A downtown legacy ends with one final meal at Domini’s
Surrounded by his closest family, Tom “Tommy” Domini melted to tears Thursday night as he spoke of his half-century of early mornings, customers and his beloved Spokane.
Domini gathered his wife; Judy; brother Joe; sister Nancy Beatty; his two soon-to-be wed children; and a nephew to partake in the standard bag of popcorn and the last Domini’s sandwiches ever to be made at the downtown family restaurant. They called it: “The Last Supper.”
“It’s overwhelming,” Tom Domini, 67, said between sobs. “I was totally emotional” he said as he described his last day of serving food at the restaurant that traces its roots through his father, Al, and Uncle Fred back to 1947.
Since he announced in September the closure of Domini Sandwiches, which has stuffed faces with fresh bread and mammoth portions of meat at its current location for the past 61 years, lines of customers have crowded the tiny restaurant for one last oversized bite of history.
Thursday was no different, said Joe Domini, 76, who retired in 2013 from the restaurant, at 703 W. Sprague Ave., and moved to Phoenix.
“The line was way out the door. It was like they were selling Taylor Swift tickets,” Joe Domini said. “It was nice to see old faces. I wanted to be part of this. It’s so special.
“It’s coming to the end of an era. I was part of it. Tom got pretty emotional today,” he continued. “Ever since he announced it was closing, it’s been pandemonium.”
The restaurant did get one new customer Thursday. Somehow Jack Thompson, former Washington State University quarterback known as the “Throwin’ Samoan,” made it through the 90-minute wait to get a sandwich and popcorn. He also posed for a photograph with Tom Domini.
“He was such a nice guy,” Tom Domini said of Thompson. “It was his first time here.”
Tom Domini’s daughter, Tori Domini, said Thompson left and then returned and asked for a copy of the photograph with Tom.
“I came by on my lunch break,” Tori Domini said. “It’s amazing to see the love from the customers and how he loves them back. It takes more than a day to make a legacy.”
Even when she was a little girl, Tori, now 29, remembers putting on a black apron and prancing around the restaurant trying to help out.
“My dad worked so hard,” she said. “His customers are all his family.”
New beginnings
While the last supper marked the end of the Domini family’s direct involvement, Tom Domini said he has agreed to sell the restaurant’s name and signature no-frills menu to current employee Nakia Tilton and her husband, Zach.
The Tiltons have found a location but couldn’t divulge its exact address until they work through some contractual and permitting issues. Nakia Tilton, 46, has worked at Domini Sandwiches since 2013.
“We are hoping to open by the end of January or the first of March,” Nakia Tilton said. “We want to continue their legacy. We are sad that it can’t be in this location, but the location is staying downtown.”
She quipped of the signature meat-cheese sandwiches: “We are not adding vegetables. It will be the same way that Tom’s dad and Tom did it. If it’s not broke …”
Zach Tilton, who has worked for 26 years at Tipke Manufacturing in Spokane, said he’s worked one day a week at Domini’s to get to know the business.
“I’m probably the one guy in the world who can tell his wife to go make a sandwich for me and not get in trouble,” the 48-year-old said.
Experiencing the sandwich shop the last three months has been revealing, he said.
“It’s three hours of controlled chaos. It’s a whirlwind,” Zach Tilton said. “I appreciate what my wife does every day. Soon she’ll be the face of the business. I’m there to support her.”
Vast history
The business was founded as the Stockholm Bar on Howard Street by Tom Domini’s father, Al, and uncle Fred in 1947. It competed with another set of Domini brothers who ran the New Deal around the corner.
A fire in 1962 at the business next door ended Domini’s tavern. It reopened in 1963 as Domini Sandwiches at 703 W. Sprague Ave.
The joint stuck to the same formula – bread baked daily, fresh meats sliced on order; look for salads elsewhere – that has sustained it from the beginning.
Asked how he would respond to customers who asked for a salad, Tom Domini lowered his eyes and responded: “This is not the place to ask that kind of question.”
In the restaurant’s 61 years of business, it compiled a roster of notable customers.
Back in the glory days of Triple-A baseball, the late Tommy Lasorda was a regular, coming in for the salami sandwiches.
Joe Domini remembered when the University of Washington marching band would order bags of sandwiches on its way down to Pullman for the Apple Cup. Joe Domini said the record order was 2,000 sandwiches.
But up until the early 1970s, the restaurant was technically considered a tavern.
In 1974, just in time for Expo, the Domini Sandwiches license was changed to allow families and minors to come inside.
Al Domini was always a large part of the restaurant. Tom Domini noted that his father, who liked to smoke cigars, lost a couple stogies that he later found had been wrapped up in sandwich orders.
Al Domini died on Nov. 5, 1999, at the age of 79. The family matriarch, Lena Domini, died Jan. 2, 2020, a month shy of her 99th birthday.
Perry Domini, Tom’s son, noted that about 45 of the 49-plus years (Tom’s 50th anniversary at the restaurant would have come in March) Tom has led the restaurant, he worked six days a week. Most of those days started before 6 a.m.
“It’s super cool” that he’s retiring, Perry Domini said. “He deserves it.”
But Nakia Tilton noted that Tom Domini has agreed to serve as a consigliere, or technical adviser, to make sure the new Domini Sandwiches continues as before.
She said the only possible change of the menu is that she might add soups at some point.
Tom Domini “will be there for the whole transition. I don’t want him slinging sandwiches every day, but he’s there to consult,” she said. “We don’t want anything to change.”
The Tiltons face a daunting trial to continue the family’s simple recipe for success, Tori Domini said.
“I hope that she builds just as big a legacy as my dad,” she said.