(Bloomberg) — The bright green “On the Fly” food cart with a large decorative wing parked in Washington’s Chinatown seems to be in the wrong city.
Offering hummus, vegetarian tacos and organic teas, the cart and its menu are in stark contrast to the aging metal-box stands nearby that sell bags of cheese popcorn, candy bars and hot dogs. A street-food revolution is under way in Washington, which has long trailed cities like Philadelphia, famous for its street-cart cheese steaks, and New York, where vendors offer everything from kebabs to crepes.
While many vendors cling to the traditional products, such as the pork and beef sausages known as half-smokes, some have begun stretching their menus. Abebe Biasmir, an Ethiopian immigrant, whose cart at 15th Street and New York Avenue is in view of the White House, now sells half-smokes and Ethiopian food such as injera, a spongy bread; tibs, a grilled meat dish; and spiced lentils.
The end of a moratorium on new licenses is giving heartburn to longtime vendors, mostly immigrants, who have protested the changes and tried to thwart competition from newcomers by calling the police on even minor violations of vending rules.
“If somebody puts his cart in the corner beside me, I lose everything,” said Yehia Ramadan, an Egyptian immigrant who operates a cart a few blocks from the White House. “We’re against On the Fly.”
About 250 vendors set up each day in Washington’s central business zone, the area around the White House and the National Mall most popular with tourists. Several hundred more operate in the district’s other neighborhoods.
‘Scared of Street Carts’
Gabe Klein, 37, outfitted the On the Fly carts and recruited a chef trained at the Inn at Little Washington in Virginia — one of the nation’s most prestigious and pricey restaurants — to develop the cuisine. A transformation in the city’s dreary street-food landscape is inevitable, he said.
“People are scared of street carts,” Klein said. “I don’t think the hot dog business will get better.”
Jordan Lichman, a former sous chef at the Inn, where meals start at $148 per person, created $2 tacos for On the Fly.
“There’s no reason why you can’t have really great, simple food, fresh, prepared well, on the street,” Lichman said. “Everywhere else in the world does it.”
Klein’s efforts to appeal to office workers with organic foods sold from environmentally friendly electric-powered carts has some longtime vendors worried that his company will soon dominate the district.
“We’re afraid he’ll be pushing us to sell him our carts or join his business,” said Salah Awadalla, a 51-year-old Egyptian immigrant who parks his cart on the edge of Chinatown. “People don’t want to lose this job.”
A moratorium on new licenses from 1998 to 2006 may have contributed to a malaise among vendors. Without competition, vendors could afford to continue serving the same food they always had. The moratorium was lifted in 2006, and tensions have risen as 400 new vendors received licenses.
“There’s a lot of fear, a lot of concerns within that vending population,” said Samuel Williams, a street sales coordinator for the district. “We’re definitely seeing a great amount of pushback from some of the longstanding vendors.”
Street vendors take in about $40,000 per year, said Michael Rupert, a spokesman for the city.
Trung Chau, 20, a Vietnamese immigrant who operates a cart with his uncle near the National Mall, sees the influx of new vendors as “very, very difficult for our business.”
Chau said established vendors retaliate against the newcomers by trying to catch them violating rules, such as parking in the wrong spot or leaving unlicensed workers to mind carts, and then call the police.
“The police take them far away,” he said, smiling.
Jared Peterson, 35, who manages the On the Fly cart at 7th and F Streets, recalled witnessing a protest by traditional vendors about a month ago. They marched and waved signs, including one that said “Vendor Gentrification,” Peterson said.
Grandfathered Vendors
The lifting of the moratorium brought some benefits for the longtime vendors. At around the same time, city officials grandfathered all vendors into a system through which they can lease their street space from the District of Columbia.
Before that system was created, no vendor held claim to a particular spot, and many would hit the streets by 5 a.m. to secure the most desirable locations. Fistfights over territory were common and female vendors were intimidated by their male counterparts.
“There are volumes of police reports of people getting beaten up,” Williams said.
Akbar Nazary, whose wholesale company supplies about 40 Washington street vendors, said he will make whatever changes are necessary if the stands change their inventory to keep up.
“If more vendors are interested in selling fruit cups, we’ll somehow have to adjust to that,” he said. “Or fresh juices. Or shish kebab.”
Traditional vendors are more afraid of competition than they are of selling new fare, he said. “They are not opposing new food,” Nazary said. “Whatever the demand is, people sell.”
By Karen Leigh, [email protected].