Search
Close this search box.

SIGHT: Dan’s Supermarket in Inwood

Gary Then, the general manager of Dan’s Supermarket in Inwood, at the northern tip of Manhattan, has a couple of mottos: “Consistency is the best way toward progress” and, on a more personal note, “I’m so predictable.” These values are made visible at his two local grocery stores, where cans, bags, and boxes are stacked in immaculate towers, their labels aligned, creating stripes of alternating colors. The aisles’ linoleum floors gleam. Items are blocked to the edge of each shelf and end cap. The “setups,” as Gary calls the displays, are a glory to behold, on an otherwise unassuming stretch of Sherman Avenue just north of Dyckman Street (the second store is smaller and a few blocks north, on 207th Street). On the afternoon of our meeting, as I waited on the sidewalk I watched a worker preparing 2.5-gallon yellow jugs of Mazola corn oil for display. Before placing each jug on the stack, he wiped each jugs with a soft cloth, then nestled the bottle into its spot in the row, creating a stripe of bright yellow beneath the steppes of cans above, with a transitional row of yellow powedered iced tea. True to his precepts, Gary appeared at 2 p.m. on the dot, a young man with a neat scruff of beard, and wearing a black beanie and a windbreaker emblazoned with the Dan’s logo.

Dan’s Supermarket was founded in 2008 by Gary’s father, Julio. The meticulous displays and organization for which the store has become known were Julio’s vision. As Gary explains, 80 percent of the store’s customers are Dominican, and in Hispanic culture, abundance is valued: plenty of food, music, people, and so on. “We want to show people’s there’s a lot,” Gary says, gesturing toward the panoramic setup. He explains that “Dan” is not actually a person’s name but the Spanish word for “give”: Dan’s Supermarket is “giving” the temptation of plenitude to its shoppers. When they see the towers of groceries, they want to grab them, and more and more, and this opportunity makes them happy.

Gary Then, general manager of Dan’s, by his favorite section of the store

The sidewalk display is so tall that to reach the top, workers have to literally climb the levels of cans, using them as steps. As Gary tells me, items with the most distant expiration dates are stacked higher, while those expiring soonest are at eye level, so they are purchased first; the products gradually move down the stack, and missing spots are quickly filled in, like bricks in a wall, to create a smooth face. The alternating different colors are to prevent a customer from grabbing the wrong item. If you place cans of crushed tomatoes next to cans of whole plum tomatoes, a customer might take the wrong item, leading to frustration. He wants to eliminate this uncertainty, and of course the stripes of yellow, red, blue, and green are pleasing to the eye. The setup on the sidewalk features the store’s most high-volume items, and there are always a few workers waiting in the wings to tidy things up in the shoppers’ wake. Here’s a worker replacing cans of Café Bustelo.

Inside the store, consistency continues to reign. The fruit is packaged in geometrical arrangements on Styrofoam trays.

Toilet paper forms a battalion above the meat section—lightweight items are stacked high so they don’t hurt people if they happen to tumble down. The sausages are nestled like logs in a wood pile.

You can see how Dan’s takes pride in color coordiation in the dish detergent and soda shelves.

 

It’s important to Gary that customers be able to easily elocate what they are looking for, and find similar items grouped together. I noticed a section devoted to making coquito, a Hispanic milk-and-coconut drink: it featured cans of evaporated milk, sweetened condensed milk, two types of coconut milk, spices, and vanilla, all next to one another—not a grouping you’d likely find at Whole Foods, but one that Dan’s customers no doubt appreciate. As I wandered the aisles, I saw a worker blocking bars of soap at eye level, tapping them into place, making sure the labels faced out, then taking a few steps back to assess his work. The handyman mopping the floors was so diligent that at times I wondered if he was trailing me, erasing my footsteps as I passed down each aisle.

 

As Gary and I passed through the produce section, he snatched a stray coupon circular from atop a stack of yucca. I noted that all the eggplants, in an adjacent bin, were arranged to point in the same direction. A produce worker was unpacking a box of Boston lettuce, holding each head aloft and examining it, and peeling off any wilted outer leaves, before nestling in into the rack.

Gary led me to the department he’s proudest of, and where he first started working when he was a kid: the meat department. Dan’s categorizes types of meat by the color of styrofoam tray: yellow for chicken, pink for pork, and so on. During the pandemic, he tells me—a remnant of distress tightening his voice—there was a national shortage of pink and green trays, which caused some kinks in their color coordination. Black foam trays are always an option, of course, but he feels the color doesn’t pop the same way as the pastel hues.

The store currently employs about sixty workers, including cashiers, stockers, and two full-time handymen-janitors. I asked if prospective employees have to undergo any sort of test to evaluate if their sense of aesthetics and order matches the values of the supermarket, but Gary says he can get a sense from the “energy” of the interviewee, and from extensively checking their references. The store teaches new workers what he calls “our way,” and everyone is pretty quick not only to catch on but also to take pride in their work. Dan’s Supermarket  is like Harvard on a food worker’s résumé: future employers know anyone who has worked here is a golden candidate.

As I was about to leave, I noticed a lady in a green terry cloth track suit in one of the checkout lanes, picking up the bright greens in the reusable shopping bags and the mural behind her. I couldn’t help wondering if certain customers dress up for a trip to Dan’s, creating their own pop of color to add a touch of improvisation to the organizational harmony.

“For anything you want to grow or build, consistency is perfection,” Gary says.

Gary.Then@yahoo.com

Sense & the City is a monthly blog exploring the hidden corners of New York City. Each month’s post is devoted to one of the five senses. Receive daily sensory impressions via Instagram @senseandthecity.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Facebook
Twitter
LinkedIn
Scroll to Top