Intriguing Rathole

I made pizza at church last night. Every Tuesday, they have a big youth-oriented (i.e. “musically loud and annoying”) service, so I was called in to do my thing. I should add that it was a fantastic service, apart from the pain it caused my middle-aged ears.

I made a total of 14 pies, and of course, after they were gone, somebody wanted one. We should have unloaded 18.

I bought a slice for myself; I was starving. I still can’t believe how good this stuff is. Most Sicilian is like wet bricks. Mine is so light it practically floats.

People kept coming in to the kitchen to view the freak of nature who made the pizza. They could not believe it was made from scratch. One girl keeps asking me for tips on making it. I told her my cheesecake was even better, and she asked if I had a son about seventeen years old, so she could marry him.

This morning I checked out the $20,000 pizzeria from Craigslist. It’s a former Jerry & Joes. It makes a Domino’s look like Mama Leone’s. I’d guess the square footage is about 600. Seriously.

Jerry & Joes is a small chain. I’ve only had their pizza once, about ten years ago. It was actually pretty good. They claim they use real cheese.

The place is a real rathole, which makes it all the more tempting. One person could run this place solo. I could open up, limit myself to the lunch crowd, and sell pies four hours a day. If it looked promising, hire lackeys and extend the hours. If not, close the business permanently when I get bored.

The oven is an old Blodgett. It holds six 16″ pies or eight 14″ pies. It goes to 650°, so it will satisfy my temperature needs. The stones are cracked; I don’t know if that matters.

They have a three-door wall refrigerator about nine feet long and seven feet tall, plus a home fridge in a corner. They have two stainless prep tables, plus a three-door refrigerated prep center. The mixer is an ancient Hoover that will accept 22 pounds of flour. That’s irritating, since the smallest commercial bags are 25 pounds.

There is no range, so if I made garlic rolls, I’d have to prepare the sauce at home. Not a major issue. I could make a few gallons at one weekly session and refrigerate it.

The kitchen is pretty filthy, and it’s not what you would call aesthetically pleasing. The tile is messed up. The suspended ceiling is grubby. The whole place needs a good scrubbing. The owner left the coolers full of rotting stuff. That will start smelling nice in a few more days. I’m surprised it doesn’t reek already.

The shop is divided into two areas. The outer area is about ten feet by twelve, and it has a counter and two small tables. The rest is kitchen and staff bathroom. One nice thing about this place is that there is no way for diners to see the beat-up kitchen in any detail. Pretty up the outer area, and you have a fine dining experience. The rear part has to be clean, but it doesn’t have to be cute.

I found the real poop on the lease. The owner’s son speaks English, and he gave me the lowdown. The rent is $975, and it can’t go up, because there are seven years left on the lease. They considered that a selling point. I consider it a negative. Commercial rents are going down, and it’s hard to find tenants. If I take this place, I’m stuck with that lease. I guess I can incorporate and skip out if the business fails, but that seems lame. I suppose it isn’t, though. The whole point of incorporation is to limit liability and encourage people to run businesses without risking their personal wealth.

Here’s how I see it. It’s not worth $20K. The only value comes from the equipment and the community’s knowledge that pizza can be found at this location. I don’t get their recipes. I don’t get franchise support. I don’t get the benefit of their reputation. I have to buy into what may well be a sucker lease. I think this place would be a good buy at maybe $5K, assuming everything runs and that there is some way to avoid getting hooked on the lease.

This is a lot of fun, but I also have an idea for a Christian book, so maybe good judgment will win the day, and I’ll be satisfied making pizzas at church.

For a while now, I’ve felt as though I were on rails, traveling toward pizzeria ownership. I wondered if God was in it, because so many strange pizza-related things were happening. Maybe he’s behind this, but maybe he’s not, and if he’s not, it’s a very stupid idea. I’m going to try hard to determine his will and follow it, regardless of where that leads.

Like Psalm 127 says, “Except the Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it: except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain.” I don’t want to get involved with any more activities that God will not bless and cause to succeed.