Author: J.R. McMillan (page 2 of 12)

Though best known as a freelance writer covering the culinary and cultural scenes, J.R. McMillan has also worked as a script consultant, featured columnist, photographer, publicist, and public radio producer.

From local beloved to nationally renowned brands, he applies his background in film and television to create compelling and persuasive narratives. His immersive research and in-depth interviews reveal the hidden story, and his insights and expertise are featured in multiple mainstream and industry publications reaching a wide range of audiences.

He is an alumnus of the W. Page Pitt School of Journalism and Mass Communications at Marshall University and lives in Columbus, Ohio.

August 1, 2020

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

July 24, 2020

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

July 2, 2020

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

July 1, 2020

Quinci Emporium’s Culinary Evolution

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

Between intrusive construction and coronavirus concerns, the retail disruption of the Short North has been interminable, if not untenable. But when your faithful clientele are still willing to fight for parking during a pandemic, you must be doing something extraordinary.

Deborah Quinci’s tiny Italian market may seem modest from the street, but one step through the door is in many ways a world away. Featuring imported provisions and authentic accoutrements for adventurous home chefs eager to up their game despite a crisis, the term emporium hardly sums it all up. What started four short years ago as a culinary boutique has evolved into a community kitchen for prepared fare, hands-on classes, and wine tastings. It’s an immersive retail experience defined as much by the passion of its patrons as the exclusivity of the selection.

“It reminds me a little bit of Dean & DeLuca, before they became so big. They were a grocery, a neighborhood store,” explained Quinci. “Italians love to gather together and share food, so our kitchen and cooking classes became an extension of that. We call it ‘convivial’ and it’s just part of our culture.”

Remote learning is all the rage, but teaching someone how to cook a time-honored recipe is where the internet still tends to fall flat. Technique is tactile and even the exact same ingredients don’t guarantee the same results. But she soon found her close-knit classes were becoming their own community, with students connecting socially beyond the space that initially brought them together. Suddenly, Quinci Emporium became much more than just a store.

“We wanted to explore more original recipes in Italy, some that are not even well known to me,” Quinci confessed. “I’m from Sicily, from the west part of the island. I don’t know everything they’re doing on the east or the north part of the island. They have recipes that I’ve never heard before.”

That curiosity resonated and soon became a destination, a week-long culinary excursion to Tuscany for a contingent of students to learn first-hand from masters of their craft, helping preserve experience easily lost over time. But with recent travel restrictions and uncertainty indefinite, Quinci Emporium’s latest instructional adventure has been more local and entirely online. Despite the inherent limitations of the format, enthusiasm and rapport closed the gap.

“We prepared baskets of ingredients already measured for everyone. They came and picked them up, or we delivered them so everyone was prepared,” she noted. “Everything was extremely detailed. We all knew each other, but I was still surprised by how well it went.”

The kitchen is the heart of any home, and that’s also true of retail stores that suddenly become restaurants essentially overnight. The shift from showcasing preparation skills and their edible inventory to serving prepared meals to-go wasn’t without its challenges. Supply chain concerns for imported items and limited availability from local vendors required some keen insights and novel negotiations to stay stocked.

“Sometimes, we used to give away the bread or the focaccia leftover at the end of the day. Now people are buying more than ever. I remember the first week of the pandemic, I had people coming in and buying up wine. They were worried we might sell out,” she revealed. “I called all of my purveyors and asked if they had any closeout wine, ones I could sell for up to $10 and have, you know, a pretty decent bottle of wine. They’ve become huge sellers and people are buying them by the case. Maybe they only used to buy really expensive bottles, but they’ve discovered a $10 bottle can be really, really good too.”

From sauces and spreads to spices and sweets, the staple for comfort food is still Quinci’s impressive selection of pasta. Cavatelli with porcini mushrooms for four is also $10, as is their risotto with porcini and white truffle oil for three, among more than a dozen pastas and “one-pot” dishes, ready for easy pick-up or nearby delivery—as well as all of the ingredients for those who prefer to hone their own skills.

“It’s a lot of pasta, but not just pasta. Salmon has proven very popular, and they can get buffalo mozzarella and our dough and make their own pizza at home. We haven’t noticed anyone avoiding carbs lately”, Quinci chided. “We’re here to preserve and celebrate traditions, but we also know this hasn’t been an easy time for everyone. We’ve learned to adapt, something Italian immigrants, all immigrants, have done for generations.” ▩

Menus and online ordering for pickup and delivery available at quinciemporium.com

July 1, 2020

COhatch Rethinks Coworking

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

Coworking is collaborative by design, the intersection of independence and interdependence. In many ways, it became the clever alternative to corporate cubicles or home offices, offering the advantages of both without the overhead or isolation.

But like every industry built around bringing people together, the climb now seems more steep for businesses based on communal space when the world and the way we work still seems so far apart. COhatch, among the first such endeavors in Central Ohio, is focused on the future of work, and the ways in which coworking won’t simply facilitate a return to so-called normal, but may become the new standard.

“COhatch was built by small business owners. We’re not this large company that sits back and just looks at spreadsheets asking each other how to optimize,” explained CEO Matt Davis, who remains reluctant when it comes to the “coworking” moniker, considering their larger mission beyond shared square footage. “We were also a group of friends trying to find a better way for our customers to live a balanced life.”

Anyone who has longingly hoped for years to work from home has probably had some buyers remorse in the past few months. That looming pile of laundry and sink full of dishes are the silent distractions companies have always feared would undermine productively. Now even skeptical remote workers are growing sympathetic to such concerns as the lines that define work-life balance become more blurred.

“We pride ourselves in being able to relate with small business owners. We built the kind of environment that allows us to thrive and get the most out of our abilities,” he noted. “So that’s why we’ve spent a lot of time trying to build spaces in the heart of communities where people live. If you live in Dublin, you may want to work in Dublin, not downtown.”

Dublin isn’t an arbitrary example. COhatch has quickly grown to five offices in Central Ohio, with Easton and Dublin among their latest, a new location near Dayton, and expansion into Cleveland, Cincinnati, and Indianapolis already underway. But these also aren’t cookie-cutter concepts. Their original Worthington locations were once a library and a hardware store, and the Polaris space is a former pub. “The Market” in Springfield is the reimagination of a century-old public market now featuring fresh produce, a shared kitchen, and local eateries as well as open and private office space. COhatch doesn’t cover up their character. They embrace it, incorporating it into the brand.

“We’re launching a whole new marketplace where members can sell goods and services. You can advertise or fund your startup. Everyone loves the whole buy local movement, but no one ever really says support your local freelancer,” Davis explained. “So we want to try to get back to smaller communities and build tools to make small businesses more visible and relevant. I actually don’t like being called a coworking space because we’re so much more. Nothing is really out of scope for us.”

Ongoing costs and loss of corporate culture are also serious concerns among even established businesses, once flush now facing an uncertain recovery. Reducing expense through an innovative approach to space was already an advantage COhatch had in its favor, now with newfound value among traditional enterprises of every size.

“We introduced our ‘No Small Business Left Behind’ campaign with a 75 percent discount for the first month, 50 percent the second month, and a 25 percent discount the third month. We also have a 50 percent reduced cost guarantee for large companies,” he explained. “It’s not going to be a 20,000 square-foot dedicated office space. It could be two private meeting spaces on each side of town with a creative lab and 35 coworking passes. But if you’re willing to rethink how you want to work, we’re willing to create something that fits.”

Supporting philanthropic efforts remains a crucial part of their own culture, more so with the current crisis pushing donations to unprecedented lows for many charitable organizations. Dozens of nonprofits also call COhatch home, leveraging evening meeting space and their network of members.There’s also a remodeled, vintage Airstream already used by local charities for mobile legal clinics, résumé writing workshops, even free haircuts for those in need.

“We’re trying to help businesses and nonprofits rebuild together. We need people doing good things, and we can’t let them fail,” Davis explained. “I’m blown away by how many of our members are active in philanthropy. Our nonprofit scholarships are probably one the most rewarding things we have done. It helps us extend our mission of a balanced life into the communities where we work.” ▩

For more on memberships, amenities, and locations, visit cohatch.com

June 1, 2020

Special Delivery

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

It isn’t easy to outhustle Amazon. The point-and-click purveyor of everything certainly hasn’t been hurt by the current pandemic. It may be the only business immune to it.

Meanwhile, small shops struggle to survive until they can reopen their doors. For many, the shift to direct delivery was born of necessity. With taprooms closed, local breweries were among the first to offer to-you-door service. But they aren’t the only ones rapidly reinventing the way they reach customers outside their retail space.

Spoonful Records | spoonful-records.myshopify.com

The beloved local record shop never needed a robust internet presence, pushing off the prospect of online expansion for years. They assured patrons the reason their selection was so exhaustive was because you had to come into the store to shop. Unlike digital downloads, records aren’t really commodities. Condition matters and trusted curators who inspect and clean each album by hand are even more rare than some of their elusive inventory.

“We stayed open by appointment for about a week, while I worked on the website, which was finished the same day the governor shut everything down,” explained Amy Kesting, who owns and operates the bustling album emporium with her husband Brett Ruland. “I think there were only 20 items, but every day we add a few more things. Our customers know they can have the same confidence buying from us, even online.”

Kesting isn’t an amateur when it comes to the logistical challenges of online sales. Though Ruland focuses on trends and follows new vinyl releases, Kesting concentrates on collections, acquiring the balance of classic and obscure albums that define Spoonful Records. A dot-com era stint processing artwork damaged during shipping also gave her more than a little apprehension about the prospects of making such fragile merchandise mail-order only.

“From the get-go we had to figure out the right shipping price. A box cost $1.50—a good box, not the single-fold ones—and most media mail is like $3.50 to $4.50. So we’re charging $5.85 for shipping, and if it was close by, we just started delivering them ourselves,” she explained. “I was like, I can drop this off in Bexley, or go to Upper Arlington today. No problem.”

Local deliveries started by bicycle, but soon moved to excursions outside 270. They hired a driver to ensure same day deliveries when possible, but they still make extended record road trips themselves.

“We let everyone know on Facebook when we’ll be in their area, and they can just add to the order. One day, we went to Marysville, Delaware, and Powell and made a huge trip of it, like 15 deliveries,” Kesting recalled. “It rained the whole time, but was totally worthwhile. It was kind of like couples time, listening to music together along the way.”

Early enthusiasm has helped offset uncertainties about the future, particularly Record Store Day, the industry’s most notable annual event, already delayed twice. The retail closure has also afforded the opportunity to sort through a couple of recently acquired collections, not that Spoonful Records isn’t busy.

“We try to be humble and realistic, but April was our best month in at least the last two or three years that wasn’t a Record Store Day month or holiday sales month,” she noted. “We actually did more in sales through the website than we do normally in our brick and mortar. We’re so grateful everyone has been willing to support us through this, we wish we did it sooner.

Roll Bicycle Company | rollbicycles.com

Launching a new location in the midst of a crisis may seem risky, but Roll is hardly a traditional retailer, offering the expertise absent from typical online sales experiences. With three Central Ohio locations and a fourth already scheduled to open, shifting gears was essential to meeting the needs of customers in an entirely new way through curbside service and at-home pickup and delivery.

“We made the decision right from the outset to close our showrooms to the public out of an abundance of caution for the safety of our team and the community. It was a values-based decision for us,” revealed Stuart Hunter, founder and CEO of Roll Bicycle Company. “But that allowed us to quickly move to determining how to continue to best serve our team and our community while preserving our business.”

The closure of gyms coupled with the inherent social distancing of outdoor activities actually increased interest in cycling for fitness and riding for recreation. It was a surge that came the right time for Roll, which was already preparing for the beginning of their busy season.

“At the time, no one anticipated a boom of people wanting to get outside and exercise. People were still reeling from the implications of what was happening and there was a lot of concern about whether we’d actually have a business coming out of the other end of this,” he confessed. “So we launched a brand new web platform within a space of four days from start to finish where we took our entire inventory online.”

There was never a debate about whether bike shops were considered essential. Much like auto mechanics, selling and servicing bikes was a business that helped maintain transportation. But meeting customers at the door instead of inside and creating a pickup and delivery service from scratch were all unfamiliar terrain.

“Another challenge that was unanticipated was just how much strain the change would take on our team, just the speed of adapting so quickly. Everyone was working really hard, but we were also burning out really fast,” Hunter recalled. “So we decided to close our stores briefly and give everyone a paid break to just go home, ride a bike, and take a pause before we came back.”

Roll’s new Dublin store opened alongside existing locations in Bexley, Westerville, and Upper Arlington, but with new safety standards still in place. Though shortages have hit many retailers, regardless of industry, Roll’s evolution three years ago as a manufacturer of their own branded bicycles also helped smooth out supply chain disruptions of their signature product line.

“Like any small business, there was an incredible amount of anxiety about our ability to survive. I was wondering whether the past 15 years of my life were coming to a close. We are fortunate enough to be in a category that has high demand,” he noted. “But we fully recognize not all of our peers in the entrepreneurial community are in the same situation. I look around and see great people having a hard time right now, and I’ve been really pleased to see how the community has rallied around local businesses we hope will return and thrive again soon.” ▩

June 1, 2020

Valter’s at The Maennerchor

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

Brunch has always been as much about the atmosphere as the meal itself. It’s an excuse to gather, indulgent by design. Even the most intentional takeout and delivery can’t duplicate the experience, and restaurants that consider it among their specialties seem even more empty than their vacant dining rooms suggest.

But the rush to return to some state of normalcy generated unintended controversy for Valter’s at the Maennerchor. The once bustling brunch spot and anytime standard bearer for Central European cuisine waded into treacherous waters when they announced intentions to reopen in early May for limited dining. Outspoken support was as fierce as online criticism, and the adage that there’s no such thing as bad publicity may never have been more wrong.

“Speculation at the time was that the governor might reopen restaurants on May 1, and we were ready to do so safely,” explained Valter Veliu. “When that turned out not to be so, I made some strong statements about the lack of certainty and the struggle shared by all restaurants.”

Veliu immigrated from Albania in 2005 drawn by the promise and opportunity he hoped to find over the horizon. Restaurants are often the first stop for new Americans, an industry built both on the talent and toil of the millions of immigrants it employs. But it’s also a classroom for learning a new language and culture, nuances that are all too easily missed in moments of crisis.

“What began as just a job became a passion. But my intentions aren’t and never have been political. I just try to help good people willing to help our community move forward,” he explained. “I soon recognized that even with the additional measures we planned to protect customers and staff, reopening too soon was not a risk worth taking, and I respect that.”

Frequent Facebook posts from the always animated Veliu have replaced the candid conversations his customers miss most. But between frustration and translation, his comments and context soon became decoupled, and declarations to reopen came across to many as defiance instead of desperation.

“In 2016, I was finally able to open my own restaurant with a lot of help from friends, and of course loans. My plan to pay off those loans was on track until the governor issued the order to shut everything down, including restaurants,” Veliu noted. “To be honest, I was a little concerned, but at the same time, it felt reasonable to quarantine to keep everyone safe.

Catering orders from essential employers have helped, as has some rent relief from his landlord. But like his fraternity of fellow restaurateurs, Veliu inevitably found his business sinking deeper into debt with no end in sight, and that same spirit of persistence soon boiled over, capturing the public’s attention, admiration, and ire. His Facebook page was soon flooded with sympathy, skepticism, and even a few threats—and an online apology didn’t seem to quell the controversy.

“My proposal to open the restaurant was with limited tables and patio dining, which is exactly how we opened as soon as we were allowed to do so safely,” he explained. “I’ve been involved in fundraisers supporting the efforts of community leaders who share my passion for helping people. I will always be thankful and appreciative for what this country has given me, and I’ve never taken it for granted.”

Valter Veliu’s success isn’t singular. It’s exactly the sort of story Columbus celebrates, one that illustrates the immigrant experience as one of triumph more than hardship. But the reality is that it’s rarely so simple. For every ethnic eatery that ekes out a faithful following, there’s a food truck one slow week away from folding up. The local restaurant scene still remains only slightly more supportive than it is unavoidably unforgiving.

Ironically, the same standards Veliu vowed to institute earlier match those required by the state to do so as safely as possible. He hopes this footnote fades and folks appreciate the uncertainty still facing restaurants, many of which may never return. Fortunately for Valter’s, loyalties aren’t so easily shaken and his first open weekend in months saw no shortage of returning clientele.

“We came a little earlier so there weren’t a ton of other people. But we put on our masks to walk in, and were escorted out to the patio where they seated guests at every other table,” recalled Mallery Grimm. She and her husband Darin live nearby and knew exactly where they would go for their first meal once restaurants reopened. “Valter came out with his mask on just to thank everyone for coming. I think we all were just excited to get out of the house and feel connected again.”

Takeout and delivery are still essential for restaurants to survive, and those with limited seating already are hit even harder. There’s also the expense of packaging, paper menus, and additional precautions that have kept some restaurants from reopening even though permitted for fear of losing more money than they take in. The entire industry is a long way from recovery, but brunch at Valter’s at the Maennerchor is still closer to normal than we were just weeks ago.

“My husband and I have been working from home since March and really haven’t seen that many people besides each other. Everyone was in good spirits just being out again,” she noted. “We had been doing takeout at least once or twice a week since this whole thing started to support our favorite restaurants, but it’s still not the same. There’s no substitute for a meal that comes out from the kitchen served in a hot skillet.” ▩

For more on Valter’s history, takeout and delivery options, and reservations, visit valtersatthemaennerchor.com

June 1, 2020

The Parlor

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

When The Parlor celebrated its first anniversary earlier this year, it came and went without much fanfare. After all, you can’t risk raising a ruckus over the concert venue equivalent of a speakeasy. Now, the quietly-promoted proof of concept may offer an unintended road map for the future of live music.

“We had the whole season booked, so when the situation quickly started progressing toward cancellations, I was calling the health department every day. Based on their advice, we stayed open until the restaurant ban hit,” explained the host of The Parlor, who prefers to maintain the same secrecy as his clandestine concert series. (Anyone who has received one of his cryptic messages or been to a show simply knows him as “The Man in the Black Hat”.) “We couldn’t quite tell what was happening or what was coming. Even though we’re not a restaurant, we decided to follow those protocols for the safety of our audience.”

For the uninitiated, The Parlor isn’t invitation only, but it is somewhat exclusive. Intrigued would-be attendees are vetted before they’re offered tickets to shows barely publicized beyond the close-knit community of recurring concert goers. Imagine the intimacy of a house show, but not knowing the address until an hour before the band takes the stage. That’s The Parlor. But it’s also not a clique. The audiences are as unassuming as they are anonymous, strangers in the same secret society who actually sign the stage to seal their pledge of silence.

From perennial favorites like The Floorwalkers, Mojoflo, and Willie Phoenix to notable locals like Josh Krajcik and Chris Jamison, The Parlor creates interaction often absent from the concert experience, and offers artists compensation from ticket sales more commensurate with their talent.

With restaurants reopening, but most live music events on hold, The Parlor is ready to parlay their unique niche, rescheduling events and forging new formats that still meet strict guidelines for social distancing. Stadium shows and lawn seats are still a long way off, but small and simple gets artists back on the stage in short order.

“We’ve been trying to get in touch with national acts who may have cancelled tours through Ohio and pair them with local artists in a house show format,” he revealed. “But there are also local artists who need gigs now. So we’ve been ramping up to do different types of experiences than we’ve done before, featuring pairings with local restaurants.”

Plenty of musicians are reinventing their relationship with fans, hosting Facebook concerts from home, hoping to make enough in online tips and selling a little merch to hold on until the industry figures out what’s next. But any degree of real recovery could be months away, maybe more. Arena shows have additional obstacles, leading some to worry whether they’ll return at all, or if the venues themselves long survive.

“I’ve been considering guarantees versus percentages of sales and how to structure those arrangements. But at the end of the day, I think there’s a great opportunity to continue to pay artists really well, just like we always have,” he opined. “Honestly, I hope promoters in town who currently can’t work with traditional venues reach out, because house concerts could really emerge right now as a way to make gigs happen.”

That’s the edge The Parlor has over typical venues. Now those smaller audiences seem safer and the larger cut of ticket sales sound even more appealing to performers. But that’s also why everyone from concert halls to the club circuit have been quietly conspiring to shut down house shows and their organizers for years — and why the man in the black hat is just fine remaining under the radar.

“I think the hardest part for me is the empathy I have for the artists. When the national unemployment rate was passing 15 percent, the unemployment rate for full-time performers was nearly 99 percent because there was no place to play,” he noted. “I’ve been staying in touch with them just to make sure they’re okay. Some have decided to retire, or take corporate jobs. Others are taking time off hoping things will go back to normal in a couple of months and are just trying to get by.”

One of the only entertainment venues prepared for a sudden comeback are drive-in movie theaters. Outdoor screens from coast to coast have seen a steady increase in interest, and with patrons parked in the confines of their cars, social distancing is in force by default. The Parlor’s latest venture launching this month hopes to tap into that same nostalgic experience.

“The Hidden Drive-In is the first departure from our established format, and will feature live concert performances and modern and classic films on a 30-foot display at an undisclosed location in Downtown Columbus”, he explained. “We want to create socially-distanced events our audience can still enjoy together.”

A launch and a fundraiser, the Hidden Drive-In is scheduled to premiere June 12 and 13, with two shows each evening. Tickets are priced for both bikes and cars, with the added bonus of fresh barbecue served on-site. It’s dinner and a movie unlike anywhere else. But it’s also the less conspicuous launch of an entirely new audio platform The Parlor plans to incorporate into future events, offering a fidelity unrivaled by typical FM transmitters or standard concert technology. True to form, the exact origins and specifications of the audio setup are also a tightly kept secret.

“We knew 80 tickets would cover our initial costs, and spread across four shows, it allows us to spread our audience out as well,” he revealed. “We also knew which space in Columbus we really wanted to present this first, and there are multiple prospects and partnerships where we could present in the future. We expect this to be a magical experience that will help us make decisions on where to host additional events beyond the Hidden Drive-In.” ▩

For details on upcoming performances, including the Hidden Drive-In, visit The Parlor on Facebook.

June 1, 2020

Sound of Silence

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

Columbus has always been a creative crossroads, an intersection of ideas. When Troy Stacy opened his unlikely convergence of a record shop, impromptu studio, and craft beer counter, it already seemed like too much to squeeze under one roof.

Yet in less than two years, the long-shuttered hardware store in Grandview has also become a credible concert venue for up-and-coming artists, added an expanded menu of musically-inspired paninis, and even published a book to parallel their famous pairings of classic albums with beers that best suit them. Call it foresight or fate, the inclusive name Craft & Vinyl seems more apropos with each new endeavor.

“The initial idea was to bring together vinyl collectors, music makers, and craft beer lovers, but we didn’t really anticipate bands knocking on the door and asking if they could play gigs here,” revealed Stacy. “The fact that someone would walk into our little space and want to bring their energy and creativity to our environment, I certainly invited it, but it took us a couple of months before we had the opportunity to build the stage, sound, and lighting they deserved.”

Emerging acts often struggle to book shows unless they know the right folks or have members connected to groups that are already established. The gap between garage gigs and even a basement bar can be daunting, especially for those focused exclusively on their own songs.

“It’s really challenging to get those first gigs, even more challenging if an artist or band is all about original music. That’s something that I love, music I’ve never heard before,” he explained. “There are a lot of great bands in our community who can bang out a cover and nail it. But I wanted to invite artists into this space and give them a platform to share music no one knows, an opportunity to engage audiences with something new.”

That enviable momentum came to a screeching halt in mid March, and like every small business, essential or otherwise, the labyrinth of government programs offered more dashed hopes than promised relief. Like most folks in the music scene, his passion was preceded by a less glamorous gig, in his case the insurance industry. So when Stacy started his business in 2018, his insights for finding the right coverage were formidable, and the fight now looming with his insurance company could impact small businesses across the country also trying to recover.

“We reached out to our insurer, Cincinnati Insurance, and our policy is in good standing. I have always paid my premiums,” Stacy stated, noting his coverage specifically includes losses incurred due to “prohibited access to the premises by civil authority”. “In fact days after they denied my claim, they sent me another premium notice. ‘Hey, don’t forget to pay your bill, dude.’ I felt betrayed.”

Point of fact, most commercial policies specifically exclude pandemics for a reason. More than a decade ago in the wake of the SARS epidemic, the industry lobbied Congress about the threat such losses could pose, crafting language to prevent claims during a crisis just like the one businesses face right now amid mandatory closures.

“My attorney said first of all, right off the riff, we know this is going to impact more than a hundred businesses. We anticipate it’s going to affect thousands nationally, and we filed it in federal court,” he explained. “If the case proceeds as a class action, Cincinnati Insurance will have to open up their books to the courts and disclose every single policy holder that has a policy like mine.”

Stacy is hardly alone in this fight. Even before seeking legal representation, he reviewed his policy’s fine print with former colleagues still in the insurance industry. The lack of exclusionary language seems to be an oversight, but a costly one that could serve as a legal precedent. Cincinnati Insurance Company covers numerous notable businesses in Ohio, but similar suits, raised mostly by restaurants, are also advancing in Louisiana and California. Wolfgang Puck is probably the most famous plaintiff so far, and even the White House has weighed in that if policies failed to exclude pandemics, then claims should be covered.

“The denial letter had things in it that I never even discussed or claimed. That’s when I knew they were putting me off, putting all claimants off, as they try to figure out what to do because they didn’t write their policies properly,” Stacy revealed. “They’re still out there taking money. I’m not sure what’s going to come of this, and I hope other businesses with policies like mine join the class action. At least now, Cincinnati Insurance knows my name, and I’m not alone.”

Legal maneuvering and loss of business aside, what bothers Stacy most is still the loss of community. Local bands aren’t the only beneficiaries of his small stage. Students from Capital University Conservatory of Music and Groove U present their capstone projects there, and School of Rock uses their space for recitals. He even offers studio time to students who wouldn’t be able to afford it otherwise. Craft & Vinyl is committed to inspiring the next generation of musicians, now entering an industry where the future remains very uncertain.

“We’ve built a Facebook following, but it’s never been about making money as much as keeping customers engaged. It helps promote bands, and new music, and events like PickTown Palooza or our partnership with PromoWest that don’t necessarily happen at Craft & Vinyl, but exist in our universe,” he noted. “It keeps us connected, but it’s not the same. I miss the bands on my stage, the conversations at the bar. I miss the music, but I miss the people most. We all do, and we can’t wait to see each other again.” ▩

For more on Craft & VinyI, and to reserve your copy of Pour and Play, visit craft-n-vinyl.com

May 1, 2020

Fired Up Pizza

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

Pizza is probably our most pervasive comfort cuisine, and a predictable staple for those who already preferred to stay at home. With ample options available for take-out and delivery, why would anyone choose one from their freezer instead? Fired Up Pizza is the answer.

After successive stints as executive chef at two Cameron Mitchell restaurants, Michael Rice was ready to create something entirely different, but still from scratch. His mobile wood-fired pizza oven for catering can turn out 60 handmade pies an hour. But with corporate events and family gatherings on hold, his fledgling side hustle selling frozen pizzas is heating up.

“I think people are really surprised how well it comes out. I get that a lot and when we do samplings at farmers markets or wherever I’m selling them,” revealed Rice, who founded Fired Up Pizza in part to create a closer connection with his clientele. “It’s not like a restaurant kitchen. When you’re making a pizza right in front of someone, it becomes a conversation.”

Farmers markets led to local grocers, like The Hills, Huffman’s, and Weiland’s, and eventually Marc’s and select Giant Eagle locations. From classic Four Cheese and Margherita to Pesto Chicken and Roasted Mushroom, even the chewy crust with a little char still holds up. Variety varies at each store, but he’ll deliver whatever you want to your door for a modest minimum order.

“Independently-owned, local grocery stores are a lot easier to get into just because there aren’t as many layers. They’re very supportive,” he noted. “It’s a more gradual process with larger grocers, but probably a good thing that we weren’t everywhere all at once.”

Shrink-wrapped and oven-ready, at a price point between typical freezer fare and a freshmade pie, Fired Up Pizza hits the sweet spot. ▩