https://twitter.com/donnelly_b/status/1435641373487685639?s=20
Since the summer, I have been using the lunch line at Jimmy the Greek (in First Canadian Place) as a crude measure for the reopening of the CBD in downtown Toronto. It is partially a joke. Those of you who know me will know I am a fan of Jimmy the Greek (and large filling lunches in general). But at the same time, it is a probably a fairly decent (but again crude) proxy for the utilization rate of the offices that sit above and around Jimmy. Pre-COVID the lunch lines were always long and there was usually nowhere to sit. In the spring of this year, I was often the only person there, single-handedly keeping Jimmy alive. But things picked up throughout the summer months and there was a significant spike this week, following Labor Day (see above tweet). This was the spike that many/most of us were predicting and it showed through in the Jimmy the Greek Reopening Index.
Yesterday City Council voted 34 to 3 in favor of allowing more food trucks on the streets of Toronto (125 of them to be exact).
Food trucks will be allowed to roam and park in pay-and-display spots on city streets as well as in private lots. However, the total number of trucks can’t exceed 125; they’re not allowed to park for more than 3 hours in one spot; and they can’t park within 50 metres of a restaurant.
Most supporters of food trucks in this city are calling it a baby step forward. A lot of the reforms that they had been advocating for were not achieved with this vote. Frankly, I find it surprising how long this discussion has been going on for and how we’re still at the point of baby steps.
But perhaps even more surprising, is the fact that I agree with Rob Ford on this issue:
Mayor Rob Ford advocated for less regulation, arguing that people who make a date to go to a restaurant don’t change their mind and buy a hot dog when they pass a cart. “I think putting all this red tape around people, that’s not very friendly,” he said. “This is free enterprise. This is capitalism. Let them sell what they want and let the customer decide.”
The concern from the other side is that food carts are going to threaten Toronto’s restaurant industry and turn our streets into the wild west of food service–hence the 50m rule. But I actually think the opposite could end up proving to be true. I think food trucks could end up empowering entrepreneurs.
When I used to live in Philadelphia, which is a city with a thriving food truck scene (people publish food truck guides), I practically lived off the things. For breakfast I would go to this couple who barely spoke English and they would make me an egg and cheese sandwich for $2.50. And for lunch, I would go to the guy some people called the “nice little Mexican boy” for a burrito. It was somewhere around $5. And his food truck was so small that I had to duck while ordering food so I didn’t hit my head.
At first I actually found it odd to be consuming egg sandwiches and burritos from trucks that would pack up and leave at the end of the day. I kept thinking I was going to get sick. But I warmed to the idea and learned to love them. As does everybody else.
In fact, we loved our food trucks so much that when Renzo Piano–the Italian Pritzker Prize-winning architect–came to Penn to talk about how he had been retained to redesign the School of Design’s building, somebody stood up and asked: “How are you going to accommodate the food trucks in your design?” Renzo responded perfectly and said something along the lines of: “I’m Italian. Don’t worry, I will provide for the food.”
But my point of all this is to say that instead of looking at food trucks as a threat to our restaurant industry, we should be looking at them as a way to empower more entrepreneurs to take the risk on starting something for themselves–many of which could end up being new Canadians. The “nice little Mexican boy” also barely spoke English and looked young enough to be in high school. But he was a business owner.
Starting a restaurant is a risky proposition. You need to lease space, you need to buy equipment, and so on. And everybody knows the failure rate is high. But what if you could test that killer recipe of yours on a few hundred people at lunch in front of First Canadian Place? That sounds like a much easier proposition to me.
So what I hope happens is that people in Toronto start to see food trucks, not as a threat to our restaurant scene, but as an opportunity to get more entrepreneurs into it and make our city even more vibrant. Because if we do that, I’m positive we’ll end up with an even better restaurant scene than what we have today in our great city.
This past Friday, Paul Reichmann passed away in Toronto. He was 83. For those in the real estate business, Paul was a legend. He was the developer behind landmark office projects such as First Canadian Place in Toronto, World Financial Center in New York and Canary Wharf in London.
He was the man behind Olympia & York, which by the late 80s was one of the largest real estate development firms in the world, making the Reichmann family the 7th richest family in the world. Their net worth reached $12.8 billion at its peak. In 1990 they owned 8% of New York’s commercial office space. This was more than twice as much as the Rockefellers.
But what makes the Reichmann story so fascinating is the beginning and end of it.
Paul was born in Vienna, but his family fled the Nazis and came to Toronto like many others at the time. He and his brothers setup a tiling company called Olympia Tile and its this business that eventually led them into real estate.
Paul became known for taking on huge risks. He believed firmly in the principles of risk and reward.
I remember when I was at Penn hearing stories about Olympia & York from the Dean at the time, Gary Hack (a Canadian). He used to tell us about the phenomenal amounts of leverage that O&Y used to take on in order to scale.
But ultimately it was this leverage that brought them down. In 1992, Olympia & York went bankrupt and the family was left with a net worth of less than $100 million. Still a great sum of money, but nowhere near the $12.8 billion they once had. The New York Times called it “one of the most astonishing financial collapses in history.”
But in many ways, this is not an uncommon developer story. Real estate development is risky. And Paul did eventually rebuild. Not to where he was before, but he did come back. He became Chairman of Canary Wharf in London and went on to develop the tallest tower in Latin America.
Last week Toronto lost one of its most prolific real estate minds. Paul was also largely part of an era that no longer exists. The real estate business in the 80s wasn’t as institutionalized as it is today. It was filled with larger than life individuals, such as Paul, taking on huge personal risks. It must have been an exciting time to be in real estate.
Thanks for everything you’ve done for Toronto, Paul.