I am a regular shopper at a local farmers market in Toronto called the St Lawrence Market. Every Saturday, the market turns into a bustling exchange similar to what one might encounter in Europe or Asia. People yell, sell, cajole, promote, swear, etc etc. It's great. It is a place where people celebrate the concept of "small is big." The shops are small, but they are big on experience. As Tara Hunt aptly says, the St Lawrence Market is a place where the boutique generation would congregate.
One of the main draws at the market is the famous Peameal Bacon sandwich (see at top). Picture slabs of peameal, some mustard, onions, black pepper, and tomatoes sandwiched between 2 pieces of kaiser bun. The Peameal. Pretty simple.
Almost everyone in the market sells this famous sandwich. Not too much to it, you think ... so why not buy from the cheapest vendor? Well, this is exactly what I did as a market newbie many years ago. I bought from a place called the Sausage King - for about 25% less than the crowded place across the aisle - Paddington's Pump. On account of price, I gravitated to Sausage King (why would I buy the same thing across the aisle for 25% more ... who do they think they are?)
For about 2 years, I put up with surly service, an inconsistent product (sometimes too fatty, sometimes a little cheap on the # of pieces of bacon, sometimes served with a day old bun, sometimes drowning in mustard), the same server who always forgot my order week to week, the same server who could never understand "grapefruit juice" despite it being front and center in their cooler (week after week after week). Despite this, I persisted ... always justifying the mediocre experience by the cost savings.
About 6 months ago, Sausage King raised their prices! Now they were only 10% cheaper than Paddington's, but it pushed me over the edge. How could they? They're not worth it! I bailed. I joined the line at Paddington's. I gave my order to the pot bellied and unshaven proprietor - who was even surlier and scarier than the Sausage King woman. However, he has a charm - much like the Soup Nazi in the Seinfeld episode has charm. He got the order right, gave the right change, and moved us along quickly ... and I loved the way he shouted "PEEAAMEAL" to the kitchen. The Sausage King woman was just plain dreary, and none too swift.
I forked out the extra cash and then gave the condiment order to an efficient assistant who got it right ... without having to ask for clarification 5 times. They also serve grapefruit juice and reach for it as soon as I request it.
The new sandwich is glorious! Worth at least twice the Sausage King offering! It has more meat, the bacon is grilled vs steamed. The kaiser bun is always fresh. The amount of mustard applied is just right. The experience is perfect. What was I thinking before? My 2.5 year son Matty also approves - I can hardly get it to my mouth before he pounces on it.
The lessons?
- When you are good, you can charge a premium, and you should.
- When you are good, you will attract the right customers - the ones who value experience and quality first, not price.
- When you are good, you continue to have line-ups when the inferior cheaper guy across the aisle will be twiddling his/her thumbs (or dealing with the price hagglers).
- When you are good, you don't fake it. If you are surly and efficient, then revel in it. Don't pretend to be something you aren't. Customers will eventually find out and punish you for deceiving them.
- Know what you are good at, focus on it, perfect it and customers will come in throngs.
- When you are NOT SO good, you have nothing else to compete on other than price.
