Nick Scozzafava has no idea if there’s a line-up outside. It’s his deli’s grand opening late last month, and he’s been losing sleep about it for weeks. He’s had no idea how much to prep, or cheese to buy. When he finally steps out the front door to see if anyone showed-up, a crowd lets out a modest cheer 一 most are too far down the street to see him.
He breaks into a grin, and there are rounds of hugs between him and staff members. He disappears back inside, and they string up a red ribbon.
Around 10 minutes before the Scozzafava’s Deli opens its doors for the first time, the lineup has made it down the block. The person at the front of the queue has been waiting there for five hours. At the back of the line, Jackson Duffus is settling in for the long haul. He waited around two and a half hours at one of the Scozzafava’s Deli pop-up events last September.
“Its worth the wait,” he says.
Mike (The Mammoth) Schmidt was the first in line at the very first pop-up. He was also first in line at every pop-up thereafter. He’s second in line today, breaking his undefeated streak. He’s still been waiting there for four hours. He brought a lawn chair. At the time of the original pop-up in August 2022, Schmidt had no idea who Nick Scozzafava was.
“I just really love sandwiches,” Schmidt says.
Scozzafava himself says he has no idea what he did to create this amount of attention. He thinks it must be something about the approachability of Italian food. He returns outside with a comically large pair of scissors. He sets in place the aptly named sandwich board for the first time, and rushes behind the deli counter.
“A sandwich is so easy, it’s simple. Who doesn’t want a sandwich?”
The store opening was a labour of love, with emphasis on the labour. It took roughly four months for Scozzafava to do the renovations by hand. He spent most of that time still working full-time as an electrician, leaving to work at the deli in the evening.
“All summer, all day, all night. I slept in here, and I live two blocks away,” Scozzafava says.
He had wanted it that way. Two years ago, Scozzafava decided not to buy a house in case he decided to open up the deli. When the time came, he was inspired by an interview with the owner of Lucalis, who had also built out the New York Pizzaria by hand. Scozzafava had refused to sign a lease unless the landlord agreed to let him do the work himself.
“I couldn’t have given this, and not been involved. I built everything. I built the bench, the tables, like everything.”
Scozzafava had been thinking about sandwiches for years. When he made them for himself and a roommate, he wrapped them in wax paper, so they looked like they’d come from a deli. When Uncle Paulies opened up in Los Angeles, he was inspired. It was everything he loved, but cool. He wanted to do that.
Eight years later, he had a chance meeting with Thomas Dahlgren, owner of the award-winning cocktail bar Missy’s This That, at a mutual friend’s wedding. The sommelier/bar owner was convinced by the young man’s delicatessen dreams, and decided to let him host a pop-up: a one-day-only affair spent slinging sandwiches. It was the shot Scozzafava had been waiting years for.
“It was almost catastrophic,” Scozzafava says.
A short stint as a line cook in high school wasn’t enough to prepare Scozzafava to run a kitchen. Several decades in construction had seemingly washed away his knife skills, and they struggled to keep up with the demand of a grand total of 70 sandwiches.
In the wake of the disastrous first day, Scozzafava’s Deli succeeded anyway.
They were quickly selling over 200 sandwiches an event and straining the limitations of the space, forcing them to move to a location with an industrial-grade kitchen: Pizzaface, on 17th Avenue. The greater supply quickly met a much greater demand. While the first event was attended by mostly friends and family, social media spiraled the pop-up’s popularity far past Scozzafava’s inner circle.
“I would look out the back, because I couldn’t even come out front, I was just too shy, but I would poke my head around and be like ‘I don’t know anyone in line,’” he says.
They broke their record with 400 sandwiches sold in the span of two hours, still leaving people in line left unfed. It was their breaking point. Even in an industrial grade kitchen, they were hitting their limits. Scozzafava would be frying chicken cutlets for five hours before the pop-up’s door’s opened. They were running out of room for cheese.
“I had cheese in fridges all over the city. We’d buy like 14 pails of fresh cheese at a time, I didn’t have anywhere to store it. People I know, I’d have to ask like ‘Can I put a couple pails of cheese in your fridge?’”
Scozzafava reached out to a number of restaurant owners all over the city seeking advice, and he was met with unanimous support for opening up his own location. He formed a fast friendship with the couple behind Class Clown Hamburgers, whom he texted for reassurance nearly every day in the weeks leading up to the grand opening.
“It’s just scary. Opening a restaurant is freaky,” Scozzafava said. “ People quit their jobs to work here. Feels like a lot of pressure on me.”
On the day of their grand opening, Scozzafava once again broke a record, selling a full 500 sandwiches. At time of publication, the deli has sold out every day since.
Scozzafava’s Deli is located at 1004 17 Ave. S.W. They are open Tuesday through Sunday, and open their doors at 11 a.m. sharp. We recommend getting there early, as there will likely be a line out front.
Nick Scozzafava’s reacts to seeing the lineup outside //PHOTO BY: Kobe Tulloch
