Hot Sauce Side Hustle

Originally published in COLUMBUS MONTHLY

photo by J.R. McMillan

If you noticed the lights on later than expected at The Lox in early April and ran in to get out of the torrential rain saturating the Short North, you probably gave the sign on the door a double take. The familiar din and diners were somehow replaced as the sounds and aromas of Oaxaca filled the air and patrons eagerly lined up for tacos, despite a tornado watch.

Wait, wasn’t this a nationally-renowned bagel shop — like this morning?

Don’t worry, those perennial boiled and baked breakfast classics aren’t going anywhere, nor is Chef Silas Caeton. But his signature Sabo hot sauce is another story, as he prepares to expand the brand to additional retail locations and online sales.

“I love pop-ups, where creators are really passionate about putting something new out there in a limited format, whatever is in the forefront of their minds at the time,” Caeton says. “It’s a chance to create a menu that pairs with the hot sauce with my background in Mexican food.”

For Caeton, that personal history dates back long before his tenure as executive chef at Cosecha Cocina. His parents lived in Mexico for stretch, and his siblings were born there. Though not Mexican by heritage, it was a formative experience that influenced family meals and his relationship with recipes and authentic ingredients from an early age.

“Being at The Lox for the past four and a half years put all of that on the back burner to really focus on bagels, which has also been an awesome experience,” Caeton says. “But it’s a muscle I still want to utilize on the side, to experiment with those flavors and tap into those memories.”

Though Tabasco was his brand of choice growing up, he eventually ventured into more nuanced options. But the right balance of spice, texture, and consistency remained elusive. Cosecha Cocina was the impetus to start creating his own variations, and for those who already know Sabo, its presence at The Lox long preceded its recent availability in bottles.

“It’s more than the typical vinegar-based hot sauce, somewhere between a classic hot sauce and a barbecue sauce in thickness. It’s smoky and spicy, but not overwhelming. Hot sauce should complement the food, not overpower it,” Caeton says. “But there’s also a sweetness, not too much, and the Mexican oregano adds this beautiful floral note to it. It’s a very deep, savory sauce.”

When it comes to new menu items, tacos or otherwise, hot takes are often the best takes. Earlier pop-ups at The Lox have been highly popular, now ticketed events to help better predict exactly how popular in advance and are expected to become monthly events. Guests choose from among five refined interpretations—chicken “al pastor”, cochinita pibil, chorizo, sweet potato, and barbacoa—as well as a supporting cast of accompaniments including black bean tostadas to shrimp a la parilla. All are created to showcase Sabo, which is still billed as a hot sauce, but is surprisingly versatile in bringing complex flavors together, not just adding heat.“

Sabo is currently available at The Lox and Joyas. Our near-term goals is add local grocery stores and online sales with a long-term goal of larger chains,” Caeton says. “But it’s still exciting to see regular customers and guests bite into something new and realize the hot sauce that’s now in bottles is the same one they’ve had on their bagel sandwiches for years.” ▩

For dates of future pop-ups and retail details, visit sabosauce.com and follow them on Instagram @sabosauce

… a spicy Postscript

There are no rules when it comes to condiments and how to use them. Here are a few more signature sauces to tempt and test your palate from throughout Ohio — all with their own unique heat.

Cleveland Ketchup Company’s Ghost Pepper · clevelandketchup.com

Husband and wife duo Matt and Lisa McMonagle are new to the condiment scene, but hit the ground running five years ago with fours varieties of the sweet and savory standard. Dollop some of their hot ketchup on a Cuban Frita, the humble hamburger’s Caribbean cousin.

Mister Mustard and Mrs. Mustard · woebermustard.com

Carl Woeber started his Springfield business with a horse and buggy. More than a century later, this spicy couple still stands out. Forget about boiling that brisket. Cover your corned beef in hot or sweet mustard and brown sugar, wrap it in foil, then bake until it’s fork tender.

Sandwich Pal Smoky Horseradish Sauce · woebermustard.com

The raw root vegetable can be overwhelming. But the mix of mayo and mesquite makes this more recent offering from the fourth generation of the Woeber family an underground success. Squeeze a little into your mashed potatoes or add some heat to your deviled eggs.

CinSoy Chili Crisp · cinsoyfoods.com

Queen City Chef Sam Pellerito is all in when it comes to authentic Asian flavors. His creations are small batch and sublime, yet the combination of Szechuan peppercorns and cured garlic in his chili crisp is spice-forward. Drizzle a little on fried pork chops for an extra kick.

Double Comfort Fiery Chipotle Bourbon Sauce · doublecomfortfoods.com

There’s almost too much going on to fit into the distinctive flask-shaped bottle. But one nip and you’ll suspend your skepticism. Those who remember Mary Lyski’s restaurant are familiar with the Memphis influence. Give your chicken drummies a toss for a taste you’ll not soon forget.

Black Cap Hot Sauce · blackcaphotsauce.com

Chef Jack Moore is also shaking up the local hot sauce scene. Fermented and unfiltered, the probiotic first offering from his latest endeavor is only found in the cold case. Add a generous splash to your Bloody Mary for a hangover helper that will clear your head and your sinuses.

Check websites and social media for retail and online availability.

Film Review: CODA

CODA generated both industry buzz and impossible expectations coming out of this year’s virtual Sundance Film Festival. An acronym for “child of deaf adults”, CODA is the first entry to ever win the Directing Award, Audience Award, and Grand Jury Prize — as well as a Special Jury Prize for Best Ensemble. Netflix and Amazon were both eager to acquire the rights to the film, but Apple Studios ultimately prevailed, premiering in theaters and on their signature streaming service August 13. It is the first theatrical release to have burned-in subtitles, making it accessible to hearing-impaired audiences everywhere without the need for special glasses and supporting projection technology.

Writer-director Siân Heder’s adaptation of the French film La Famille Bélier feels entirely original, despite some familiar themes for a coming-of-age story. Actress Emilia Jones plays Ruby, the only hearing member of a deaf family from the modest fishing town of Gloucester. Rising hours before dawn to work aboard her family’s tiny fishing trawler, she returns exhausted to endure the anxieties and drudgeries of high school. But what secretly stirs her soul is singing, a guilty pleasure she embraces, belting out Etta James with abandon into the vast ocean knowing no one can hear her.

Though this setup sounds like a cacophony of cliches and trite archetypes, Heder’s taut screenplay and directorial restraint somehow make CODA feel surprisingly fresh and inspired. The visual style, from the deft composition of each shot to the deliberate color palettes, highlight an artist’s attention to detail and reflect the quaint serenity of her native Massachusetts. Scenes that could easily descend into predictable dialogue between parent and child about following your heart instead create greater distance as familial obligations seem destined to undermine Ruby’s unappreciated gift. Though there are echoes of Running on Empty and Goodwill Hunting, the plot and its constituent parts never feel overly contrived or overtly derivative. Comparisons are somewhat inevitable, so if you’re going to have them anyway, likening a film to the work of Sidney Lumet or Gus Van Sant is high praise.

Performances from Marlee Matlin and Troy Kotsur as Ruby’s parents, and Daniel Durant as her older brother, are complex, clever, and captivating. With extended conversations exclusively in American Sign Language, audiences who feel overwhelmed following their facial expressions, animated gestures, and fast-paced subtitles will gain a small glimpse of the challenge of having to listen with only your eyes. In a particularly pivotal scene, Heder drops the audio out entirely, an immersive and emotional reveal that will likely leave audiences silent as well. Eugenio Derbez’s performance as Ruby’s choir teacher and mentor adds necessary levity, yet still amplifies the urgency of her looming choice to leave her family or abandon her dream.

However, Jones’ poignant portrayal is so subtle and sincere, it does what few performances from relative newcomers, or even seasoned screen veterans, tend to do. It genuinely suspends disbelief. Not only is her performance as the family’s de facto interpreter completely credible, her vocal abilities capture the raw joy of singing for someone who doesn’t realize she can really sing. Point of fact, Jones had to learn to sign and to sing for her role, making the authenticity of both all the more remarkable. But Ruby’s story is actually two stories, and that may be where CODA succeeds and shines most. Just as the awkward teen begins to consider a future beyond the deck of her family’s struggling fishing boat, the unlikely opportunity to audition for Berklee College of Music starts to slip away. Though she is in many ways isolated from her family by her ability to hear, she is simultaneously the sole connection they have to their community, one where they’ve only recently become less alienated after organizing a fishing co-op to help their neighbors fetch fair prices for their collective catch.

Without spoiling the ending, Ruby’s mutually exclusive worlds converge in a climatic closing song that illustrates why Apple was willing to write a check for $25 million without blinking, the highest amount ever paid for a Sundance film.

Though it’s a film rooted in universal family dynamics, there are some scenes that are probably too racy in subject matter for younger audiences. That said, CODA is sentimental without apologies, alternating between laughs and tears through a natural narrative that is thought-provoking without becoming preachy or political. Though this is likely the first exposure many will have to writer-director Siân Heder and actress Emilia Jones, it surely won’t be the last. ▩

CODA premieres in theaters and on Apple TV+ on August 13.

FILM REVIEW: ROADRUNNER

For those who may have missed mention of it earlier, Roadrunner, the controversial documentary on the life and death of Anthony Bourdain, releases today in theaters.

I received advanced access to the film, and it is as humbling as it is haunting. For someone whose reputation seemed to be built on brash and abrasive behavior, often for its own sake, his sincere love of food and travel was perhaps only rivaled by his reverence for strangers he met along the way and the cultures they were so willing to share.

Tony, as friends, family, and a fair number of fierce fans and dismissive critics knew him, remains an affable anti-hero — an unapologetic iconoclast who sucked the marrow out of life, sometimes literally.

The second act turn exploring his trip to the Congo narratively echoed Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, and visually mirrored Apocalypse Now — both among Bourdain’s favorite books and films. Much like Captain Willard, by the end of the documentary, he had become Colonel Kurtz.

No streaming date yet, but with CNN and HBO as producers, it will inevitably arrive on both platforms. Though Bourdain’s personality and the exotic backdrops deserve to be seen on the largest screen possible, there was admittedly a familiar comfort watching him again in his natural element. Sitting on my couch listening to him narrate his own posthumous biography was at times eerie, but Tony surely would have appreciated the irony.

The greatest challenge of this film was to balance the treatment of tragedy with respect while never minimizing it. Roadrunner accomplishes this task with unfiltered grace and honesty. The documentary was both a celebration and a confession, a chronicle of a life well-lived, but also a cautionary tale.

Bourdain was undeniably a tortured artist plagued by doubt, from failed personal and professional relationships to decades of self-destructive tendencies. However, the filmmakers never reduced him to that trite oversimplification. The film, culled from unflinching interviews, archival footage, and previously unseen outtakes from his candid career and unlikely celebrity, is immersive, illuminating, and heartbreaking. ▩

ROADRUNNER premieres in theaters on July 16.

Monster Mashup

Originally published in COLUMBUS ALIVE

Ask any band what frightens them most at the moment and it’s probably the prospect of empty stages with no end in sight. It even scares the members of Mummula, whose spooky shtick should be selling out gigs right now instead of lingering in the shadows.

“With all the uncertainty with the virus, it became a question beyond whether venues were going to be open and more about if they would be safe for the people we care about,” confessed Eric von Goosebump. “We don’t want to have our fans, friends, and family come see us and then get sick. I think we collectively decided let’s just play it safe and kind of tap out for a while.”

With all the grit of a garage band, the members of Mummula perform horror-inspired hits and credible covers dressed in matching black capes and bandaged heads. Loyal fans are already in on the gag, but the uninitiated are often left wondering whether these four guys are for real or just a ghoulish gimmick intended to hide a bunch of retro rock wannabes.

“People are genuinely surprised when they listen to us because we do a really nice punk show, but we have some garage rock elements in there as well as the surf instrumentals which really resonate when it all comes together,” explained Mark Hovthevampyre. “It’s like a full-package, variety, Scooby-Doo kind of show singing about monsters and aliens.”

Mummula is very real, and any doubts are settled as soon as they take the stage, hitting predictable power chords at a break-neck beat with catchy tunes like “My Baby’s Turnin’ into a Wolfman” and “Ed Wouldn’t”. Every song is unexpected, with members trading traditional instruments and vocals, and the occasional cameo from a keytar or kazoo. They even have their own fan club cleverly called The Wrap, keeping their growing legion of followers hip to their happenings throughout the Midwest, even as the pandemic persists.

From traditional club gigs to tiny charity performances, Mummula defies description or easy categorization. They’re surf meets snark, punk meets parody — as if Dick Dale founded Devo, or Joey Ramone and Weird Al conspired to create the genetic lovechild of Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi.

Sadly, several annual events were cancelled or delayed indefinitely this year, like the local Fraternal Order of Moai’s Hula Hop and Point Pleasant, West Virginia’s Mothman Festival. In fact, Mummula’s last show before everything wound down was the Horror Prom at Spacebar, a Valentine’s Day “paranormal formal” for ghoulishly attired couples. It was an unintentionally ominous milestone just as the thin line between dark fantasy and harsh reality was about to blur.

As if their signature swag and pseudonyms don’t give it away, there’s obviously some deft design and branding expertise among the members, more than a subtle hint to their day gigs. Like most bands, moving music and merchandise online instead of at shows has become the standard, but they’re also spreading some goodwill as the chill of fall settles over Ohio. The band launched Mummula face masks earlier this year with all proceeds going to the United Way Worldwide’s COVID-19 Community Response and Recovery Fund, and an upcoming release to benefit the Movember Foundation next month builds on a prior EP to raise funds for the men’s health initiative.

“One gig that stands out for me was when we played HorrorHound Weekend several years ago. The crowd was huge. That was probably our biggest show so far, so it was kind of terrifying,” recalled El Santos. “But we were in our element, connecting with a bunch of horror fans, and we got to end the day with a lot of bigger bands in the horror punk scene.”

There is indeed a “horror punk scene”, but hardly obscure or recent. Though Mummula’s origin technically grew out a running monster mashup gag among the founding members during a road trip to a horror convention, the story actually goes back to the late 80s. The Canadian band Forbidden Dimension so captured their imagination, when Mummula eventually released their debut album in 2016, they asked the lead singer (and fellow graphic designer) to create the cover. The relationship came full circle when both groups shared the same stage in Nashville, illustrating the unique genre’s ability to connect fans and bands despite the distance and decades between them.

“Mummula hits all of these different communities — people who love surf, people who love punk, people who love monsters,” noted Kevbot 2. “I think that’s the thing I miss most, when you go to a show and you play for someone who hasn’t seen Mummula and they dig it, they’re surprised, and it completely makes their night.” ▩

For more on Mummula, visit them on Facebook and Bandcamp.

Hammer Time

Originally published in COLUMBUS ALIVE

Whether mending a hem or making your own pizza, the pandemic has pushed many to hone practical skills at home, often at an accelerated pace. Remember how quickly folks went from baking sourdough to brewing their own beer?

But there are still some skills you can’t learn on Youtube, those that require a steady hand that only comes with experience, especially with arts quickly fading away amid advancing technology. So if blacksmithing is on your bucket list, Adlai Stein is your mentor for all things metal.

“I used to go to the Met in New York with my grandfather and look at the arms and armor. I loved history, but was also fascinated by Tolkien and tales of King Arthur,” Stein recalled. “That sense of adventure was always in my head, and I joined a medieval reenactment group called the Society for Creative Anachronism. That’s what got me started in blacksmithing, and I’ve been doing it ever since.”

The artistry of ancient weapons that captivated him as a child inspired the hobby that eventually overtook his occupation as a paralegal. Despite taking off his tie for the last time and picking up a hammer, it still took Stein years beforehand to master the tools and techniques to become a full-time blacksmith.

Classes at the Idea Foundry in Franklinton soon outgrew the space, so Stein relocated his studio, Macabee Metals, to a larger shop off of Central Avenue and started the Central Ohio School of Metalwork. In addition to private lessons, workshops have opened to door to those whose interest may be tempered by apprehension. From sand casting to railroad spike knives, everyone leaves with skills and an individual experience you won’t find elsewhere — and a finished memento forged with their own hands.

“The maker movement has really changed the perception of products that are made by hand, and the people who make them,” he noted. “Things that used to be viewed as inferior unless they were mass-produced are now in demand. People want to know how things are made, and who makes them.”

Blacksmithing was already enjoying a bit of renaissance even before the COVID crisis. The History Channel series Forged in Fire has emerged from cable television curiosity to become a top-rated show entering its eighth season. Stein competed himself in the third season, and later helped prepare another local contestant for the unforeseen challenges of the competition. He’s also been a featured speaker at TEDxColumbus, sharing his journey from artist to educator.

“Blacksmiths are such a tight-knit community of people, we’ll really don’t compete against one another. We’re all doing our own thing,” Stein explained. “You may go to a knife show where you know everyone there making handmade knives, but they’re all unique. It’s kind of like going to the Arnold [Sports Festival]. You don’t get mad because someone enjoys the same thing you do. It’s a chance to learn from one another.”

When you’re swinging a hammer and moving hot metal from a forge to an anvil, social distancing is second nature instead of an afterthought. Slowly shaping an abstract slab of steel into a purposeful profile, quenching the blade, then grinding and polishing it to a refined finish takes about four hours. But much like Forged in Fire, it’s time that goes by faster than you think. Beneath the controlled chaos there’s a sense of Zen to the entire process, equal parts art and science. What may have started as a one-time indulgence might just become your new favorite past-time.

Though Stein admits the perception of blacksmithing, somewhat perpetuated by the show, is “40-year-old white guys with beards”, interest doesn’t fit a predictable mold any more than two knives turn out exactly the same. Exhibitions at events like Summer Jam West cast a wide net, and his students for private and group classes have leaned decidedly younger and more diverse over time, some of whom are considering becoming blacksmiths themselves someday.

“I have 16-year-old girls who come in and kick ass, and 40-year-old men who get tired and walk out. Some people think it’s all about strength, when it’s really about accuracy and patience,” revealed Stein. “It takes someone who is fearless to be able to look at 1800 degrees of metal to say, ‘I going to move this with a hammer.’ It’s a different kind of strength, the strength of character.” ▩

For more on the Central Ohio School of Metalwork, including upcoming workshops, visit cosommetalwork.com

Wonderful Wizard of Za

Originally published in COLUMBUS ALIVE


Columbus style pizza is an enduring enigma struggling for distinction among a dozen or so signature styles in Central Ohio, both celebrated and obscure. Thin crusts and square cuts are the obvious attributes, but maybe even that widely-accepted definition is dangerously narrow?

Spencer Saylor didn’t set out to cause a stir, but his homemade Sicilian pies did anyway. If you haven’t heard about Wizard of Za, you’re not alone. Saylor’s underground pizza empire has been inconspicuously operating for months exclusively on Instagram. But the improbable backstory of how a singer-songwriter from Youngstown ended up with a list of thousands of strangers waiting to try one of his handcrafted creations has been equally elusive.

“When I was a kid, I loved making pizza with my dad. He’d make the dough and I’d help put on the toppings,” he recalled. “You might go out for pizza on a Friday night or for someone’s birthday. But homemade pizza was just part of growing up in Youngstown.”

Music was also a family tradition. Saylor’s father played guitar, an instrument he likewise pickup at an early age, and his mother loved to sing. His grandmother was a music teacher and his grandfather used to tour with Johnny Cash. So when Saylor pursued songwriting, it wasn’t exactly non sequitur. But getting invited to open up for John Mayer caught even him by surprise.

“I used to sit in my bedroom listening to his songs since I was probably seven. I never thought in a million years we’d be sharing the same stage,” he confessed. “I hoped I might see him someday from the nosebleed seats of an arena. Opening for him was actually the first time I saw him perform.”

Like many professional musicians, Saylor also had a steady gig. Event planning afforded him the opportunity to travel a lot, which was the original inspiration for Wizard of Za, a visual diary of exceptional local pizza discovered along the way. But when the pandemic cancelled nearly everything in March, he started to hone another craft from home, reinventing the comfort food of his childhood and chronicling that journey on Instagram instead. Saylor pulled back the proverbial curtain and more than a few folks started to take notice.

“The more photos I’d post, the more people asked to try one of my pies. Once friends and family got their hands on it, they started posting to their Instagram accounts. The next thing I knew, I had people I didn’t know reaching out wanting one as well,” he explained. “I’d thought about maybe opening a restaurant two or three years from now. It’s hard to believe it’s only been four months.”

Time somehow moves slowly and quickly during a crisis. Though opening up a restaurant right now while so many are struggling to stay open may seem half-baked, Saylor’s savory side hustle isn’t. Buckeyes and Blue Jackets players whose seasons were sidelined were among his earliest unofficial endorsements, as were a surreal mix of celebrities who happened to pass through Columbus and heard rumors about this random guy slinging serious slices, from Chef Robert Irvine to John C. Reilly.

Their curiosity and enthusiasm are entirely deserved. The crunchy focaccia crust is covered in sesame seeds on the bottom instead of a dusting of corn meal, giving it an unexpected nuttiness. The spicy homemade sauce and cup-and-char Ezzo pepperoni are balanced by bubbly mozzarella and provolone in-between. Saylor then hits every pie with a drizzle of hot honey, grated Pecorino Romano, and a little fresh basil. His vodka sauce variation with fresh mozzarella he also makes himself is a culinary case study on how simple, yet sophisticated, pizza can be.

Is it the classic Columbus style pizza? Definitely not. But if that definition is distilled to something more essential — singular and authentic, steeped in family history, and a passion for people and the city they share, then yes. Wizard of Za is everything we love about pizza in Columbus.

The eminent opening of his still secret brick and mortar location in Clintonville will maintain the speakeasy mystique, absent any obvious signage outside. And though some may dismiss such a strategy as shrewd marketing or simply pretentious, it’s actually quite the opposite.

“I’m a one-man show, and the only reason there is a list is so I can keep up. But even with a restaurant and doing this full-time, I still want everyone to feel like they’ve discovered something new and unique,” Saylor noted. “Columbus has solid pizza all around. But I think Columbus has the power to make its mark like some of the better known pizza destinations in the country — like New Haven, New York, and Chicago. To be one of those places people come to Columbus to visit, that’s the kind of list I’d like to be on someday. ▩

To get in line for your own pie, and for the latest on his brick and mortar endeavor, follow the Wizard of Za on Instagram

The Hidden Cost of COVID

Originally published in the August 2020 issue of (614) Magazine

Restaurant margins have always been thin, and the costs are often hidden. Manufacturing has materials, restaurants have ingredients. Retail may have slow days, restaurants have expiration dates. Factories don’t slow down at the clap of thunder, and shopping malls sometimes see a boost. But if your business is built around a bustling patio, between staffing and spoilage, you might actually lose money when the weather turns. It rains on everyone eventually, some more than others. And when it comes to a pandemic, it’s been raining on restaurants for months and the skies seem to be getting darker by the day.

Katalina’s epitomizes everything folks love about the Columbus culinary scene. The original location turned an abandoned gas station into a heralded Harrison West haunt, and the eponymous café in Clintonville transformed a vintage fountain pen store into something worth writing home about. Quirky and clever, it’s a kitschy kitchen that elevates each dish into art you can eat, and Instagram posts from her patrons are practically as pervasive as her signature pancake balls.

“I think restaurants are one of the safest places to be right now because they are monitored more than almost any business,” noted owner Kathleen Day, whose seasonal seating offered essential expansion for both locations. “I take all of my feedback from people like the Ohio Restaurant Association, the CDC, and the Columbus Health Department. And what we know now is that outdoor seating is safer than indoor seating.”

Not unlike curbside pickup or the serendipity of a drive-thru window, patios have become even more coveted in recent months for those who have them, and a bureaucratic hurdle for those hoping to add or expand one. For now, Katalina’s is focusing on takeout and delivery, which wasn’t even an option until it likewise became essential. But delivery services come at a high cost beyond just the percent of sales and added packaging expense for food that typically leaves the kitchen on a plate instead of in a bag. Concerns about quality control and the brand implications are sincere for restaurateurs already struggling to retain staff and remain open.

“A national chain doesn’t have the same kind of social media following at the local level, so they’re probably not under as much scrutiny as I am, especially with the new cancel culture. I will be under a microscope immediately,” she explained. “The restaurant industry has one of the lowest profit margins already, and I have extraordinarily high food costs on purpose because I use local, organic, and ethical food. If people want to go back to an era where we only have chain restaurants and large conglomerates, they may see that soon.”

Though the capital city is home to a number of notable national names, there is still a fierce loyalty to local businesses and brands. However, the fear of blowback is just as real as the added operating expense and emotional toll of potentially watching a lifetime of work slowly slip away over a matter of months. There are beloved local restaurants that simply will not survive, and for those that do, that price is also largely hidden.

“These are new costs for a lot of restaurants—take-out containers, paper menus, delivery services. They had to invest in new signage and if you’ve been inside restaurants lately, you’ve seen the decals on the floor and new signs. Stand Here. Don’t Go There,” explained John Barker, president and CEO of the Ohio Restaurant Association. “Availability of gloves and face coverings add even more pressure. Hand sanitizer is up to around $39 a gallon, which is triple what it would have been a year ago.”

The Ohio Restaurant Association has emerged as a lifeline, offering advocacy informed by a century of insight among its membership. (Really, the organization was founded in 1920.) The present pandemic has upended the industry more fundamentally than any crisis or cultural shift since prohibition.

Among their most visible initiatives are the Ohio Restaurant Promise, a pledge posted for patrons outlining steps taken to ensure their safety, and their Employee Relief Fund, offering financial assistance to those struggling during unprecedented times. From navigating complex government programs to securing necessary cleaning supplies, among the most pressing concerns facing restaurants are the specialized sanitizing procedures required after a positive case of COVID-19 is confirmed among guests or staff. The cost of cleaning, depending on the size of the restaurant, is typically several thousand dollars, and exceeds the standard expected of most businesses.

“We’re not seeing grocery stores closing down, or hardware stores closing down. In many cases a deep cleaning by the restaurant is all that’s required,” he noted. “But we have seen restaurants close, out of an abundance of caution, and we help them understand their responsibilities and to follow health department guidelines. Safety is always our first concern.”

Trust comes from transparency, and businesses like Stauf’s, Barcelona, and Katalina’s have set a new standard for being entirely open with employees and their clientele about interruptions, added procedures, and the extra steps they’re taking to continue serving customers safely, despite the current crisis.

“Katalina’s is Katalina’s because I have more long-term employees than the average restaurant, and I have the most amazing customers in the world. So right now, I’m going to do takeout and delivery,” Day noted, but confessed the future remains uncertain for her restaurant and the entire industry. “My customers are so loyal, they will sit out on my patio in the snow, and it amazes me and inspires my employees every time. But whether you have a patio or not, for small restaurants struggling to survive, it’s going to be a really rough winter.” ▩

For the latest on Katalina’s, follow them social media and at katalinas.com
For more on the Ohio Restaurant Association, the Ohio Restaurant Promise, and their Employee Relief Fund, visit ohiorestaurant.org

Newfangled Kitchen

Originally published in the August 2020 issue of (614) Magazine


Comfort food is always in style, though not necessarily in season. Salads and soups seem to oscillate with our celestial orbit, and even the temperature of coffee and tea tends to change with the autumn leaves. But maybe meatloaf is the exception, or should be?

Newfangled Kitchen in Bexley gives more than a nod to approachable cuisine and southern hospitality, one that started with signature sandwiches celebrating the hamburger’s hefty cousin, but certainly doesn’t end there.

“We draw a lot of inspiration from the South — the small towns in the Carolinas where you’ll stop for a bite to eat and the food and service are homemade and genuine, not canned,” recalled Eric Dennison, who started Newfangled Kitchen with his wife Laura and their son Ethan. “We wanted to create comfort food favorites with a modern twist.”

Despite the unassuming menu, Eric’s previous stints at Katzinger’s and Lexi’s on Third reveal a refined understanding of humble ingredients and their precarious balance. From the low-country Southern Melt’s spicy pimento cheese, tomato, and red onion on grilled marbled rye to the ominous Lucifer’s Hammer, with pickled jalapeños, pepperjack, and house “diablo” sauce on an egg-washed bun, the star is still the meatloaf.

“We ate so much meatloaf trying to get the recipe right. It took months, and sometimes we just had to take a weekend off,” he laughed. “I’d change one thing, certain this would finally be it, and it would be the worst one yet. We were still working on the perfect recipe when we signed the lease.”

Perhaps the only thing that brings families closer together than a quarantine is a family restaurant, and the tiny kitchen and dining room next to Drexel Theaters is just the right fit for a curated menu of sandwiches, salads, soups, and specials. Though currently closed for dine-in, takeout patrons can still peruse their peculiar vending machine, stocked with 80s artifacts: like PEZ dispensers, a deck of UNO cards, and Top Gun on VHS. Everything about Newfangled Kitchen invites another visit.

“Ethan is so stellar when it comes to service, he’s just gifted with that gene. And my wife is so great with the guests and really understanding what it takes to market on social media. Then I handle all the production stuff in the back,” Eric chided. Much like meatloaf, the right recipe holds everything together. “We decided when we reopened that it was best if it was just the three of us, and we reduced our hours to make that work knowing we were going to be spending literally every hour of every day together. Financially, it made sense to stay lean, but we also knew it would be more safe for our guests.”

There are undeniable advantages right now for restaurants that can practically calculate their overhead, labor, and food cost on the back of a napkin. But when your signature product’s primary ingredient is unaffordable or unavailable, even the best bootstraps may not be enough. When Wendy’s announced in early May even they had run out of hamburger, it was a gut check.

“It’s really, really important that we have the right grind, the right fat content, which makes the sourcing more difficult. When we found a good price, we’d buy it, and fortunately, we were so busy when we opened back up, we weren’t forced to freeze anything. We’ve never done that, and I don’t know how that would work with our meatloaf,” he revealed. “There was about a day and a half when we didn’t have meatloaf. I just couldn’t get ground beef anywhere, and when we did, it was almost three times as expensive. We just had to take the hit.”

Recent additions include a Valentine’s Day throwback. The Pretty Girl offers more of a sweet heat featuring those same jalapeños, but with a milder cheddar, red onion, and smoky “fang” sauce. Meanwhile, the Back Step Slide combines bacon, bleu cheese, and balsamic aioli. Both are perfectly served between thick slices of grilled marbled rye. And if a killer “Kitchen Kobb”, a fried slab of bologna, portabellas and roasted red peppers, and egg salad cleverly billed as “barnyard caviar” are also your style, skip the basket and grab a sack on the way to your favorite park for a picnic feast without the fuss.

“We’re seeing a lot more repeat business now that everyone is staying closer to home. So we broadened the menu a little to keep everything fresh,” Eric explained. “Sometimes we see the same people three days a week. It’s also a bit more fun on our end, to be creative. It isn’t always easy to smile behind a mask. But it becomes exponentially easier when you have the kind of clientele we do, and the outpouring of support we’ve received has been so heartening. Failure for us just isn’t an option. ▩

For more on Newfangled Kitchen’s current hours and specials, follow them on Facebook, and visit newfangledkitchen.com

Sexy Supper Club

Originally published in (614) Magazine’s digital daily, 614NOW


Restaurant openings have become rare recently, and nightclubs are almost an afterthought. Which is precisely why Ivan Kane’s Forty Deuce deserves your undivided attention, even if a little striptease wasn’t on the menu.

“We’ve adapted our burlesque show to more of a supper club, to keep everyone comfortable and safe. We’ll still have our live trio and performances, but it will be a little more exclusive to ensure social distancing,” explained Ivan Kane, whose previous ventures in Los Angeles, Las Vegas, and Atlantic City helped put corsets, fishnets, and risqué routines back into the mainstream. “It’s really not a compromise. It’s just a different experience.”

You’ll still find red velvet seating in an intimate setting, but with a deliberate attention to the practical realities of operating during a pandemic. Discrete cleaning during club hours and ultraviolet lighting after the doors close are among the added measures Kane demanded before he was ready to open the latest addition to Easton Town Center.

Shows are also limited to just 55 patrons spread across the club with inclusive pricing for drinks, dinner, and dessert—currently craft cocktails, bottle service, a selection of signature items from the café downstairs that is the counterpart to the club, well-hidden behind a freezer door at the back of the kitchen. Evenings offer two shows during the week, with a later cocktails-only show on the weekends.

“Forty Deuce is actually one of the safest rooms in the city because of these extra precautions we’ve taken,” he noted. “It’s a challenging time for everyone right now, and I hope we can provide a little respite from all the pressure.”

Performers Michelle Mejia and Tori Kent recently relocated to Columbus after auditioning in Los Angeles earlier this year. Both were already professional dancers, having worked with recording artists from Iggy Azalea to Janet Jackson. But the allure of burlesque and the chance to be part of something new drew both to Forty Deuce.

“People seem to think burlesque is another form of stripping. But it’s a performance with a live band and extravagant costumes,” Mejia explained. “We tease, but don’t take it all off, and that’s what makes the dance exhilarating, for us and the audience.”

Forty Deuce feels more industrial than the average nightclub, and distinct from the diner motif of the café below. But the design is intentional with bar tops and banquets connected by catwalks that turn the entire establishment into a stage. Pipes become props for inverted performances and an inconspicuous zipline carries dancers over patrons heads.

“I also have a background in gymnastics and Taekwondo, but this is actually my first experience with burlesque,” revealed Kent. “There are a lot of jumps and splits, and hanging upside down in our performances, so it still intertwines with that training.”

Columbus may not seem like the obvious city to open a sexy supper club. But May would have marked the return of the Midwest Burlesque and Rockabilly Weekend if not for COVID cancellations—and the Ohio Burlesque Festival in Cleveland, was forced to push their annual event from August to October. Our speakeasy scene is hardly a secret either, with basements and back rooms hosting bootlegger-inspired bars that are legal, but still mostly known only to the locals.

“I hadn’t thought about the Midwest to be perfectly honest, but it wasn’t a hard sell,” Kane confessed. “Once I saw what an incredibly sophisticated, diverse demographic is here, how vibrant and forward-thinking the city is, it was a no-brainer.”

Kane is somewhat notorious as a hands-on operator, and Forty Deuce is his passion project. His wife, better known by her stage name Champagne Suzy, deserves a degree of credit for the burlesque revival. Both will likely become more familiar faces around town having procured a place in the Short North, while still splitting time managing venues elsewhere.

“I don’t develop projects and move on. I’m on the floor involved in the choreography, the costumes, the lighting, the menu. So it’s imperative to be here,” Kane noted. “Los Angeles, Las Vegas, and Atlantic City are sexy. But Columbus was hands down the best decision I ever made in terms of viability, in terms of the community. I just love it.” ▩

Additional details on dining, showtimes, and tickets at fortydeuce.com

Summer Camp Soap Opera

Originally published in (614) Magazine’s digital daily, 614NOW

Summer camp is a rite of passage wrapped in revelry, rivalry, and romance — but rarely murder. So when Thurber House (humorist James Thurber’s former home turned local literary center) rushed to push their summer camps online this year, they feared some of the creative connectivity might be lost among aspiring young writers.

Hoping for a hook, camp counselors Justin Martin and Frankie Diederich decided to challenge campers with a genre they’d never tackled before: writing an original soap opera. Entirely on a whim, Martin took to Twitter to see if anyone happened to have a connection to the industry.

“I genuinely didn’t expect it to go anywhere, I didn’t even tag anyone. But an hour later I had half the cast of Days of Our Lives,” recalled Martin, whose disbelief still lingers. It was a plot twist even campers didn’t see coming. “California’s stay-home order was so uncertain, we never knew when everyone might go back to work. Even when we told writers and their parents the night before the performances, some of them didn’t believe us.”

Though daytime television isn’t an obvious obsession for middle school students, nearly every novel of young adult fiction is essentially a soap opera. And Days of Our Lives is set in the fictional Midwest city of Salem — folksy yet sophisticated, and never short on scandal, not unlike Columbus, Ohio. It’s a short stretch that only seems non sequitur.

“Everyone started with a blank page, but by the end of the week, Frankie and I had helped them create a complete screenplay. But the cast was still a shock,” Martin explained. “Kids admire anyone who has made a career out of doing something they love, and these actors and actresses were so enthusiastic, flexible, and generous. They were every bit as into it as the campers.”

It was actress Martha Madison who happened to see a retweet of Martin’s request and matter-of-factly replied, “Can I bring some friends?” She soon roped in more than a dozen of her costars, all equally eager to give a bunch of adolescent screenwriters the performance they deserved despite a pandemic.

“I’m a big believer in fate. It was an easy ask, everyone said yes,” revealed Madison, better known to many as Belle Black. Her character’s parents John and Marlena have been synonymous with Days of Our Lives for decades. “There was so much character development, and they all had love and murder in the plot. They were real soap operas.”

Like many nonprofits struggling to adapt, the shift to online programming has actually expanded the reach of Thurber House. Much like parents working remotely, kids from across Ohio, and from New York to California, also received insightful lessons in craft and collaboration from screenwriter Amanda Beall, whose credits include The Young and the Restless, All My Children, and General Hospital.

“If you’re a creative person, none of that goes away just because you’re stuck at home. You can still share your experience with anyone anywhere,” Madison noted. “I was very impressed with the writing. I’d love to work again with any one of these kids someday.” ▩

For more on Thurber House and upcoming events and programs, visit thurberhouse.org