From Desk Job to Deli Counter: How I Opened Stack & Co.

There's a moment in every office worker's life where you're sitting at your desk, eating a sad, shrink-wrapped sandwich from the vending machine, and you think: I could do better than this. For most people, that thought lasts about four seconds. For me, it lasted three years — and then I signed a lease.

Last month, I officially opened Stack & Co., a sandwich shop on Elm Street in downtown Cedar Falls, and I still can't quite believe it's real. The sign is up. The bread is baked. People are walking in and handing me actual money for sandwiches I designed. It's the most terrifying and satisfying thing I've ever done.

The Spark

It started, embarrassingly, with a BLT. I was visiting my aunt in Vermont, and she took me to this tiny place wedged between a laundromat and a barbershop. The menu was six items long. The guy behind the counter knew every customer by name. And the BLT — thick-cut bacon, heirloom tomato, mayo made in-house on that morning's sourdough — honestly rearranged something in my brain.

I flew home, went back to my marketing job, and spent the next several months Googling "how to open a restaurant" at 1 a.m.

The Scary Part

Quitting my job wasn't the hard part. The hard part was the eighteen months between quitting and opening day. I burned through a small business loan learning things I never expected to care about: hood ventilation requirements, Health Department inspections, the surprisingly emotional process of choosing a bread supplier.

There were weeks where I was convinced I'd made a huge mistake. My contractor ghosted me for ten days in November. I cried in a walk-in cooler that wasn't even mine yet. My partner very gently suggested I "maybe take a weekend off," which I did not do.

The Menu

I wanted to keep things simple. We have eight sandwiches, two soups, and a rotating weekly special. The philosophy is: fewer things, done extremely well. Every bread is baked in-house. Every sauce is made from scratch. I will defend our roasted garlic aioli with my life.

The current fan favorite is The Elm — smoked turkey, sharp white cheddar, pickled red onion, arugula, and a honey mustard that took me forty-one attempts to get right. Forty-one. My friends stopped returning my calls around attempt twenty-six.

Opening Day

We opened on a Saturday in March. I expected maybe a trickle of curious neighbors. Instead, there was a line out the door by 11:15. I don't know where they all came from. I think my mom might have told the entire town.

By 2 p.m., we'd sold out of three menu items. By 4 p.m., I was sitting on an overturned bucket in the kitchen, exhausted and grinning like an idiot. One of our first customers came back for a second sandwich and said, "This is the best thing on Elm Street." I'm getting that engraved on something.

What I've Learned So Far

I'm only a month in, so I won't pretend to have wisdom. But here's what I know:

People are kinder than you expect. Neighbors brought us a plant on day one. A regular already leaves crossword puzzles on the counter for other customers. The community showed up before we even asked.

Nothing goes according to plan, and that's fine. Our panini press broke on day three. The fix? A cast iron skillet and a lot of confidence. Customers didn't notice. Sandwiches don't care about your plans.

It is possible to love something and also be terrified of it every single day.

What's Next

We're working on a small catering menu. I'm experimenting with a seasonal grilled cheese series for the fall. And I'm trying very hard to take a weekend off at some point before the year is over.

If you're in Cedar Falls, come by. We're open Tuesday through Saturday, 10 to 4. I'll be the one behind the counter with flour on my shirt, looking slightly overwhelmed and completely happy.

Emma Whitfield is the owner of Stack & Co. in Cedar Falls, Iowa. She previously worked in marketing and now spends her time arguing about mustard.

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