Iowa River Power Restaurant is closing its doors in November. And while it’s possible the restaurant may reopen after the owner of its building finishes a major renovation project of the property, the restaurant’s owners, staff and Sunday brunch beloved by local diners over the past three decades will never be the same.
Iowa River Power Restaurant (IRPR) opened at 501 1st Ave in Coralville in 1977, roughly 10 years after the Iowa-Illinois Gas and Electric Company stopped using it as an active hydropower plant. Despite operating a successful French restaurant out of the Quad Cities, Danise and Dave Petsel left it behind to purchase IRPR in 2002, inspired by the location’s history and view of the dam, river and waterfowl below.
Their chef, Todd Boehler, joined them in Coralville and has headed the IRPR kitchen ever since.
IRPR is best known as an upscale steak and seafood spot, an event venue and one of the best brunches in the state. A smaller restaurant on the street side of the building, Flannigan’s, served a more casual crowd in an Irish pub atmosphere. Danise said they struggled to staff both businesses amid the COVID-19 pandemic, and officially closed Flannigan’s in 2022 to focus resources on IRPR, which has remained profitable even amid an economic crisis.
In an interview with Little Village, Danise said they’ve long known their years were numbered, as the building’s owner, Randy Ward, has plans to restore the century-old building. But exactly how soon they’d need to clear out came as a surprise, she said.
“We didn’t expect it. We expected a few more years. I mean, we knew that Randy was trying to get a grant from the Historical Society to renovate the building and the building does need renovated. We all know that.”
“The original lease was supposed to be up in 2022. When I signed the next five years, he said he never received it and that’s my fault. I should have handed it to him. I was naïve, I was silly. I thought we were friends.”
Danise said she talked with Ward about ending the lease sooner than 2027, which they both favored. He offered a year-to-year plan, and she agreed. “And then I was shocked when I got the termination of my lease. But it is what it is.”
Little Village was unable to reach Ward for comment, but he claims the Petsels never signed the five-year extension. Ward told KCRG he asked Danise to terminate the lease in October 2022. When she expressed opposition, he extended it another month, and the lease has continued on a month-to-month basis since.
Served with an order to quit the premises by Jan. 7, 2024, the Petsels informed staff and picked a final day of operation: Nov. 26, the Sunday after Thanksgiving.
“I’m done. I’m going to be 60 in a week; I don’t plan to do it anywhere else. I’m concerned about them,” Danise said, referring to her employees. “I’m not concerned that they’re not talented enough to find other jobs. I’m concerned because they’re so upset that they’re all being broken up. I think that’s the biggest shock. I mean, that is their life. We spend the holidays together, we have functions together. We’ve been through funerals and weddings and it’s just one big family.”
Still, Danise said the staff’s anger about the situation on her behalf has been a bit of a surprise. “I’m shocked how protective they are, but I’m like, life is gonna go on, I swear to God!”
One of the most outspoken supporters of the Petsels, Travis Heck, said his loyalty was earned over 16 years working as a server at IRPR. In an essay shared with Little Village, elected officials and other local publications last week, Heck explained why news of the restaurant’s impending closure has been so hard on him and other staffers.
I am one of dozens that consider Danise to be a second mom. She’s funny and kind, hardworking and strong. She donates to charities and nonprofits. She welcomes the Salvation Army weekly to take hundreds of pounds of food for the needy. She has a bleeding heart for everyone she meets and makes every single person feel special. She doesn’t give second chances; she gives fourth, fifth and sixth chances. She works more hours a week than any restaurant owner in town. She’s a mentor, she’s a teacher, a mother, and to some, a savior.
I’ve seen her give rehabilitated citizens a chance at a new life. I’ve even seen her bail people out of jail and help them back on their feet if they mess up. She has literally allowed employees who have lost their homes to live with her in her own house until they figure something out. She’s paid people’s rent. She’s brought us food. When I showed up to work with holes in my shoes, she asked me what size I wear. Just two months ago, she bought a bartender pants. She’s thrown free baby showers in the restaurant. She’s hosted celebrations of life at cost just to ease the pain of others. She’s spent hours arranging flowers for regular customers. She’s visited us at the hospital — hell, she’s even picked up some of us from the hospital. Dave has literally sewn our clothes back together with his bare hands.
Have you ever enjoyed a chocolate-covered strawberry at our brunch? Well, Danise showed up every Sunday at 4:30 a.m. to hand dip it for you. I’ve had hundreds of people travel long distances to visit the restaurant, but as time goes on I’ve realized just as many travel just to see Danise. She has made every single person that has worked for her better.
Danise thanks her staff and supporters for keeping IRPR open so long.
“They were amazing during the flood [of 2008]. We got back up and running in 42 days, all from the help of them and everybody else in the community and all of the construction people. Then they had to go through COVID, and then the derecho. I swear to God, they’re the most resilient people I know. Crazy resilient, and crazy, crazy, crazy hard workers.”
Management have already contacted all customers with upcoming events scheduled at the restaurant to ensure they understand the situation. Special events, brunches and service will go off without a hitch up until the final day, Danise promises.
“We’re planning on going full steam ahead. I don’t want anybody to panic about their parties. The staff has ensured me that they will stay; that’s how we picked the last day,” she said. “Full steam ahead, finish with a bang.”
After the doors are closed and the kitchen equipment sold off, Danise plans to step away from the restaurant business. While she imagined a few more years serving meals in the old power plant, there’s certainly a silver lining to semi-retirement.
“I’m not gonna lie,” she said. “I’m kind of gonna wonder what it’s like to sleep in on a Sunday and not have to wake up at 4 a.m. and dip strawberries.”
