Restaurants take big hit as pandemic intensifies
Ivan Gil-Silva’s dream was about to come true. The Argentinian immigrant had scrimped, saved, sweated and hustled to open Mi Empanada in Lawrenceville.
The 34-year-old and his partner, Rachel Jenkins, had secured a location on Butler Street and slogged through a morass of contracts, insurance, floor plans, permits, plumbing, wiring, utilities, equipment and renovations until finally, on March 13, they had a grand opening party at the restaurant.
“It was very gratifying and exciting. We were super busy, and we did really well,” Mr. GilSilva said.
“We thought we’d be open last July, so we were paying rent and loans for the last six months and really struggling toward the end. We basically barely had enough and had we not opened we would have defaulted.”
At the end of a gangbusters opening weekend, word came from Harrisburg that restaurants and bars would be closed immediately to try to stem the spread of COVID-19, the new coronavirus. Only takeout would be allowed.
There are always unexpected delays and financial emergencies that crop up in opening a restaurant, a business with notoriously narrow profit margins. But a pandemic was not in anyone’s business plan.
“For all the things that had gone wrong, one has to go right, and then the corona hits,” Mr. Gil-Silva said. “We’re out here dodging bullets, then they send an atomic bomb.”
His family has struggled before. His parents fled Cordoba, Argentina, nearly 20 years ago
after that country’s economy cratered into its own Great Depression. The two research scientists came to Pittsburgh with four children and $3,000, all that they had left after their savings were decimated.
His parents found work at Carnegie Mellon University while Mr. Silva attended Pittsburgh Allderdice High School and Duquesne University. He was working as a sound technician when three years ago he started a side gig making and selling empanadas, the beloved South American staple. That grew into pop-ups, catering and, eventually, a restaurant.
As Mi Empanada’s sales plunged, Mr. Gil-Silva and Ms. Jenkins pivoted.
“We adapted the graband-go model. Because of that we’re able to perform our duties,” he said. “We were bracing for it ... and we’re taking very serious steps to promote delivery.
“We’re used to chaos. Our business model is basically if I have a dollar, I need to make two more,” he said. “But we have to win every time. Every move has to be a winning move.
“Right now, we’re paying our employees, the lights are still on and I’m buying food. So I’m one of the lucky ones.”
Ken Shields followed a strikingly similar path to becoming a restaurateur, and his Off The Rails Barbecue & Drafthouse also had its grand opening just before the governor’s closure orders.
Although he’d had a successful career as an IT professional, Mr. Shields had a passion for cooking and for smoking meats, so he purchased a commercial smoker.
“I figured the worst-case scenario was that I got this nice smoker, but I wanted to do a food truck,” he said.
He started Oakmont Barbecue Co. in 2016 as a popup at community events. He built a loyal following and late that year launched a food truck that has become a regular at breweries, roundups and regional events. He wanted to open a restaurant with some outdoor space but couldn’t find the right property, until early last year.
An old service station in Verona was perfect. Mr. Shields closed on the property in spring 2019 and sunk money into remodeling, a liquor license and environmental testing. A friend did the flooring free of charge. He got the gas, electric, cable and phone installed, but there were plenty of delays.
“It was probably the most stressful year of my life. It had to happen. It couldn’t go any longer,” he said.
Finally, Off The Rails Barbecue & Drafthouse was ready to open in early March.
“It was like, wow, yes! We finally did it, everything we had worked for,” the 52-year-old father of three said. “We had two soft openings and did great both weekends. We had our official opening and did great. Then Sunday, as we’re cleaning up, I get the article that they are shutting down bars and restaurants.
“You’re closing on a great weekend and then BAM! It was pretty deflating. It still is,” Mr. Shields said.
He has one full-time employee who will remain but no work for five part-timers.
“We gotta tread water and work with whoever we gotta work with,” he said, noting that takeout business this past weekend was a bright spot, with 350 orders. That was way down from his opening weekend but OK given the circumstances.
“The orders kept coming in, and we kept lining them up like a little drivethrough curb service,” Mr. Shields said. “People are aware we’re there and have been very supportive.”
Restaurants that managed to open before the COVID-19 crisis hit are trying to stay afloat. Others that were on the verge of opening have been left in the lurch.
Josh Sickels opened Rockaway Pizzeria in White Oak four years ago in a tiny concrete bunker of a pizza shop and quickly garnered regional acclaim for his New York-style pizza. He’d temporarily closed the business last year while he built a new location.
He’d planned to reopen in February, but an 11th hour problem with a Texas equipment vendor caused a delay, and Mr. Sickels had to take a last-minute loan. Late April was his target opening date. All he needed was money from the loan to buy equipment.
“I hadn’t heard from them and was like: What’s going on? What’s happening? The loan officer told me that the corona pandemic made it far too risky to give loans in the current environment. He said they are not giving loans to restaurants at all, and it had nothing to do with me.
“They took away my loan right at the last second, and now I have to revisit what I’m gonna do.”
He said he is filling out an application through the state’s Small Business Association emergency program. The 35-year-old had been doing regular pizza pop-ups at a bar near his Wilkins home, but it has closed.
“I’m currently unemployed with no source of income at all. All the money I had was spent going towards the new place . ... Finally there was a light at the end of the tunnel and then this s--happens.”
Karl Horn’s restaurant is also in a state of suspended animation. He had intentionally slowed business at his popular Tootie’s Famous Italian Beef sandwich shop on the South Side as he prepared to open a second larger location Downtown in Market Square.
Mr. Horn, 40, said his lease was to start on March 1, but it was pushed to April 1 because work on the space was delayed. He’s now trying to negotiate a new date. He had wanted to reopen his South Side location immediately but had trouble getting supplies because of the pandemic. He has since reopened.
“It’s like being in limbo,” he said. “It kinda crushes the spirit.”