Roll Over, Hot Dogs

To set a plan in motion, city officials in 2006 surveyed street-food operations and regulations in seven U.S. cities: Miami, Chicago, New York, Atlanta, Boston, Philadelphia and Portland. For District vendors, free orientation meetings that began last fall offered interpreters in Korean, Spanish, Vietnamese and Mandarin.

One meeting, titled "You Don't Have to Sell Hot Dogs," was held on an icy January night and attracted only three prospective vendors, including Campbell, who said he intended to sell steak-and-cheese sandwiches. ("Our food concept changed 12 times," Akerejah said later. "At first it was barbecue in general, then cheesesteak sandwiches, then a deli, then the halal shawarma.")

Most discussion at the meeting centered on Health Department requirements. Other, ongoing sessions encourage the development of solid business plans and offer help in applying for small-business loans.

A vendor cart is far less expensive to operate than a bricks-and-mortar business, and it can be lucrative. Cart prices generally range from $4,000 to more than $20,000, depending on size and upgrades. Besides food costs, expenses include $800 a year for a public space permit, $330 for a basic food license, $100 for a health inspection certificate and a set tax of $1,500 a year to the D.C. Office of Tax and Revenue.

Says Williams, "Those hot dog people are always telling me they aren't making any money." A report to the D.C. Council last year said that street-food vendors nationwide earn an average of $33,000 a year.

Akerejah and Campbell were the first to follow the new procedures and acquire the money needed to buy a cart outfitted with custom features, including a rotisserie and griddle. With the help of a $15,000 loan from the Latino Economic Development Corp., they spent about $16,000 on their four-by-five-foot Halal Luncheonette, which was built in Ontario, Canada, and took eight weeks to complete.

The men, who met as freshmen at Howard University (Akerejah studied political science and Campbell finance), had hoped to open in mid-June, but acquiring the health permit took longer than anticipated. "It's been a quest to get all the documentation, one of the most difficult processes you can do," Akerejah says. Days dragged on. Then, after the permit was issued, Akerejah's car was stolen, and for weeks they had no way to haul the cart to their location. They eventually opened for their first full day of business Aug. 13.

They chose the 14th Street site after counting pedestrians at noon at various spots and clocking 130 in a half-hour at their ultimate location. With few other vendors nearby, "this corner gives us a chance to shine," Akerejah says. They accept Visa, MasterCard and American Express. And why not? "I'd rather have 90 percent of something rather than 100 percent of nothing," he says.

Their long-term goal is to have several carts, with employees to run them. But so far, the city's regulations, which are under review, require that the owner of the cart also operate it.

Both men trace their affection for Middle Eastern food to the street vendors near the famous Mega Plaza shopping mall on Victoria Island in Lagos, Nigeria, where both spent time as teenagers. "That's where boys of my generation took their sweethearts," says Akerejah, who takes orders and payments and drums up business on the sidewalk with a charismatic smile. "And the shawarmas were lovely, to say the least," adds Campbell, who works inside the cart.

Inside, every piece of equipment is compact, from the dorm-size refrigerator to the 1-quart hand-washing sink. Campbell, who is over 6 feet tall, puts together the sandwiches and has little room to move around. A tiny plastic fan provides the only cooling. Asked how he's doing, he calls out: "It's boiling in here. It's got to be 120 degrees."

One of the first customers is Adrienne Baksh. "Where did this come from?" asks Baksh, a legal secretary from Silver Spring, out for a lunchtime stroll. "I was like, whoa, they are trying to get halal chicken and rice stands here, like in New York." Behind Baksh, in a short line, is John Anderson, who works across the street.

"A couple of young guys trying to do something different -- how could I not support them?" says Anderson, co-owner of W. Curtis Draper, a 120-year-old Washington tobacco shop. "I hope they succeed. There have been hot dog carts there that have never made it."

Despite their fondness for shawarmas, Akerejah and Campbell had no experience cooking the compressed, marinated chicken, which they buy from a Virginia distributor, until opening day. Campbell had calculated that the 15-pound cone of chicken would yield 45 sandwiches for a moderate profit, and it did. He had no food service experience, but Akerejah had spent about 18 months at various restaurant jobs.

The shawarmas and other roll-ups (a doner kebab with just chicken and a merguez with just lamb sausage) were not an immediate hit. On opening day there were only six customers between noon and 1 p.m.

Besides the novelty, it might have had something to do with the bread. Anderson said later that Delle & Campbell's pita was "too dry and crumbly" and that he planned to speak to the men about it. And sure enough, after three days the men were using new, more pliable pita that made all the difference in the world.

More changes at Delle & Campbell's are sure to follow as the owners get more feedback from customers. Since opening and after 10 days in business, sales had doubled to a total of 48 sandwiches per day.

Says Akerejah, "We're still figuring out what we're doing."

"But there is more order," says Campbell, who added a vegetarian hummus wrap to the menu after customer requests. "Now we get everything organized the night before. We're not struggling, hitching up the cart and driving with it. Now it's part of my life."