. That thinking was integral when Seidel opened Mercantile in 2014. In addition to breakfast, lunch, and dinner service, the Union Station restaurant offers an in-house market with charcuterie, pickles, preserves, and, of course, cheese. (In 2018, for his efforts at Mercantile, Seidel won a James Beard Award for Best Chef Southwest.)

Seidel would tell you that it’s not about him, however. One of the reasons he opened Mercantile was to offer upward mobility for folks like Vawter and Marcellus. He’s also stepped aside and named executive chefs to helm Fruition (currently the very talented Jarred Russell, who hails from the French Laundry in Napa) and Mercantile (currently Alex Grenier, who came from the Welton Room). In September, Mercantile became part of the Sage Hospitality Group’s restaurant portfolio. It was the first indication that Seidel was shifting his priorities.

“It’s time for an evolution,” Seidel says. “I’ve been going in the front or the back door of a restaurant my whole life. I’ve learned what I’m good at, and what I’m not good at. I’ve learned what I like to do and don’t like to do. I like to work with people and create food. I don’t like looking at profit and loss sheets and talking to HR every day and trying to be up to speed on new regulations.”

Although Fruition will close after this Sunday (no word on what will happen to the space, which has held such lauded restaurants as Fruition, Somethin’ Else, Claire de Lune, and Ranelle’s), Seidel isn’t hanging up his apron. He remains an active partner in Mercantile, mini Aussie-style chicken chain Chook, and FüdMill, a wholesale bakery.

As for what Seidel will do with more free time? He says he’s looking forward to spending more time with his family, toiling in his garden—he’s currently growing and harvesting saffron (yes, in the snow)—and working on his pottery (a hobby he picked up during the pandemic). “I’m getting back to what I love to do, which is create,” he says. “It’s not just creating dishes in a restaurant. It’s creating memories, hospitality, and things I put food on.”

In the coming days, the tiny, warm space that has held Fruition for 18 years will be requisitely packed. If you’re lucky enough to grab a reservation, make sure to look around the room. You’ll likely see the faces of those who have worked in the kitchen or worked the restaurant’s floor. Vawter, who started as garde manger and left seven years later as chef de cuisine to helm Mercantile, has assembled a group of Fruition alumni (affectionately known as the “Fru Cru”) to pay their last respects.

“That was the reflection moment, looking at that list. Denver’s dining scene owes a lot to this restaurant,” Vawter says. “Alex felt like it was his responsibility to train the next guard, and now they’re flying in and showing him what he built.”

Read More: Denver’s Best Restaurant Openings and Saddest Closings in 2024

Amanda M. Faison
Amanda M. Faison
Freelance writer Amanda M. Faison spent 20 years at 5280 Magazine, 12 of those as Food Editor.