Jeremiah Burns found his future between two slices of bread.
It arrived in a fit of desperation: He’d been a computer technician but got laid off. He’d opened a massage therapy business but got burned out.
Burns fell to his knees and asked for help. Then he turned to his wife Taylor and began firing wild business ideas like a machine gun — rat-a-tat-tat-tat — until one sounded just right.
“What about PB&J with Tay?”
He explained: “I love peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and it rhymes with your name and our daughter’s name, Taylynn.”
Taylor Burns laughed. “You’re ridiculous,” she said.
Unbeknownst to Jeremiah, Taylor went and did some research. Then she told him, “There are two peanut butter and jelly restaurants in the nation. But none in Texas.”
Seven years later, Yelp ranked PB&J with Tay the 33rd best sandwich shop in the U.S. The Olmos Park restaurant maintains a 5-star rating on Yelp.
Tucked into the neighborhood enclave and located atop a flight of wooden stairs , PB&J with Tay echoes a nostalgic, treehouse vibe. Think childhood fun and backyard eats.
Unique creations like “The Egg-cellent” (peanut butter, over-hard egg, bacon and strawberry jalapeño jelly) and the “Kitchen Sink” (peanut butter, Nutella, cream cheese, walnuts, bacon, banana, coconut flakes and choice of jelly) are served on Texas toast with potato chips.
Its acclaim extends beyond Yelp. On Facebook, PB&J with Tay is 100% recommended based on 331 reviews. On Google, PB&J draws a 4.9 rating from 543 reviews.
The hard times
The gourmet PB&J sandwich shop almost went under before it could open, which recalls another time Jeremiah went to his knees.
In 2019, Jeremiah found himself broke. He had no money to pay his home mortgage. None to pay rent for his other business, The R&R Station – Massage and Healing, nearby in The Yard strip center. Not a penny to finish PB&J with Tay.
“I’m done,” he told Taylor, a bartender. “I messed up. I don’t know where to go from here.”
Jeremiah had no experience in the restaurant business. He had no clue about permits. No idea about insurance and taxes. No inkling about startup costs. So he learned what he needed to know on the fly, hitting obstacle after obstacle, until he hit one that would not budge.
“I was halfway done,” he said, “and I couldn’t open.”
He had several friends investing sweat equity — cleaning floors, getting the place ready — who suddenly had to stop. Jeremiah’s plight moved a few of them, including Laurie Schweinsberg. She and her husband and son had helped remodel a vacant space that once held a hair salon and bridal gown shop.
Schweinsberg made a pitch: She would cover expenses in exchange for becoming a silent partner with 10% of the business.
“She hands me a massive check,” Jeremiah recalled. “And within a week, I paid my mortgage, I paid the massage shop rent, I paid for the restaurant, I loaded up on peanut butter and jelly. And I had my opening day.”
When Jeremiah thought his dream had ended, Schweinsberg became an answer to prayer.
“I had recently received an inheritance from my stepfather and I wanted to do something kind for someone,” Schweinsberg said. “Jeremiah has done a great job. It’s been a blessing to see how this restaurant has really bloomed.”
Forging ahead
PB&J with Tay served its first customers on Oct. 30, 2019. Within two weeks, KSAT-12 aired a feature on the sandwich shop.
“We were flying high,” Jeremiah said.
Four months later, the COVID-19 pandemic shut down the restaurant. While other businesses received Paycheck Protection Program money from the federal government, PB&J with Tay did not qualify.
“We had not been open long enough,” Jeremiah said. “It was brutal.”
When restaurants were allowed to reopen at limited capacity, PB&J remained virtually empty. Customers were too scared to venture out or decided to grab food elsewhere. The pandemic hurt Taylor as well. Unable to tend bar, she collected unemployment. Jeremiah, meanwhile, persevered, crafting one sandwich at a time, preparing takeout orders, earning just enough to remain solvent.
The pandemic lifted. PB&J opened to full capacity. Customers returned and posted glowing reviews about the food, the service and the cleanliness of the sandwich shop. Jeremiah was back in business and Taylor resumed tending bar.
Gratitude pours from his heart, wonder from his lips.
Jeremiah credits God for keeping his doors open, thanks his wife for supporting his passion and waits on the next customer.
He’s got a sandwich to make and he’s got to do it just right. As the house motto says, everything between two slices of bread is “made with love” and “served with kindness.”
