Category: Cuisine (page 2 of 7)

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

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. ▩

April 1, 2020

Restaurant Survival Guide

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

Just getting by is the new normal for the once bustling Columbus culinary scene. Some are still struggling to make it from one day to the next, while others have shuttered their establishments entirely for now, maybe forever. With the future as uncertain as the spread of the coronavirus that prompted such dramatic measures, a few creative solutions and lessons have emerged to help our favorite haunts weather the weeks, perhaps months ahead.

Ray Ray’s Hog Pit | rayrayshogpit.com

Locally known and nationally renowned, James Anderson’s beloved barbecue might be the best prescription for troubled times. With an already abbreviated menu of best sellers and rotating specials, brick and mortar counterparts would be wise to consider running their operations more like a food truck. Light, tight, and low frills—just like any legit pit.

Though the Land-Grant location is temporarily closed, Clintonville and Westerville remain open with added procedures to ensure patrons maintain minimal direct interaction, like a chain and new signage to make handoffs less hands-on and transactions less face-to-face.

“The taproom generates 90 percent of our business at Land-Grant. It was a no-brainer to close from the very beginning,” Anderson noted. “They close on Thanksgiving and Christmas, so we’ve always gone with their hours. We moved everyone up to the other two, which are going strong and surviving just fine.”

Suggesting cards over cash, changing gloves between any back and forth exchanges, and ensuring longtime customers know what to expect through social media have become standard practices for most businesses. But Ray Ray’s is still trying to keep the experience original and authentic, even as everyday interactions grow farther apart.

“We’ve started doing call-ahead ordering with no minimum, encouraging people to prepay, so there is less hand-to-hand contact,” he noted. “There’s also a 6-foot chain at the front of the line. You have to kind of reach for your order to get to the window. We’re protecting customers and employees that way.”

Operating limited days and limited hours have always been part of his business strategy, as is a more limited menu with only those items that always sell well making the cut. Staffing is also a factor facing restaurants that remain operational, often with more workers than they need or too few to make do.

“Right now, I have a full staff, so I’m going to have a full menu. I’ve already seen some competitors paring their menus down, which I think is a smart idea,” Anderson revealed. “But we’re giving all of our staff the option to work or not. If they don’t feel comfortable in this crisis, there’s no boss telling anyone they have to come to work.”

Stauf’s Coffee Roasters | staufs.com

The pioneer of coffee culture in Columbus continues to pull espresso shots, steam milk, and bag beans—albeit with some apparent accommodations. To-go and curbside pickup are now standard, with an expanded menu of commodities to hopefully help patrons procure provisions and simple staples without a separate trip to the grocery store.

Blurring the line between supply chains may sound like an obvious approach to address supermarket scarcity. But Mark Swanson, president of Stauf’s Coffee Roasters, knew launching an untested retail strategy amid upheaval in everyone’s daily coffeehouse ritual required rethinking nearly everything.

“We didn’t waste any time and started adjusting procedures more than a month ago. One of the things I love about our team is that they’re creative and flexible,” explained Swanson. “If anyone had an idea to improve what we were doing, we discussed it and implemented it immediately. Then we let our customers know why we were making changes to help keep everyone healthy.”

Offering milk, eggs, and bread for easy pickup, as well as meal kits, soups, salads, and such isn’t an end run around the grocery. It’s a stopgap solution, especially for items that may be tough to find for a while, like diary-free milk alternatives, perishables, and personal hygiene products that may seem incidental until they’re essential.

“We still have sandwiches, pastries, and cookies. We’ll start doing growlers of iced coffee as it gets warmer,” he noted. “What we’re trying to do is become a place where you can grab a couple meals and maybe six essential things without bumping into people at the grocery. It’s all about reducing risk by reducing exposure.”

Less conspicuous changes required delaying an expansion at the Cup O’ Joe in Clintonville and building up the small-scale side of their commercial coffee roasting business by offering free shipping on beans by the pound mailed directly to customers. They’ve even added a clever contraption in stores to fill bags of beans with less direct contact.

“Everyone at Stauf’s has worked in the service industry. We’ve all been baristas, servers, and delivery drivers. We’ve been out there on the frontlines,” Swanson noted. “Our changes come from a place of empathy. We know exactly what would have scared us. It’s why information and transparency are so important for our staff and our customers.”

King Gyros | kinggyros.com

Ethnic eateries thrive by offering entrées even accomplished cooks can’t replicate at home. But unlike the strip mall spots many select, this Mediterranean mainstay happens to have a drive-thru window, one that has become a life raft for the business and customers eager to remain connected through the current crisis.

Like many first-generation immigrants, Yianni Chalkias grew up working in his family’s restaurant. But when he started looking for the right place to open his own three decades ago, what we now call a “fast casual” concept, the former Taco Bell left little room for tables.
“My dad had a full-service restaurant. But when I was looking for someplace, I knew I wanted to have a drive-thru,” Chalkias recalled. “We’ve always offered the same quality and service with our drive-thru and takeout as we do with dine-in. Everything is beautiful when you open up the box. It’s the experience customers expect.”

An extensive remodel added an expansive dining room and patio that now sit empty. But building a robust takeout business and an exhaustive menu around shared ingredients helped increase selection and control costs, both smart strategies during tough times.

“People crave what they can’t make at home. Like our kabobs, char-grilled salmon, and calamari — or specials like our lamb shanks and Greek meatballs. But vegetarians love our falafel and pita with hummus or roasted eggplant,” he noted. “Sometimes people don’t believe we make like 20 different desserts in house. But we do. They may only go out once a week, so ordering dessert makes it more of a special occasion.”

Stepping up their social media presence has proven pivotal as well. Facebook posts and Instagram remind longtime patrons about hours and specials. Short videos also share the familiar faces of staff customers are used to seeing behind the counter, whom many admit they miss most of all.

“I started on Instagram as a way to get out of the kitchen, but it’s become a business tool. I do a lot of polls, just to see what people think about how we’re doing,” Chalkias revealed. “These are vulnerable times. So you have to be sure you maintain your connection to your customers. They’re our family too, and you always take care of family.” ▩

Please call ahead or check social media for current menus and hours of operations, as website information may not reflect recent changes.

March 15, 2020

Family Ties

Originally published in the Spring 2020 issue of Stock & Barrel

In 1929, the iconic, art deco skyscraper we now know as LeVeque Tower was more than just a monument of modern engineering. It was a landmark visible up to 20 miles away in the early days of passenger aviation, and why Transcontinental Air Transport chose Columbus as its new Midwest crossroads. Promising travel from New York to Los Angeles in 48 hours through a network of trains and planes, aircraft emblazoned with the “TAT” logo flew low over “Flytown”, a working class community of immigrants who figuratively and literally lived in the shadow of the latest, lavish addition to the city skyline.

Italian, Greek, and Lebanese neighbors mingled among the Irish who preceded them, as well as African Americans fleeing the Deep South. Though the community is all but forgotten, ultimately leveled by urban planners in the name of progress, a different kind of monument remains — because this was also the year that Pete and Philomena Corrova opened TAT Ristorante Di Famiglia. Long since relocated to the corner of James and Livingston where Bexley and Whitehall meet, it’s still thriving nearly a century later.

“My father saw the planes overhead with TAT on the side, so that’s what he decided to name his restaurant. About ten years ago I started telling everybody it means ‘Take Any Table’,” said Jimmy Corrova, whose parents’ original restaurant has become part of local culinary folklore. “My father was the first to bring pizza to Columbus. In the old country, you’d take leftover dough, stretch it, squeeze a little tomato on it, add some basil, maybe anchovy, and that was it. Now, you can put anything on a pizza.”

Family restaurants rarely fail so much as fade away. Not so with the Corrovas. Jimmy, his wife Dolores, their children and grandchildren are all part of the TAT legacy. Jimmy still insists on seasoning the sauces himself, and Dolores arrives hours before the doors open every day. Daughters Marianne and Michelle run the front and back of the house, respectively. They know their regulars by name, and often their orders before they’re seated. It’s a passion and consistency that can’t be bought, only handed down from one generation to the next.

The Corrova influence spread throughout Central Ohio, from the former Antone’s in Worthington to Gatto’s in Clintonville, both started by extended family members. Even the Florentine in Franklinton was started by cousins. Jimmy revealed he nearly bought the business back in 2016 when it closed, lamenting the loss of the west side landmark.

“I’ll never knock another restaurant. Everyone has their own tastes, but we prefer to do things the way we always have,” Jimmy explained. “All of our ravioli and spaghetti are homemade. We still seal the edges with a fork and cut our own spaghetti. We roll every meatball by hand.”

The menu is exhaustive and inclusive, and far more than just the classics. From piccata to polenta, salmon to scallops, there are even two kinds of lasagna. The first is exactly what you would expect—expertly executed. But there’s also a “special lasagna” with a recipe modified due to rationing during WWII that proved so popular, they never stopped serving it. The only thing you’ll find that hasn’t been on the menu since before fenders had flares are several gluten-free options, evidence that TAT isn’t opposed to change, but hasn’t lost touch with why it’s still around either. Perhaps the only other item that may seem out of place is their famous “poor boy”. If you want the story behind the signature sandwich, no one tells it better than the Sicilian who invented it, and even has the trademark to prove it.

“When I was in high school, there were a bunch of us Italians and a couple of Irish boys who all sat at the same table for lunch. But we got tired of the sloppy joes and hot dogs they served,” Jimmy recalled. “So Eddie Carfagna brought real deli meat from his family’s grocery, I brought the Italian bread, and we all made sandwiches. We were all poor, so we called it a “poor boy”. After I graduated, we added them to the menu and sold them for 50 cents. We’d sell them by the dozens. We had them on special for our 90th Anniversary last year and sold 2,000 in a weekend.”

Not to be confused with its creole cousin the po’ boy, of which he was unaware at the time, Jimmy had the foresight to trademark the name “poor boy” and its constituent ingredients. They’re still a big seller, and were among the earliest foray into TAT’s brisk takeout business. But success breeds imitators, including a guy who soon started shipping frozen sandwiches made from cheaper cuts of meat to local grocery chains under the same name. Jimmy sent him a cease and desist, and ultimately sued him for $100k.

“Word got out about the lawsuit, and I was at Romeo Siri’s in Grandview when I was asked outside and told to drop the case because it had been fixed,” Jimmy laughed. “I sued him anyway and I won.” The judge awarded Jimmy $96,000, but it took him six years to collect — not counting his own payoffs to “fix” the case previously fixed against him. “I only ended up with $10k. But that’s more than I had, and it’s still my sandwich.”

Everything about TAT is authentic and on-brand. A step inside is a step back in time, from the service to the soundtrack. Loyal staff measure their tenure in decades, and songs from the ‘50s fill the family-style dining room that echoes a bygone era. Jimmy dresses the part of dapper don as though casual Friday was a conspiracy — and if he shakes your hand once, he’ll likely remember your face for the rest of his days.

The family quips they may need to open a drive-thru, noting a car’s recent close encounter with their men’s room wall. But they’re in no hurry to change anything, and that’s probably what customers appreciate most. Their salad dressings are so beloved, they don’t just sell them by the bottle, but ship them all over the country. One faithful patron was so concerned about missing her favorite meals while out of town for several weeks, TAT actually prepared her regular order in advance and froze enough so she could take them with her. When she passed away, they dedicated the booth where she sat and hung her picture next to it. Customers eventually become part of the Corrova family.

There may be no more fitting metaphor for TAT’s longevity than the giant, commercial mixer they still in use in the back of the kitchen. Jimmy bought it second hand for $50 from a local bakery decades ago, but it turned out to be so heavy he needed a tow truck to move it. Then the owner didn’t have the heart to charge him for it, so he ended up getting it free. They’re still using today, but Jimmy honestly didn’t know how old it really was until our interview. Upon closer inspection, we found a weathered brass plaque that read, “Century Machine Company, Cincinnati, Ohio, August 22, 1922”.

The irony did not escape Jimmy Corrova. “If you build it right, it will probably last forever.” ▩

TAT Ristorante Di Famiglia is located at 1210 S James Road. For more on their menu and history, visit tatitalianrestaurantcolumbus.com

March 1, 2020

Cherry on Top

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

When planning any getaway, the most crucial question that often goes unasked is what do you hope to escape, or discover? Cherry Valley Hotel may offer the answers to both.

With 200 well-appointed rooms, purposefully preserved accents, distinct dining options, an on-site day spa, and the industry’s only enclosed arboretum in the country, many may ask why they haven’t heard of Cherry Valley Hotel before. That’s because Newark’s newest hotel is nearly three decades old.

“This renovation was top to bottom, down to the studs and the cement. Everything came out except the stone and the wood that were signature parts of Cherry Valley,” explained Patrick Beaver, director of sales and marketing, and an Ohio State grad who recently returned to the area to oversee the transformation. “We considered staying open and doing it in phases, but there was just too much that needed attention.  ”

Originally intended as a retreat center and training facility, the former Cherry Valley Lodge was actually owned and operated by State Farm Insurance. (No kidding.) Subsequent acquisition and renovation added an onsite waterpark many may recall named CoCo Key to the amenities, an endeavor that eventually led to diminishing returns and a downward spiral in revenue that required a radical reinvention.  

Unlike most destination accomodations in its class, Cherry Valley Hotel has both local owners and national owners, a team of insight and investment that decided to close the struggling lodge and waterpark for the better part of a year. It was a $20 million decision that carried inherent risks. Hotels that close entirely for such extensive updates often fail to reopen at all.

“Once the lodge shifted from a group hotel to a leisure hotel, it hurt our event business and most of the money coming from the waterpark was going back into maintaining the waterpark — but not the lodge,” Beaver revealed. “We changed our name from ‘Lodge’ to ‘Hotel’ to set ourselves apart from Mohican or Deer Creek. It was an early concept decision. Kalahari and Great Wolf Lodge do waterparks well, but we wanted to distinguish ourselves from being either a lodge or a waterpark. We think we’ve found our niche.”  

That niche is hardly narrow. With 60,000 square-feet of event and conference space, Cherry Valley Hotel offers a more affordable alternative for trade shows, yet a scale that still accommodates wedding parties of any size, particularly those that exceed that capacity of typical venues. But perhaps the most underappreciated draw for guests is the serenity of the surroundings, a stark contrast from the bustle of Columbus. The original building was intentionally designed as an octagon, mimicking the geometry of the nearby earthworks built by the indigenous Hopewell people centuries ago. The botanical gardens and lake at the center still evoke fond memories among couples and families who return for reunions, or just a weekend away to unwind or reconnect.

But unlike many hotel dining options that tend to be overpriced and underwhelming, Cherry Valley Hotel offers a menu and atmosphere that rival the best the hospitality industry has to offer with a focus on elevated fare that isn’t intimidating, and options to accommodate any preference or palate.

“Everything on our menu is made from scratch, and we feature local ingredients whenever possible. We look at trends, but aren’t afraid to put our own twist on them,” noted Robert Olinger, executive chef and Newark native. “Our cauliflower steaks are seasoned and coated in Greek-style yogurt made in Ohio, then we slow roast them to just the right char before slicing them.”

The lodge turned hotel technically operates four distinct dining destinations. Craftsman Kitchen & Terrace offers a classic yet contemporary restaurant complemented by the Lobby Bar’s more casual setting for creative cocktails. O&E Taphouse features both craft drafts and bottled beers with its own menu, while the Granville Pantry offers coffee and light breakfast to go or on their patio. But the first three are where you’ll find the unexpected.

“I don’t want to be known for our burgers, but we use five cuts of Ohio beef ground in-house daily,” Olinger confessed, noting their burgers are often a frequent foray for first-time diners. Plant-forward patrons will likewise swoon over their burgers made from a blend of roasted peas, mushrooms, beets, and chilis. “Our fish and chips are almost as popular. We use Lake Erie walleye, beer-battered with lime zest, and serve it with baton fries we steam and chill before they’re sliced and fried. It’s the most light and delicate fry you’ll ever find.”

Utility and versatility are the measure of any credible kitchen, and Cherry Valley Hotel epitomizes both. The same fontina and white cheddar sauce you’ll find drizzled on the cottage fries with kimchi is also in the kids mac and cheese, the chorizo fondue, as well as the lobster cavatelli. The kitchen presses each pasta shell by hand, and there’s a rhythm to doing it right. Oligner insists the secret is rolling them to classical music—and if his offering is evidence, he may be right.

Whether it’s the wild boar sliders, cut with just enough pork butt to tame the gaminess, topped with crunchy daikon slaw with a hint of watermelon, or the perfectly pungent French onion soup, simmered low and slow for 48 hours with stout, sourdough, and Gruyère in humble harmony, there is nothing ordinary anywhere on the menu. Even their chicken wings are inspired, serving the whole wing three ways: Newark hot, country rub, or “buckeye” style with a dark barbecue and tahini sauce sprinkled with black sesame that somehow evokes the intersection of chocolate and peanut butter. Weird, but wonderful.

“Our most hands-on dish is our ancient grain pilaf, with toasted farro, quinoa, grilled artichokes, feta, olives, and a lemon curd. You spoon it into butter lettuce cups, like a taco,” Olinger explained matter-of-factly, despite the dish’s deceptive complexity. “The Black Forest chocolate cheesecake is served upside down, crust on top, with a cherry reduction and cherry ‘pearls’—like little cherry caviar.”

It‘s this keen attention to detail and daring variation that shows in every dish, and why Cherry Valley Hotel invites neighbors to dine and embibe with them at any of their eateries, even if you don’t spend the night. But with culinary attractions like “Truffle Week” or making your own s’mores by the fire in the arboretum from house-made marshmallows folded with goat cheese covered in ganache, you may come for lunch or dinner often enough to consider booking a weekend away, though still close to home.

“If you check in on Friday, you could have dinner at the taphouse to start off, then grab and go Saturday morning. You could have lunch in the Craftsman, dinner in the Lobby Bar in the evening, and then room service for breakfast on Sunday,” Beaver chidded. “You could stay the whole weekend and never eat at the same place twice. ▩

For more on Cherry Valley Hotel, including their menu and amenities, visit cherryvalleyhotel.com

January 1, 2020

Growing Up Ezzo

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

Don’t believe those who deny Columbus is a city defined by its pizza as much as any other industry. Dating back nearly a century from off-the-menu offerings appealing exclusively to Italian immigrants to the avant garde ingredients that reimagine the familiar format, our pizza has always been more craft than commodity, and often a family affair that also dates back decades.

Ezzo isn’t the first name that comes to mind when you think of Columbus pizza, but it probably should be. What started in upstate New York four generations ago in a family grocery store that stuffed its own sausage has grown into perhaps the most pervasive and prolific premium pepperoni purveyor in the world, run entirely from the company’s recently expanded facility on the city’s far westside. Former Ohio State wide receiver Bill Ezzo grew the brand after the family business relocated to Columbus from Indiana in 1978, a legacy his sons Darren and Jon now share and enthusiastically embrace. Both are integral to daily operations, but Darren has slowly become the unapologetic ambassador for an unlikely empire.

“As kids, we were always driving with our dad to pizzerias. Tom Angeletti’s father was always around. He and our dad were tight so we would go to Ange’s or Capuano’s. We actually knew the people who became the namesakes of Columbus pizza,” recalled Darren. “I grew up a block away from Rubino’s. As soon as I was old enough to hang out with my friends, we used to walk from Bexley High School, pool our money, and buy a couple of pizzas and play pinball. That was a big part of my childhood.”

The rest of the country has finally started to figure out that Columbus pizza isn’t simply distinguished by the crust and the cut, but the toppings as well. As indelible as the blend of cheese or sauce recipes is the pepperoni. Not that flat nonsense the national chains sling on triangular slices. So-called “cup and char” pepperoni that curls up in the oven as the casing cooks to a crispy edge contrasting the savory center. It’s a difference old school mom and pop shops and a rising tide of craft pizzerias favor over cheaper options from multinational, processed food conglomerates.

“The reason our customers are so loyal is because we don’t compromise on ingredients. Every commodity pepperoni manufacturer uses pink slime to reduce cost and boost their lean protein because they use trimmings instead of muscle meat. We use shoulders and cheeks, that’s it,” he noted. “Our competitors have started to cut their pepperoni thicker trying to get it to cup like ours. But that just means our pepperoni offers better coverage, even if it costs a little more per case.”

Though Ezzo sells several varieties of pepperoni, and a spectacular sliced sausage, it’s their cup and char that remains their most beloved product, and an elusive one for home chefs hoping to up their game. Ezzo only sells to places that serve pizza, not retail customers. But their signature slices are so sought after, there’s actually a somewhat secret network of online outlets that somehow procure pepperoni by the case, then sell it by the pound—an unofficial pizza underground.

Pizza as most of us know it is largely an American invention with distinct regional differences. During an excursion to Italy, Darren unwittingly arrived in the tiny town of Terracina on a religious feast day. Without a taxi to be found to his destination, he ended up sharing a less familiar pizza at the train station with some locals—a simple focaccia with just a splash of sauce and a little shaved parm—a stark departure from a cracker-thin crust and toppings so thick they fall off the edge.

“There’s something in-between those two things that is the perfect pizza. I really think you should be able to see the sauce under the cheese, a balance of ingredients that doesn’t bury any one thing,” he opined. “It’s okay to experiment. If people didn’t, everyone’s pizza would be the same. It doesn’t matter where you are, or if you put pineapple or fresh cut flowers on it, so long as you make it your own.”

Darren isn’t a reluctant or reclusive ambassador, logging more time in the air than an astronaut and more miles in the past few years pitching prospects and converting clientele than a round trip to the Moon. Though he still prefers to drive to cities like Philadelphia, Chicago, Detroit, Nashville, and New York, lesser known pizza joints from Portland to Pakistan, Denver to Dubai, aren’t exactly accessible by car. Wherever he can’t reach easily by planes, trains, and automobiles, he relies heavily on the internet to help advance the brand.

“One of my ex-girlfriends works at Google. When I was wondering if I should start an Instagram, she said, ‘Why wouldn’t you? You’re out eating pizza anyway, you might as well document it.’ I didn’t think anyone would be interested in following a meat grinder,” he chided. “It turns out pizza tourism is a real thing, and every time I post a photo of someplace that uses our pepperoni, I get more followers and they get more customers.”

As with any premium producer of authentic foods, quality control is crucial. A recent recall of some Ezzo products—not unlike an occasional Jeni’s Ice Cream recall — is indicative of just how diligent those standards are. Darren revealed the affected products never left the production facility, and the expanded recall was entirely precautionary. In fact, Ezzo customers, and their customers as well, are so fiercely loyal to Ezzo, the biggest concern for most was how quickly they would receive more stock, including Tom Angeletti of Ange’s Pizza.

“Tom was actually my first boss. I used to work at Ange’s on Yearling as a teenager. He once told me I was the slowest pizza maker in America. I decided I’d stick to making the dough after that,” Darren confessed. “Tom is practically family. I’ve known him my whole life. That’s also what sets Ezzo apart. We’re as passionate about pizza as our customers. But they’re also family, and our family keeps getting bigger.” ▩

For more on Ezzo Sausage Company, visit ezzo.com

December 15, 2019

Eclectic Entertaining

Originally published in the Winter 2019 issue of Stock & Barrel

Columbus is the city of the next century. But sometimes it’s difficult to see during your daily drive, even harder if you’re only home for the holidays. If that long-lost college cohort or twice-removed cousin hasn’t stopped by since the waning days of MySpace, the local to-do list is almost too long to fathom. So if you’re looking for someplace new or unique to impress your out-of-town guests, consider these enviable options.

Where to find unpretentious eats well after midnight

Hounddog’s Pizza · 2657 N High Street

The Old North is just far enough away from campus and just south enough of Clintonville to carve out its own neighborhood identity. Columbus-style pizza is still king, but the chewy garlic butter handle of Smokin’ Joes hand-tossed crust and sauce are essential. Try the veggie-heavy Backyard Dog, or keep it classic with spicy Italian sausage, fresh garlic, and extra cheese.

Dirty Frank’s Hot Dog Palace · 248 S 4th Street

This once sleepy stretch of street has become a downtown hub of hip haunts in the past decade. Choose from more than three dozen signature hot dogs, brats, polish sausages, or veggie dogs—or create your own. The Pittsburgh Princess is a notable nod to Primanti Brothers’ legendary sandwich, dressed with creamy slaw, hand-cut fries, and a splash of malt vinegar.

Where to take your siblings who think the suburbs aren’t sophisticated

Lupo on Arlington · 2124 Arlington Avenue

An obscure enclave of boutique retail shops may not seem like the obvious complement for Spanish small plates. But the dynamic tapas menu was the perfect fit for the former bank whose exposed vault door mechanisms remain a decorative accent. Though the featured fare changes frequently, the octopus a la plancha and lamb meatballs have become much-beloved staples.

Hen Quarter · 6628 Riverside Drive

Southern standards find a fresh take at the intersection of rustic and refined. Don’t let their bottomless brunch delay a visit. Succulent fried chicken served with brown butter waffles, bourbon maple syrup, and a side of collards are always on the menu—as are the impressive smoked short ribs, with ginger cilantro rice, Brussels sprouts, and green tomato kimchi.

Where to settle a bet with friends who like to keep score

Columbus Axe Throwing · 560 S High Street

Channel your inner lumberjack with a sport more dangerous than darts, but still slightly safer than jousting. Few seasonal frustrations and family feuds can’t be settled by a few rounds of hurling a lethal hunk of steel at a wooden target. Even amateurs will leave better prepared for the zombie apocalypse. Ash & Em’s smart “starters” and smashed burgers are equally sharp.

Pins Mechanical · 141 N 4th Street and 6558 Riverside Drive

Duckpin bowling, pinball, and ping pong dominate this novel destination for kinetic entertainment, now with an additional location in Dublin. Start with paddles, a little flipper action, or foosball as an appetizer. The diminutive dimensions of duckpin makes it the perfect scale for kids of all ages, with adults-only hours after 8PM. Rotating food trucks keep the menu fresh.

Where to imbibe elevated cocktails with a view to match

Juniper · 580 N 4th Street

The standard speakeasy is a hidden haunt. But this one literally ups the ante by hiding on the roof of Smith Brothers Hardware, offering Caribbean cuisine and just the right vantage of the city skyline. Try a plate of authentic Johnny cakes and the crispy-skin parrot fish coupled with one of their reimagined, prohibition-era cocktails like the Tropical Knees, Lion’s Tail, or Pith and Peel.

Lincoln Social · 711 N High Street

Del Mar SoCal Kitchen’s Midwest twist on coastal cuisine is perhaps only rivaled by its sister establishment’s exclusive rooftop patio. Among the more innovate alcoholic beverage offerings, Cameron Mitchell can also claim the city’s first CBD “mocktail”. Mellow Beets is a raw juice blend of beet, carrot, apple, and ginger balanced by a cannabis-infused, blood orange soda.

Where to go with those who seek and savor something secret

Sacred Palm · 457 N High Street

High Street has plenty of hotspots, but few are as elusive as the one in the basement of Mikey’s Late Night Slice in the Short North. Cleverly concealed by an old walk-in cooler beyond repair is a secret tiki bar. Tropical tropes set the tone for the tiny oasis illuminated in pink and purple. Umbrella drinks served in ceramic tumblers complete the immersive, island-inspired experience.

The Light of Seven Matchsticks · 5601 N High Street

The unmarked entrance for the underground establishment beneath Natalie’s Coal-Fired Pizza is entirely on-brand for the quaint and quirky bar about the size of a box car. Wes Anderson himself would be hard-pressed to improve on the iconoclastic niché whose namesake is the fictitious tome featured in his film, Moonrise Kingdom. Even the bar’s select menu is a secret. ▩

December 15, 2019

Ena’s Enviable Anniversary

Originally published in the Winter 2019 issue of Stock & Barrel

No one really opens a restaurant expecting to become a neighborhood landmark. But the right restaurant, one that brings people together and bridges the generational divide that dooms too many family businesses, are exceedingly rare.

Vinell “Ena” Hayles didn’t even set out to open a restaurant. But her Sunday suppers became such a local legend, the suggestion she should share her recipes and expertise with her Linden neighbors eventually became inevitable.

Born in Jamaica, Hayles opened her venerated eatery in December of 1999, a milestone enviable in a city that sees plenty of restaurants fade away as initial intrigue evaporates and diners drift elsewhere. Though her stretch of Cleveland Avenue had no shortage of shuttered storefronts, Hayles didn’t anticipate becoming an anchor in a neighborhood hungry for one.
“My house was already a restaurant. Everyone knew dinner time was 5 o’clock, and my kids had to be home for family dinner. So they brought their friends,” Hayles recalled. “They all knew they had to behave and show respect. Those are still the rules in my restaurant.”

In her flour-covered apron and signature fedora, Hayles doesn’t look the part of a matriarch. But as soon as she walks into the kitchen, everyone still kind of stands at attention, even her husband Lloyd. Her commanding presence alone all but demands it, despite her diminutive stature. Aside from the obvious commercial amenities, it’s not really that different from the home kitchen where the idea started two decades ago.

“I knew people wanted real Jamaican cuisine. If you come to my house, you’ll get ackee and saltfish for breakfast. Dinner will be curry goat and oxtail, maybe a little jerk chicken. So that was our main focus,” Hayles explained. “Lamb and the curry goat are the most popular. People order our oxtail and taste the difference because we use real honey, real garlic, real hot pepper, and real thyme in our seasoning.”

A variety of fish are also among the more original offerings with perch, red snapper, whiting, and tilapia all served with traditional rich brown stew or vinegary escoveitch—or as a sandwich, if you’d prefer. Comfort food sides from rice and beans to collard greens highlight flavors from the Caribbean to the Carolinas.

Authentic and uncompromising, the menu is actually deeper than it appears, with well-executed standards and less likely Sunday brunch specials that reflect the diverse neighborhood dynamic. Chicken and shrimp gumbo, crawfish and crab gravy and biscuits, and tiger shrimp and smoked Gouda grits blend Hayles’ own upbringing with the low country favorites of the Deep South and the African origins of her fellow immigrant community. Catering was an early extension of the business, with take-out tickets already rivaling dine-in guests. She also serves more cornbread on the average day than some restaurants serve customers.

“People used to ask if we were open on Sunday, and I’d say no. But my son Marlon said, ‘Well, you take Sunday off and I’ll do it.’ I’m not in the kitchen at all,” she chuckled. “I’ll come from church and pick up dinner, but Sunday is his day and his menu. It was his idea, but he still had to go through me. I had to taste everything first before we started Sunday brunch.”

It’s nearly impossible to achieve made-from-scratch results in even the most well-appointed restaurant kitchen. The missing ingredient is always time. That’s why you’ll find Ena’s preparing for lunch as early as 4AM during the week, and starting to prep for Sunday on Saturday night before returning nearly as early the following morning.

“My circle of influence is my circle of friends who are Caribbean, African, and Creole. The brunch menu reflects all of that. On Sundays, my whole family works in the kitchen: my kids, my sister, my nieces and nephews,” explained Marlon Hayles. “There’s a connection to the food and the culture, they’re proud in a way that only comes from having your name in the game. I don’t look at this as work. I’m just making dinner with my family.”

Marlon is one of five children who have all put in time at the restaurant over the years, and still do, between academic and occupational pursuits elsewhere. Evenings and weekends bring everyone together in the kitchen just like any family, except their kitchen is the restaurant.

“We keep getting asked to open another Ena’s, but how can you recreate something like this and have the same consistency and quality? That’s where the food trucks came from,” he explained. “We were trying to figure out the best way to get out there without losing that sense of ourselves. We have one here and one in Cincinnati. It’s still family and was easier than opening up another brick and mortar. Everyone can still get their Ena’s fix.”

Every restaurant has its secrets, and fortunately for the future, Ena’s are safe. Recipes still mostly made with a lifetime of experience and a dash of intuition were diligently written down, an heirloom more families should pursue lest their own legacy of recipes becomes lost forever. And fortunately for all of us, Hayles has no plans to retire any time soon. She now sees the same neighborhood kids who used to tag along for Sunday dinner fully grown, stopping by to share memories and recipes with kids of their own. But Ena is still no nonsense, and isn’t going anywhere.

“It’s just like it was at my house back then. If you don’t behave, you have to leave,” she laughed. “The neighborhood has changed, but everyone still knows us here. They respect what we do. This is where I started, and this is where we want to stay.” ▩

Ena’s Caribbean Kitchen is at 2444 Cleveland Avenue. Visit them online at enascaribbeankitchen.com

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