I was driving through Bloomfield this morning and noticed that another storefront is vacant on Liberty Avenue. It’s one or two doors down from Pittsburgh’s finest pizzeria, Pizza Italia. I believe it was an antique shop or one of those skitchy little independent “art galleries” that folded. But seeing another vacant storefront on Liberty Avenue saddens me. There was a dog groomer a few doors up from there that recently relocated to Penn Avenue in Garfield, and that storefront remains vacant. The building on Liberty Avenue that housed Gordon’s Shoes for decades still sits vacant after the business relocated to the Waterfront. Liberty Avenue in Bloomfield is one of the finest neighborhood business corridors in Pittsburgh. It’s right up there with E. Carson, Murray Avenue and Brookline Blvd., and in many respects is more appealing than any one of those (if you can look beyond the red, white and green painted parking meters and curbs). Something needs to be done to transform Liberty Avenue into the vibrant business corridor that it should be and to prevent more check cashing places from moving in.

The problem with the revitalization that has occurred on streets like Butler St. in Lawrenceville and Penn Ave in Garfield, and partly the reason why so many storefronts in Bloomfield are vacant, is that most of the new businesses are of the artsy-fartsy variety: art galleries, offbeat clothing stores and coffee shops. Although the proprietors of these shops are certainly not in business solely for the financial rewards, one has to realize that these are not the types of businesses that generate steady income. People that spend money regularly on things like art pieces and custom designed clothing tend to be wealthy or at least have deeper pockets than the average Joe who frequents the Tobacco Outlet. Generally speaking, these wealthier types tend not to shop on Butler Street and are hesitant to park their BMW’s on Penn Avenue in Garfield (with good reason). My point is that, while these artsy-fartsy stores are great signs of vitality, creativity and commitment in and to the city, as well as a tangible sign that the American dream of owning a business is both possible and alive, these types of businesses don’t offer long-term stability.

But fear not, for Anthony has the answer, and it’s incredibly simple. One word: sandwich. To all those entrepreneurs considering opening up another beaded jewelry shop with a hip name, open a shop with the sole mission of making a good sandwich instead. One blatant void in the landscape of Pittsburgh is the existence of establishments where a person can get a good freakin’ sandwich. Sure, there’s Peppi’s and Primanti’s, but a person grows tired of cheesesteaks and slaw-n-fries after a while. (I hear there are a few good sandwich places in Oakland, but I stay away from that urinal of higher education as much as possible so I can’t speak to that.) And everyone loves a good sandwich. You’ve heard people say that they don’t care for onions or liver or meatloaf, but I defy you to remember one instance when you heard someone say that they hate sandwiches.

This is so simple that it’s almost baffling that no one thought of it before. Actually, other people have tried it before but they too have gone under after making fatal mistakes, which I will now point out. The key to making a sandwich place successful is to make tasty sandwiches and nothing else. The trap that proprietors of good sandwich endeavors fall into is that they bite off more than they can chew. (No pun intended.) A shop may offer a variety of delicious sandwiches, but then one day someone comes in and asks for a salad. “Ah, salad. We should carry salads for those people that don’t want a tasty sandwich. While we’re at it, let’s offer soup as well. Maybe a lottery machine!” And that thinking marks the beginning of the end. While the salad/soup menu expansion seems like a good idea, it is not—it costs money, confuses the sandwich customer and diverts from the mission. All the sandwich greats never lost their focus on the thing that made them great–the sandwich.

All people want and can’t get is a good Goddamned sandwich—not a wrap, not a panini, not a bagel, not fast-food—a sandwich, fairly quickly and at a reasonable price. It’s not hard to do. For example, any real Pittsburgher knows that you haven’t lived until you’ve had a hamburger from Tessarro’s in Bloomfield. That little place gets so crowded every night that there’s not enough room in there to fart. They have great food, but it’s nothing fancy. They don’t even have french fries. Their success comes down to a wood-fired grill. They don’t do anything fancy to their chicken or ground meat. Everything derives its flavor from the wood grill and therefore everything pretty much tastes the same there. But it’s simple and it’s good and people love it. Tessarro’s illustrates my thesis perfectly—people love good sandwiches, and it’s easy to make a good sandwich.

There you have it. The answer my friend is lying between two pieces of bread. So if you are contemplating opening up your own business with minimal start-up costs in one of the city’s neighborhoods, drop that canvas and paintbrush, and pick up a butter knife and a jar of mayo. You can be just as creative with a palette of condiments as you can with a set of Winsor & Newtons. Help save our city.

And don’t be stingy with the cheese.

This entry was posted on Thursday, March 3rd, 2005 at 2:38 pm and is filed under Lawrenceville, Bloomfield, Commentary. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.