Author: J.R. McMillan (page 4 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.

November 1, 2019

Six Years of Columbus Soup

Originally published in the November 2019 issue of (614) Magazine

Big things have small beginnings, sometimes just a spoonful.

Columbus SOUP started as a simple concept, borrowed as great ideas often are. Audiences come together to share bowls of soup from local restaurants, listen to pitches from a collection of community advocates, everyone votes with their signature green spoons for the project they want to fund, and the ones with the most votes receive a small grant. Imagine Kickstarter with a supper club spin meets Shark Tank for social change.

“It really struck a chord with me, as something we could pull off, and that would really resonate with the Columbus community,” explained Liz Martin, executive director of Columbus SOUP. “Our city is really receptive to people with a passion for new ideas.”

Introduced through a friend to earlier efforts in Illinois and Michigan, Martin connected a cadre of folks involved in various local community-building efforts over tea on a cold winter’s day to see whether there were enough combined skills and bandwidth to launch a similar SOUP in Central Ohio. Six months later, on June 9, 2013, Columbus SOUP hosted its first event, amid more than a little uncertainty.

“We thought if 35 people showed up, it would be a success. We reached out to people we thought might be interested and received six applications,” she recalled. “All of them were invited to pitch, and we packed the house with more than 100 people at Brothers Drake.”

The idea undeniably resonated and grew to nearly two dozen events in the years that followed—and nearly $60k in grants so far. But it also offered the invaluable experience of distilling an idea down to its essence, then selling it to an audience of strangers with a succinct and inspiring pitch.

“The heart of SOUP nationwide is to fund projects that may not be eligible for traditional funding. These micro-grants give people exactly what they need to achieve something small, yet impactful, in their communities,” Martin explained. “Most of us grew up in an age of giant checks where it seemed like only the wealthy could be philanthropic. SOUP brings philanthropy down to a level where anyone can make a difference.”

Themes quickly became a concept unique to Columbus SOUP. Chicago’s version was created to support arts and culture, while Detroit’s was adapted to serve social justice. Columbus SOUP is both, yet neither, providing access and an audience to a variety of community-led projects that don’t always fit easily into obvious boxes.

Also there since the start is Bryant Miller, director of Columbus SOUP, and among the first folks Martin recruited to the cause. His infectious enthusiasm and knack for putting everyone at ease was also the perfect match as event host, welcoming new and familiar faces, ensuring presentations run smoothly, and sharing the results of voting in a way that recognizes everyone’s efforts—not just those who receive funding at the end of the evening.

“The magic of Columbus SOUP is that it’s very different than any similar organization because we allowed it to morph into what Columbus needs. We just tend to say yes to a lot of things,” Miller revealed. “When we were at the Idea Foundry a couple of years ago, there were some folks who had never been to one before who asked us afterward if we could help them host an event for teenagers, and we said, ‘YES!’ It was an event that reached an audience we hadn’t before. SOUP is about saying yes, giving people a chance, and not trying to put everything in the same box.”

Crowdfunding and collective philanthropy only seem like a novel idea inspired by the internet. But the notion of ordinary folks doing extraordinary things with a humble investment is hardly new. Back in 1938, the National Foundation for Infantile Paralysis was still a small and obscure organization that needed a boost, even in the midst of a polio epidemic. That’s when radio and film comedian Eddie Cantor asked Americans from all walks to send 10 cents to the organization’s founder, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. The response was unprecedented, with tens of thousands of letters pouring into the White House the week of FDR’s birthday—just as Cantor requested when he coined the phrase, the “March of Dimes”.

The indelible idea stuck, eventually becoming the name of the organization now focused on providing a healthy start for new mothers and their infants. That sounds like a tall order, but so too was curing polio with pocket change.

Without hyperbole, Columbus SOUP is not so different, offering a solid start to ambitious initiatives with a donation many of us have in our wallets, pooled together to achieve something no one could do alone. SOUP has likewise accomplished its original goal to inspire grassroots ideas and small-scale investment, which is why the next Columbus SOUP will be the last, putting a proverbial lid on the concept and making room for what’s next.

“It’s easy to get hung up on the idea, and many do, that organizations need to go on forever to be significant, and I just don’t believe it. I tend to think of it like a story. What story did we set out to tell? We wanted to share philanthropy in a completely different way,” Miller explained. “We loved the concept behind micro-grants, because they create the opportunity to be the very first group of people to believe in an idea. We feel really good about what we’ve achieved and have accomplished everything we wanted to do. That’s our story.

Everyone has watched a television series or film franchise that effectively ended long before it was over. Columbus SOUP didn’t want to make that mistake by presuming everything worthwhile extends indefinitely. But they’re really only half right. If every event was like a pebble thrown into a pond, the ripples continue to make waves that grow, intersect, and change shape long after the stones were cast. Quantifying the lasting impact six years of SOUPs have had on Columbus is impossible, because the ripples just keep going.

“I think about how distraught everyone was when Independents’ Day ended. All of that energy didn’t go away, now it just goes somewhere else,” he noted. “When you look at all of the new events and festivals inspired by Independents Day that only started after it ended, you can still see the impact.”

The final event, billed as “SOUP’s Last Hurrah” was originally set for November. But an accidental scheduling snafu afforded the opportunity to extend the application deadline, ensuring everyone from presenters to donors won’t miss their chance to celebrate, say goodbye, and raise their spoons one last time.

“We decided the final Columbus SOUP should end how it started, without a theme. We’ve had projects reach out to us that never quite fit into one of our recurring events or common categories,“ Martin explained. “It’s a chance for all of those ideas to finally be heard. This will be the last Columbus SOUP, but it’s still the beginning of something new.” ▩

For details on Columbus SOUP’s final event, or to apply to pitch your idea, visit columbussoup.org

November 1, 2019

The Garten Of Gemüt

Originally published in the November 2019 issue of (614) Magazine

It takes more than glass mugs and an umlaut to make an authentic German biergarten. Columbus has no shortage of beer or brats, and our undeniable ethic heritage puts the bar pretty high for anyone tempted to tap into the old country without seeming opportunistic or insincere. That’s why Gemüt Biergarten was so long in coming, and well worth the wait.

Inspired by their travels and smitten with the sense of community found among the biergarten scene in Germany, Chelsea Rennie and Kyle Hofmeister knew they wanted to build something together that balanced business and ambition with family and friends. Even their pending wedding didn’t diminish or defer their dream. They were in it together—for better or “wurst.” But they soon found themselves sharing that vision. Rob Camstra and Nick Guyton, already acquainted and formerly of Four String, pitched the couple on brewing their own beer on-site instead simply offering imports and an authentic atmosphere. The idea made financial sense and the fit was fortuitous, as the four found their talents and experience so complementary, a new partnership was obvious and inevitable. Finding the right place proved more challenging.

“We always wanted to be in Olde Towne East, we all live here. But after a year of site selection, we just kept hitting walls,” recalled Rennie, Creative Director for Gemüt Biergarten. Her husband Hofmeister serves as CEO, with Camstra as Director of Brewing Operations and Guyton as Head Brewer. All are co-owners. “We knew wherever the brewery would be, it had to be on solid ground. Everywhere we looked was heavily critiqued. We had to know how much weight the floors could hold, or if we could add onto the building.”

The search slowly expanded, at one point including an old firehouse off South Parsons. But ultimately the building that was once the Columbus Music Hall, also a former firehouse, offered the old bones, ample parking, poured slab, and an enormous outdoor courtyard to complete the allocation of essential spaces. However, firehouses can be complicated retrofits, often as immutable as they are beautiful. Intricate stained glass and warm wooden features now soften the stark utility. The interior isn’t simply transformed, it transports you to another continent. Astute patrons can still spot where the old truck doors used to be, and aside from some subtle architectural cues, Gemüt looks and feels like it was transplanted intact straight from Germany in a giant crate labeled, “Biergarten: Just add Water, Hops, Malt, and Yeast.”

But biergartens aren’t built overnight, and long-awaited is also a polite euphemism for long-delayed. Unforeseen factors contributed to an opening that led into Oktoberfest more by accident than intent. The federal government shutdown earlier this year pushed Gemüt’s brewing operation back months, followed by a liquor permit fiasco that forced a last-minute cancellation of their soft open. Neither scenario is unique, or even uncommon, but the team’s collective experience in both the brewing and restaurant industry helped adjust expectations, avert disaster, and push forward.

“The building was empty for 10 years, so there were some changes in zoning that popped. We were actually ahead of schedule, and then it became a waiting game,” she revealed. “We submitted the paperwork for our brewer’s license in December, but because of backlog from the government shutdown, we didn’t get it approved until July. There were months when we had no idea when we would start brewing or finally open.”

Beer is essentially bread you can drink, but it takes more than an hour in the oven and time is the only commodity you can’t buy at any price. However, delays sometimes offer a silver lining, getting to revise, refine, and set the stage for a well-oiled opening instead of a hurried or haphazard one. Executive Chef Adam Yoho’s menu continued to evolve just as Jeni Van Hemert expertise as Operations Director helped keep the entire project on track without letting the focus on customer experience suffer, despite bureaucratic interruptions that were unavoidably and out of their hands.

“It seemed like we were constantly waiting. It was a curse, and a blessing,” Rennie conceded. “We had more time to organize, as uncertain as it was. We just made it work, and when we finally opened, we could enjoy it with family and friends without the stress we expected.”

The menu still isn’t static, but it certainly isn’t your typical bar food, with seasonal offerings complimenting traditional standards and a credible beer selection. Rennie’s Macedonian family recipes make an appearance among a variety of chef exclusive wursts from The Butcher & Grocer, signature schnitzel, even a double-boned 20-ounce pork chop and a confit Cornish hen. Gluten-free and vegan options from Pierogi Mountain round out a menu with something for everyone. A wide wine choice, clever cocktails, and unexpected punches are served alongside their authentic German-style beers. The “Woden’s Hunt Dunkel” proved so popular, they actually blew through 30 barrels in just three weeks. Brunch specials on the weekends have already made it the breakfast brewery of choice among those seeking something hearty and heady.

“We may consider a larger commercial kitchen or additional brewing space elsewhere. There will only be one Gemüt, but we’re already considering future concepts,” she revealed. “Because we had such support from our investors, it allowed us to get everything we needed upfront. We never planned on a second phase, with construction interrupting operations after we opened. But this was always meant to be the stepping off point for the next project.”

Even among the owners, there’s an exceptional egalitarianism rare among restaurants and taprooms, the absence of which tends to undermine operations before the first plate or pint is served. The room for individual expression and unnamed passion projects already brewing is a fitting metaphor for the name that emerged late in the planning process, but on time and on brand.

“We knew we got it right when we opened and people instinctively started sharing tables, meeting neighbors they didn’t know. Gemüt is short for ‘gemütlichkeit’, which is the feeling you get in a biergarten. It’s about community and acceptance,” Rennie revealed. “In Germany, at a biergarten, everyone’s equal regardless of social status, income, occupation, you let all of that go. It’s about coming to drink and eat and celebrate together.”

Gemüt Biergarten is located at 734 Oak Street. For hours and operations, visit gemutbiergarten.com

October 15, 2019

A Candidate’s Dining Guide to Columbus

Originally published in the October 2019 issue of (614) Magazine

Columbus is used to letting folks know what we think, particularly when it comes to what we eat. Increasingly rare are restaurants that don’t first test new recipes and menus here before rolling them out across the country.

Our enviable intersection of demographics and popular culture take on additional significance every four years when the race for the White House heats up and inevitably stops in Central Ohio. Our state remains a reliable political bellwether of who is most likely to become the next president, or stay so. No republican has ever won without Ohio, starting with Abraham Lincoln. And we’ve only been wrong once since before WWII, picking Nixon over Kennedy. (No one’s perfect.)

But the race arrived a little earlier this time, with a dozen entourages and enumerable news crews all angling for a breakout moment. The Democratic Party Primary Debate in Westerville at Otterbein University wasn’t scheduled there because they have a big auditorium and ample parking. Every campaign knows Ohio doesn’t just predict the next president. It sometimes decides it.

So it would be a shame for all of these candidates and a growing gaggle of political pundits to come all this way and miss out on a great meal with the everyday denizens who are in all likelihood going to determine the direction of the country for the next four years.

Here’s a short list of suggestions for presidential hopefuls who might like to grab a memorable bite, shake some hands, sincerely listen, and maybe even seal the deal.

Tommy’s Diner | 914 W Broad Street

This Westside, working-class breakfast and lunch counter has no shortage of options or opinions. Elected officials are as easy to find here as fried eggs. Even the New York Times sent a reporter in camp out in a booth all day in 2016 to take the temperature of voter frustration from across the political spectrum. If you want to impress the regulars, order the Big Breakfast—over-easy, pick your pig, and ask for a waffle instead of hotcakes or French Toast. Cut back on the extra carbs by sharing your home fries with your handler.

Ray Ray’s Hot Pit | 2619 N High Street

Nationally known and proudly homegrown, this smoldering standard in the Old North neighborhood attracts even the academics with its gritty authenticity. There are few metaphors for democracy more fitting than standing in line talking politics at a food truck waiting for smoked meat off the bone or on a bun. Can’t decide? Try everything with a Meatsweats box of brisket, pulled pork, jerk chicken, dry rubbed ribs, and a hot link. Wash it all down with a cold Cheerwine. It might score you some poll points in the Carolinas.

Dulce Vida Ice Cream Factory | 2400 Home Acre Drive

Legit Mexican frozen confections have been a hit with more than local Latinos since their second location opened in Westerville. It’s a gathering place for families with origins around the globe drawn together by something sweet, a language everyone speaks with ease. Don’t be the candidate who orders plain old chocolate for fear of offending some key constituency. Go bold with Blackberry and Cheese or Goat Milk Caramel. And if it’s been a trying day on the campaign trail, add a scoop of Almond Tequila. We won’t judge

Momo Ghar | 1265 Morse Road

The original hotspot for Himalayan home cooking, nothing quite beats the seasonal chill like a big bowl of delicate dumplings, secretly served at your local international grocery. The Northeast side of the city’s growing immigrant community spans several continents, with recent arrivals from Asia, Africa, and the Middle East joining generations who preceded them. Petite pockets of chicken and pork are outstanding, swimming in a small sea of spicy sauce. But vegetable dumplings and gluten-free lentil cakes could inspire some crossover appeal

Stauf’s Coffee Roasters | 1334 Neil Avenue

Anchored in Grandview for 30 years, Stauf’s latest location in a recently renovated church just south of Ohio State’s campus is both a departure for the brand and a reminder of why they’ve stayed ahead of the corporate coffee curve. Millennials could be the largest voting bloc in 2020, so their support is essential and concerns impossible to ignore. Don’t risk a social media fiasco by botching the order of a convoluted caffeinated concoction. No need to be a hero here. Just get a large regular in a mug—black. Done.

The third Democratic Party Primary Debate, hosted by CNN and the New York Times, will air live at 8PM from Otterbein University in Westerville, Ohio

October 1, 2019

North Market Grows up

Originally published in the October 2019 issue of (614) Magazine

On a long enough timeline, everything this side of the Atlantic seems shiny and new by relative comparison. Public markets elsewhere in the world mostly measure their history in centuries instead of decades. And even their more recent descendants, like London’s Camden Market, feature more than 1,000 vendors and top 100,000 visitors on an average weekend.

But is authenticity lost in all that bustle? Can you really claim to be local if you practically require your own zip code?

That’s the inherent challenge in preserving and expanding any public market, keeping things literally and figuratively fresh without losing the culture and community that customers have come to expect. And that’s why planning for the new North Market Tower has generated both anticipation and apprehension in a neighborhood that’s seen a lot of change lately, not all of it welcome.

“I grew up in Columbus until I was 18, so I remember the Quonset hut. When I moved back, we were in this building. I started coming here a lot just like when I was a kid,” recalled Rick Harrison Wolfe, Executive Director of the North Market since 2013. Despite zero nonprofit experience, it was his vision of the future that earned him the position from among more than 400 applicants for the role. “Expansion wasn’t part of my presentation, but it was already on my mind. The more I considered the space and the experience, I knew there were opportunities that could only come with growth, and there was nowhere to go but up.”

Wolfe’s résumé is revealing and rolling, following a career in fashion that took him from Chicago to San Francisco and Los Angeles before heading back to Columbus. Upon returning to his hometown, and a brief reinvention in the local food truck scene, his retail insights and close to the bricks work ethic comfortably converged in the food-centric destination constantly adapting to new trends and tastes.

“When you look back to the original market of the late 1800s, it’s where people came for provisions, for everything. The North Market at the turn of the century had a quiltmaker and a blacksmith. It reflected the role of public markets of the era,” he explained. “I think we need to think about the other types of retail we can bring in. I love that we focus on food, and complements for food. It says on our door that we’re, ‘local, fresh, authentic.’ There are a lot of businesses in Columbus that are local, fresh, and authentic that aren’t just food.”

Beyond the expansion of vendor space, the mix of offices, residences, and a hotel—with parking to support all of them—is enough public space to present and restore enumerable opportunities. A vital public market requires ongoing change, but that constant churn can be unnerving for patrons and prospective tenants. When square footage is always scarce, something has to go to make room for something new. Space that became home to a highly-popular purveyor of poultry used to serve as a quirky catering and event location. I actually have friends who were married there, and now when folks see their wedding photos, everyone asks why they decided to exchange vows at Hot Chicken Takeover. Wolfe knew capacity and critical mass would always be at odds without a radical solution that created both.

“Density and flexibility, having people who live and work in North Market Tower, is crucial for our merchants and our future. You have to evolve to remain relevant,” he noted, explaining that earlier designs have changed, but still reflect the original priorities. “Projects like these always evolve, and should, just like the market itself. A rendering is just a rendering until it’s a reality.”

Wolfe’s earlier career has also had a more subtle hand in the growth of the North Market, particularly the travel it afforded and his experiences with public markets in the US and abroad. California-inspired elements from Oxbow Public Market in Napa and Grand Central Market in Los Angeles, which has seen a similar resurgence in recent years, have been given a Midwest makeover that suits Central Ohio.

“I used to travel to Barcelona twice a year, which has one of the strongest public market systems in the world. With 35 markets, anywhere in Barcelona is only a 15-minute walk from the nearest public market,” he explained. “I’ve been to Borough Market in London, which is more than 1000-years-old, and it’s still where you get the best taste of the city.”

In fact, the North Market is for many visitors their first taste of our city as well, conveniently located across the street from the Greater Columbus Convention Center. Recent attendees from the American Society of Association Executives selected Columbus for their annual conference for several reasons. But the Short North, and the North Market in particular, make quite a first impression on guests from across the country. It’s why Joe DeLoss, founder of Hot Chicken Takeover, calls the North Market, “the front door to Columbus.”
Those fond memories may mean millions. Experience Columbus predicts if even a fraction of those organizations represented by ASAE bring their own conferences to Central Ohio, it could create half a billion dollars in local economic impact over the next decade.

“Deals like this between the city and developers are always a negotiation. But Columbus included us in those conversations. We were always in the room, and that doesn’t happen everywhere,” he explained. “You’re going to laugh when I say I got more than I wanted in this project, but it’s true.”

Though talk of the North Market Tower seemed to go silent for nearly a year after it was formally announced, much of that was to accommodate the mandate that the market remain open for the duration of construction. Ongoing development throughout the Short North—from streetscape, sidewalks, and parking improvements—have had their share of fierce critics and retail casualties. The current plan includes 28 stories and a budget approaching $200 million. Even amid a project this complex, Wolfe remains committed to an orderly transition instead of avoidable disruption.

“The cost and construction of the building we’re in right now wasn’t a safe bet at the time either. It was a long shot. There isn’t a public market project like this anywhere in the world, and there hasn’t been an expansion of a public in the US this big in the past 50 years,” Wolfe noted. “But when you look at projects like the riverfront now, people ask why we didn’t do this years ago. I hope when this project is complete and people see and experience the evolution, they say the same about the North Market.” ▩

For details on the North Market’s ongoing expansion, visit northmarket.com

October 1, 2019

Gluten-Free Goodness

Originally published in the October 2019 issue of (614) Magazine

Stacie Skinner doesn’t look like a superhero, but to parents whose kids have food allergies, she’s only missing a mask and a cape. With a secret identity as astute as Bruce Banner and mild-mannered as Peter Parker, her background in retail planning and food industry R&D revealed a hidden superpower.

No one was making really good gluten-free waffles. (Well, she was, but no one knew it yet.)

“I wanted to have my own business, and I knew it would be gluten-free, to accommodate some of the allergies that affected my family,” Skinner explained, whose own childhood memories of cooking with her mother in Lopaus Point, Maine inspired more than just the name of her company. “I thought local farmers markets would be a great place to try out my recipes. But when I started, it was mostly cookies and breads.”

Families with food allergies have to travel a little differently than those who don’t. You can’t just eat anywhere along the way. This writer also happens to have two kids who have issues with both wheat and milk. Before the proliferation of gluten-free and dairy-free options at the average grocery or restaurant, we had to bring all of our food with us. We didn’t simply pack for the weekend. We had to pack like we were going to the Moon.

Skinner’s breakfast staple epiphany similarly came during a family vacation, staying in a hotel room with a kitchen, as many food allergy families often do. Even if you plan to prepare most meals yourself, you can’t pack everything—particularly a waffle iron.

“I bought a box of frozen gluten-free waffles for my son to have while we were there. But when he made them, he held them up to the light and they were so thin, he could see through them,” she recalled. “Then when he ate one, he said they were “disgusting” and asked, ‘Why don’t you sell your waffles?’”

Every superhero has an origin, and it doesn’t have to be as dramatic as gamma rays or a radioactive spider. Skinner followed her son’s suggestion and decided to try selling her waffles at the farmers market, which for aspiring food entrepreneurs is often their first and most effective focus group.

“My other baked goods were selling well, but they weren’t as unique. There were plenty of gluten-free products on the market that were sweet, but not necessarily wholesome,” she noted. “So I decided to let everything else go to focus exclusively on the waffles.”

Ketchup wasn’t Henry Heinz’s first foray into condiments either. His humble start was actually selling horseradish. But something simple and sweet soon proved more popular and profitable.

“I knew the waffles would be a meal component, and hopefully a snack. I felt like they needed to be made with better ingredients that were nutrient dense,” Skinner revealed. “A lot of gluten-free products are simple starches, sugar, and something to bind them together. I wanted these to be more.”

Soon Banana Flax led to additional flavors, like Wild Blueberry, Chocolate Chip, and yes, Pumpkin Spice. A vegan version is among the most frequent requests, and already in the works. Free from most major allergens, raving fans and demand quickly grew beyond just gluten-free customers and local groceries.

“Retailers are used to products that have a crazy shelf life—like two years for some frozen foods. I don’t understand why anyone would have six delicious waffles in their freezer for two years,” she chided. “It’s why partnerships became essential, and I was lucky to have a supportive, local community of fellow makers to guide me.”

That’s when the collaborative culture that binds Columbus became baked into Lopaus Point. Instead of the cutthroat culture common between competitors in most cities, Skinner actually found mentorship among established gluten-free businesses, offering advice and insights on how to grow smarter, not faster. Bake Me Happy, which has their own gluten-free bakery, even sells her waffles. How’s that for an endorsement?

“Just because you’re avoiding an allergen, it doesn’t mean there’s a compromise in your tastes,” she explained. “We think this is the product people deserve, and small makers help create these new markets and can often right the wrongs of big companies whose early attempts fall short.”

Starting a specialty food company in Columbus also happened to be its own happy accident. Skinner’s earlier career brought her from Boston. But after meeting her future husband here and time spent away from Central Ohio, it wasn’t our test market credibility that convinced them to return. It just felt like home.

“Our kids were getting old enough and almost ready to start school, so we moved back to Columbus. It was the only place we both had in common, even though we had no family ties here,” she recalled. “We loved it so much and knew it was where we wanted to raise a family.”

Still very much a local brand, Lopaus Point recently launched a mail-order option for folks beyond the Midwest and East Coast reach of their grocery distribution. Skinner discovered many of her customers not only order for themselves, but as gifts—for someone who may have just been diagnosed with an allergy to college students who still struggle with dining hall fare. There’s even a subscription program. Automatically getting a big box of waffles in the mail every month might be the best thing since Netflix.

Staffing also sets Lopaus Point apart. Their first kitchen was a shared space that worked with Franklin County to provide opportunities for adults with developmental disabilities that too often limit employment options. Now nearly a quarter of her staff have similar challenges, working in roles from preparation to packaging. It was the final ingredient Skinner realized she was missing.

“I knew my company had to be bigger than just a product, and our special needs staff are an integral part of our entire operation,” she explained. “We’re not just serving customers whose dietary needs are often overlooked. It’s also about providing opportunities for people in our community whose potential is overlooked as well. At Lopaus Point, we want everyone to feel included.” ▩

Lopaus Point waffles are available at retailers throughout Central Ohio. For locations and online orders nationwide, visit lopauspoint.com

October 1, 2019

The Rise of Ghost Kitchens

Originally published in the October 2019 issue of (614) Magazine

When Chris Baggott returns from a run to the ClusterTruck kitchen, he’s almost always late, and his fellow drivers don’t mind letting him know it. Tight delivery times aren’t just an expectation for the fledgling food service. It’s part of the brand, serving fresh fare to waiting patrons often in less time than the average restaurant.

So what’s ClusterTruck’s trick to providing such a wide range of high-quality cuisine at a record pace? There’s no restaurant, and their slowest delivery driver, Chris Baggott, is also the CEO.

“I don’t go out as much as I used to, just to keep my hands in it. But when I get back minutes later than our more experienced drivers, they laugh at me,” Baggott confessed. “If you’ve been doing this for a year, you’re good at it. You know which corner or which door, a little shortcut here and there. Faster delivery is what makes our business work.”

Quietly creeping into the local culinary scene between the flood of innovative eateries and a fleet of food trucks are so-called “ghost kitchens.” They’re restaurants without the restaurant, focusing exclusively on delivery without the hassle and overhead of running a retail establishment. Homegrown concepts like Food Fort Columbus and 1400 Food Lab help industry entrepreneurs prepare meals with all of the precision of their retail rivals. Kitchen United, which already operates locations in Pasadena and Chicago, is scheduled to open their latest facility in Grandview Yard this year as the next phase of an ambitious nationwide expansion. For those struggling to find and afford suitable space, it’s the culinary equivalent of co-working and part of an already $100 million food delivery industry.

But ClusterTruck remains the original, unapologetic disruptor. Operating out of an inconspicuous warehouse near downtown Columbus, it relies on its own dedicated delivery team instead of contract food couriers to serve their hungry customers.

“There’s a broken model in third-party food delivery, from delays that affect quality to low courier morale. If you look at Yelp, a lot of the negative reviews are really criticisms of the delivery process,” he explained. “When I first looked at this market, the restaurants weren’t happy, the customers weren’t happy, and the drivers weren’t happy. So we deconstructed it and built a system that serves all of its constituents.”

That approach may sound a little wonky for a phantom food truck operator. But Baggott didn’t work his way into the restaurant business busing tables. His former life as a software creator proved both profitable and liberating, with earlier endeavors snapped up by Salesforce and Oracle for handsome sums. Along the way, he got back to basics, exploring his growing passion for sustainable agriculture, going as far as starting his own grocery store, then founding three farm-to-table restaurants from scratch. Baggott is as much a chameleon as an iconoclast, as comfortable in a conference room as a chicken coop. Even with dirt under his fingernails, the gears of an engineer are always turning.

“Let’s say the customer is five minutes away from the kitchen, and I have 30 minutes to get the order there. Our software manages our drivers, so we may not start making your food immediately,” Baggott noted. “Our driver may be able to make another delivery before your order is ready. We’ll start making your order when the driver is five minutes away. That way, you get your order on time, and fresh from the kitchen.”

Comfort food is evolving by definition. From hearty carbs to sophisticated salads, “comfort” is now more a measure of how food makes you feel, not an arbitrary attribute that’s the same for everyone. Meeting that ever-expanding expectation is also an edge for such hyper-efficient eateries.

“Ghost kitchens can iterate and innovate. We recently launched a gyro in Indianapolis. We also launched a protein bowl with hummus we make in house,” Baggott recalled. “That’s when we realized we already have pita, tahini, and chickpeas—we should make a falafel. Now, we’re testing recipes to launch a falafel.”

Not all revelations are as obvious or unemotional. Some menu items have also gone away when they didn’t make the cut, including their take on Johnny Marzetti. The Columbus customer base continues to grow, as are operations in Denver, Kansas City, and the original location in Indianapolis. But ClusterTruck locations in Cleveland and Minneapolis were temporarily suspended.

“Dropping Johnny Marzetti was heartbreaking for me because we already had all of the ingredients. I loved it, but it just didn’t sell. But a big advantage we have over a brick-and-mortar restaurant is access to data. A traditional restaurant may launch a new menu item and sell 500 the first day,” he explained. “But they can’t see who orders it again, or worse, who ordered it and never came back. All of those transactions are anonymous. We see everything, order rates and reorder rates. We don’t just know what sells, we know how it impacts overall customer experience.”

ClusterTruck launched a tofu kimchi burrito that initially sold very well, but then seemed to taper off. They dropped it, but once they dug into the data, they discovered existing customers returned, but customers whose first order was the ill-fated burrito didn’t. Their online menu has since become more adaptive, featuring items with higher rates of reorder for new customers, something typical restaurants just can’t do, and an insight they probably would have missed.

“One of the challenges with Cleveland and Minneapolis was building the brand. We were great at building kitchens and software, but frankly, we weren’t great at marketing because what we do is so different,” he noted. “We haven’t abandoned those cities, we’re just refining our marketing before we reopen. It’s one of the advantages third-party food delivery services like Grubhub and DoorDash have. They’re just adding a new service to an existing restaurant. We have to introduce a whole new brand.”

The funny thing about brands is that they aren’t how you view your company, it’s how others view you. And that’s also an inherent challenge for restaurants minus retail, even as the market for prepared foods booms. Catering is key for most ghost kitchens, and ClusterTruck tapped into it early, making group orders easier for folks with restrictive and selective diets, even offering access through the popular office collaboration platform Slack. Now about a third of sales come from group orders. But every new business needs a little luck and a leap of faith. Fast, free delivery still came down to customers meeting couriers at the curb, a hunch that paid off.

“That’s our entire business model, and the one thing we couldn’t know for certain before we launched if customers would be willing to do. It’s why our drivers get four to six, even eight deliveries an hour, instead of just one or two,” Baggott explained. “We’ve had more than a million deliveries and I can count on one hand the number of complaints we’ve had about having to meet the driver. When it comes to quality, every efficiency matters. It’s why customers are as much a part of our success as our staff and our software. They come to us, online and outside, and that’s what makes ClusterTruck work.” ▩

For menus and ordering, visit clustertruck.com

September 1, 2019

Renovation Meets Preservation

Originally published in the September 2019 issue of (614) Magazine

Neighborhoods are defined by more than just houses and their history. But aging architecture often creates community as homeowners share struggles and success, collectively trying to preserve the past and embrace the future.

Few Columbus enclaves are as eclectic or iconic as the Short North. Flanking an ever-evolving commercial corridor and heart of the local arts scene for decades are two distinct neighbors that seek the perfect balance between renovation and innovation —Victorian Village and Italian Village. Celebrating this convergence is the Short North Tour of Homes & Gardens, an annual affair now marking its 45th year. Most tours of this type tend to favor early summer to beat the heat and ensure everything is in full bloom. But the neighborhood that’s never afraid to start a new trend showcases their homes in early fall instead, offering a slightly different lens on faithful restoration that combines classic and contemporary.

Décor is a reflection of personality, but design often requires additional instincts and insights. Architecture isn’t for amateurs. That’s when Steven Hurtt gets involved. The principle partner of Urban Order happens to have had a hand in half of the homes on this year’s tour.

“The first step in the process is to ask clients what they’re looking for—like a larger kitchen or a mud room—amenities that don’t exist in these older homes,” Hurtt explained. “We live differently now than when many of these homes were built.”

Much of American history and popular cultural is chronicled through hints found in home design. From ordinary to ornate, simple to sophisticated, the bones of any house offer clues to changing dynamics and demographics. Living spaces were formal or informal with little overlap. The average family size increased and decreased over time. Kitchens were for cooking, not eating. Hardly anyone had a closet, much less one you could walk in.

“Our clients want the charm of an older home, but they also want a larger bathroom or a master suite,” he noted. “How do you reconfigure existing space or add on to accommodate more modern living?”

Consistency is frequently the demarcation from one neighborhood to the next. Even empty lots that are occupied decades after adjacent homes were built tend adhere to the architectural elements of the era. But the Short North has always blurred the line of old and new, and the Tour of Homes & Gardens attempts to capture that range of styles found in the streets that surrounding it. The mix of homes on this year’s tour is no exception, a snapshot of the Short North itself.

“One of the homes on the tour, by adding just a little one-story piece, we were able to create a back porch, a powder room, and a rear entrance with a mud room,” Hurtt explained. “That gets all of those things out of space of the existing house so we could make a bigger kitchen.”

A living level laundry hardly seem like a luxury request, but running power and plumbing to an unused alcove isn’t always uneventful. Renovations may require removing layers of earlier modifications that lacked necessary foresight just to get down to a clean slate. Some early architectural elements seem like anachronisms, but may still serve a more modern purpose. Hurtt conceded eliminating a butler’s pantry is often the best option to expand an existing kitchen into a more spacious entertaining area. But he has also introduced them into new kitchens as prep or clean up space for those who prefer to reserve the kitchen proper for guests without the obvious mess.

Additional homes on the tour Urban Order helped to improve include a warehouse conversion to an open floor plan, two extensive interior reconfigurations within the existing footprint, and a new build for a couple who has lived in the neighborhood for years and loved it so much they couldn’t imagine moving to start construction anywhere else.

“Reconfiguring existing space only goes so far,” he admitted. “We do a lot of additions, and work with the Victorian Village Commission and the Italian Village Commission to maintain the integrity of the existing architecture. Any alterations need to be sensitive to that.”

Preservation isn’t just practical; it has to be integral. Not all neighborhoods have such restrictions, but those that do tend to hold their value. Even if it adds to the cost or complexity, these efforts to preserve what would otherwise be easily lost pay off when homes sell, or in hindsight as homeowners appreciate the extra effort once the project is complete. The dramatic contrast between Queen Anne and quaint cottage also highlights the extremes found within just a few blocks and perhaps offsets the less tempered pace of change along High Street, a retail upheaval many long-time residents fear is increasingly pushing local businesses out.

“We’ve been doing this for so long, we can anticipate the kind of response we’re likely to get from the architectural review. It might not make sense to move every wall,” Hurtt revealed. “We have clients who come to us with ideas that may prove problematic, but we can offer options they may not have considered to achieve the same goals while still respecting the charm of their homes and the character of the neighborhood.” ▩

The Short North Tour of Homes & Gardens is September 15. For details, visit shortnorthcivic.org/home-tour

September 1, 2019

Steak House Nostalgia

Originally published in the September 2019 issue of (614) Magazine

Columbus is famous for a lot of culinary firsts, but rarely one of the last.

York Steak House was once the prototype for red meat with a regal motif. While the rest of the restaurant industry was trying to sell commodity steak cafeteria style with strained western metaphors, York was quietly building a kingdom of castle-inspired eateries.

Founded in Columbus and topping out at 200 locations nationwide, when the mall craze collapsed and tastes changed, York’s fortunes fell. But the very last one has survived and thrived for more than half a century on West Broad Street by remaining largely unchanged thanks to the steady, perhaps stubborn, strategy still championed by owner Jay Bettin, who turned an abandoned outpost of a dying empire into a nostalgic dining destination.

“What made them really successful in the 70s and 80s was that they were in shopping malls. Folks used to go out on Friday night, do some shopping, see a movie, and eat at York,” recalled Bettin. “We were one of only ten locations that was freestanding, so when malls started to suffer, it didn’t hit us the same way. But you could still see it coming.”

Much like the latest season of Stranger Things, there was always something dark and sinister beneath the slick façade of the shopping mall. When Northland, Eastland, and Westland opened in the 60s, they soon sucked shoppers away from local businesses. Then when City Center opened downtown just as the mall phenomenon was fading, there was a retail reckoning for the once bustling suburban satellites.

“We were originally part of a buyout. A guy was buying 25 York locations and planned to turn them into Bonanza franchises. I was general manager here and asked him if he would sell me just this one and he could keep the rest,” Bettin explained. “But then Ponderosa bought Bonanza and his deal fell through. Suddenly, mine was the only one left.”

Jay Bettin isn’t trying to give Jeff Ruby a run for his money, even with an enviable head start. Nor is he chasing the latest trends. You won’t find free wifi or a convoluted allergen-friendly menu. There isn’t a rack of fixed-gear bicycles or hipsters taking pictures of their food as it grows cold either. Point of fact, the last time I was there for lunch, I was the only one among more than 40 patrons shamefully pecking on a smartphone.

“Even though we were a chain, we always ran it like a local business. We know our regulars by name, and they often know each other,” Bettin noted. “We went back to what made York great in the beginning — quality food and quick service in a clean restaurant. We kept it simple.”

Simple is a deceptive understatement. Bettin reconsidered every item on the menu and element of the experience, from ingredients to presentation. The location was among the first Yorks to add a salad bar, to fend off competitors who had already done the same. And by salad, he means “salad”, not some bloated buffet with heat lamps and entrees that have been out there for hours.

“We don’t claim to have the biggest salad bar in Columbus, but I guarantee everything on it is cut fresh here and isn’t pre-chopped and poured out of a bag,” he revealed. ”Most family-priced steakhouses were focusing more on the buffet than their dinner. It’s hard to do both well.”

York Steak House started as a family restaurant that became a family business. Bettin credits his wife with subtle updates to the interior that still preserve the original aesthetic. Their three kids grew up in the restaurant, and all worked there. Their daughter still puts in a few hours a week despite a career elsewhere. Then there’s Jon Bettin, who works side-by-side with his father, poised to continue the York legacy.

“People come here for the atmosphere, because it brings back childhood memories. When my son Jon was about five, we used to come in the morning and he’d ride his scooter around the dining room,” Bettin recalled. “He’s kind enough to let me feel like I still know everything and I’m in charge. But he’s also smart enough to know he can change things that need to be changed. We share that understanding.”

Sirloin tips are still the number one seller. Even without adding mushrooms or grilled onions, they beat any backyard steak and are surely superior to a few more famous filets at twice the price. And with chicken, seafood, and pasta also on the menu, you could eat at York several times a week, and many do. There aren’t many restaurants where you can walk in with a group of eight people and get seated immediately, much less order in minutes and be out the door again in an hour.

“I don’t have the overhead of a corporate office. It keeps our prices low. My clientele is a little older and I’m obviously not going after the bar crowd.” he chided. “Our meat isn’t marinated or over-seasoned and all of our steaks are cooked to order. For the money, you’re never going to find a better steak.”

Bettin’s early experience working in a bakery also shows in the dessert options. While the industry average suggests about five percent of patrons order dessert, York consistently finds closer to a third of its customers like to grab a slice at the beginning of the line, instead of ordering it at the end of the meal like most restaurants.

“Our peanut butter chocolate cream pie is one of our best,” Bettin admitted. “The fudge cake has been a standard from the start, but now we bake it in house. It’s even better than it was 40 years ago.”

Hollywood Casino gave the business a little boost when things were starting to slow down. Bettin credits name recognition and nostalgia, but he’s also amused that folks come from far and wide to drop a few hundred bucks down the block, but still stop by York. The license plates in his parking lot reveal cars from neighboring states, but also from Texas to Florida, Missouri to Massachusetts.

“Our parking lot is in the back, so folks are sometimes surprised we’re still open. People tell us they planned their vacation route to come here. It’s humbling that folks will go that far out of their way to eat at our restaurant,” Bettin confessed. “We’ve always been a destination. When people leave their homes, they know they’re going to York Steak House. But now, we don’t always know just how far they traveled to get here.”

York Steak House is located at 4220 W Broad, and is also the only location to ever have a website: york-steakhouse.com

August 1, 2019

Still the Shazzbots

Originally published in the August 2019 issue of (614) Magazine

Kids music tends to get a bad wrap for good reason. From the Wiggles to Barney, inane to annoying, somewhere along the way, “kids” and “music” became decoupled, as though children don’t deserve sincere songwriting, and education and entertainment also became mutually exclusive.

That’s why parents are over the Moon for the Shazzbots, the credible Columbus kids band that might just save the universe from one more infernal refrain of “Fruit Salad” or a hyperkinetic purple dinosaur professing his creepy affection. Founded by Ian Hummel more than a decade ago, live shows eventually evolved into an Emmy-winning television pilot, funded entirely by loyal fans. Their latest album, LIGHTSPEED!, is their long-awaited third release and an apt metaphor for their change in trajectory, marked by a growing international audience.

“When we first started, it was just songs. But I didn’t want it to just be me. I wanted it to be more, something along the lines of Sesame Street, with characters and a backstory behind the songs,” recalled Hummel, whose nautical alter ego Captain Captain travels the galaxy with an acoustic guitar and an archetypical band of misfits in a heavily-modified Winnebago. “We weren’t even sure what form the band would take. For a while, there was no drummer, only percussion. For a hot minute, there was even an accordion.”

Hummel recruited friend and bass player Mike “Navigator Scopes” Heslop to help craft the band’s elaborate backstory, with characters whose talents matched those of their real-life counterparts. Josh Tully, better know to kids as Professor Swiss Vanderburton, moved back to electric guitar when Steve Frye, aka Watts Watson, settled in behind the skins. That initial lineup has remained unchanged, but there have been three female members of the crew. Amber Allen as Debora Nebula, Molly Winters as Aurora Borealis, and Diane Hummel as Luna Stardust, who rounds out percussion and also happens to be married to a certain space captain.

“It’s important to have female role models, and you can see from the stage how little girls connect with Luna Stardust,” noted Hummel. “Her costume is still girly, but you can tell she’s a member of the crew. There’s a team dynamic you see in cartoons like Voltron and Thundercats I knew I wanted in the Shazzbots.”

Though the age of their audience has stayed the same, expectations for the entire music industry changed course. Social media was barely a blip when the band began, and streaming services were almost nonexistent. Now they’re essential. But this too is where the Shazzbots shine, a retro band ready for a new frontier.

“After filming the television show and getting it on Amazon, we kind of hit a wall deciding what was next,” he admitted. “So we spent nearly a year creating content for YouTube, something new every week. Kids still listen to songs in the car, but they also watch music videos on their iPads. You have to be available everywhere they are.”

Another giant leap into this new era for the band required rethinking the brand. Matthew Hubbard, one of the filmmakers behind the TV pilot, helped tap into the emerging “kindie” industry, clever slang for independent music catering to kids. Unlike commodity kids bands created to make a quick buck, so-called kindie artists are steeped in the sincere songwriting tradition that predates the digital age. They Might Be Giants and Dan Zanes are more contemporary ambassadors for children’s music with a message, but even Johnny Cash and Woody Guthrie released kids album every bit as sophisticated as their more famous fare.

“Embracing the kindie label, as well as working through a distributor and with a PR person who understand that audience, has really opened doors,” Hubbard explained. “We’re now available on Sirius XM Kids Place Live and Shazzbots albums are in more than 600 libraries nationwide. There are also all of the major streaming services, Spotify, Amazon, and Apple as well helping to reach a global audience.”

The irony of the Shazzbots now broadcasting songs via satellite hasn’t escaped the band. It’s probably impossible to be more on brand. But that doesn’t diminish the analog roots and inspiration behind LIGHTSPEED!, available on CD, digital, and as an actual vinyl record with an intricately illustrated gatefold cover featuring a cross-section of the ship created by artist Joel Jackson, whom many may recognize as the ominous pirate from the television pilot’s cliffhanger ending.

“These new streaming options and the release of the new album have given us more reach and more information than we’ve ever had before,” Hubbard noted. “We know how many people are watching the TV show, which is really starting to take off in the UK. We can see which songs are doing well in Australia, a market that is also growing due to songs getting play on the inflight kids entertainment service on Quantas airlines. We use these insights to decide which song should be next for a music video, or maybe shouldn’t, at least not right now.”

“Having all of this data can be overwhelming, and you can overthink it. It can reinforce your instincts as a musician, but you also have to be careful not to let it affect you too much as an artist,” Hummel explained. “These are great tools to have, but you can’t let them keep you from pushing boundaries by trying to find a formula for success. Sometimes those simple little songs will surprise you.”

Plenty of musicians have been there before, watching an outtake or alternate track that barely made an album resonate unexpectedly, despite prevailing opinion. It’s also why live shows remain the best market research for the Shazzbots, even now that some of their earliest fans are old enough to be in college. Requests from the audience, often songs that may not have the obvious hallmarks of a hit single, still spark something unexpected. It’s evidence that those obscure deep cuts have sticking power too, feedback a synthetic studio-only kids band just wouldn’t understand.

“I was playing at Big Fun last weekend, and a dad and his two daughters were there. The youngest daughter was wearing one of our t-shirts she’d gotten as a hand-me-down from her sister who is now a teenager,” Hummel revealed. “The older daughter still knew all of the songs. It’s something they shared. She grew out of the shirt, but not the Shazzbots.” ▩

For more on the Shazzbots, LIGHTSPEED!, and upcoming live shows, visit theshazzbots.com

August 1, 2019

Inside the Moai

Originally published in the August 2019 issue of (614) Magazine

The unexpected closing of the Grass Skirt Tiki Room later this month isn’t the first time local tiki fans have been broken-hearted.

When the Kahiki sadly shuttered its doors nearly two decades ago, it wasn’t just the end of an era in Columbus. It was the largest restaurant of its kind in the country, and nothing matching its quirky architectural grandeur has been seen since.

Faithful fans still seek coveted collectables, scouring thrift stores and flea markets for rare finds. But there’s also a secret sect of tiki enthusiasts hiding in plain sight, quietly curating vintage kitsch while anonymously funding worthy causes from coast to coast. They call themselves the Fraternal Order of Moai and even their members remain a mystery.

“When the Kahiki finally closed, many of us were in shock that it was actually gone. But for me, something kind of snapped,” confessed Matt “Kuku Ahu” Thatcher, one of the founders of the obscure order who prefers to go by his Moai moniker. “People wanted to hold onto a piece of the Kahiki by building their own basement tiki bars. But there were three of us who were less interested in finding the artifacts than the people who shared this same strange obsession.”

Nostalgia often comes at a premium price. One of those old Kahiki menus on eBay will set you back more than any entrée did back in the day, and a matchbook might cost you more than a carton of smokes. Even a ceramic tiki tumbler is more expensive than any drink it ever held. For committed collectors, these aren’t just treasures and trinkets. They’re art from a bygone age.

“We thought there might be a dozen of us, enough to get together for backyard luaus,” he chided. “I joked that maybe we should make it a real club with fezzes, like the Shriners. It sounded crazy, but the idea stuck.”

Before Facebook, there wasn’t a turnkey solution to easily locate a group of like-minded strangers. It was an internet scavenger hunt for people who didn’t know they were lost. So Ahu created an online forum and invited a few fellow fanatics, hoping to pull together enough folks to preserve the past before it faded away.

“We didn’t expect so many to immediately gravitate to the group. We set out to create something local, but we started getting interest from Dayton — then Wisconsin,” Ahu recalled. “There were already several online tiki forums. But we weren’t trying to become another group of experts, though we are a bunch of hardcore tiki aficionados. Our goal was always to build an order.”

The Fraternal Order of Moai is organized much like independent islands scattered across the vast Pacific, each with unique customs and rituals rooted in a common ancient culture. Individual groups each choose a cause or charity at the local level, but the Moai still operate as a self-described “pirate democracy” with elections and major decisions all coming down to a vote among the entire membership.

What seemed silly at the time has become something of a movement with ten chapters nationwide and at-large members worldwide. Some chapters were started by folks with Columbus ties. Others emerged independently, inspired by the capital city’s quiet tiki revival.

“Our group is secretive and selective, but our events are open to everyone,” Ahu explained. “People who come regularly, regardless of whether they’re members or not, become family we look forward to seeing just as much as we do each other.”

Their enigmatic membership is more than a secret handshake. “Tourist” is the tongue-in-cheek terminology for active attendees who are still outside the order. Those who think they’re worthy must earn the support of existing Moai and pass a series of challenges, which are also secret. Akin to the Shriners, the Moose Lodge, and similar animal orders, questions of character are answered through a process outlined on their website, coyly branded the “Port of the Initiate”.

The most obvious evidence of the Moai’s influence is also hiding in plain sight, surrounding unsuspecting guests at the Grass Skirt Tiki Room. When Columbus Food League decided downtown was overdue for a tiny tropical oasis, the Moai were early and eager to offer their insights and assistance. Members carved and cast much of the bar’s décor themselves, nearly every mask and lamp that makes the contemporary tiki bar feel older and more authentic than its seven-year history otherwise suggests. Ahu even admits he may have had a hand in developing the cocktail menu. (He’s a modest Moai.)

“Tiki bars that survive and succeed stick to certain archetypes and avoid mixing metaphors. Those that don’t tend to go under,” Ahu explained. “There are still a few classic supper clubs for the purists and Chinese restaurants that subsequently became tiki bars, so-called ‘fortune cookie tiki’. But the Southern California, flotsam and jetsam, tiki bars with layers of personality and lots of locals tend to stay around.”

The most iconic contribution to the Grass Skirt is undeniably the giant concrete monkey fountain named George, which used to grace the entrance of the Kahiki. With support from the Moai, and literally a last minute commitment of additional funds from the bar, George was saved from the same demise as fellow monuments from the fabled restaurant.

“We knew if we didn’t get him, he’d either end up in a private collection instead of the public eye, or rotting in a field,” he noted. Point of fact, the enormous Easter Island statues ended up essentially abandoned, while a short search on YouTube reveals the fate of the famous fireplace still sitting outdoors under a tarp. “After the auction, we went to pick him up at Kahiki frozen foods and realized they’d actually constructed the building around him. They offered to cut him into four pieces to remove him, but the auction said pickup was outside. You wouldn’t let someone cut a Corvette into four pieces if you were told you could pick it up in the parking lot?”

Somehow George ended up outside for pickup as promised. The Moai don’t know how he got there or if walls or windows were removed to do it. It seems even George has his secrets.

Aside from “Tiki Tuesdays”, the only time local members really surface publicly is once a year in August for the annual Hula Hop, a charity event that raises money for Cure CMD, an organization that funds efforts to treat congenital muscular dystrophy, and serves as an annual call to prospective members, some of whom aren’t even old enough to remember the authentic longhouse that used to be off East Broad Street.

“We didn’t think we could pull off an all-day tiki event in Columbus when we started, so it was a ‘Hot Rod Hula Hop’, with classic cars and we brought in all of the decorations to turn a regular bar into a tiki bar,” Ahu explained. “But now with the Grass Skirt, it’s become just the ‘Hula Hop’ with five live bands, vendors, and food trucks. Instead of selling tickets or charging a cover, folks come for free, buy drinks and make donations directly. People know where their money goes.”

The Fraternal Order of Moai, whose exact ranks remain unknown, has funded several studies and drug trials through Cure CMD. But recognition and notoriety were never the goal.

“It was a cockamamie idea that started out as performance art, but it turned into something more,” Ahu admitted. “Now we’re a registered nonprofit and pretty darned legit. Tiki bars are popping up across the country, even in Europe. But in Columbus, even after the Kahiki closed, they never really went away.” ▩

The 2019 Hula Hop is August 10 at the Grass Skirt Tiki Room, 105 N Grant Avenue.

For details on the event and the Fraternal Order of Moai, visit fraternalorderofmoai.org