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By Gabriella Gershenson
Worksman
Trading Corporation
94-15 100th St. (94th Ave.), Ozone Park, Queens, 800-BUY-CART.
Jack Beller,
vice president of the Vending Division of Worksman Cycles in Queens, the country’s
oldest manufacturer of food vending carts, has been known to trawl the city
streets looking for dings and nicks in food carts.
"Unfortunately
today there’s a lot of junk on the streets," laments Beller, whose
father put him to work in this business at the age of 12. "There was a
time when most vendors cared about equipment and the product that they put out,
but that’s not true for the most part today. Equipment doesn’t look
as nice and it’s not maintained nearly as well."
Beller calls
the rusty, dented little carts that are ubiquitous tenants of the city’s
sidewalks "down ’n’ dirty carts." They are, in his words,
"slapped together, quick and cheap."
But according
to Beller, Worksman has nothing to do with this method of production. Rather,
the company upholds more than a century-long tradition and legacy of two historic
companies: Worksman itself, and Admar, the company it acquired in 1996 that
once belonged to Beller’s father.
In 1948,
Ed Beller opened Admar, a restaurant equipment shop, in an area that is still
considered a "restaurant equipment" district, on Catherine St. and
Bowery. The space had previously been inhabited by manufacturers of wooden vending
carts, which were still prevalent among street vendors at the time. "People
would still come by and say ‘Do you have carts?’" the younger
Beller recalls. "So he decided to make carts."
Admar’s
hot dog carts started off as iron, evolved into stainless steel, and then into
a permanent, and oft-copied fixture of the city landscape. As is still done
at Worksman today, Beller’s father used industrial kitchen-caliber equipment
to build his carts, which Beller says sets them apart from the skrimpers.
Admar bought
wheels for its structures from the nearby Worksman Cycles, located on a block
that was to become the site of the World Trade Center. Worksman Cycles began
its run as a dry goods store before Morris Worksman, the Russian immigrant proprietor,
started tinkering with bicycles and devised the three-wheel designs that would
replace the horse and buggy among the city’s merchants.
Worksman’s
model for the ice-cream-vending trike reached mythic status when it was picked
up by Good Humor and became the de rigeur ice-cream-cycle. Since then, the iconography
of Worksman has penetrated the collective American consciousness to such a degree
that a Good Humor cart is on display in the Smithsonian Museum.
Though the
Good Humor cart had extraordinary staying power and is still in use, the vending
business has seen other trends come and go. Beller notes that in the 70s, the
company altered the design of their carts to accommodate the growing numbers
of kebab vendors. In a recent afternoon in his Ozone Park office, which is peppered
with hot dog and ice cream cart memorabilia, Beller showed me a picture album
with photos like the one of "Dr. Snowball" who sells "The World’s
Best Snowballs"; Beller has also spoken of the city’s erstwhile juice
carts and of some of his more bizarre exports, including a reindeer-meat hot
dog cart for Alaskan customers.
With its
various orders of business, which range from outfitting Mr. Softee-style trucks
to building carts for Nathan’s, Hebrew National, Boar’s Head and delivery
wagons for D’Agostino’s, to vending carts for foodstuffs such as churros,
gyros, Italian ices and Italian sausage, Worksman’s vending division has
probably contributed as much to the New York City ethos as any major city planner.
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