There are two types of Sloppy Joes. There is the New Jersey Sloppy Joe, and then there is the rest of the world’s definition of a Sloppy Joe.
For those of you asking, “What is a Joe?”…and then questioning why there is more than one type…
The New Jersey Joe is typically rye bread, turkey, Swiss (although no cheese for me), coleslaw and Russian dressing.
The “regular” Sloppy Joe is a classic American sandwich made with loose ground beef cooked in a sweet, savory and tangy tomato-based sauce, served hot on a soft hamburger bun.
The New Jersey Joe is nothing like its classic counterpart by the same name. Yet, it’s far superior. And yes, I’m biased.
It’s also the sandwich I’ve been eating from my local hometown hero deli since childhood. It’s one of those IYKYK delis, and an IYKYK sandwich. They have a cult following, and their fans and customers stop at no lengths to get their beloved sandwich. Want to hear a funny story about that? In college, where there were around a dozen students from my hometown, one particular fraternity (popular with the guys from my town) would have their pledges make the close to three-hour round-trip journey to get sandwiches for them as part of pledging. And duh, for me too. Ahhh, if only Goldbelly was around in the early 2000s…
And another fun story. During my original interview with Branded Restaurants and Schatzy nearly 15 years ago, Schatzy and I realized we were from the same town because I brought up this sandwich. Yup, Schatzy and I are from the same NJ town…and a sandwich put that connection together…and possibly got me hired? Lol. Nah, I attribute that to my charming personality and skills 😀.
But…I digress.
You get it. The deli is a hometown hero. The sandwich is a cult classic. Fans stop at no bounds (or state borders) to get their fix.
But you know what else was really special about the deli? The decoration and atmosphere. It was KITSCH to the max. License plates on the wall. Funny metal signs (“Everything is better with bread”). Photos of celebrities. Cartoon smiling pickles. Even a clown horn that would be sounded every time someone ordered their signature sandwich, The Gobbler. There was also a long open deli counter then length of the store displaying all the salads and appetizing: mac salad, coleslaw, potato salad, the works. So even when my intention was to swing by for a sandwich, I never left without at least two pounds of my favorite sides that I absolutely did not need but absolutely could not resist when they were sitting right in front of me.
But after moving states, towns and Turnpike exits, I no longer lived near the deli, so getting my “fix” became a special treat. And even though they started expanding over the last five years (and shipping on Goldbelly), there were still no new locations in my corner of NJ…until recently.
The deli opened up SEVEN MINUTES away from me! (Insert happy dance.)
In the last two months, I’ve once again become a regular at my new outpost! However, I’ll admit, because life is crazy, me being a “regular” was through delivery only. Sure, I drove by it. But I hadn’t actually gone inside. DoorDash made this quite convenient for me. But this week, I finally stepped in for the first time.
I was so excited to place my order that it took me a minute before I realized something: the food might be the same, but the decoration and atmosphere were completely different.
If the original location was an OG two-panel Jeep Wagoneer adorned with stickers on the bumper, V2 was a Tesla.
V1 had character and warmth. V2 was clean, sleek, sterile and didn’t have much personality. And there was no amazing deli counter for me to salivate over all the upsells I didn’t need but definitely wouldn’t resist.
Ok Julie, we get your obsession with this deli, but what’s your point?!
While waiting for my sandwich, I started questioning whether it’s the food or the atmosphere (or the combination of the two) that actually makes a restaurant memorable. I’m sure the residents of Bergen County, NJ who didn’t grow up in or around Essex County will love their sandwiches. The food is still delicious. But is the food alone going to make this the after-school hangout for the high schoolers? The place college students want to make their first stop when they come home for the holidays? Are they sending their pledges to make the drive? Are the adults catering their Sunday football watch parties for their friends? (And yes, I’m references my own past experiences here…)
But it’s not just me, there is real data behind this. According to the National Restaurant Association, 64% of full-service customers and 47% of limited-service customers say the overall dining experience is more important than the price of the meal. And even though nearly three-quarters of restaurant traffic now happens off-premises (hi, guilty DoorDash customer over here), operators are still focused on getting people back inside their restaurants. Why? Because food can be delivered. Atmosphere can’t. A sandwich can show up at my front door tasting exactly the same, but DoorDash can’t deliver the fog horn. It can’t deliver the person behind the counter who knows my order. It can’t make me stare at a vat of macaroni salad and somehow convince myself that two pounds of it is a perfectly reasonable addition to lunch. Those are the things that turn a transaction into a memory. And eventually, memories into loyalty.
At least for me, going to the deli meant seeing familiar faces behind the counter who knew my order (I didn’t even have to ask to hold the cheese). It meant hoping someone ordered a Gobbler so I could hear the clown horn. And when it was lunchtime and I didn’t know what I wanted, those ginormous side salads were literally calling to me. It became a destination. A place editors featured in stories. A hometown hero. But now as it expands, while the food is still the best, I do wonder (and hope) whether the new 2.0 atmosphere will be enough to make it a hometown hero in every town it joins.
Expansion 101… growth almost always requires change. The kitchen needs to become more efficient. The footprint might change. Technology gets added. Design gets modernized. The thing that worked in one quirky little hometown location can’t always be copied and pasted into 10, 20 or 100 stores. But maybe the goal isn’t to copy and paste everything. Maybe it’s figuring out which parts of your brand are actually sacred. IMHO, the best brands evolve without erasing themselves. They figure out what can change for V2, V3 and V27…and what absolutely cannot. The logo? Maybe. The footprint? Sure. The ordering technology? Definitely. But if the clown horn is part of why people fell in love with you in the first place, maybe you pack the damn clown horn.
The sandwich got me through the door but all those other things are why, decades later, I’m still talking about it.
So yes, I’ll absolutely keep ordering my Sloppy Joe from the shiny new location seven minutes away. No cheese. Extra Russian dressing. And probably two pounds of sides I don’t need…. And maybe instead of missing it, I’ll donate my own fog horn!
