No one would raise an eyebrow that Or Shalom Jewish Community received a donated case of Manischewitz wine directly to its doors a few months back.
What might raise an eyebrow, however, is the source: shopkeeper Peter Tannous, who happens to be Palestinian.
For almost 29 years, Tannous, 54, and various family members, mostly brother Simon, have owned and operated Roxie Food Center at San Jose Avenue and San Juan in San Francisco. Roxie is a typical corner grocery that, along with beverages and snacks, sells sandwiches that are anything but typical. In 1999 it was voted best corner store in the San Francisco Bay Guardian’s reader’s poll, largely because of its sandwiches.
But even though Roxie sandwiches are held in such high esteem — causing some suburbanites to drive into the city just to get one — cold cuts are not the only thing for which the Tannous brothers are known.
“They’re very philanthropic,” said Carolene Marks, who has known the family for more than a decade.
“They’re very civic-minded. They are always there when asked,” said Marks, widow of the late State Sen. Milton Marks and member of the San Francisco Commission on the Status of Women.
And Tannous, who believes one should be involved in local politics, has benefited as well. One meeting of the city’s board of supervisors was adjourned early at the suggestion of Supervisor Gerardo Sandoval to honor the brothers’ mother who had just died.
They were honored when the mayor visited their store. Newsom? “No, Brown,” Tannous said. “Newsom will come.”
In two decades, the Tannous family has owned and operated up to 10 corner grocery stores, but now they are down to two: the original on San Jose Avenue, and a second, much larger one at Kirkham and Ninth Avenue.
At the Kirkham store, Tannous proudly carries a large Jewish section, where Shabbat candles are sold along with yahrzeit candles as well as Israeli products like Elite instant coffee, Telma soup powder and matzah ball mix. “People don’t make matzah balls only on Passover.”
Pam Frydman Baugh, the outgoing rabbi of Or Shalom, first met the Tannous brothers in their San Jose Avenue store, because her son Josh played soccer at Balboa Park across the street. They’d go in to buy water or Gatorade, and the kippah she usually wears proved to be a conversation-starter.
Now, they greet her with, “Hello, rabbi.”
While Middle East politics doesn’t figure prominently into their conversation, Baugh said “I am concerned with the pain of everybody, and that’s been a connection for us.”
Among Palestinians, the Tannous family is a minority within a minority; they are Greek Orthodox. The family’s patriarch, Tannous’ great-grandfather Constantine, came to Palestine from Greece during the Ottoman Empire, he said.
Tannous still has many family members in the Middle East. Most are in Ramallah, on the West Bank, but some are in Lod, in Israel. He worries about them all. Although he chose not to voice his opinions about Israel, he did say, “It’s all about the mighty dollar. If the Palestinians had a good living, too, they wouldn’t be fighting.”
Tannous’ philosophy offers a glimmer into his success. “We don’t only feed people’s bodies, but their souls.
“We’re all citizens of this world. I tell my employees if you treat people good, they’ll treat you good. I tell them that whoever walks in here puts bread on your table, so respect them.”