Category: Cuisine (page 5 of 6)

November 1, 2017

Deep Dish Dilemma

Originally published in the November 2017 issue of (614) Magazine

“It’s a lovely casserole, but it’s not a pizza,” quipped an equally opinionated eater as we disputed the defining design of a true Chicago pie.

The Gold Coast isn’t alone in its claim of a signature style. Foldable New York slices are well known, with regional variations from New Jersey to New Haven. California has its quirky toppings and St. Louis a unique blend of provolone, Swiss, and white cheddar. Detroit deep-dish gets its square shape and crunchy corners from blue steel parts pans pinched from auto assembly lines. Milwaukee might be the closest to our own familiar fare, with square slices and curled nickel pepperoni on a flaky thin crust.

Perhaps the reason many still dispute “Columbus Pizza” as its own distinct style is because we’re not pizza purists averse to new ideas or unexpected twists on a classic dish. Critics didn’t go crazy when Leone’s topped their pie with wild mushrooms, rosemary, and truffle oil. Nor did anyone cry foul when Clever Crow scattered corn on one either. We’re a working-class town with working-class tastes and no patience for petty pizza punditry. We don’t forego thumping our chests because we’re mediocre — we’re just magnanimous.

That’s probably why Giordano’s decided to open their first location outside greater Chicago near Polaris. The midpoint between Delaware and Downtown is effectively our backyard with the right mix of local and national retail brands to make their first foray in America’s test market a solid start toward inevitable expansion.

Pizzeria Uno made a nationwide push years ago with some success, but still lacked the street cred of Giordano’s. Uno seemed to abandon craft to become a commodity, a strategy that initially worked for Shakey’s, America’s first franchised pizza “parlor”. And yet, good luck finding a Shakey’s today, aside from the handful left in California or the Philippines.

To understand the curious appeal of Chicago’s claim to pizza fame, you have to understand what it is — and what it isn’t. “Deep Dish” and “Chicago Style” are not synonymous. They’re certainly farther removed than their hand-tossed and hand-stretched cousins. Commonly called “Sicilian”, deep dish is all about the crust, and not just the edge. Its thick, airy, and chewy throughout with a base of sauce covered in cheese and toppings. Chicago-style crust is high on the sides, but only thick enough in the middle to contain layers of filling with the order often reversed — cheese on the bottom, toppings, then sauce. That’s why a deep-dish pizza takes a little longer than a more traditional one, but a Chicago-style pizza takes closer to an hour.

Though the exposed brick and industrial accents are the unspoken standard for culinary concept restaurants, Giordano’s stays true to its roots with solid service and pizza that’s worth the wait. But, they haven’t cornered the market here in Central Ohio either. Loyal fans of Chicago’s legendary Lou Malnati’s, Pequod’s caramelized crust, and the ever-eccentric Burt’s Place would still be quick to throw down over who has the best pizza in their town.

Columbus similarly boasts a trio of worthy rivals to Giordano’s recent entry into the city’s established Chicago-style pizza scene.

Wholly Joe’s Chicago Eatery | 1182 E Powell Road

Don’t let the strip mall sign with only “hot dogs” underneath fool you. On the opposite end of Polaris Parkway hides a hat trick of Windy City staples. Yes, the hot dogs are authentic: Red Hot Chicago brand dogs with mustard, relish, chopped onions, sliced tomato, cucumber, kosher spear, and sport peppers on a poppy seed bun. (You can also grab a Polish sausage the same way, or like they’re served on Maxwell Street, with mustard and grilled onions.) The Italian beef is best ordered, “hot and wet”, with spicy giardinera and the whole roll dipped in the drippings.

Hidden in the kitchen is an old-school carousel pizza oven. It took two years just to find all of the parts to restore the 1951 oven to original operating condition. The rotating decks cook the center to perfection and bottom just right, without burning the outer crust. Pizza is only available evenings and weekends, but it may be as close as you get to an all-around taste of Chicago that doesn’t involve a short flight or a long drive.

Meister’s Bar | 1168 Chambers Road

Columbus bar fare is often far better than most restaurants. Even our dive bars defy expectations. Between King and Kinnear is the home of one of the best pizzas in the city. (Really, I’m pretty sure the place used to be a house.) Craft beer is on tap, but if you’re looking for two-buck PBRs or dollar cans, the daily beer specials are budget-friendly. Yes, it’s a sports bar of sorts, but it’s worth the sometimes-tight seating just for the pizza.

The golden crust is a little thicker in the middle than some Chicago-style pies, but the high sides and sauce sequence place it well within spec. If you’re a local, you can likely order when they open at 4pm and have it out of the oven in less time than it takes to get to Polaris at rush hour. The proximity to OSU also means they’re open late. Just don’t be the putz who shows up ten minutes before closing for a carry-over order that takes an easy 45 minutes before it hits the box.

Yellow Brick Pizza | 892 Oak Street

How do you get instant street cred for your Chicago-style pizza? You bring in a master to teach your staff how it’s done. When Lou Tristano decided to close his Grove City restaurant last year, Yellow Brick stepped in to ensure his pizza proficiency didn’t disappear as well. Though Olde Towne East is far from the suburb Tristano’s called home, the pizza is pretty damned close, right down to the braided edge on the crust that makes it easy to spot in your friends’ Instagram feeds.

Sure, there was a little hushed fuss about Yellow Brick serving the already famous pie, but pay that no mind. No one poached a pizza here, and Yellow Brick’s menu was already as unexpected and outside-the-box as a pizza place could get. (Hell, Hounddog’s is still serving Smokin’ Joe’s crust more than a decade later.) Lou’s legacy lives on in his pizza, and working with him to preserve it earns high marks for Yellow Brick and a city that collaborates as enthusiastically as it competes and eats. Columbus is a big pie, there’s plenty for everyone. ▩

September 15, 2017

Produce to the People

Originally published in the Fall 2017 issue of Stock & Barrel

Despite the city’s standing as a culinary capital, Columbus still sadly has its share of food deserts — neighborhoods where fresh fruit is foreign and the shelf-life for groceries at the corner store is frightening.

Suburban farmers markets may offer premium-priced produce to conscientious consumers, but urban farmers markets have a different mandate. For many living inside 270 on the west and south sides, they are the only source for vegetables that don’t come in a can.

That’s what inspired Juliette Lonsert and Ruth Thurgood Mundy to found the Westgate Farmers Market last year — not just to serve their own neighborhood, but also the greater Hilltop. The alternating schedule of first and third Saturdays caused initial concern with more than a few prospective vendors. But now some of those same skeptics are fierce defenders of the strategy. It’s a practical interval to keep things literally and figuratively fresh, more so than an every weekend commitment for vendors and volunteers.

There isn’t just one recipe for starting a farmers market, but there are some common ingredients — generous community support and social media savvy are among the most essential.

“Our fundraising so far has been mostly selling t-shirts and yard signs, which we will continue to do because it’s also great promotion for the market,” explained Lonsert. “But we hope to hire a market manager, to handle the operation and volunteers as we continue to grow.”

This summer marked the first step in that expansion with a farm-to-table evening on the lawn of the Westgate Masonic Lodge where the farmers market is held.

“The idea for the farm-to-table dinner was more than just a fundraiser. It was a dining experience you don’t have anywhere near Westgate, and a community experience you don’t really have anywhere else in Columbus,” Lonsert noted.

The seasonal menu was created by Westgate resident and chef, Christopher Vehr. Ingredients were supplied by local vendors, then prepared and served family-style by Vehr and a team of volunteers from the community. Sitting under a canopy of leaves and stars sharing a harvest supper with early autumn in the air and grass under your feet, the connection between the field and the fork couldn’t be more apparent or intimate.

“When you go to a lot of markets, they don’t really have a culinary presence. I think there are a lot of chefs who prefer to use local, seasonal produce. But unfortunately, most restaurant chefs work late on Friday nights, so it’s harder for them to become involved,” Vehr explained. “Events like this create a synergy that’s unavailable even when you go into a restaurant — connecting farmers to the people they serve by showing folks the potential for produce available to everyone at the market.”

Like any nonprofit, annual events fund the ongoing service mission of the organization, covering overhead while helping to reach a wider audience. But even with earthy endeavors, the internet is still integral.

“We couldn’t serve our community without social media. It’s how we best reach our SNAP and low-income customers,” noted Thurgood Mundy. “We also have a great relationship with Local Matters. They come out and do cooking demos based on what’s in-season and available at the market. Knowing how to prepare foods is a large part of the nutrition gap facing many families.”

“Education is most powerful when combined with an access point. Our work with the Westgate Farmers Market is a family engagement, to get everyone onboard with fresh, healthy food grown locally,” said Adam Fazio, Director of Development with Local Matters. “The family context for food is a benefit that’s often overlooked.”

Franklinton is even farther away from traditional groceries. Despite being a major traffic corridor, there isn’t a single grocery store on Broad Street between downtown and almost the outerbelt.

That’s why the Franklinton Farm Stand is so crucial, and why their schedule is different than most farmers markets. Operating Thursdays and Fridays, as well as Saturdays, better serves the needs of the neighborhood where any other source for fresh produce is a drive or bus-ride away.

“A majority of our customers are walk-ups, and it’s a more convenient time to get their groceries, especially their healthy food options,” explained Josh Aumann, the farm stand’s produce distribution coordinator. The farm stand is the retail face of Franklinton Gardens, which has twelve plots scattered across three acres of land (mostly from gifts and grants) that a mix of local volunteers and AmeriCorps service members have turned into a robust, urban farm network.

Outreach is key in underserved areas, which is why home delivery is also an option, with about half of the participants in their CSA, or Community Supported Agriculture program, using EBT and SNAP to help their produce budgets go further.

“The Franklinton Mobile Market is an online storefront. We send out a weekly email to about a hundred households with a list of our produce ready for purchase. They reply, and we deliver it to their doors the next day. Our biggest challenge is getting our name out there,” Aumann said. “The people who live here see us farming. We need to let them know we’re growing this for them, it’s not going somewhere else. We want the people here in Franklinton to have access to the produce being grown in their backyards.”

Starting a farmers market is only slightly harder than keeping one going. That’s the backstory behind the new South Side Farmers Market.

“When members of the Merion Village Farmers Market asked us to take it over, we wanted it to be more inclusive of our neighbors, as we were already the middle point for the south side,” explained Allison Willford, president of the Merion Village Civic Association. “That’s why we changed the name — because it’s everyone’s farmers market.”

The standard schedule had likewise proven restrictive in attracting and maintaining vendors for the former Merion Village market. So the new market was quick to adjust that as well, with an afternoon and evening market anchored by Tatoheads Public House, an already popular neighborhood destination.

“We changed the day from Saturday, because it was harder to compete with some of the more established markets. Thursday nights, people are getting ready for the weekend,” Willford said. “They can come to the market and have a beer, get a bite to eat, and buy fresh produce to take home.”

The geographic reach of the South Side Farmers Market also opened the organization to a larger pool of volunteers. That’s how Ryan Hansen, now one of the organizers, originally became involved.

“A handful of us came together after responding to a food security survey,” he recalled, noting the diverse and collective nature of the new market. “Some of us had leadership experience, some of us just had time on our hands. But that’s what makes it work, not having one person doing everything. This is as grassroots as it gets.” ▩

Writer’s Postscript: If the soulful plant contemplation above seems familiar, that’s Blase Pinkert. We didn’t know each other at the time, but more than a year later, he reappeared in the 28-inch pizza challenge story Pies Wide Shut.

July 31, 2017

Ray Ray’s Double Down

Originally published in the August 2017 issue of (614) Magazine

A mentor of mine once said that the worst place to open a coffee shop was in the same spot where another had gone out of business. Sure, you could probably quantify the failure of foot traffic or demographics. But ultimately, the place is still cursed.

With Ray Ray’s there is no scorched earth — only burnt ends.

After all the market analysis that could go into finding the right balance of random and regular clientele, there are really only two kinds of barbecue — you want it, or you don’t.

“I can’t fail here. It didn’t even cross my mind,” explained a defiant James Anderson, owner of Ray Ray’s Hog Pit whose reclusive and recursive alter-ego opened a surprise second location in Westerville in the same space that used to be The Barbeque Shack. “Now if it was a new market like Cleveland or Cincinnati, I’d be nervous. But I know Columbus, and people know me.”

Despite personally knowing Anderson and his demanding attention to detail for nearly two decades, the stakes are higher than they may seem. So much so, I found myself struggling to sleep the night before — still staring at the ceiling well past midnight amid the anxious anticipation of impossible expectations. (Jiro dreams of sushi. I dream of barbecue.)

With his wiry white beard and unmistakable attire, he’s practically become the Santa Claus of smoked meat, working throughout the night to bring barbecue to good boys and girls at a massive scale with magical precision. Like all legendary reputations, it was hard to earn and remains challenging to maintain.

“We turned down all growth opportunities for the past five years to focus on the brand. We wanted to do it slowly, to make sure our processes were in place, that our purveyors were doing their jobs well,” Anderson said with assurance. “But when this spot became available, the whole package was too good to turn down.”

The new spot isn’t entirely obvious for an undercover barbecue pit. Situated in the middle of a shopping plaza on the northeast corner of Maxtown Road and Route 3, it seems like an unlikely spot compared to the perfect food truck parking lot they’ve called home beside Ace of Cups.

But look closer. It’s more than just a failed drive-thru espresso bar and a patch of grass at the far end of the Home Depot parking lot. That’s essentially the local hardware store — and there’s a bank, a grocery, a pharmacy, even a factory right across the road. What looks like suburbia almost perfectly mimics the mix of businesses found in any old small-town square — and Ray Ray’s is right in the middle of it.

There’s really no bad place to sell barbecue — save maybe outside a petting zoo. Though there are certainly better places, and Anderson decided this one had all the right ingredients.

“Barbecue should be served outdoors,” he noted. “I’m lost in this little corporate world, and they’re starving for independents up here.”Anderson is anything but corporate, but his gut instincts are tempered by informed intuition. The original location has been the unlikely launch pad for various culinary collaborations that seem to be everywhere you turn. From a signature pie at Mikey’s Late Night Slice and the spin-off success of the Hungarian Butcher, to a Franklinton barbecue throwdown, and a one-off event last month at Land-Grant, the best innovators are collaborators and Anderson’s orbit has already reached well beyond Clintonville.

“There are some culinary things I’d like to do that I can’t do with Ray Ray’s. But there will be a time to get those things out,” he hinted coyly, and cautiously. “I don’t want to bring that here. We’re still keeping this street level.”

Anderson knows his brand, and anyone who thinks barbecue is just swine, Cheerwine, and a bunch of picnic tables oversimplifies the cultural complexity that comes with any expansion of a beloved business.

“We have a lot of room for growth, that’s why we put in two smokers. We can do catering here, and now we have that capacity. But we don’t want to spread ourselves too thin by doing things we don’t do,” he noted with a nod to the empty stage that used to host bands under the former owner. “We’re not a live music venue, we’re not a bar. If you do all of those other things, your quality suffers. Simple works. I think our customers respect that.”

Westerville patrons may recognize some familiar faces. To ensure the new Ray Ray’s matched more than just the menu, Anderson split his existing team in half, then hired at both locations.

“Barbecue is an art that you’re constantly teaching someone else. So whatever they do also represents me,” he explained.

Though training new staff at both locations sounds inherently risky, it’s certainly not the craziest idea, and he’s heard his share over the years.

“Franchising… I’ve been getting that offer once a week for years. We have a grocery store that’s been hounding us to put pre-made, wrapped Ray Ray’s sandwiches in their stores. That’s f*cking crazy,” he said, shaking his head at the prospect of taking something hot and fresh and making it old and cold. “I would lose all of my credibility.”

Columbus is a city built on reputations, which is why Anderson isn’t concerned about eating into his own customer base by opening a second location. Folks already come from Michigan and Kentucky to stand in line. That isn’t likely to change. Connoisseurs, farther still — like one renowned barbecue critic who recently traveled from Texas to see what all the fuss was about.

“The national critics will often give you a heads-up, but sometimes they want to sneak in and get the real deal,” he explained. “We recognized him and talked for a couple of hours. Then he flew back a week later and came to the farm to see my Mangalitsa-Red Wattle cross, and I did a hog roast just for him.”

Even with expectations that epic, there’s no accounting for the weather. Ray Ray’s had their share of rain opening week, but it didn’t seem to dampen business or deter his faithful following. The extra hours of operation also helped to smooth things out.

“Now that we’re in a building, we should follow different rules. We’re open six days here instead of four, and an hour earlier,” Anderson noted. “We almost doubled our projection for the first week. Even with the rain, we still killed it. But we have to keep that momentum. If our month two and month three sales are the same or better than our first month, then we’ll know it’s the right spot. ▩

For more on Ray Ray’s Hog Pit, current hours and specials, follow them on Facebook and Instagram, and visit rayrayshogpit.com

July 1, 2017

Grab & Go

Originally published in the July 2017 issue of (614) Magazine

Brunch has finally come of age. Formerly a middle meal for the well-heeled, breakfast’s boozy big brother has given late-risers of every economic strata an acceptable excuse to sleep a little longer while still maintaining their social standing.

It’s no wonder Columbus has embraced brunch as more than an afterthought. Weekend-only menus allow local chefs to experiment for forgiving crowds and discerning diners. And blurring the line between morning and midday makes it the perfect test kitchen for familiar favorites with a little added flare.

Weekdays remain another story. Mornings seem to get ever earlier, even without the seasonal procession and daylight savings time messing with our heads. Fortunately, there are still meals worthy of getting up a little early — something that will make you the envy of the office, or a missed lunch easier to stomach if your afternoon runs amok.

Here are five ways to grab work-week breakfast with both hands:

MAPLE CHICKEN BISCUIT

MoJoe Lounge | 149 S High Street

Forget that puny puck most places shove in a bag and hand you at the drive-thru. This sandwich needs a box, and a big one. It’s a buttery biscuit about the size of a grapefruit, sliced and crisped up on the flat top just enough to hold together when they put a runny egg and a huge, buttermilk fried chicken breast inside. The drizzle of maple syrup conspires with the skin of the chicken to create the convergence of New England sweetness and salty Southern comfort food. Putting a fried egg on anything makes it undeniably Columbus.

Don’t worry about getting a dried-out brick of a biscuit later in the morning either. Like all of their baked goods, they’re made in-house, as needed. I grabbed mine after 9 a.m. and the biscuit was fresh out of the oven. It also comes with a knife and fork, for those who may struggle to pick it up — or with strong opinions on which comes first, the chicken or the egg.

Save a slice of cinnamon gooey butter cake for later, though the biscuit alone may well hold you over until happy hour.

MAZATLAN SLOW-ROASTED PORK & EGG

Katalina’s | 1105 Pennsylvania Avenue

Though “gas station breakfast” sounds like a stand-up bit or a college radio band, that’s exactly what Katalina’s used to be — a century old filling station. Better known for their breakfast tacos, the secretly seasoned, slow-roasted pork topped with Amish provolone and fried egg served on toasted “old world loaf” deserves top billing. Though it could stand on its own, the added avocado, red peppers, and aioli add lightness and depth to what could otherwise be a heavy-handed sandwich.

If wholesome-yet-hearty isn’t your speed, there are always the pancake balls. Famous is an understatement, considering they’ve literally sold more than a million of them. Whether filled with Nutella’s hint of hazelnut, sweet and creamy dulce de leche, or harvest-inspired pumpkin-apple butter, the side of bourbon maple syrup and house bacon make it easy to see why their popularity quickly reached seven digits.

Love and local goodness are the first ingredients for everything on the menu at this historic, Harrison West hot spot.

FRENCH TOAST SANDWICH

The Angry Baker | 247 King Avenue

This cousin of the Monte Cristo features classic French toast, but with the texture of brioche. The perfect package for ham and Swiss is dusted with confectioner’s sugar and diagonally cut for dipping into a side of syrup. There is also a vegan variation with egg and dairy free batter, Daiya mozzarella, and seitan — sometimes called “wheat meat” because it’s derived from gluten.

With the original location now complemented by expansion into Victorian Village, there’s an Angry Baker on your way into downtown from either the east or west side of the city. If you need an afternoon pick-me-up, be sure to get a blueberry lemon scone to go. It’s like biting into summer. If savory is your style, the cheddar chive scone is sure to satisfy.

Americans were slow to embrace the decidedly British version of the Scottish staple. But once they did, scones certainly started to give biscuits and muffins a run for their money.

BACON, EGG, AND CHEDDAR

What the Waffle | 1117 Oak Street

Sometimes, we affectionately call an unpretentious eatery a hole-in-the-wall. This is probably the one time that name truly applies.

What the Waffle is just that, a tiny glass window of the Columbus Food Hub on the corner of Oak and Ohio. Their limited menu underscores the genius of simplicity. Place your order, and minutes later someone will return with a made from scratch, made to order, Belgian waffle-turned-sandwich.

There are two whole strips of bacon — not just one broken into two or three pieces like most places. Their fried egg is more of a rough scramble, which is actually ideal. Finely shredded cheddar melts into the square cavities of the fresh from the iron waffle, and the whole thing is wrapped in butcher paper and ready for the road.

Their sweet potato muffins are also worth getting to go, not that you’ll be hungry any time soon.

BREAKFAST SANDWICH

Acre | 2700 N. High Street and 1717 Northwest Boulevard

Though the name is unassuming, so is just about everything about Acre, the farm-to-table concept that manages to tick off all of the boxes. There’s nothing ordinary about it, either. The cheddar frittata on focaccia (or ciabatta) with a smear of tomato-jalapeño or bacon jam would probably be just fine. But the pucker of pickled onions offset by fresh baby spinach and avocado sour cream bring each flavor into balance.

Any echoes of the original KFC that used to occupy the Clintonville space are nearly indistinguishable, as are those of the former carryout near Grandview, where Bono Pizza used to make pies in the parking lot. In their place are thoughtfully reimagined restaurants ready for primetime. From the matching plaid shirts, jeans, and bandanas of the staff to the cohesive consistency of the exterior aesthetic and interior appointments, Acre is a brand bound to break out of Columbus.

Try a sweet corn cookie, the apparent offspring of a sugar cookie’s unlikely tryst with some cornbread, then tell me this place isn’t about to take off. ▩

July 1, 2017

Hidden Menu

Originally published in the July 2017 issue of (614) Magazine

It seems counterintuitive in the competitive Columbus culinary scene for a restaurant to willfully remain below the radar. Even neighborhood joints advertise a little, if only through carryout coupons or flimsy flyers.

But some places survive and thrive on reputation alone. That’s why sometimes you go out for groceries and stumble into an undiscovered restaurant waiting within. Saraga International Market on Morse Road is host to Momo Ghar, whose handmade dumplings have turned the former Toys R’ Us into a hot spot for Himalayan home-cooking. The much beloved Westgate Import Market once disguised one of the best Thai take-outs in town. Both pulled in patrons from well beyond their backyards. They epitomize destination dining for adventurous eaters willing to take a chance on a place that isn’t worried about whether their scant ambiance will earn them four stars or a nod from Fodor’s.

Sadly, Westgate’s Pad Thai street cred has faded slightly since the import market’s counter closed for good, much to the lament of the locals. But you can still find your fix just a few blocks west on Sullivant at Luc’s Asian Market.

Don’t let the “Groceries & Gifts” sign out front fool you. Though mostly Vietnamese and Cambodian, the menu of more than a dozen dishes features the same influences and ingredients that line the aisles. With only a smattering of seats, it would be easy to grab a bánh mì to go. But made-to-order appetizers and entrees are worth the wait. Though commonly considered a Thai standard, spicy beef salad is a bit of a regional dish originating from Northeast Thailand, right where its borders with Vietnam and Cambodia converge. Savory strips of beef served with a pungent punch of red onion, cilantro, and ginger-lime dressing are the refreshing, grilled summer favorite you didn’t know you were missing. Early kitchen hours also mean bánh khot might make a great late breakfast — fluffy rice flour, turmeric, and coconut milk pancake puffs with a sweet sauce on the side are reason enough to be a little late for work.

Around the corner, across from the casino, is La Plaza Tapatia, a supermercado of sorts that anchors the Westside’s booming Latino community. Once the only Mexican buffet in town, the focus has shifted toward servers and tables, which are ample — except on the weekends when families gather and mariachis move throughout the town square inspired interior. If not for the music to lure you in, you might miss the modest entrance entirely on your way to the grocery.

Though there are plenty of dishes Americans have come to expect from an increasingly familiar menu, be sure to explore the less common ones as well. Nopalitos are an easy and interesting departure for the uninitiated. The formerly thorny cactus has a taste and texture a little like okra, with a hint of stuffed green pepper. Their molcajete may be unmatched anywhere in Columbus.

The matte black volcanic vessel is huge and piled high with a mixed grill of beef, chicken, pork, shrimp, and chorizo complemented by peppers, onions, and an endless supply of fresh-pressed corn tortillas. Even if you share it, expect to leave with leftovers.

A little farther north, tucked away on Trabue between Rome-Hilliard and 270 is a Midwest seafood market that mimics the memories of my youth. When you grow up near the Chesapeake Bay, blue crabs are as ordinary as macaroni and cheese. But when you move inland, you realize you rarely find that fresh-off-the-boat flavor anymore.

So when you go out for seafood at one of Central Ohio’s better restaurants, you can probably thank Frank.

That would be owner Frank Gonzalez of Frank’s Fish and Seafood Market, whose commercial enterprise also supplies restaurants in Dayton, Cincinnati, and Northern Kentucky with the best catch. After nearly three decades, the same wide smile and firm handshake that greets wholesale and retail patrons alike still beams with pride over his latest endeavor.

Now a few years in, the tiny take-out hiding inside is still unknown to many — and it’s truly their loss. Almost all of the square footage supplied by the former offices and conference room went into the kitchen, with only enough space remaining for a two-top, a four-top, four stools and a counter.

Ten seats, that’s it. A football team could fill the place and still leave the quarterback standing.

But that’s a metaphor for the entire operation. Frank’s unlikely expansion from commercial to retail, and then to a restaurant all seemed to lack enough space. But somehow he made it work — with patio seating that pushes the dining capacity closer to 70 during better weather, a curated wine room that should be the envy of any sommelier, and an unrivaled selection of hundreds of fresh, frozen, and smoked fish, seafood, and chef-quality meats — all under one roof.

Whether you crave a working-class fried oyster po’ boy and peel-and-eat shrimp by the bucket, or your tastes lean more toward a “pick-your-catch” sandwich (of perch, catfish, or cod) and salmon cakes with corn, tomato, and black bean chutney, there is something for every appetite and palette. Even the kid’s menu has grilled shrimp on it.

But don’t mistake Frank’s diminutive diner for just a summertime stop. Hearty clam chowder and glorious gumbo so thick with Andouille, shrimp, crab, and crawfish you can stand up a spoon in it, both served with creole seasoned flatbread, will warm your soul year round. And their “small plates” include an order of FIVE lamb chops with a sweet Thai chili glaze. Everything on the menu begs to be shared, whether you want to or not. So just order a few items and enjoy an intimate date night at the only table for two — or order a few more and dine family-style with a group of friends and fill every seat.

Either way, Frank’s will have you hooked. ▩

March 15, 2017

King of Gyros

Originally published in the Spring 2017 issue of Stock & Barrel

The oldest of four brothers, Yianni Chalkias wasn’t the first in his family to find his way into the restaurant business, but he was one of the youngest. Having immigrated to Cleveland from Greece just shy of his tenth birthday, he recalled the early challenges of a new land and a new language.

“In school, we only had 45 minutes of English. And the rest of the day, you had to already know English,” he chided. “That’s why I always did well in math — the other kids were jealous because I always scored higher than they did and I just got here. But I learned English in the restaurant.”

Chalkias eventually excelled, but his first classroom was the kitchen — peeling a few potatoes, washing a few dishes after school — but embracing a new language and culture through interaction with employees.

Not unlike nearly every American restaurant today, the kitchen is still home to immigrants. Behind every counter and cooktop is someone who took a leap of faith, leaving family and familiarity to find a new future. Ethnic communities offer support for recent arrivals and help to retain ethnic identity through customs and cuisine. But it can also be insulating and isolating, preventing new neighbors from interacting and sharing their common culture.

Yianni soon relocated to Columbus, where extended family were already established in the restaurant business. In 1987, his parents opened Vaso’s Greek Restaurant. But just four years later, Yanni saw the opportunity to introduce Greek food to a wider audience with what is now called a “fast casual” concept.

“Vaso’s was full service, so I wanted to do something different — gyros, fries, salads, and a few desserts. That was it,” Chalkias explained. He set his sights on a former Taco Bell off Hamilton Road, despite some of the challenges it posed. “They built it just like they did in California, so it had single-paned glass and no insulation.”

Since the extensive remodeling effort several years ago, it’s hard to find the old bones of that Taco Bell, but I remember them well. When I first moved to Columbus two decades ago, finding decent Greek food was high on my priority list.

My first real job in college was right across the street from a Greek joint that luckily kept the same late hours as the newspaper. And I used to ditch class in high school on occasion to grab carryout from a tiny Greek place out by the interstate. My father, while stationed a Quantico, became lifelong friends with the Greek owner of a local restaurant who also learned English in the kitchen and from his Marine patrons. The former fisherman and sponge diver even sent a cab full of wine and food to the maternity ward at the base hospital when I was born. I may not have Greek in my DNA, but it’s always been in my blood.

That’s probably why King Gyros seemed so familiar in those early days, and why it still does. Despite the aesthetic improvements and expanded menu, it’s still the same place that used to have a bathroom outside and around the back. And it’s why few family or friends who come to Columbus to visit leave without going there. It’s a tight-knit, family restaurant — and whether you work there or eat there, you’re part of it.

“We survived 20 years like that, with just four tables here and three tables over there. But we had a lot of carryout and a lot of drive-thru service,” Chalkias noted. “There was catering too, but we had to do something. We had to expand.”

Rather than uproot the restaurant, he explored ways to expand in the existing space. A new dining room and patio seating with interior restrooms solved the capacity problem. An Acropolis-inspired façade and Mediterranean murals eliminated the obvious vestiges of the building’s taco tenure.

“Of course, all of this was happening right as the economy was collapsing, so some people thought I was crazy,” he recalled. “But I decided we weren’t going to survive otherwise.”

The renovations were further complicated by the decision not to close to potentially complete the project sooner. “We didn’t close a single day. We’re already closed on Sundays and holidays, but we didn’t close once during the entire process,” Chalkias said.

The new dining room and outside elevation were completed while the old dining area and drive-thru remained open. Only when the additions were finished were they finally connected.

“We worked with the health department and showed them if we did it this way, we’d never have to close the kitchen,” he explained. “We worked all night putting down tile on one of those two-day holiday weekends, but we didn’t grout everything in until Tuesday night. We opened Monday without any grout.”

It wasn’t just customer consideration that kept King Gyros open without interruption, it was concern for his employees as well.

“Our employees have been here for years. They needed to work, and we didn’t want to lose them. They’re our family too,” he said. “When someone new starts here and seven of our employees have been here more than eight years, that says something to them.”

Expanded space created opportunity for an expanded menu of traditional dishes and family recipes. Tender souvlake (seasoned tips of filet mignon), fried calamari (breaded squid), dolmades (stuffed grape leaves), and spanakopita (spinach pie) — as well as some interpretations of more Midwest fare, like cabbage rolls stuffed with a mix of ground lamb and beef with decidedly Greek seasoning and sauce.

But there were some items that didn’t long endure. Begoto (fried smelts) weren’t an easy sell. Nor were moussaka (think shepherd’s pie) and pastitsio (somewhere between lasagna and a meaty baked mac & cheese).

“I grew up eating moussaka and pastitsio,” Chalkias explained. “It must be a generational thing.”

The kids, it seems, just aren’t keen on casseroles.

That’s probably true, given the success of other menu items, like the expanded dip options with variations of hummus, eggplant, and garlic. And the feta bowls with a base of saffron rice, gyro, chicken, or souvlake, topped with lettuce, tomato, onion, and peppers are a Greek reinvention of an increasingly familiar fast casual standard.

Never one to rest on his laurels (bad Greek pun intended), Chalkias is connecting with younger clientele through an active social media presence, to fight the generational drift that slowly dooms family restaurants, as seen recently with the closing of The Florentine. The unique selection of Greek beer and wine also attracts the Yelp crowd and helps tempt and introduce the authentic charm to folks well beyond Whitehall.

The irony of starting as an alternative to a full-service restaurant and eventually becoming one hasn’t been lost on Chalkias, nor are the long odds of success with any restaurant offering ethnic fare outside a well-established ethnic neighborhood.

“We’re supported by the Greek church, and hope to have more special events like our anniversary with Greek music and dancers,” he said. “But it’s our customers, our staff, and our community that have helped us make it this far.” ▩

King Gyros and Chalkias are celebrating their 25th anniversary this year. For more, visit kinggyros.com

March 15, 2017

Tradish

Originally published in the Spring 2017 issue of Stock & Barrel

Pizza is probably our most prolific and pervasive ethnic fare. But “pizza pie” hasn’t always been as American as apple pie. It was originally dismissed as immigrant food — and before the 1950s, Columbus was one of the only cities between New York and Chicago you could even find it.

As waves of immigrants from Italy settled along the East Coast and in close enclaves across the country, they weren’t always welcome. In Columbus, one of those neighborhoods was Flytown, so nicknamed because the new homes there seemed to “fly up overnight”. A mostly Irish community, by the early 20th century, immigrants from Italy and elsewhere in Europe also called it home. African Americans fleeing the south settled there as well.

That’s where Columbus pizza history had its undisputed origin, at the oldest Italian restaurant in town, TAT Ristorante Di Famiglia — named as a nod to the new Transcontinental Air Transport, which also opened for business in 1929. Promising travel from New York to Los Angeles in 48 hours through a network of planes and trains, Columbus was the starting point for all flights west. First served off the menu, then officially added in 1934, TAT served pizza in the Flytown neighborhood — ultimately relocating to 1210 S James Road in 1980, where it is still owned by the Corrova family.

But those early pizzas bore little resemblance to the modern pizza most know, more like a focaccia that sometimes lacked cheese during the depression or due to war rationing. Flytown suffered during those decades, eventually declared blighted by the Columbus Redevelopment Authority and leveled just as the city’s pizza scene was starting to emerge.

That’s also when bragging rights for the oldest pizza place in Columbus become a bit more murky, and where old menus and old memories don’t always agree.

By the late 1940s, returning GIs in Italy weary of rations had their first taste of “pizza” and were looking for it in the Italian neighborhoods and restaurants many once shunned. That’s also about the time Jim and Dan Massucci and Romeo Siri started serving what most of us would recognize as pizza at their restaurant in Grandview. The Massucci brothers opened Massey’s Pizza in late 1949 at 4464 E Main Street — where it remains today after more than a few renovations and updates.

“It’s been added on several times, but it’s still the original building,” explained Dave Pollone, who along with his brother Jed acquired Massey’s Pizza in 2000. “Jim and Dan Massey started it, but Guido Casa bought them out in 1962. My grandmother was Guido’s aunt, so we’re cousins.”

“Our dad used to get us pizza from Romeo (Siri), but it didn’t have cheese under the pepperoni. It was just dough, sauce, and pepperoni with a little parmesan sprinkled on top,” he recalled. “The first time I had pizza with cheese under it was from Johnny Remeli, when he used to make pizza in the back of a place called the Musical Bar on Parsons Avenue.”

Though the Massucci brothers are known as the founders of Massey’s, the Pollone brothers have stayed true to Guido Casa by refusing to follow the industry trend toward faster-cooking, conveyor ovens.

“You can’t make a pizza in a conveyor oven, it just doesn’t cook the bottom right. That’s why all of these old pizza places still use deck ovens,” Pollone explained. “The oven in Whitehall is the original rotating-deck oven from 1949. It’s like a Ferris wheel in there.”

Though Massey’s remains ubiquitous in Central Ohio, they weren’t the only ones pushing modern pizza into the mainstream. The Angeletti family still owns Ange’s Pizza, opened in late 1951 before moving to their oldest location at 139 S Yearling Road early the following year. Tommy’s Pizza still has two locations on Lane Avenue opened in the 1960s (and one in Dublin), but Iacono’s original place near E 5th Avenue and Cassidy Avenue opened in 1952. (In fact, Tommy’s only added “pizza” to the name of the restaurant after demand for the novel dish outpaced the rest of the menu.)

Gatto’s Pizza at 2928 N High Street was Clintonville’s first, also opened in 1952 by brothers Jim and Joe Gatto. Johnny’s Pizza on Parsons Avenue opened in 1953. Rubino’s brought pizza to Bexley in 1954, and likewise endures with a faithful following at 2643 E Main Street. And the original Josie’s in Franklinton at 952 W Broad Street has been around since 1959, with extended family operating the Hilltop location in Westgate. Johnny Remeli wasn’t the only Columbus pizza pioneer making pies in back. A young Jim Grote famously started selling pizza out of the storeroom of the hardware store across the street from 1000 Thurman Avenue where the original Donatos still stands.

“Every Friday night, my dad brought a pizza home for dinner,” recalled Donice Foraker, who recently retired as director of special projects and “on-site historian” for Donatos after more than five decades. He scarcely recalls a time when Columbus wasn’t a pizza town.

“My older brother worked for Donatos too. He started doing deliveries while I was still washing pans,” he explained. “That was 1966 and we were kids, but by 1978, I was running the store. After a couple of years, Grote asked me to come work with him — to tell him what was right and what needed to change as the company grew.”

“All of the pizza places on the south end had a good reputation,” Foraker noted. “We were competitors, but we all knew and respected each other. For those of us who are still around, it’s still that way.”

It’s a shame we don’t celebrate legacy and longevity the way we do new and shiny. The 1950s was a transformational decade — from fenders to fashion, hairstyles to hemlines. Americans are historically fickle, and Columbus is no exception. But these early ethnic eateries endured, doing their part to spread pizza’s popularity throughout the Midwest, long after the Lustrons lost their luster.

Though each neighborhood could claim which pizza place is the oldest in their particular part of town, deciding which is the oldest in Columbus isn’t as easy as it seems. There are competing claims, but also some shared credit to go around. All of these places survived despite economic declines that saw competitors and imitators come and go. They also held their ground against big budget, corporate carpetbaggers muscling into their territory. And they fearlessly defended thin crusts and square-cuts from their detractors — because a pointy, triangular slice with a chunk of crust at the end as a bland handle violates the implicit social compact of pizza, with varying slices just right for any age or appetite. But, if “oldest” really means “original”, the answer becomes more certain.

There is only one pizza place in the running that’s still in their original space, run by the original family, using their original recipe: Gatto’s Pizza.

“Vince and Joe Jr. started working here in high school on the weekends. It was a family business,” explained Bill Fulcher, the youngest of the three cousins who carry on Gatto’s pizza heritage. “I started when I was a sophomore, so I’ve been here 45 years.”

Fulcher went on to Ohio State and still works for the Ohio Attorney General’s Office, but also wanted to keep the family tradition alive.

“Jimmy Corrova is actually our cousin, so we know TAT is really the oldest pizza place in town,” he said humbly. “But I think we have remained the same the longest.”

Point of fact, Gatto’s is essentially unchanged after all of these years. A picture from the mid-1950s hangs on the wall that is nearly indistinguishable from the present. (You’d need Doc Brown and a DeLorean to tell the difference.)

“We have families who have been coming here for decades, or people who went to OSU who come back to Columbus and say the place is just like they remember it,” Fulcher explained — noting the sauce, sausage, and meatballs haven’t changed either. “They’re all my grandfather’s and my uncle’s recipes. That’s why our customers always come back to us. It’s because we really haven’t changed anything in 65 years.”

This honor won’t sit well with everyone, and that’s fine. Nor should it discourage fellow members of this exclusive, half-century fraternity from staying true to their roots, while still looking forward. This wasn’t a dough town throw-down or neighborhood grudge match. It’s hopefully part of that overdue celebration of legacy and longevity that Columbus often lacks and we all tend to overlook. My challenge to each of you is to discover for yourselves why all of these pizza places are unique. Central Ohio is rich in pizza history, and each of us shares a slice of it with everyone else.

The best pizza is still one that brings people together, stirs a memory or creates new ones, that fills more than your stomach, and last long after the box is empty. ▩

December 1, 2016

Forged By Fire

Originally published in the December 2016 issue of (614) Magazine

First, forget everything you know about barbecue.

It’s not because you’re wrong — it’s because barbecue is more than you probably think. It’s not just having the talent and patience to let food cook low and slow. It’s about assembling the right ingredients and giving them just enough time to create something that defies expectations.

That’s exactly what you’ll find at Rooks Tavern, a dining destination with the neighborhood feel necessary to stand out, after years of mindful and meticulous preparation and planning.

“Originally, it was just going to be a typical Texas barbecue joint. We’d open at eleven, and close when we were out of meat,” explained owner John Havens, half of the creative duo behind Rooks Tavern. “That’s such a part of Texas culture, but it’s not like that in Columbus.”

“The original menu design was developed over two years through a combination of investigation and experimentation,” noted owner Aaron Mercier, the other half of Rooks Tavern. “We’re respectful of the ingredients, and the culinary traditions we’re applying. But we’re also doing something unexpected.”

“Barbecue can be so much more than ribs, pulled pork, and brisket — all of ours are excellent by the way,” Havens quipped. “But, every culture in the world has a barbecue tradition.”

The two met in high school, and despite a few moves along the way, both settled back in Columbus. Havens’ formal background in portfolio management, and Mercier’s in medieval literature, aren’t the common curriculum vitae for two guys elbowing their way into the restaurant racket. But their authentic Texas roots and keen kitchen chops are actually enhanced by the sense of trends and love of language that set Rooks Tavern and its evolving menu apart.

“One of our best-selling dishes is our beets. We take beets and par-cook them, then throw them in the coals of the fire,” Havens confessed. “After a while we pull them, peel them, and serve them over sheared chevre and a beet green puree — then we take some of those ashes that we keep and mix it with the salt. It’s one of the best things on the menu, and it’s totally vegetarian.”

“I tried it once and it was a smash hit,” Mercier noted. “It’s a process of research, citation and adaptation.” (It turns out that Copenhagen beet barbecue was actually inspired by a Danish dish Mercier found and refined into something entirely original.)

You’ll find more than a few surprises on the menu, as well as daily and seasonal specials — pulled pecan-smoked ruby trout, low country succotash, and a Western-inspired French stew they describe as a “Cowboy Cassoulet”. Weekends get weird with smoky banana-pecan French toast with Mexican chocolate, rib-meat poutine with mole gravy, and the “Austin Hangover” featuring up to a full pound of pulled pork or brisket, slow-cooked for 18-hours in one of Rooks’ two custom smokers — affectionately named “Pancho” and “Lefty”.

Rooks Tavern chooses local ingredients whenever available and appropriate for the menu, with more than a dozen farmers, bakers, and makers stocking their kitchen.

“Barbecue gets maligned as simple comfort food and very rarely gets elevated to fine cuisine, which it absolutely should be. It takes so much more work and knowledge and art,” Havens said. “We have no gas firing our smokers or our grill. It’s all based on how long can you hold your hand over it and how hot is it. So our cooks are constantly adapting. There are so many more variables.”

Another challenge in opening any restaurant is breaking through with customers, critics, and fellow culinary professionals in a city that takes its restaurant scene very seriously.

“I learned a lot about how to open restaurants the right way — and the inevitable chaos even when you’re doing it the right way,” Mercier explained, whose tenure at The Guild House was a proving ground for the process of opening their own restaurant.

Beneath their beards and boyish charm, both hide the résumés of restaurateurs forged by fire. Instead of tutoring for extra cash while finishing his dissertation, Mercier was working at Austin’s famous Blue Ox. Havens was trudging through stock trades by day, but also seasoning his partner with pictures of food trucks by email, hoping to find the right nudge.

“We were unusually prepared for a couple of amateurs,” Mercier chided. “We were ready to be unready.”

Eventually, the idea settled in during a summer stint with family and friends in the Adirondacks. Sitting out on the dock after supper, taking in the still of the lake and a generous share of bourbon, the two decided the time to fail was while they were still young enough to recover. After a couple more years of slow, steady heat, Rooks Tavern was finally ready to serve.

“Restaurateurs want other restaurateurs to succeed. It’s incredibly supportive here,” Mercier revealed. “Young chefs in particular want to raise the bar in this city, responding to national trends but applying Midwest values to them, to make them accessible.”

When best friends go into business, it can easily become a recipe for disaster. But these two wiseacres seem to have it down. Even the most incidental interaction reveals Havens is the affable Ben Affleck matched by Mercier as the more ruminating Matt Damon. Yet both are free from the ego that easily comes from early success.

When pushed for the biggest disagreement they’ve had in opening the restaurant —who won, and who was right — the answer was unequivocal.

“The menu…” Mercier replied without hesitation, about two seconds before Havens cut him off with a swift, “I won.”

Who was right is still disputed. Mercier contends the language in the original menu was too heavy-handed. Havens concedes it could use some tinkering.

Much like their barbecue, the truth is probably in the middle — never overcooked, nor underdone — but always adapting and improving. ▩

December 1, 2016

Satire, Super-Sized

Originally published in the December 2016 issue of (614) Magazine

In case you missed it, Columbus just became home to the world’s most subversive sandwich.

If Morgan Spurlock hangs up his handlebar mustache tomorrow, he’ll forever be famous as the guy whose one-month stunt eating nothing but McDonald’s fare changed the way Americans think about fast food — or, maybe not. By now, the gag is out of the bag. But the last laugh may still be on us. Holy Chicken, his latest venture, launched its first location as a four-day pop-up amid apparently oblivious fanfare. Unlike rival restaurants, it advertised antibiotic-free, hormone-free, cage-free fowl with unprecedented honesty.

“We’re going to bring total transparency to a lying industry,” said Spurlock, between a call-and-response chorus of patrons packed before his poultry pulpit. “HOLY CHICKEN,” he chanted—and his faithful flock followed.

If Andy Kaufman had opened a fast food franchise, it would be difficult to distinguish it from Holy Chicken. As far as the simple menu went, it seems like a genuine attempt to offer a better bird for a premium price. But, you’re also being served some super-sized sarcasm on an artisan bun, with a side of social satire.

The signs were everywhere.

No, really — the signs were all over the joint.

From on-the-nose aphorisms about the persuasive psychology of “healthy and relaxed” green and “enthusiastic and energetic” orange to a snarky “SEE YOU SOON” on the exit with the disclaimer, “Most doctors and nutritionists would recommend that you eat Holy Chicken only once or twice a month to maintain a balanced diet. But that probably won’t stop you, will it?”

“Americans make bad choices all the time,” said the straight-faced Spurlock, noting the ominous warnings in friendly fonts occupying the walls. Spurlock’s old-fashioned ribbon-cutting ceremony included representatives from Experience Columbus and the Chamber of Commerce, as well as a proclamation from the State of Ohio — presented against a backdrop of folksy, farm-to-table, illustrated insights titled “Know Your Chicken,” “Know Your Farmer,” and “Know Your Vertically Integrated Corporate Supply Chain.”

I have to admit, the sandwich was pretty tasty — despite the dire and discouraging décor. I went for the “Grilled Crispy Chicken Sandwich” topped with maple mustard, pickles, and homemade slaw. The side of “Crunchy Greens” was actually batter-dipped green beans. Both were fried.

“We don’t use the F-word,” Spurlock quietly confessed. “People like ‘crispy’ and ‘crunchy’ food.”

That’s not much consolation if you worry about what you eat. Americans rarely read the fine print, and apparently they aren’t fans of larger-than-life print either. The chicken sandwich, their only entrée, weighed in at 860 calories. Add those fried green beans at 190 calories, and your total matched that of a Big Mac and large fries from Spurlock’s former nemesis.

If that realization wasn’t enough to offset your appetite, the annotated, meticulously staged mural of the same sandwich should have. Photoshop trickery is always a given — but using KY in the coleslaw to create a more marketable image could leave you feeling queasy.

The genius: Spurlock wasn’t hiding any of this, making the distinction between sincerity and chicanery difficult to tell, hard to sell, and harder to swallow. Though he described the use of real wood surfaces to “give you thoughts of nature, trees, cute little farms with barns, and other healthy stuff” — a discrete lean over the counter into the kitchen revealed an employee literally using a brush and stencil to paint charcoal stripes on the grilled chicken.

Holy Chicken claimed its food was “too good to be true.” Whether the hundreds who lined up were willingly duped, blissfully ignorant, or just playing along was an even-money bet. The hype was real, even if some weren’t sure the restaurant was. Perhaps that was the point, along with gathering a lot of footage for some future film or television endeavor. Americans care less about antibiotics, hormones, and cages than they do feeling good about themselves.

They want guilt-free fast food — disclosures be damned.

But in the days that followed, social media cried foul and the local press was unimpressed. Spurlock’s epic editorial on deceptive practices had some screaming the sky was falling without considering the moral of the story.

Columbus was invited to be in on the joke, not the butt of it. As America’s test market, we’ve seen our share of half-baked ideas. This was not one of them. There was no subterfuge. Holy Chicken sold sandwiches, not snake oil. Better yet, they sold them at a price we should expect to pay for better chicken and better wages. That chicken was all that was advertised—free from the ambiguous labels we presume are bad, but have lots of legal leeway. And those employees were paid $15 an hour, far better than Spurlock himself made during his last gig in Columbus.

The premiere episode of his groundbreaking television series, 30 Days, followed the filmmaker through the struggles of minimum wage employment. It’s no coincidence he returned here to unveil his latest project, even if some were swept up in the same cognitive dissonance behind the foods we choose everyday. Of all of the premium modifiers used to describe his chicken, “healthy” was never one of them. Presuming the rest somehow made it so was exactly the linguistic leap the fast food industry expects us to make, and any backlash instead of hilarity that ensues proved it.

Did Holy Chicken disclose in unapologetic fashion exactly what they were serving? Were you initially elated that a healthier restaurant was finally meeting customer demands, only to have your hopes dashed again? Were the sandwiches they served likely no better than those sold by nearly every fellow fast food chain? Yes? Then shut the cluck up.

Spurlock didn’t reduce cultural commentary to a crappy carnival ride. He elevated it to an innovative, interactive experience. Holy Chicken wasn’t a hoax — it was a catered performance art exhibition. Luckily, most folks were all too honored to eat it up. ▩

Super Size Me 2: Holy Chicken! is now available to stream on YouTube, Amazon Prime, and iTunes.

July 1, 2016

The Night is Young

Originally published in the 2016 FAMILY issue of (614) Magazine

I won’t pretend being a work-from-home dad isn’t daunting. I’ve been there, and what you gain in flexibility and time with your kids is often the envy of 9-to-5 fathers who may get home in time for dinner, soccer practice, or dance class—but rarely much more.

Dads who mostly work nights and weekends may miss a PTO meeting or orchestra concert, but the practical aspects of modern parenting remain culturally biased toward mornings and afternoons—and moms, in particular. But it can’t all be storytimes and jungle gyms. Too many tea parties are enough to drive a dad to drink.

That’s the Day Dad Dilemma, but Night Dads have fewer options still. When the park gets dark and the school day looms large the following morning, are there any adventures for fathers and their children to make Day Dads envious for a change?

As it turns out, there are — and Columbus is full of them.

Here’s an enviable itinerary for dads (or moms) hand-picked to help reconnect and create memories as the day grows long and the night is still young.

South Drive-In | 3050 S High St. | southdrive-in.com
Nothing says nostalgia like a drive-in theater, and the South is the last one in town.
Located between downtown and the south side of 270 is a time machine of epic proportions. Two giant screens set back from the road noted only by a modest marquee. The evening double feature is the best deal in Columbus. Adult prices are about the same as the multiplex, but kids’ admission is just a buck—plus you can bring your own snacks. Lawn chairs and a blanket are great, but lounging behind your windshield still works just fine. Get there early for the perfect spot and stay late for the second show.
Best Bets: It’s easy to fall into the dad-time trap of “just you and me, kid.” And maybe that’s fine for the first film out. But sometimes, being a dad is best experienced as a spectator sport. Next time, bring a few of your kid’s friends along, buy a big bucket of popcorn, sit back and marvel at how connected kids can be when they are all watching the same thing as a shared experience, instead of being individually glued to their iPads. Not all screen time is inherently bad.

Ten Pin Alley | 5499 Constitution Blvd., Hilliard | tenpinalley.com
If your idea of summer fun is indoors and air-conditioned, go knock down some pins.
Ten Pin Alley may be outside the outer-belt in Hilliard, south of Cemetery Road, but the updated lanes and legit food and drink offerings make it a destination worth the drive. Bowling alleys easily get a bad rap for the dingy décor and smoke-stained ceiling of another age. Not here—it’s all kid-friendly and kid-approved. The recently renovated lanes also complement the robust, rotating bar menu and craft beer selection. You might just have to return another time with your grown-up friends.
Best Bets: If you go often, the Summer Bowling Pass is the way to go. For $100, you get an hour of lane time every day for up to six people (including shoe rental), through October 30. As if that wasn’t already a deal, a portion of the proceeds got to Big Brothers Big Sisters of Central Ohio. This is another opportunity to bring your kid’s friends along and revel in the shared social awkwardness of adolescence.

Tinker | 3933 Trueman Blvd., Hilliard | tinkercolumbus.com
For those unfamiliar with the “maker” movement, Tinker is your crash course.
Tinker offers children immersive access to emerging technologies like robotics, coding, and 3D printing. Just inside 270 off Fishinger Road, their class schedules cover toddlers to teens, as well as an occasional Makers’ Night Out where you get to take what you create. Birthday parties, or even hosting your own “maker mentor” event for your kids and their friends, offer options to build fairytale terrariums, design dollhouses, construct marshmallow shooters, or make superhero costumes.
Best Bets: If your kid is already obsessed with Minecraft, take the next step and go for a coding workshop. The sleek simplicity of the Raspberry Pi platform and its hardware are a low-cost entry into custom computing—even for elementary ages. Reluctant to buy your kids their own computer? How about letting them build one instead (for less than $50 in parts) so they can create their own games?

Comic Town | 1249 Morse Rd. | worldofcomictown.com
Be the hero and introduce your kid to a universe of imagination and adventure.
Comic shops all need to find a niche to survive, and Comic Town has found several. Sure, you’ll find the standard fare of new releases and long boxes of back issues, but the comics market has become a collectors market as well. Action figures for kids and pricier cast statues coveted by adults intermingle with graphic novels and role-playing paraphernalia. Evening hours also host trading card games, like Magic: The Gathering, nearly every night.
Best Bets: Every dad loves a bargain, and the dollar boxes at Comic Town are treasure chests waiting to be discovered. These aren’t just bent-and-ding covers or unpopular overstock. Flip through the stacks to find well-known titles from Marvel and DC to obscure and independent releases. Some aren’t even that old, and include codes inside for digital copies you can download. You can even buy the following issue through the app to see what happens next. Added bonus for paper comics, they never need charging.

Vertical Adventures | 6513 Kingsmill Ct. | verticaladventuresohio.com
Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise: we all know that DAD + DANGER FUN.
Their new facility just north of The Continent is bright and inviting for climbers of all ages and abilities. Though safe and supervised by capable staff, it’s not without the sensation of danger kids crave. Hands-on dads who want to try it on for size first should consider the Ropes 101 class. You’ll learn the basics and how to “belay” (hold and handle the safety rope) for your child. Plus, the class includes a two-week pass to try everything in the gym and scout out the best courses and climbing walls for your kids.
Best Bets: The Summer Climber’s Club runs Monday and Wednesday evenings for two hours of small group climbing, knot-tying, and practical problem solving that work the mind and body. Bring their friends or make some new ones. Need a little more support? Vertical Adventures also offers a Climber’s Club for kids with autism on Tuesday nights to build confidence and social skills while learning rope techniques and bouldering basics. Both classes are just $15.

Glass Axis | 610 West Town St. |glassaxis.org
Working on your cool dad cred? How about teaching your kid how fun it is to play with fire?
What started in the late 1980s as a “traveling hot shop” founded by a handful of OSU students and graduates has grown to become a Franklinton fixture for the art of blown, fused, cast, and stained glass. With more than 12,000 square feet of studio and gallery space, the class calendar covers nearly every night of the week and experience level. The organization has its roots in GCAC’s Artists-in-Schools program and the love for teaching still glows like molten glass.
Best Bets: You wouldn’t expect their “First Experience” classes to be so comprehensive and varied, but they are both. With projects and prices ranging from glass beads and blown ornaments to paperweights and neon, there’s the perfect project for you and your kid. Dads are often maligned for lame gift giving, so maybe make that first foray a present for someone special, like a teacher or grandparent?

Natalie’s Coal-Fired Pizza | 5601 N High St., Worthington nataliescoalfiredpizza.com
Who says you can’t take your kid to the bar for a live show?
Well, not exactly “the bar.” Yes, Natalie’s does have a credible collection of craft beers and cocktails. But your kid is always welcome for eats and a show, so long as they sit at a table instead of by the taps. Though perhaps not a school night outing, their musical lineup is as eclectic as the toppings on their pizzas. The clean-burning, coal-fired oven creates a crisp crust and bubbly cheese, paired with impressive local and regional acts in an intimate, purpose-built performance space in Worthington.
Best Bets: Digital downloads just can’t compete with the palpable hum of live music. Acts range from blues to bluegrass, simple to soulful. Many shows start at 8 p.m., but if you get there before 7 p.m. you can grab the best table and still sneak in for the happy hour food specials. Highly recommended is the “seasonal pie,” offering the chef’s daily selection of fresh ingredients and locally sourced toppings. Come early, stay late, and let their pizza and performances surprise you.

Spoonful Records | 116 E Long St. | spoonfulrecords.blogspot.com
Go old school and teach your kid what music was like before there were iPods.
This downtown, down-low location is an unpretentious destination for established and aspiring fans of analog audio. Spoonful Records finds just the right mix of collections and conditions to keep the experience approachable and affordable. Reissues and rarities round out the bins of classic and contemporary releases. There’s also a rich range of reasonably priced turntables, which they assemble on-site, that are perfect for your newly pressed audiophile.
Best Bets: Record Store Day can be crushing in any small shop, so try a weeknight when there’s more time to meander, sift through the stacks, and play some free pinball. Don’t judge an album by its cover, either. The best looking album cover could conceal a well-worn LP, and the rough covers sometimes reveal pristine vinyl that’s rarely been played. Take anything you find for a spin before you buy. ▩