Nestled in between the austere Christchurch and domineering St Patrick’s cathedrals, Bite of Life stands out with its pale blue facade – there has been many a time on a drizzly walk to Trinity that I’ve considered taking refuge in there instead. At the moment, the café is emblazoned with a “Celebrating 20 Years of Business” banner, so I wanted to find out exactly how they have managed to endure the economic tumult and significant social changes in Dublin over the past two decades. I talk to manager, Jorinde Rolsma, on a characteristically overcast morning about what she thinks keeps the business thriving.
As it turns out, the origins of Bite of Life are as wholesome and organic as the food and drink they serve. “In 1997, my husband and I walked by this place, which was a typewriter repair shop, and obviously there was no business anymore for typewriters to repair and the shop was for sale. Conor [Moynihan, Rolsma’s husband] just saw the potential between the two cathedrals and the neighbourhood, so we bought it and turned it into a café.” They opened it “without any real experience” and on an “impulse”, but their instincts were clearly correct. Much of Bite of Life’s initial custom was drawn from its novelty: there weren’t any cafés in the area at the time, so they “had a queue out the door from all the architects in Fumbally Court and all the locals from the neighbourhood who were all delighted we were here”. Their fresh juices and sandwiches marked a great departure from the fare available at nearby newsagents, hence why they “were busy from day one”.
Since then, the pair have never looked back, constantly developing and expanding the business by paying specific attention to what their customers want. Their clientele, by Rolsma’s estimation, is about 80 per cent regulars, the rest comprising of tourists, businesspeople and staff from the nearby BIMM Institute and Liberties College. Her estimation certainly seems accurate, as during our conversation, she and the staff greet every customer as warmly as if they are old friends, which may in fact have been the case. The fact Bite of Life has survived, or rather thrived, despite the financial highs and lows of recent years is remarkable. Just as the recession hit, Rolsma recalls how the café “actually became a little bit bigger. From about 14 seats we kind of doubled it”, and it was this expansion that helped them to endure. “More people came in – tourists that found it a little poky in the beginning now felt there was space for them, and that made us survive.” During the Celtic Tiger period, despite more and more cafés popping up in and around Dublin 8, Bite of Life “were so established already” that any potential threats to business never really materialised.
The “personal touch” is most important. This is why they never opened a second store – for fear of losing the familiarity on which the café prides itself
While it prides itself on being a sandwich and juice bar, these humble origins have since been built upon, in accordance with the “no-business-model” that is in fact their business model. Initially, they started out with just a few basic options, but since then their menu has expanded. The café has about fifteen salads and a few years ago Rolsma began to make quiches “on top of the homemade cakes”. The goal is to do only a few things, but to do them really well. While her husband has been enthusiastic about the prospect of offering pizza and ice cream in-store, Rolsma is less keen, thinking it will be “too diverse”, as well logistically difficult in their limited space. She instead hones existing recipes and combinations based on customers’ preferences and food trends, so “it slowly, organically, actually grows – the café, the menu, the customers”.
Naturally, it is not only local custom that is the life force of the café: the behind-the-scenes work is the foundation of what makes it successful. When not in the café, Rolsma bakes at home. Her repertoire includes gluten-free and vegan options, which were inspired by “a demand” from customers. But she does not run the show alone, as the shop has a lot of staff, one of whom has worked there for 15 years. Like Rolsma, she now knows the regulars, which only serves to bolster their appeal as local and welcoming – the café’s reputation is in “safe hands”. Bite of Life sometimes branches out into catering, usually taking on an event at a local office or venues such as St Patrick’s and Marsh’s Library “every other week”. While this is good additional business, it is far from her priority: the “personal touch” is most important. This is why they never opened a second store – for fear of losing the familiarity on which the café prides itself.
Though Rolsma is “always working” she is quick to assure me that it is manageable because it’s on her own terms – not only has the business developed organically, but so has her personal schedule. Rolsma juggles her baking and time in the café while also being a mother-of-four. I ask her if she thinks any of the children would be interested in taking over the business. One of them is “only 10, but he loves cooking and baking”, so perhaps a managerial or chef’s role could be on the cards. Rolsma shows no sign of stopping yet, however, and says that it wouldn’t be all that surprising if she was still here in 2037. Here’s hoping when I return to 55 Patrick St then, Bite of Life will still be as bustling and cheerful as it always has been.
