A Voice For D.C. Vendors

Onetime Lawyer Offers Burritos and Counsel

The Graffiti on the wall is Arabic, and the English spoken bends to accommodate speakers who've approached it from many different countries-from Ethiopia, Guatemala, Eritrea, and Egypt.

Language is one reason some of these sidewalk merchants say they aren't comfortable behind a podium at a public hearing. People hear the accents and tune them out, they say, dismissing them as immigrants who don't understand bureaucracies that run city streets.

"Big businesses want to shut the vendors down," said Aref Hanifi, who runs the vending depot at 13th and E streets SE.

"Nobody listens to vendors," said Mohammed Masud, shutterbug a hot dog cart for the night. "There is no voice."

On the periphery of this conversation in the depot, where about 45 downtown food vendors park carts each night, is James Tiu, a burrito vendor who's worked the corner of 15th and K streets NW for nine years. The others here make sure he hears everything. Someone repeats the story of a downtown property manager who is installing bicycle racks on the sidewalk; the vendors interpret this as a ploy to drive a vendor away. They ask Tiu what he thinks.

"From a legal standpoint," Tiu offers, "I'd say…"

Tiu likes to say that his opinion is that of just another vendor, one who shares the immigrant's dreams of forging a living from next to nothing, of sweating it out on the streets, making a small business work. But some of the other vendors know better. They know that before he was a vendor, Tiu was a lawyer.

That, some of them think, makes him able to understand the forces they see arrayed against them, and helps him phrase their concerns in a way that makes the people who regulate the city streets listen. That's why, when Hanifi's brother-in-law testifies recently on behalf of food vendors in front of the D.C. Council's Committee on Public Works and Environment, he recited words from a computer printout, words writing for him by Tiu.

Nevertheless, Tiu insists that he does not speak for all vendors, and he's right-it's too diverse a group for that. But he ahs come to be the person quite a few downtown vendors look to for guidance in formulating and articulating their views. Those views generally reflect a sense that regulations are restrictive to their right to free enterprise.

"We have no union, no nothing," said Paulos Yahannes, who operates a hot dog cart near 14th and K streets NW. "Vendors come from different countries, and when we talk, a lot of times we can't come to one conclusion. Everyone has a point of view, and different cultures might trust another, or might not trust another."

But, Yahannes added, "people listen to James. He helps a lot. He could be a good spokesman."

Tiu-the son of a West Virginian physician-told his co-workers at the law firm of McKenna & Cuneo nine years ago that he was quitting to start his own business, he said. He neglected to tell them that his business would start out of a stainless-steel cart two blocks from the firm where Tiu had a private office.

For three years, Tiu had been a regular customer at a sidewalk coffee cart near 15th and K streets. He got to know the vendor and soon got an idea: Meatless burritos, one of his favorite foods, might sell well. The idea of being his own boss gestated for a couple of years, he said, until it got too big to hold back. He found himself hanging out at burrito joints, learning some tricks of the trade. Then he spent his savings ($26,000) on a factory-new cart, quit his job and hit the streets.

"I really questioned if this was the right thing for me," said Tiu, who is married and has a 1-year old daughter. "Nobody goes [easily] from a job where you wear a suit and tie…to selling food on the street."

But the transformation that came after he started toiling in a steaming stainless-steel card was just as significant, he said.

In 1997, after Tiu had spent four years on the street, city regulators shut him down. Meatless burritos, they said, were on the city's list of approved vending foods. For a year and a half, he said he wrote letters, testified, lobbied his cause-and nothing happened. He made ends meet during that time by picking up whatever legal cases he could at the District Courthouse for $50 an hour-"the street vending of the legal world," he said.

Then he sat down at a computer and wrote up suggested amendments to the city's regulations, adding his product to the list of approved foods. He hired a food-safety expert to test his food. He submitted the findings and his draft regulations to the District's Department of Consumer and Regulatory Affairs. Finally, he said, the new regulations were passes.

After that, Tiu said, he began to stay on top of issues that might affect the vending community.

"I've gone on record time and time again to say these people-these vendors, of which I'm one-are the smallest and most valuable business in D.C.," Tiu said. "They're run by people who don't have a lot of resources and, in a of cases, don't have much experience in democracies. What they have is a small amount of money, a large willingness to work and a great desire to be independent. I respect that, and I'm willing to do what's necessary to help them."

At a recent meeting of the National Capital Planning Commission, Tiu showed up with a sheaf of photocopied documents. Included were vending regulations and a copy of the commission's National Capital Urban Design and Security Plan-a proposal that among other things would use reinforced street furniture to enhance security downtown. Tiu was there to tell the commissioners that the plan might disrupt some vendors. He just wanted to make them aware of it, he said.

"America needs small vendors," he said, "to see that someone can come to this country with zero and make it."

That description could fit Tiu's father, who came to the United States from the Philippines. He and his wife had five children-two doctors, one accountant, one lawyer, and one lawyer-vendor. Tiu said it took a while for his parents to get used to the career change, but he said they supported his dream of someday turning his vending cart into a restaurant.

And as long as he's a vendor, he said, he'll try to make sure his adopted profession has someone speaking on behalf of at least a few of its adherents.

"I would say there are a lot of people who would really like to have their own business, one that relies on selling something. And for that business to express the kind of person they are and the values they hold," he said. That's what I believe. That's what vendors do."

Wrap Artist

It's always standing room only at John Rider's place. Mr. Ride operates on of the hottest lunch spots in downtown Washington, a stainless-steel burrito cart at 15th and K Streets NW.

Everyone comes here-K Street lobbyists, their secretaries, furniture movers, landscapers, men in suits and men in cutoff jeans, not to mention the occasional tourist.

At times the line can be a dozen or more deep. Customers say the vegetarian burritos - just beans, rise and cheese - are worth the wait.

A customer orders one, spends a few minutes chatting with Mr. Rider as the order is prepared, then pays Mr. Rider's wife, Ronnie, who stands beneath the cart's green awning and collects the money.

The customers usually carry their food back to their desks. Some eat in a nearby part.

"They're all good people. You get to know them. As time goes on, you don't even have to ask what they want. You just know," Mr. Rider says.

The Honest to Goodness Burritos cart is legendary.

In the mid-1990's, lawyer James Tiu quit his fancy downtown firm to open the cart. Mr. Tiu became a modern-day folk hero, an inspiration for countless K Street office drones itching to escape their cubicles for the entrepreneurial life.

Late last year, Mr. Tiu gave us the cart and moved to West Virginia, where he opened a café. In January, Mr. Rider took over Mr. Tiu's spot at 15th and K.

Mr. Rider graduated from Johnson & Wales University, a cooking school in Providence, RI in 1979. Early in his career, he and his wife moved around the country.

At a restaurant in Atlantic City, NJ, he cooked for entertainers Tom Jones and Liberace. At a Houston country club, he prepared meals for the first President Bush.

The Riders came to the Washington area about 18 years ago. Mr. Rider has been executive chef at the Key Bridge Marriott Hotel in Arlington and has run his own catering business and coffee shop.

In last 1996 he opened his first cart, serving coffee at North Capitol and E streets NW, near the building that houses C-SPAN and the Fox news Channel's Washington bureau.

"I'm an entrepreneur. I like to do my own thing. I don't like having to have a meeting to change things," says Mr. Rider, who is still boyish and energetic at 45.

He still operates the coffee cart. Each weekday, he spends his mornings serving coffee and his afternoons serving burritos.

Yesterday his day began as most weekdays do.

He wakes at 5 a.m. and gets ready for work. He departs his Northern Virginia home about 30 minutes later.

Dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, shorts and sneakers, Mr. Rider travels to a nearby restaurant, where he picks up the food he will serve at the burrito cart. He doesn't prepare his own food because it's took much trouble, he says.

Mr. Rider doesn't transport his own carts, either. Instead, he pays someone to pick them up each day and drop them off at his usual corners.

Mr. Riders works the coffee cart from about 6 a.m. to 10 a.m. Then he heads to 15th and K. where he opens the burrito cart at roughly 10:30 a.m.

Business is slow until about 12:10 P.M. when a line begins to form.

Customers say there is a protocol to ordering from Mr. Rider.

Kelly Dalton, a public-policy specialist for a K Street law firm, compares him to the "Seinfeld" Soup Nazi - only Mr. Rider is much friendlier.

You don't place your order at once, says Ms. Dalton, who brought four interns to the cart yesterday.

Before they left the office, Ms. Dalton briefed the young people on the rules: Tell Mr. Rider what kind of tortilla you want while you are still in line. Then, when you get to the window, tell him what you want in your burrito.

Only novices try to give the whole order at once, she says.

Mr. Rider offers five kinds of tortillas: flour, wheat, spinach, chili and sun-dried tomato. When he ticks off the list to newcomers at the height of the lunch rush, it all sounds like one word.

"Flourwheatspinachchillisundriedtomato?"

A sign above the counter spells out the seven categories of sauces he offers: mildest, mild, barbecue, medium, hot, extra hot and on-fire. Names for finished products include "Jump Up and Kiss Me," "Arizona Gunslinger" and "Dave's Insanity."

Prices range from $3.50 to $5.75, depending on the size of the burrito. Extras such as sour cream and guacamole cost 25 cents.

Mr. Rider's hands are in constant motion during the two-hour lunch rush. Tortillas are steamed. Rice is scooped. Beans are spread. Cheese is sprinkled.

About 2:30, having served about 130 customers, Mr. Rider closes the burrito cart and heads home. He will take the leftover food with him and throw it out.

Beans, rice and tortillas are so inexpensive there's no point in savings them, Mr. Rider says, Plus, he insists on starting with fresh ingredients every morning.

The person who transports his carts will pick them up and take them to a depot where they are thoroughly cleaned every weeknight.

When Mr. Rider arrives home, he exercises. He says he stays in shape so he can keep up with the long lines.

On most evenings he's heading for bed by 8:30.

"He jumps out of bed every morning at 5 and keeps going all day. He has more energy than anyone I know," Mrs. Rider says.

When I was a little kid, I would go to street fairs and it seemed to me that the people having the most fun were the people behind the counter or cash register or behind the dartboards. Since the age of 10 years old, I've always wanted to own and run and operate a small business. I found myself in 1993 working at 15th and I was walking up to a coffee cart at 15th and K streets run by a woman named Jan Segna. I was a big of the burritos they sell here in Washington-a California-style burrito. And so I thought to myself, "Why couldn't you make burritos in a cart and sell them on the street?" I did the research, I got a license and quit my job and worked in the coffee cart for couple of months to help her out and learn the business. I'm sure they [his firm's lawyers] were surprised, but once I was out on the street, many of them for the longest time were my best customers.

Perhaps my biggest inspiration was a person I never met-my grandfather, who was born in China and moved to the Philippines, where my father was born. I never met him, but my dad would tell us stories about the family business-it was a bakery. I liked the fact that your business and your family could coexist: Your family would provide the labor, and the business, in return, would provide the necessary monetary resources for the family.

I didn't realize there was a community of American and Ethiopians and Eritreans and Egyptians and El Salvadorians and Sudanese and Moroccans that are using vending as the first step toward achieving the American dream. This has allowed me to see how much these people value God, their families and America in a way that I would have never gotten working in an office for a law firm.

I was never a bitter attorney. There will be a time when the law is a larger portion of my life, but for the time being I'm involved in this business and I love it.

Meet the Burrito Man

Former Lawyer Returns home to Wheeling, opens restaurant

WHEELING-James Tiu always knew he wanted to be in business for himself. So when the chance came for him to realize even though it meant giving out his practice of law in the nation's capitol.

Tiu opened The Salsa Café last month in Wheeling, his hometown. Prior to that, he operated a burrito cart for 10 years in Washington, D.C., no far from the law firm where he worked for three years after graduating from Xavier University and the University of Cincinnati School of Law.

"Like most people in my generation, I left the Ohio Valley," Tiu said. But after years away from home-first at college and then embarking on his new law career-his yearning for the hills of West Virginia grew.

"I found Wheeling is probably the best place I can imagine to raise a young family," he said. "I'm proud to be a West Virginian, and I hope other people of my generation will take advantage of the wonderful opportunities we have in West Virginia, and Wheeling in particular."

Tiu said it's not that he didn't enjoy being a lawyer; it was just that he wanted to own and operate his own small business a lot more than he wanted to work for a big-city law firm.

"A friend had opened an Espresso cart on the street, and I thought to myself, 'Why couldn't I sell California-style burritos from a street vending cart.' So, that's what I did."

Tiu used his savings to but a food cart and then began selling meatless burritos just blocks from the law firm where he'd once worked. It was going well until the city ordered him to shut down because the rice he used in his burritos wasn't approved for street vending.

For 17 months, he was forced to moonlight as a contract public defend; representing indigent defendants who couldn't afford to pay for legal services while he battles the city's bureaucracy to change the regulations so he could sell his burritos on the streets of Washington.

"It was not the traditional route of opening a small business," Tiu said. "But, in retrospect, without a legal degree I couldn't have stayed in business. I faced many legal and administrative obstacles, and my legal degree helped me (overcome them)."

While he says he couldn't have done it without a law degree in his back pocked, Tiu cautions that just because it worked for him doesn't mean it's a business prerequisite.

More important even than the degrees, he said, is desire.

"Of all the people I saw in Washington, D.C., many were immigrants," he said. "Many of them were no literate in English or even their own language, se they faced tremendous communications problems. I saw that the ones who prospered were the ones who worked hard, who conducted their affairs with integrity and were extremely committed to their businesses.

"And, conversely, some of the most educated people fail in business."

A new business "is like water-it will find its own level," he said. "So will we."

"Starting a small business-especially one that doesn't exist already in a geographic area-is always a leap of faith," he said. "With a lot of prayer, a lot of persistence, I found my own path, and this is where it led me."

He said his wife Patti, was visiting relatives in Wheeling When she spotted the open storefront and leased it on the spot. Returning to Washington, Tiu sold their home in Washington and moved back to Wheeling, where, three months later, they opened The Salsa Café, which, in addition to meatless burritos, also offers tacos, salads, select desserts and a range of beverages.

"I'm tremendously enthusiastic about what's going on in Wheeling," Tiu said. "I think a lot of larger business concerns have overlooked Wheeling and the Ohio Valley markets, and I think that's creating a tremendous opportunity for people of my generation to start, own and commit to a family business.

"Eventually, I think Wheeling will be fill of small businesses, just like it once was…There's going to be real opportunity for that to happen."

Creative Work

More West Virginians Find Rewards In Building Their Own Businesses

The business landscape is changing in West Virginia.

Forty years ago, the Mountain State was rich with heavy industry. Coal and timber dominated north-central and southern West Virginia. Steel was king in the Northern Panhandle. The east was rich in agriculture, and the chemical industry was active in Kanawha and Ohio River valleys.

But through the decades, many companies within these industries left the state or folded, leaving thousands out of jobs. During the past 20 years, West Virginia has seen a gradual decline in population as residents migrated to find work. And while the big employer names today are Toyota and Massey Energy, some West Virginians are determined to remain in the Mountain State and look for career stability on their own.

Many are the new entrepreneurs of today.

"Everything is cyclical, and business is no different," said Mark Burdette, an entrepreneur and general manager of the Entrepreneurial League System, a coaching organization through Advantage Valley. "We were once a state dominated by small businesses then there was the industrial age. Now we are focusing on small businesses again. With all the downsizing from large companies, people are looking for ways to control their own livelihoods."

Such is the case of Teays Valley resident John Williams. In the 1990s, he feared his job at Union Carbide (now Dow Chemical) in South Charleston would be downsized. Determined to not join the frantic job search, he went to college on his own time and earned a degree in finance. In 2001, he launched his own financial advisory firm, Williams Financial Group in Charleston.

"I started my company after Enron and 9/11," he said. "The market was horrendous. I thought, 'Well, this is about as bad as it can get.' I took the high ground, and it was the hardest road. And I was glad I did it."

Williams said he was fortunate. He had always dreamed to have his own business.

A dream is led James Tiu to Wheeling to launch his restaurant Honest to Goodness Salsa Café.

"My father is from the Philippines," he said. "His parents owned a business, and they put my father and his siblings through school that way. I thought that was a respectable and honorable way to raise a family."

Tiu was an attorney at McKenna & Cuneo, a top law firm in Washington, D.C. But he gave up his career in 1994 and bought a burrito cart that he ran just two blocks from the White House.

"I put a business plan together, and looked around for a good opportunity," he said. "I began networking with other street vendors in the area and bought all the equipment and went to work. I set up just a block from the law firm, and my former co-workers were some of my best clients."

In 2003, he moved to his hometown or Wheeling and opened his restaurant. The highly educated lawyer is now an entrepreneur of a fledgling restaurant, and he has never regretted a moment.

"It takes a lot of patience," Tiu said.

"And you have to have faith you are doing the right things for the right reasons. If you think the mission is a sound one, you have to remain focused and realize it takes a while for efforts to turn into results."

This week, The State Journal gave new entrepreneurs the opportunity to tell their stories to aspiring new business owners. Issues range from research and planning, community support, financing, employment and when to expand or move on to another venture.

Spice of Life

Lawyer Tries Burrito Skills In His Native Wheeling

James Tiu has returned to his hometown of Wheeling to realize a childhood dream of opening a family business.

On March 26 he opened the Salsa Café at 56 Carmel Road in the Woodsdale/Edgewood section of Wheeling. The main attraction at his restaurant is a variety of burritos.

"Ever since I was about 10 years old, all I ever wanted to do was to own and operate a small business and I wanted it to be a family business," he said of his new restaurant, which he runs with the help of his wife, Patti.

For the last 10 years Tiu honed his burrito-making skills as the operator of a burrito cart in Washington, D.C.

Before Tiu was dipping his ladies in black beans and guacamole for burritos, he wore the business attire of a corporate D.C. lawyer. He probably didn't imagine the legal skills he acquired in his pre-burrito career would become essential to him as the owner of his burrito cart.

Tiu had a successful, but relatively brief, three-year career at a Washington, D.C., law firm that represented private contractors who had contract disputes with the U.S. Department of Defense. When he left there for his burrito business, he worked at a street location just two blocks from his former law firm.

He not only left behind a lucrative career, but spent his savings on a brand new food cart in order to enter the burrito business. The burritos he sold were meatless because city regulations forbid them to contain meat, he said.

Although things were going well in the beginning, eventually Tiu was faced with a bureaucratic challenge that would require him to dust off his law books and fight a legal battle to resume his right to sell burritos from his cart.

Tiu said he was served notice that the rice in the meatless burritos were not on the city's approved list of vendor foods. He was forced to close up shop for the next 17 months while he negotiated an entrenched city bureaucracy to make the necessary changes so he could get back in business. During that 17-month battle he returned to the law to earn his living by working as a contract public defender for the city, representing criminal defendants who could not afford an attorney.

In addition to representing his clients, he represented himself in his quest to change city regulations that would allow him to sell his meatless burritos alongside vendors of pretzels and hot dogs.

"With persistence and a lot of prayer, I was able to get a regulation passed that put me back in business," he said. "I couldn't have done it without the help of a lawyer. And I was the attorney."

Tiu acted quickly and decisively when the opportunity presented itself to land the location of his new business in the Friendly City. He said his wife happened to be visiting Wheeling last fall and discovered the current location of his restaurant was available for rent. Within months he and his wife and young daughter had a house and new business in Wheeling.

"She leased it on the spot when she found out it was available," he said. "That was perfect for the business."

He remembered the location from his childhood as a popular Minit-Market frequented by many in the neighborhood.

"Everybody in this neighborhood was familiar with the Minit-Market," he said.

The recipes for Tiu's burritos have been a labor of love, a long time in the making.

"I spent 10 years working on our recipes," he said.

"I've been working on my refried beans and black bean recipes for 10 years. That and the rice are the heart and soul of a burrito."

As for the essential factors that make his burritos stand out from the rest, Tiu pointed out that he carefully considers the preparation of spices, the temperature of the food, the combination of ingredients, the presentation of the dishes to the customers, and the variety of additives such as the sauce.

He said the sauces he has for his burritos range from the "mild to the wild."

"We have 30 different sauces from which to choose," he said. "We have sauces so hot that one drop can flavor an entire pot of beans." He pointed to one sauce whose name indicated its potency. It's called "Sudden Death."

Tiu added that he also has mild sauces, like mild cranberry.

Each of Tiu's burritos are freshly made. "They're rolled from steaming hot ingredients and crisp, fresh lettuce and tomatoes in about 30 seconds before giving them to the customer."

Tiu brings to his establishment his respect for customers' individual tastes, which he learned from his 10-year burrito cart business.

"We will design a burrito that is appropriate for every taste bud," he said. "That's what I did for 10 years, (making) 150 (burritos) a day. I may not know their names but I will know what they like."

While Tiu looks forward to a successful family business in Wheeling, he is also upbeat about the entire area. He pointed to the recent announcement of a Cabela's retail store and distribution center to be built in Ohio County as evidence that the area is on the move economically.

"I tried to build this business using only local people," he said. "I want people to know that you can do this in Wheeling and you can get help along the way."

In addition to burritos and tacos, the Salsa Café also serves coffee and breakfast items such as bagels and cinnamon buns. It is open from 7:30 a.m. to 8:30 p.m. Monday through Saturday.

Customers may take out orders or eat inside the restaurant in a relaxing setting of chairs and couches.

Faces of the Future

James Tiu, 39
Owner of Salsa Café

Wheeling native James Tiu, 39, once lived the life of a busy Washington D.C., attorney. Then he felt the calling to go into business for himself and began selling burritos from a street cart.

He next returned home, now he offers Mexican fare at two popular Salsa Café locations in Edgewood and Centre Market. Wife Patti, an actress born in Cleveland, met up with James in Washington. Involved with children's theatre there, she came back to Wheeling with him.

She said running a restaurant is the best job she ever had.

"I love this," Patti Tiu said. "This is fun. It gives me the ability to be creative, and I get to make decisions based on trends. I get to think about, 'Where are people's minds? What do they want?' What we went to do is give them quality food.

"We truly care about what people eat. We want to make their lives better, and through that they will make life better for forting, nourishing and satisfying experience."

The Tius have been married since 1997 and have a 3 year-old daughter.

Grand Opening

Salsa Cafe Centre Market to celebrate new store.

Wheeling-Salsa Café Centre Market will celebrate its grand opening next week at 2200 Market St. In Wheeling, according to the restaurant's owner, Tim Beam.

A year and a half after the opening of Wheeling's first California-style Burrito shop, Salsa Café added a new location in Wheeling's Centre Market last month. The restaurant celebrated the occasion Tuesday with a ribbon-cutting ceremony attended by local government officials and representatives of the Wheeling Area Chamber of Commerce.

Salsa Café founder James Tiu said he was pleased to introduce Beam and his wife Karin as new owners of Salsa Café Centre Market. Beam, a California native with previous small business experience, trained thoroughly at Salsa Café's Edgewood location before striking out on his own:

"We'll serve the same quick, fresh, healthy California-style burritos as the Edgewood location to Wheeling's downtown and Center Wheeling customers," he said.

It was Salsa Cage's emphasis on a fresh and healthful cuisine that immediately appealed to Mean, who, along with his wife Karin and their daughter, recently relocated to the Ohio Valley from California. A friendly chat between Mean and Tiu lead to more serious business discussions about opening a second Salsa Café location closer to downtown.

"Tim and I share a commitment to quality fresh foods, customer service and reinvestment in the local community," Tiu explained.

Beam said customers can enjoy their lunch in Centre Market's historic Upper Market-just across from Coleman's Fish-amid paintings, sculptures, and other works of art. He noted that he chose the location carefully by scouting several different sites before deciding upon Centre Market.

Both Tiu and Beam said they believe that the recent openings of Orrick, Main Street Bank and the West Virginia Catholic Heritage Center, along with the long-term success of Ohio Valley Medical Center and the planned opening of a Lowe's, add to a sense of momentum in Center Wheeling, and-when combined with the recent opening of Cabela's in Dallas Pike-to the larger Wheeling area.

"We're enthusiastic about the prospects of success for small, locally owned family businesses that offer quality products, quality services and reinvestment in the local community," said the owners in a joint statement.

The owner added that he was trying to target downtown lunchtime customers. "If customers call their orders in, we'll have the order fresh and ready for pick up on their arrival," he said.

Salsa Café Centre Market is open from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., Monday through Saturday. For more information, call the restaurant at (304) 232-2468.

Power Lunch, a la Cart

To Own His Own Business, James Tiu Traded in Legal Briefs for Burrito Stand

Among Washington's legions of lawyers, James Tiu stands apart. This area of expertise isn't corporate mergers, intellectual property, or even dot-com bankruptcies - it's burritos.

When he was still under 30, Tiu quit his job as a contract lawyer in Washington to sell burritos from his own sidewalk cart in the city's business district. He hadn't become disenchanted with law; Tiu simply loved burritos and from a young age had always wanted to start his own business.

"I have great respect for attorneys - I am one," Tiu says. "But I always knew I would only and operate my own business, and it wasn't going to be a legal practice."

After three years at the law firm of McKenna & Cuneo, Tiu had paid off his students loans and decided to trade his pinstripe suits for propane burners. Today, under the red, white, and black striped awning of the stainless steel cart, Tiu served up meatless burritos that draw a crowd. At the peak of the lunchtime rush, his customers form a line down the block at the southwestern corner of 15th and K streets, N.W. Even in the dead of winter, his patrons sometimes stand in line 15 minutes to buy the bean-and-rice creations.

"I'm floored by the fact that people are as loyal as they are and wait as patiently as they do," Tiu says.

As with any smart businessman, loyalty is something Tiu tries to encourage. The cart's counter holds Rolodex card files full to bursting with more than 750 frequent-buyer cards. What keeps the customers coming back?

Sporting penny loafers, work boots, and everything in between, Tiu's patrons have a broad range of tastes, and his burritos are designed to appeal to all of them. Customers with upwardly mobile palates can choose spinach, red-pepper, or sundried tomato tortillas brimming with cinnamon beans and guacamole. Traditionalists may prefer a flour tortilla packed with rice and refried beans, topped with a dollop of sour cream.

Customers with a hankering for heat can have their burritos topped off with Blair's After Death hot sauce with chipotle. For the less intrepid, there's the suave warmth of Tabasco Green or Jump Up & Kiss Me Passion Fruit. The burritos range in price from $3 to $6.25.

Tiu has branded his creations Honest to Goodness Burritos, but he says, "There's a variety of different names you might call them." Mexican, California style, fresh-Mex, and Cal-Mex are among the options.

Whatever his burritos are called, Tiu's customers can't get enough of them.

"We sell hundreds of burritos weekly," Tiu says. "And I appreciate that people will stand in line 15 minutes" for them.

Tiu says his customers helped him develop the current recipes. He tried different variations on his recipe for black beans, for example, and took note of which one sold the best.

"You have to listen and understand what customers want," Tiu says. His goal has been to offer burritos with a "distinctive flavor, distinctive texture, distinctive temperature, and distinctive proportion of ingredients."

After six years of trial and error, Tiu makes his beans with cinnamon, olive oil, onions, "and two things I won't tell you," he says smiling.

His customers are smiling, too.

"James' burritos are the best part of my day," says Tommy Southall, a regular at the cart. "They're so good," he says, "and I feel like they're good for me."

Why does someone leave a lucrative law job to become a street vendor?

"Certain things in my background made this come together for me," Tiu says. "From and early age, I've always had a respect and admiration for people who owned and operated small businesses - from as early as I can remember."

Running small businesses seems to run in Tiu's family.

"My grandfather came from China," Tiu says. "He started a family business in the Philippines at an early age by opening a bakery."

Tiu says his dad "grew up in the family business" and delighted his young son with stories about the enterprise. Tiu, who is half Chinese, explains that his family valued entrepreneurship: "It was encouraged, it was admired, it was respected. It was viewed as something very positive."

Fresh out of the University of Cincinnati Law School, Tiu went to work at McKenna & Cuneo in 1991. After a few years , having paid his student loans, he began formulating a plan to start his own business.

"There was something compelling me to take active steps toward putting together what I believed would be a viable business," Tiu says.

The idea raised a few eyebrows around the law firm.

"I didn't quite know what to make of" James' entrepreneurialism, says Thomas Johnston, a former colleague. "It certainly was unusual. But James seemed energized by it. He lit up whenever he talked about" starting his own business, says Johnston, of counsel at McKenna & Cuneo.

Tiu left the firm in 1994 and for a short time worked for a street vendor who sold coffee. After learning the business off selling from the sidewalk, Tiu bought his own cart and enjoyed immediate, if moderate, success. The business has "always maintained a positive cash flow," Tiu says, although he points out, "You don't get successful quick. You get successful slow."

The business has grown over the last six years, and today it's flourishing. So is Tiu's home life.

Part of the appeal of a family business is the family. After two years in his new enterprise, Tiu married Patti, who left a job in theater to work with him at the cart. The two of them had worked together before, as volunteers in the young adult community at Holy Trinity Church in Washington. After volunteering together at a soup kitchen, "we knew we worked well together," Tiu says.

As cashier, Patti stands outside the cart. Inside, Tiu is enshrouded in the steam rising from propane food warmers and works in short sleeves. They both know their customers well.

"Working in a small-business environment, you cannot avoid learning about your repeat customers, because they are the ones who sustain you," Tiu says. "Patti and I will often rattle off orders and we know who the customer is by the order."

Tiu says that when Patti says "flour tortilla, cheddar cheese, refried beans, sour cream, and whatever red sauce I would serve them," he immediately knows who's placing the order.

But Tiu will always be his own best customer. Even after six years, he still enjoys his own fare - "Two a day, easily," Tiu says. "I get to the cart and the first burrito of the day is reserved for me. I got into this enjoying the food and I have to be my best customer."

Today, with his wife beside him, business is booming. The line of customers is longer than ever, and Tiu often runs out of burritos before he's served them all. Tiu says he and Patti are considering moving off the street and into a storefront. "We'd love to do that," he says. "We have some plans, and we're always on the lookout for the ideal location."

What's the secret to his success?

"You have to meet and then exceed customers' expectations every time they come to the cart, and then you have to go one step more," he says. "You find ways to continue to please your customer without comprising your cash flow."

Liking what you do also helps. "I truly love this work," he says.

A Burrito Vendor Makes a Stand, Seeking the Rights of the Egg Roll

Move over, potholes, schools and the mayor. Washingtonians now have burritos to worry about.

Behind the controversy is James Tiu, a licensed vendor who had been selling burritos from a stand on Washington's powerful K Street corridor since November of 1994. Last spring, the city forced to close down.

At issue? Washington, like most cities, in finicky about what food may be sold on its streets. Hot dogs, pretzels and even meatless egg rolls are fine, but Mr. Tiu was preparing his vegetarian burritos on the spot, rather than selling prepackaged varieties. The city says that increases the risk of contamination.

Mr. Tiu sold his burritos undisturbed until city inspectors did a spot check and cited the rule against preparing "potentially hazardous food" at a cart. He should have known better, says Richard Siegel of the city's Department of Consumer and Regulatory Affairs. "If you can get a driver's license, you know you can't drive an [armored personnel carrier] in the District," he says.

The story might have ended there except that Mr. Tiu holds a law degree from the University of Cincinnati and works part time as a lawyer. He chose to fight.

First, he galvanized the support of his loyal K Street customers, handing out fliers on his plight. "There was a bunch of people crowded around him, saying, 'Where have you been?' and 'Good to see you!'" says one customer, Melissa Ross. She wrote to the city on his behalf, as did others. One woman wrote that after taking a new job miles away, she would still send a courier to collect her lunch at the stand.

Next, Mr. Tiu requested a public hearing on adding burritos to the list of foods approved for street preparation. He maintains they're no more dangerous than hot dogs and hired a food safety expert to prove his point. His cart passed the consultant's inspection easily.

At the hearing, Mr. Tiu clutched his inspector's report and the customer letters as he read a prepared statement. DCRA's Mr. Siegel and an administrative law judge listened politely. That was in April. Mr. Tiu is still waiting for a decision.

Meanwhile, he's getting frustrated, and working part time as general counsel for a government contractor. But he hasn't given up hope. "I plan to somehow serve burritos at 15th & K," he says.

Movin' On Up

Ex-Lawyer's burrito stand looks to move indoors

James and Patti Tiu came up with a simple, successful business plan size years ago: beans, cheese, tortillas.

It was a risk. To put the burrito business plan into motion in 1994, James had to leave a comfortable and challenging associate position with McKenna & Cuneo. But he says he remember thinking at the time, " If not now, when?" Honest to Goodness Burritos has been at the corner of 15th and K Streets in downtown DC nearly every day since. For a small business, the idea has paid off. "We serve hundreds of customers pre week," James boasts, "with 20 to 30 people in line" each day during the lunch rush. The customers are dedicated: "I have people that have come weekly since the beginning."

Why a burrito cart? "Because I enjoyed eating them," James says. "I didn't want to do anything else." I thought, why the hell couldn't you run it from a cart?" A don't come to the Tiu's cart looking for a meat or chicken burrito. Honest to Goodness Burritos is a strictly vegetarian operation. DC law doesn't allow easily spoiled foods like beef or chicken to be served from street carts. The good news is that being vehemently veggie keeps costs down and profit margins high. The Tius are cautious when it comes to discussing earnings. Being on the street, they're vulnerable to a good old-fashioned heist. "it's supported my wife and me," James concedes. "We have healthcare, insurance. And we use the best ingredients."

The Tius have done well enough that the next step is moving Honest to Goodness Burritos indoors by fall of 2001. The owners are dedicated to the area around 15th and K. "I won't compromise on location," James says. His dedication to downtown DC fits into a simple business philosophy: "You have to make money to open up the next day, but you can't be in it just for the money."

BID Services Corporation

Congratulations. I am pleased to announce that you have been nominated in the category of Private Sector Individual in the first Downtown DC Business Improvement District Downtown Momentum Awards. The awards were created to recognize individuals and organizations that have made significant contributions to the overall improvement of our neighborhood. During out call for nominations, you were recognized by someone in the community for your personal, financial or corporate commitment to assist the downtown revitalization.

The first-time award will be given during the Downtown Momentum Awards luncheon to be held on April 24, 2000 at the Grant Hyatt Hotel at 1000 H Street, NW in Washington, DC. The luncheon will begin at 12:30, during which we will recognize six winners from each of six categories. Tickets to the lunch are $35 each, and can be purchased by calling Rosalind Faulkner at (202) 661-7579.

Congratulations! And thank you for your continued work in the renaissance of Downtown DC. The emerging sense of community that is growing throughout our city is due to the efforts of people like you.

Look forward to seeing you on April 24.

Sincerely,

Richard H. Bradley
Executive Director