Our story begins a long, long time ago in a land far, far away. It was November 2008 when Puyallup citizens approved an “annexation” of the City of Puyallup’s fire department into Central Pierce Fire & Rescue.  So what was to become of all the old used Puyallup Fire Department equipment?  The flashing sirens?  The sweaty, smoke-scented fireman jackets?  My request to sniff the armpits of the jacket belonging to the hottest fire fighter was denied — so what other possible resting place could there be for this stuff? 

The Answer: Sparks Firehouse Deli in Puyallup.

Paying homage to what once was, Sparks Firehouse Deli owner Chris Johnston proudly displays newly donated Puyallup Fire Department artifacts upon his well-crafted brick walls. Sparks Firehouse Deli is a warm and inviting neighborhood establishment, offering grab-and-go and dine-in options. Large firehouse-styled garage doors open up to an across-the-street view of Sparks Stadium, while a Firehouse Deli camera films the scoreboard in action — the score displayed on a television inside. This provides an easy escape for those keeping track of any Puyallup High School or PLU athletic event.

Sandwiches are named such firehouse terms as “The Hazmat” (delicious pulled pork), “The All Hands Ruben” (loaded with meat), and “The Brigade” (Salami and pepperoncinis?  Yes, please!). Of course they have a Chipotle Spinach Dip, signifying that things are “on fire,” while the hot wing selection gives three spice options: false alarm, two alarm, and three alarm.  Deli Manager Eric Hobbs told me his three alarm wings are specially made with a secret sauce, and definitely meant to burn your mouth.  I told him I’d be the judge of that, and decided to go ahead and try the three alarm wings. 

He wasn’t lying.

After Johnston refused to pay for the reconstructive surgery on my charred lips, I ordered another beer and asked him to sit down and talk.  At this point I was seeking revenge, so a DeRosa line of questioning was in order. 

CHRIS JOHNSTON: You know, Steph, it was memories with the DeRosa family that gave me inspiration for the feel of Sparks Firehouse Deli.

STEPH DEROSA: I think you’re just buttering me up.  I’ve got my attorney on speed dial.  If the heat on my lips doesn’t extinguish soon, you’re in big trouble, buddy.

JOHNSTON: I’m not kidding.  I grew up with your cousin, Gaitano DeRosa, and some of my favorite childhood memories were of us hanging out at Viafore’s Italian Deli in Fircrest.  We used to be able to walk in, eat what we wanted, and he would put it on a family tab.

DEROSA: I can’t believe he trusted you and Gaitano.

JOHNSTON: That’s just the way it was.  It was a family, and it had a homey, neighborhood feel.  That’s what I envision for Sparks Firehouse Deli.

DEROSA: You mean to tell me you’d trust a young Chris Johnston and Gaitano DeRosa?

JOHNSTON: We want families to be able to run tabs, and to know that we’re more than just a business that opened up on the corner.  We want to be a part of their memories growing up.

DEROSA: Awwww, that’s sweet and all, but my lip predicament has not yet been rectified.

JOHNSTON: Well what is it I can do to make it better?

DEROSA: I see you have all this fireman paraphernalia, but where are the hot firemen?

JOHNSTON: How would that help your lips?

DEROSA: ………..

JOHNSTON: Steph?

DEROSA:  Sorry, I was daydreaming about hot firemen.  They would extinguish my lips, duh!

JOHNSTON: Oh good grief.

DEROSA: Hey, I know how you can make it up to me.  Tell me an ingredient in the three alarm wings. 

JOHNSTON: Um, I think there’s some piri-piri in it.

DEROSA: What in the hell is piri-piri?  You just made that up, didn’t you?  Where do you find something like that, anyway?  Do you make it illegally in your garage?  Do you get it on eBay?

JOHNSTON: Our Food Services of America guy gets it for us as a favor.  We do him favors in return.

DEROSA: Is he hot?  My lips still burn, and I know a favor he can do for me. …

[Sparks Firehouse Deli, 621 Fifth St. S.W., Puyallup, 253.840.DELI]