BATTLING A BLACK HOLE
Local restaurant owners aim to tackle black hole spaces with creative new concepts
Chef Scott Downey has opened a restaurant in the Ledgeview Centre near the legislature called The Butternut Tree. Despite the room’s stunning views of the river valley, restaurants have come and gone from the space. Downey is one of a handful of top restaurateurs trying to change the fortunes of supposedly cursed locations.
It’s fall in Edmonton and a view of the shimmering gold of the river valley is much coveted. Chef Scott Downey hopes that spectacular vista, combined with a stellar kitchen, will lure diners in droves to his chic new eatery, The Butternut Tree.
But Downey, who has an impressive culinary pedigree and more than a little charm, is taking a big risk. Located in Oliver, close to the Alberta legislature, the site has struggled to retain a restaurant and has a reputation as a bit of a black hole — money goes in, but it never comes out.
Businesspeople with other successful eateries, including Norman Campbell of Normand’s and Tony Saporito of Nello’s in St. Albert, opened well-reviewed restaurants in the stunning space between 2000 and 2013, only to retreat. Breathtaking view notwithstanding, the 3,500-square-foot space tucked inside the Ledgeview Centre (9707 110th St.) has sat empty for long periods of time.
The Ledgeview Centre isn’t the only seemingly perfect location in Edmonton that has persistently felled tenants. The Metals Building, on the corner of 104th Street and 101st Avenue, would appear, at first glance, to have a prime downtown location going for it. But four restaurants have come and gone in the last five years, including Ric’s Grill and most recently Stage 104. A few months back, in a move that had some shaking their heads, Bodega Highlands tackled another cursed space on 112th Avenue and 65th Street. The space has chased out four other restaurant occupants since 2010.
What’s the deal? Some of these locations have had top-notch talent in the kitchen and proprietors with a solid track record. If good food and location can’t fill the space with happy chatter, what else can? Are there stubborn, chain-rattling ghosts that haunt particular spaces in Edmonton, rendering them unable to survive? And if so, where does one find an exorcist?
Make no mistake: It’s not easy to run a restaurant. Oft-quoted American statistics claim 80 per cent of new restaurants are out of business in five years. The owners who succeed often do so with the odds stacked against them, which in Edmonton includes pricey downtown rents of up to $45 per square foot, minimum wage hikes, stiff parking rates and high labour turnover. Margins are notoriously slim — restaurants turning a profit of three per cent are thought to be exceedingly lucky.
Though location is regularly cited as the most important key, it’s no guarantee. Take the Metals Building (10190 104th St.), in the heart of the burgeoning downtown restaurant district. Trendy eateries from Tzin to the Blue Plate Diner are long-term neighbours, the nearby Rogers Place is a draw for pre-game diners. The space oozes character, with wood floors and a brick-walled interior.
But the last tenant, Kyle Jacober of Stage 104, said the building is not the slam dunk you might imagine. It has an awkward entrance with a vestibule and a flight of stairs that must be negotiated before you can get to the front door of the restaurant.
“The steps, the hallway, it’s not naturally a warm way to enter a restaurant,” said Jacober, who opened in the space in the summer of 2015 and closed it less than two years later. “It’s beautiful inside, but there is something about it that doesn’t captivate anybody. Maybe it’s the layout.”
Jacober brought in an expert who said it would take a $1.5-million renovation to make the cavernous 6,000-square-foot space work.
“People come in and they want to take a shortcut and be low-budget, and that’s what we did,” Jacober said, adding that he and his partner were under-resourced for the effort. “But really you’ve got to redesign it so that it’s interesting and intriguing.”
Jacober also doubts an independent operator can succeed in a space the size of the Metals Building, which has roughly 160 seats. A high-profile location does matter, but so does the business model.
“A restaurant of that size needs to be a big-brand restaurant like an Earls, or run by one of the big operators who has the marketing and the deep pockets to make sure it’s full. You’re paying a high premium rent for that location, and that kind of rent probably doesn’t fit with the independent nature of 104th Street,” said Jacober, who added that leasing costs totalled $23,000 monthly at his former restaurant.
Jacober is not tempted to try his luck with another restaurant in another location.
“We will never go back,” he said. “It’s the worst business in the world.”
Running a restaurant makes cage fighting look like a pleasant way to spend an evening. To understand why some operators risk bankruptcy and humiliation in an industry designed to pummel, you have to understand chefs. Often, they grew up in a household with a nonna or poppa who dolloped out dumplings with love. Making people happy with food is in a chef’s DNA — they glimmer with glee if you swoon over their handcrafted raviolo.
In the same way having a baby defies economic good sense, a restaurant is not a purely businesslike venture. It’s not just about crunching the numbers.
“You have to have that passion and that game plan,” said Casey McClelland, a leasing agent with Colliers International who, along with colleagues Mike Hoffert and Kevin Glass, put together The Butternut Tree deal for the new landlord of Ledgeview Centre, Hungerford Developments. “I’ve done deals with a group that we were a little concerned about, and then they knock it out of the park because they leave it all out there. They have to love what they do, and you can tell when they don’t.”
But even with drive and a good business plan, things can go wrong. Tony Saporito makes tomato sauce out of pure passion, and he was already running a successful eatery, Nello’s, when he bought into the Ledgeview Centre in 2013. Saporito’s father Nello started the St. Albert eatery in 2002 before he took it over in 2010. It receives regular accolades for its food and service by sources including the St. Albert Chamber of Commerce. When he took his expanded concept, titled Antonio’s by Nello, to the Ledgeview, Saporito was confident enough to sink $150,000 into a new kitchen. He expected the view and his family’s reputation for excellent food and generous portions would signal success.
It didn’t. Saporito says the Ledgeview location is tricky. It’s on the second floor, so it’s not visible from the street, and it’s also easy to miss a key turn from 109th Street to 97th Avenue.
“People would be driving around and calling because they couldn’t find it, and the next thing you know, they’re on the other side of the bridge,” Saporito said. “And there is so much competition, so many restaurants.”
Saporito found himself in repeated disputes with the former building owner over issues from parking to signage. He said he could have made a go of the space with better support from the former ownership.
“It would have taken time, but it was there,” he said wistfully, like a lover mourning the one that got away. “At Christmas, with all the lights at the legislature, it’s probably the best view of any restaurant there is in Edmonton.”
So if a quality owner and a beautiful space have not spelled success — repeatedly — why would anybody take over a black hole? Samuel Johnson was talking about remarriages when he called them a “triumph of hope over experience.” You could say the same about a restaurant.
Having a restaurant is a dream that proves irresistible for some chefs. They imagine happy customers in a hopping space, appointed with just the right lighting and music, and redolent with the smell of comfort food. Indeed, the compelling dream of creating a memorable experience for diners has kept partners Chris Mena and chef Lino Oliveira toiling over their food businesses for nearly 10 years.
The duo owns Sabor, Bodega Tapas Bar at Sabor and Urbano Pizza Co. In 2016, they also decided to take over an abandoned ItalianTunisian joint in Highlands at 6509 112th Ave. In the beginning, they saw it as a commissary for their catering business — but once the duo stepped inside, they were bewitched by the space.
“We said, ‘Hey, this is a goodlooking space and it would be a shame not to turn it into a tapas bar,’ ” Mena recalls, noting rent in Highlands is way cheaper than downtown. “Lino is an artist, and we have the talent to be able to see things.”
The two had grown up in the area, and they knew the neighbourhood and its patrons. The partners were certain they could sell a concept that concentrated on delicious but modest wines and delightful but reasonable small plates.
The partners smudged with sage “to get rid of the bad energy,” said Mena, whose mother brought in her priest to bless the dubious space. They also executed a facelift, something the most recent owners, Olio d’Oliva and Creole Envie, hadn’t bothered to do. Highlands Bodega debuted with cowhide bench seating and a charming backyard patio in the summer of 2016. The joint has been jumping ever since, expanding its service from evening tapas to include brunch on weekends.
Renovating is of the utmost importance if you plan to take over a cursed location, said local restaurant designer Joe Johnson of Workspace, the firm behind Daniel Costa’s runaway successes on Jasper Avenue: Corso 32, Bar Bricco and Uccellino. Renovating puts your own stamp on the space.
“If a new operator is coming in, it’s all about the branded experience,” Johnson said. “This is why Dan Costa does well: It’s about the space, but it’s also about the ambience, right down to the music and the quality of the glasses and the lighting and the food and the staff.”
What Johnson is talking about is creating a restaurant culture. Yes, it’s the chef’s vision, but it’s also his apron. It’s the price point and perceived value. It’s the wine and the wait staff, but it’s also about the box patrons take their leftovers home in.
At The Butternut Tree, leftovers are placed in a microwave-safe
When Downey decided to put The Butternut Tree in the Ledgeview space, he was well aware of its reputation. But he was attracted by the lower rent (roughly half of Jasper Avenue) and the fact Tony Saporito had already donated a beautiful kitchen. Downey studied at the Culinary Institute of America in New York and worked at the city’s prestigious Daniel restaurant, as well as Noma in Copenhagen under Rene Redzepi. He’s a hot chef — but he knows that’s not all that’s required.
“I knew some of the owners and chefs at the previous places and had some insight about why it didn’t work for them,” said Downey, who specializes in Canadian cuisine. “And a big part of it was parking. So I addressed that right off the bat, and that was a big part of negotiating the lease.”
With 12 free stalls beneath the building and another 18 just a couple of doors north, Downey feels confident patrons can check that off their list of concerns. Downey also renovated the 60-seat space, bringing in rustic wide-plank flooring, butcher block tables and cottage-style seating. Guests are invited to walk into the wall-towall glass kitchen area and observe chefs at work. Downey shakes their hands and welcomes them personally.
“We’re focused on showing people what kind of products are from Canada, and how we change our menu frequently,” Downey said. “Keeping it fresh and new all the time will entice people to come in and try us. And though we’re not in the heart of Jasper Avenue, we’re only a couple of minutes away.”
It remains to be seen whether The Butternut Tree will break the curse of the Ledgeview Centre. For every failure you could have predicted, there is a surprising success story. An off-the-beaten-path location isn’t necessarily a deterrent — folks drive to Beaumont for Chartier, and to an industrial park for Cafe Linnea.
McClelland, the leasing agent, said it’s not uncommon for the third or fourth iteration of a space to be the one that sticks. Downey also spent some money on marketing. That and a little bit of pixie dust may just do the trick.
Workspace’s Johnson said it can be difficult to figure out just what sort of magic is involved in a successful restaurant. There is a kind of alchemy involved, and it defies definition.
“Having a gifted chef and a wonderful menu plays a part in having a successful restaurant, but it doesn’t always work,” he said. “Sometimes something is amiss, and you can’t always put your finger on it.”