The Food Desert
Chapter 14

Copyright© 2019 by qhml1

There was a big media event the day before we opened, covered by the local papers and every television station in the city. I introduced the team that would be running the store, from Mrs. Hernandez down to every part-time worker. We toured the store, the wide aisles, the well-stocked shelves, the shining produce department, the state of the art butcher shop.

The media was suitably impressed and the clips looked good on television. There was a crowd standing at the door an hour before we were scheduled to open. Mrs. Hernandez and I stood at the entrance and welcomed as many as we could, personally, giving them coupons good for opening day only. We’d had a thousand printed up and were out by noon. It slowed down a bit after the first month, but still did a booming business.

Two months later the pastry shop opened, again to good press. The Grandmas made a personal appearance, stunned to find they were celebrities in their own right. Oprah had heard about them, invited them on to her show. She seemed amazed at the story, especially about my involvement. Grandma Greely grinned. “Who knew a flat tire, collard greens and an extraordinarily nice white boy would put us on the path we are now. Steve Moore was gift from God and one of the nicest men I’ve ever met. And ladies, he’s single.”

Oprah grinned and said I sounded like a catch, and the crowd made appreciative noises when my picture popped up on the screen.

A month later, a fast food type Chinese restaurant opened to immediate success.

Then a lady walked into the store and asked me for a moment of my time to present me with an opportunity. She was tall, well developed, her hair cut extremely short with a small part on the side. Her large dark eyes were expressive over a cute little nose and small mouth full of gleaning white teeth. She seemed amused when it took me a minute to speak coherently.

I invited her over to the pastry shop, and over a cup of coffee and a pastry she made her pitch.

“I want to open a restaurant. Not just a restaurant, a soul food restaurant. My grandmother was from one of the bayous of Louisiana and she taught me Cajun and Creole. My other grandmother was from the Low Country of South Carolina and taught me all her recipes, even from the Gullah. My grandfathers were from France and Mexico, and I learned from them as well. I’ve worked in LA. New Orleans, Charlotte and Atlanta in different restaurants and learned from all of them. My food will be different, soul food with an international twist.”

Well, that explained her coloring, a light caramel. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want to open it in this area, specifically, right here. I could take over both empty storefronts left and turn it into a cozy place that still has a good bit of room.”

“If you want my blessing you have it. Contact the management firm I use and start the paperwork.”

For the first time she looked less confident. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t have nearly enough money. I’ve saved some, but it is still less than half of what I need to do it right and I don’t want to scrimp.”

I could see where this was going. “I’m guessing you want me to invest in you, be one of your partners?”

She shook her head. “No. I want you to be my only partner. Too many cooks and so on. If I have to argue, I want it be with just one person.” Sandra handed me a portfolio.

“Here, my credentials, my financial report, the estimates of the cost of getting it up and running, everything I could think of you might need. If there’s anything else you need I’ll get it for you.”

I took the papers. “Well, it looks like you’ve thought of everything.”

“I hope so. One more thing. You’ll own 51% so any final decision will be yours alone. I will insist in turn that I have complete control of the kitchen and staff. Think about it. It’s a good investment, my dream and I’ll make you a lot of money.”

 
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