Category: Entrepreneur (page 1 of 7)

Hot Sauce Side Hustle

Originally published in COLUMBUS MONTHLY

photo by J.R. McMillan

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

… a spicy Postscript

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

Cleveland Ketchup Company’s Ghost Pepper · clevelandketchup.com

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

Mister Mustard and Mrs. Mustard · woebermustard.com

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

Sandwich Pal Smoky Horseradish Sauce · woebermustard.com

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

CinSoy Chili Crisp · cinsoyfoods.com

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

Double Comfort Fiery Chipotle Bourbon Sauce · doublecomfortfoods.com

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

Black Cap Hot Sauce · blackcaphotsauce.com

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

Check websites and social media for retail and online availability.

Hammer Time

Originally published in COLUMBUS ALIVE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wonderful Wizard of Za

Originally published in COLUMBUS ALIVE


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Hidden Cost of COVID

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Newfangled Kitchen

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Quinci Emporium’s Culinary Evolution

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

COhatch Rethinks Coworking

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Special Delivery

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

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

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

Spoonful Records | spoonful-records.myshopify.com

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Roll Bicycle Company | rollbicycles.com

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sound of Silence

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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