Originally published in the May 2020 issue of (614) Magazine
Pizza is probably our most pervasive comfort cuisine, and a predictable staple for those who already preferred to stay at home. With ample options available for take-out and delivery, why would anyone choose one from their freezer instead? Fired Up Pizza is the answer.
After successive stints as executive chef at two Cameron Mitchell restaurants, Michael Rice was ready to create something entirely different, but still from scratch. His mobile wood-fired pizza oven for catering can turn out 60 handmade pies an hour. But with corporate events and family gatherings on hold, his fledgling side hustle selling frozen pizzas is heating up.
“I think people are really surprised how well it comes out. I get that a lot and when we do samplings at farmers markets or wherever I’m selling them,” revealed Rice, who founded Fired Up Pizza in part to create a closer connection with his clientele. “It’s not like a restaurant kitchen. When you’re making a pizza right in front of someone, it becomes a conversation.”
Farmers markets led to local grocers, like The Hills, Huffman’s, and Weiland’s, and eventually Marc’s and select Giant Eagle locations. From classic Four Cheese and Margherita to Pesto Chicken and Roasted Mushroom, even the chewy crust with a little char still holds up. Variety varies at each store, but he’ll deliver whatever you want to your door for a modest minimum order.
“Independently-owned, local grocery stores are a lot easier to get into just because there aren’t as many layers. They’re very supportive,” he noted. “It’s a more gradual process with larger grocers, but probably a good thing that we weren’t everywhere all at once.”
Shrink-wrapped and oven-ready, at a price point between typical freezer fare and a freshmade pie, Fired Up Pizza hits the sweet spot. ▩
Originally published in the March 2020 issue of (614) Magazine
Photo Provided
Cultural critics used to dismiss video games as an isolated obsession. That’s hardly the case anymore, if it ever was. Even back when neighborhood kids used to huddle around an Atari for hours, it was always social, competitive, and often collaborative.
Now with most households capable of streaming data at speeds that would probably melt a dialup modem, online gaming has come of age, and those same critics are now forced to reckon with millions of players engaged in an emerging entertainment medium that scarcely existed a generation ago.
“It’s a completely different landscape today than when we launched Major League Gaming. But even then, we predicted that video games would have their own version of the NFL,” explained Adam Apicella, CEO of Esports Engine, the Columbus-based startup built on nearly two decades of industry expertise. “It’s what we set out to create back then.”
That early insight wasn’t far from foreshadowing. Through a series of expansions and acquisitions, what started as Major League Gaming in 2002, better known now as MLG, has become a leading player in a global phenomenon—with Esports Engine at the edge of an evolution, backed by gaming industry veterans, long-time collaborators, and the former CEO of ESPN and NFL Network.
Launching Esports Engine in Columbus was always an obvious choice, even if not for Ohio University graduate Apicella’s familiarity with the market and the proximity to Ohio State and dozens of additional colleges and universities throughout Central Ohio. Even MLG’s 2014 investment in a dedicated, 14,000 square-foot, live competition arena in an empty warehouse that used to be an indoor bounce house, was no less ironic. Gaming had grown up.
“Back in the late nineties, early 2000s, multiplayer games first started to pop onto the scene. I think the first I remember was James Bond GoldenEye on the Nintendo. You could have four players on one TV,” he explained. “Publishers started to realize these multiplayer components would create longevity for their games. You’d sell a ton of copies, but after they’d beaten the game, they’d put it away and not play as much after that. Multiplayer changed everything.”
A ton of copies is not entirely hyperbole. The same month Esports Engine opened its doors this past October, Activision Blizzard released Call of Duty: Modern Warfare. It was the most successful digital launch in the company’s history, generating $600 million in the first three days. For comparison, that’s nearly twice the worldwide, opening weekend box office for the final installment of the Star Wars saga. Apicella knows the industry and the stakes well. When MLG was acquired by Activision Blizzard in 2015, he was promoted to vice president, and helped design the launch of earlier Call of Duty releases.
“Multiplayer is the bedrock of esports, and publishers saw players would keep playing. Now when a game launches, people still play it years later, spending money within the game through microtransactions,” he revealed. “It’s a completely different line of revenue that didn’t exist when I first started with Major League Gaming.”
Apicella admits that despite concerns about over-hiring in anticipation of brisk business from the moment they launched, they have already doubled the size of their staff in just six months. Created as a one-stop production powerhouse for organizing large-scale exhibitions and competitions, he soon discovered an unexpected demand as a consultancy for those struggling to host their own events, challenges he understood firsthand.
“When we first started out, we had trouble booking venues. We’d have to prepay in full because people thought it was some sort of scam. They didn’t believe this was a real thing,” he recalled. “Now we have cities begging, commissions and convention and visitors bureaus fighting, to bring our business to their markets.”
Despite cities in the US and around the world eager to get in on the ground floor of live, competitive gaming, Columbus was still the right fit for Esports Engine. After considering several sites, Apicella found Smith Brothers Hardware “checked all of the boxes”. Hosting clients from Riot Games and Microsoft to colleagues from Activision Blizzard, the proximity to downtown, the Short North, and the campuses of Ohio State and Columbus State was too perfect to pass up.
“Everyone wants to reach 18 to 30-year-olds and that’s our sweet spot, and we have an epicenter of that demographic right in our backyard. We’ve built out a newsroom style studio, like MTV used to have with Total Request Live, where you can see what we’re producing from the lobby,” he explained. “We can have meetings down here in a premium space, and then go up to Juniper afterward, which is one of the coolest spaces in the city. It was important for us to have an office that was a representation of Columbus when we bring in people who may not be familiar with the city.”
But gaming is more than just college kids blowing off steam or skipping class, and it’s a misperception the industry pushes back as it moves forward; the stereotype of a sedentary, socially awkward kid playing video games in his mom’s basement doesn’t match their broader metrics. Women are among the fastest growing segment of gamers, and the collaborative component of most games forges real friendships that defy typical social stratification.
“Our big, live events are where they meet up, like any sporting event, whether they are players or spectators. Tens of thousands of people, so it’s not a solitary endeavor,” he noted. “Gaming transcends a lot of things. It’s blind to race, gender, socioeconomic status, physical characteristics. It’s inclusive. Anyone can play and compete.”
Despite the enormous economic implications, there’s still a modest, Midwest sense of purpose dating back to the early days of Major League Gaming that resides in the DNA of Esports Engine, and a culture that continues to permeate the entire industry.
“There’s a diversity in this space, men and women playing on the same team as equals. And there’s a lot of crossover,” he noted. “You know what’s awesome? Watching a six-foot-seven NFL player standing behind some skinny kid, going nuts watching him play, cheering him on. It’s a reversal that really doesn’t exist outside our arena.▩
For more about Esports Engine, visit esportsengine.gg
Originally published in the February 2020 issue of (614) Magazine
Photo by Rebecca Tien
Aslyne Rodriguez is pitch perfect, though not necessarily in any sort of musical sense. Her passion for transportation innovation demands immediate attention in any room, and by the time she’s done making the case for bringing equity to employment through a tiny fleet of commuter buses, folks often find themselves singing the same tune.
But when she was handed the microphone at a gathering of stakeholders at Rev1 Ventures discussing the city’s ongoing efforts to increase economic inclusion, the set list suddenly changed. Instead of delivering her polished pitch on urban mobility to a capacity crowd, she was overcome by her own unlikely origin story. She reflected on her grandparents’ journey from Puerto Rico with only an elementary education, and welled up as she revealed her grandmother’s dream of opening a cake shop that never came to be. Raised near Youngstown, her parents both worked for the local school district—her mother a guidance counselor, her father a school bus mechanic. It was an early epiphany, realizing the parents of the kids who rode those same buses to school everyday often struggled to get to work themselves, that would become the inspiration and driving force behind EmpowerBus.
“That was a raw moment. Something came over me and I needed to tell that story,” confessed Rodriguez, founder of EmpowerBus. “There are communities with the desire to be entrepreneurs but they don’t have the pathway. Not everyone can do a friends and family round of fundraising for their startup. I’m only one generation removed from coming here with limited education and not knowing the language.”
What started with a single 25-passenger bus that shuttled employees from the Morse Road corridor to New Albany has in two years pivoted to a more nimble 14-passenger model with routes throughout Central Ohio, including the addition just last month of an autonomous shuttle service in the underserved neighborhood of Linden as part of the Smart Columbus initiative. It wasn’t a contract she pursued, but one that found her based on a reputation of earnest intentions in a community that can prove short on trust after decades of disappointment.
“We have been loved by the community in a way most companies aren’t. But we’re still very careful about how we use the term ‘social enterprise.’ People think, ‘Oh, you’re a nonprofit and you do good work.’ ‘No, we’re a for-profit business that wants to do good work,’” she explained. “In some circles of Columbus, social enterprises are still misunderstood. We want to grow our business, and take care of our people. It’s how we expand to serve more communities.”
Like most midsize cities, Columbus wasn’t created for cars, but evolved to rely on them almost exclusively. Half a century of urban flight only amplified our cultural dependency on single-occupancy vehicles. Recent years have seen an overdue disruption in transportation, from Uber and Lyft to scooters and self-driving vehicles. But depending on any of those to get to work, an internship, or a doctor’s appointment reliably is dicey at best and undeniably cost prohibitive. For those of more modest means, the transportation revolution is still leaving them behind, and the face of who is left out is changing.
“Everyday in America, 10,000 adults turn 65 years old. They all don’t need shared transportation, but they may be taking care of aging parents who do — and they could soon too, or may just want to opt-out of driving,” she explained. “They call it the ‘Silver Tsunami’. But people are also moving back into cities, they want walkability and maybe don’t want to have or need a car.”
The dynamics of demographics are changing all around. A relatively recent return to city centers has actually reduced the pool of potential employees for companies with warehouses beyond suburbia. Bus routes tend to cover the hours and destinations of those heading into downtown, not out of it. It’s a gap EmpowerBus closes, often cutting travel times by municipal buses in half with fewer stops, and with routes and a scope that have both expanded to bring employees in rural Licking county closer to Columbus, as well as transport employees from the Southeast side to destinations in Delaware.
“How do we get people to a job that helps them advance their lives? Workforce is still a central conversation for us,” Rodriguez noted. “Maybe they are working a job they can walk to that pays them $10 an hour, but maybe with transportation they can get to a job that pays $17 an hour with benefits and a 401k? That’s a big deal, it changes their lives.”
Mobility means more than just transportation, and Rodriguez is the first to admit her ambitions are audacious. Recent partnerships with Spectrum and Accenture will introduce an educational component to EmpowerBus during the ride with tablets as teaching tools. Second-chance employment for those exiting incarceration combined with low unemployment create a catalyst for hiring that wouldn’t happen without access to locations that are desperate for workers, but often in areas where they are in short supply.
“Smart Columbus prompted a broader conversation about workforce transportation. A lot of companies created ‘mobility ambassadors’ to discuss opportunities they wouldn’t have considered otherwise,” she revealed. “We’re also a logistics hub with a lot of manufacturing and distribution that happens here, and the market is tight. Employers are more open now to second-chance employment than they have been in the past. But how do those potential employees get to a job that allows them to restart?”
As with any startup, the future is where the rubber hits the road. Helping prospective employers identify “opportunity zones” based on their current workforce, or simply reducing the demand and cost for employee parking, illustrate the balance of creative and comprehensive solutions the company can offer — more than just in Columbus. Invitations to expand to cities elsewhere in Ohio, as well as surrounding states, show just how far and wide word has spread about EmpowerBus, its founder, and her dream. Aslyne Rodriguez moves people.
“The next step for EmpowerBus is to fulfill everything we set out to do and see what that looks like at scale. Our goal is to deliver upward mobility for all by providing dignified, reliable, on-time transportation to work, education, and healthcare,” she explained. “Expanding into another city and just scraping by isn’t a strategy. We’re a startup that has bootstrapped it so far, and we have to decide if we’re going to go big or grow incrementally. But for now, we’re investing in our people and processes, so when the time comes to scale up, we’ll be ready.” ▩
For more information on EmpowerBus, visit empowerbus.com
Originally published in the January 2020 issue of (614) Magazine
Don’t believe those who deny Columbus is a city defined by its pizza as much as any other industry. Dating back nearly a century from off-the-menu offerings appealing exclusively to Italian immigrants to the avant garde ingredients that reimagine the familiar format, our pizza has always been more craft than commodity, and often a family affair that also dates back decades.
Ezzo isn’t the first name that comes to mind when you think of Columbus pizza, but it probably should be. What started in upstate New York four generations ago in a family grocery store that stuffed its own sausage has grown into perhaps the most pervasive and prolific premium pepperoni purveyor in the world, run entirely from the company’s recently expanded facility on the city’s far westside. Former Ohio State wide receiver Bill Ezzo grew the brand after the family business relocated to Columbus from Indiana in 1978, a legacy his sons Darren and Jon now share and enthusiastically embrace. Both are integral to daily operations, but Darren has slowly become the unapologetic ambassador for an unlikely empire.
“As kids, we were always driving with our dad to pizzerias. Tom Angeletti’s father was always around. He and our dad were tight so we would go to Ange’s or Capuano’s. We actually knew the people who became the namesakes of Columbus pizza,” recalled Darren. “I grew up a block away from Rubino’s. As soon as I was old enough to hang out with my friends, we used to walk from Bexley High School, pool our money, and buy a couple of pizzas and play pinball. That was a big part of my childhood.”
The rest of the country has finally started to figure out that Columbus pizza isn’t simply distinguished by the crust and the cut, but the toppings as well. As indelible as the blend of cheese or sauce recipes is the pepperoni. Not that flat nonsense the national chains sling on triangular slices. So-called “cup and char” pepperoni that curls up in the oven as the casing cooks to a crispy edge contrasting the savory center. It’s a difference old school mom and pop shops and a rising tide of craft pizzerias favor over cheaper options from multinational, processed food conglomerates.
“The reason our customers are so loyal is because we don’t compromise on ingredients. Every commodity pepperoni manufacturer uses pink slime to reduce cost and boost their lean protein because they use trimmings instead of muscle meat. We use shoulders and cheeks, that’s it,” he noted. “Our competitors have started to cut their pepperoni thicker trying to get it to cup like ours. But that just means our pepperoni offers better coverage, even if it costs a little more per case.”
Though Ezzo sells several varieties of pepperoni, and a spectacular sliced sausage, it’s their cup and char that remains their most beloved product, and an elusive one for home chefs hoping to up their game. Ezzo only sells to places that serve pizza, not retail customers. But their signature slices are so sought after, there’s actually a somewhat secret network of online outlets that somehow procure pepperoni by the case, then sell it by the pound—an unofficial pizza underground.
Pizza as most of us know it is largely an American invention with distinct regional differences. During an excursion to Italy, Darren unwittingly arrived in the tiny town of Terracina on a religious feast day. Without a taxi to be found to his destination, he ended up sharing a less familiar pizza at the train station with some locals—a simple focaccia with just a splash of sauce and a little shaved parm—a stark departure from a cracker-thin crust and toppings so thick they fall off the edge.
“There’s something in-between those two things that is the perfect pizza. I really think you should be able to see the sauce under the cheese, a balance of ingredients that doesn’t bury any one thing,” he opined. “It’s okay to experiment. If people didn’t, everyone’s pizza would be the same. It doesn’t matter where you are, or if you put pineapple or fresh cut flowers on it, so long as you make it your own.”
Darren isn’t a reluctant or reclusive ambassador, logging more time in the air than an astronaut and more miles in the past few years pitching prospects and converting clientele than a round trip to the Moon. Though he still prefers to drive to cities like Philadelphia, Chicago, Detroit, Nashville, and New York, lesser known pizza joints from Portland to Pakistan, Denver to Dubai, aren’t exactly accessible by car. Wherever he can’t reach easily by planes, trains, and automobiles, he relies heavily on the internet to help advance the brand.
“One of my ex-girlfriends works at Google. When I was wondering if I should start an Instagram, she said, ‘Why wouldn’t you? You’re out eating pizza anyway, you might as well document it.’ I didn’t think anyone would be interested in following a meat grinder,” he chided. “It turns out pizza tourism is a real thing, and every time I post a photo of someplace that uses our pepperoni, I get more followers and they get more customers.”
As with any premium producer of authentic foods, quality control is crucial. A recent recall of some Ezzo products—not unlike an occasional Jeni’s Ice Cream recall — is indicative of just how diligent those standards are. Darren revealed the affected products never left the production facility, and the expanded recall was entirely precautionary. In fact, Ezzo customers, and their customers as well, are so fiercely loyal to Ezzo, the biggest concern for most was how quickly they would receive more stock, including Tom Angeletti of Ange’s Pizza.
“Tom was actually my first boss. I used to work at Ange’s on Yearling as a teenager. He once told me I was the slowest pizza maker in America. I decided I’d stick to making the dough after that,” Darren confessed. “Tom is practically family. I’ve known him my whole life. That’s also what sets Ezzo apart. We’re as passionate about pizza as our customers. But they’re also family, and our family keeps getting bigger.” ▩
Originally published in the Winter 2019 issue of Stock & Barrel
Photo by Brian Kaiser
No one really opens a restaurant expecting to become a neighborhood landmark. But the right restaurant, one that brings people together and bridges the generational divide that dooms too many family businesses, are exceedingly rare.
Vinell “Ena” Hayles didn’t even set out to open a restaurant. But her Sunday suppers became such a local legend, the suggestion she should share her recipes and expertise with her Linden neighbors eventually became inevitable.
Born in Jamaica, Hayles opened her venerated eatery in December of 1999, a milestone enviable in a city that sees plenty of restaurants fade away as initial intrigue evaporates and diners drift elsewhere. Though her stretch of Cleveland Avenue had no shortage of shuttered storefronts, Hayles didn’t anticipate becoming an anchor in a neighborhood hungry for one. “My house was already a restaurant. Everyone knew dinner time was 5 o’clock, and my kids had to be home for family dinner. So they brought their friends,” Hayles recalled. “They all knew they had to behave and show respect. Those are still the rules in my restaurant.”
In her flour-covered apron and signature fedora, Hayles doesn’t look the part of a matriarch. But as soon as she walks into the kitchen, everyone still kind of stands at attention, even her husband Lloyd. Her commanding presence alone all but demands it, despite her diminutive stature. Aside from the obvious commercial amenities, it’s not really that different from the home kitchen where the idea started two decades ago.
“I knew people wanted real Jamaican cuisine. If you come to my house, you’ll get ackee and saltfish for breakfast. Dinner will be curry goat and oxtail, maybe a little jerk chicken. So that was our main focus,” Hayles explained. “Lamb and the curry goat are the most popular. People order our oxtail and taste the difference because we use real honey, real garlic, real hot pepper, and real thyme in our seasoning.”
A variety of fish are also among the more original offerings with perch, red snapper, whiting, and tilapia all served with traditional rich brown stew or vinegary escoveitch—or as a sandwich, if you’d prefer. Comfort food sides from rice and beans to collard greens highlight flavors from the Caribbean to the Carolinas.
Authentic and uncompromising, the menu is actually deeper than it appears, with well-executed standards and less likely Sunday brunch specials that reflect the diverse neighborhood dynamic. Chicken and shrimp gumbo, crawfish and crab gravy and biscuits, and tiger shrimp and smoked Gouda grits blend Hayles’ own upbringing with the low country favorites of the Deep South and the African origins of her fellow immigrant community. Catering was an early extension of the business, with take-out tickets already rivaling dine-in guests. She also serves more cornbread on the average day than some restaurants serve customers.
“People used to ask if we were open on Sunday, and I’d say no. But my son Marlon said, ‘Well, you take Sunday off and I’ll do it.’ I’m not in the kitchen at all,” she chuckled. “I’ll come from church and pick up dinner, but Sunday is his day and his menu. It was his idea, but he still had to go through me. I had to taste everything first before we started Sunday brunch.”
It’s nearly impossible to achieve made-from-scratch results in even the most well-appointed restaurant kitchen. The missing ingredient is always time. That’s why you’ll find Ena’s preparing for lunch as early as 4AM during the week, and starting to prep for Sunday on Saturday night before returning nearly as early the following morning.
“My circle of influence is my circle of friends who are Caribbean, African, and Creole. The brunch menu reflects all of that. On Sundays, my whole family works in the kitchen: my kids, my sister, my nieces and nephews,” explained Marlon Hayles. “There’s a connection to the food and the culture, they’re proud in a way that only comes from having your name in the game. I don’t look at this as work. I’m just making dinner with my family.”
Marlon is one of five children who have all put in time at the restaurant over the years, and still do, between academic and occupational pursuits elsewhere. Evenings and weekends bring everyone together in the kitchen just like any family, except their kitchen is the restaurant.
“We keep getting asked to open another Ena’s, but how can you recreate something like this and have the same consistency and quality? That’s where the food trucks came from,” he explained. “We were trying to figure out the best way to get out there without losing that sense of ourselves. We have one here and one in Cincinnati. It’s still family and was easier than opening up another brick and mortar. Everyone can still get their Ena’s fix.”
Every restaurant has its secrets, and fortunately for the future, Ena’s are safe. Recipes still mostly made with a lifetime of experience and a dash of intuition were diligently written down, an heirloom more families should pursue lest their own legacy of recipes becomes lost forever. And fortunately for all of us, Hayles has no plans to retire any time soon. She now sees the same neighborhood kids who used to tag along for Sunday dinner fully grown, stopping by to share memories and recipes with kids of their own. But Ena is still no nonsense, and isn’t going anywhere.
“It’s just like it was at my house back then. If you don’t behave, you have to leave,” she laughed. “The neighborhood has changed, but everyone still knows us here. They respect what we do. This is where I started, and this is where we want to stay.” ▩
Ena’s Caribbean Kitchen is at 2444 Cleveland Avenue. Visit them online at enascaribbeankitchen.com
Originally published in the December 2019 issue of (614) Magazine
Columbus is a city of contradictions, often to the surprise of visitors and newcomers alike. Still sadly maligned by some as a cowtown, we’re actually equal parts cosmopolitan and metropolitan, and as soon as the world thinks it has us figured out, we reveal another side—sometimes surprising even ourselves.
Parallel to our rugged, working-class reputation is a burgeoning credibility as a world-class technology town. Startups and bootstrapping were our proverbial bread and butter a decade ago, but the roots run deeper. As a call center capital, thanks in part to our unassuming Midwest accent, earlier industry innovators from CompuServe to Sterling Commerce called us home. The world’s first firewall and wireless router were both created by an OSU grad back in the early days of the internet. Even today, from ridesharing rivals like Uber and Lyft to more spontaneous transportation like CoGo bikes and electric scooters of all stripes, if it takes off here, it will probably fly anywhere.
But those achievements are past and present. Columbus is a city of the future, and the changes over the past decade only hint at what the next decade may hold. Sure, we didn’t land Amazon HQ2, but Google’s $600 million data center in New Albany is more than a parting gift. As the fastest growing city in the Midwest, Smart Columbus is already investing nearly as much money between an initial $50 million grant and more than $500 million in private funding into creating and testing next-generation transportation solutions, then sharing these lessons through an “online playbook” with cities around the globe. Local blockchain pioneers Safechain and Ethex are already applying durable, redundant database design across industries, and the venture capital interest in what’s going on in Central Ohio hasn’t stopped there. Even the ongoing grumbling about Short North parking comes amid an award-winning effort to modernize meters by effectively eliminating them. We really are the test market for any new idea, not just what’s new on the menu.
As surrounding states shrink in population, Columbus is attracting talent at an enviable rate. STEM schools used to be the exception, and now such science, technology, engineering, and math programs are the standard. Efforts like those of the PAST Foundation and Invention League are cultivating future innovators who already call Columbus home through hands-on application of design thinking principles to address real-world problems.
Key to all of these endeavors is collaboration, something Columbus tends to do naturally and better than most. Where industries in similar cities compete, ours exchange insights conspicuously. From beer to barbecue, coffee to cuisine, mutual admiration and collaboration are just part of who we are. It’s our prototype for progress.
“The roots of the Collaboratory, in terms of underlying philosophy, are an extension of what we know as the ‘Columbus Way’. It’s well-documented, there’s even a Harvard case study on it. It’s how corporations work together to raise the collective tide,” explained Ben Blanquera, Vice President of Delivery and Experience at Columbus Collaboratory. “Historically, this has manifest itself through the Columbus Partnership, a collection of city leaders across lots of industries who ban together to leverage resources to do the most good, from the arts to economic development.”
With its origins in the Columbus 2020 initiative, recently rebranded as One Columbus, the Columbus Collaboratory’s membership is a who’s who of industry partners filling a crucial void in shared services—cybersecurity and advanced analytics. Hanging a shingle and hoping customers walk through the door just isn’t good enough anymore. They have to trust you first, if not foremost.
“The character of this region is its defining competitive advantage. Couple that with being a great place to live with 70 percent of the country’s GDP within a day’s drive and it creates a flywheel that’s speeding up,” he noted. “It’s why the number of college graduates in Columbus who plan to stay in Columbus is rising. The Collaboratory is still a startup, and startups require talent as much as capital. Columbus attracts and retains both.”
The nexus of next steps isn’t an isolated investment. Startups require shared insights as much as shared services. So-called coworking wasn’t even in the local vernacular a decade ago. Now it’s the most likely launch point, and not just to split rent and utilities. The critical mass of complementary skills often generates the necessary escape velocity to turn an idea into an enterprise.
“The reason growing companies are crucial to any region is that early-stage companies tend to create the majority of net new jobs. It’s important to have the right mix of new companies, companies that are growing, and successful companies that stick around,” noted Kristy Campbell, Chief Operating Officer at Rev1 Ventures, an investor startup studio that helps entrepreneurs build the foundations for sustainable expansion. “We’re here to focus on those early companies, innovators who are doing something new and novel in their industry.”
Innovation and investment are mutually dependent, but are far too often mutually exclusive. Closing the gap between a great idea and the financial resources to get it out of someone’s garage is where Rev1 Ventures steps in, pulling folks together individually to the same table and collectively under one roof.
“Rev1 Labs is just part of what we do. About a third of our clients have operated in the space, and the rest are operating throughout the region. But they are all headquartered locally and are what investors consider high-growth firms in one of the industries that are commonly backed by venture capital—like enterprise IT, healthcare and bioscience, food and ag tech, advanced materials and manufacturing, alternative energy,” she explained. “Access to advisors is why many are here. But they also value having fellow entrepreneurs around the corner. What’s unique about this innovation center versus some that you see in other cities is that we’re not dedicated to one industry. That cross-pollination of ideas reflects the culture of Columbus.” ▩
For more about Columbus Collaboratory and Rev1 Ventures, visit columbuscollaboratory.com and rev1ventures.com
Originally published in the November 2019 issue of (614) Magazine
Photo by Kyle Asperger
It takes more than glass mugs and an umlaut to make an authentic German biergarten. Columbus has no shortage of beer or brats, and our undeniable ethic heritage puts the bar pretty high for anyone tempted to tap into the old country without seeming opportunistic or insincere. That’s why Gemüt Biergarten was so long in coming, and well worth the wait.
Inspired by their travels and smitten with the sense of community found among the biergarten scene in Germany, Chelsea Rennie and Kyle Hofmeister knew they wanted to build something together that balanced business and ambition with family and friends. Even their pending wedding didn’t diminish or defer their dream. They were in it together—for better or “wurst.” But they soon found themselves sharing that vision. Rob Camstra and Nick Guyton, already acquainted and formerly of Four String, pitched the couple on brewing their own beer on-site instead simply offering imports and an authentic atmosphere. The idea made financial sense and the fit was fortuitous, as the four found their talents and experience so complementary, a new partnership was obvious and inevitable. Finding the right place proved more challenging.
“We always wanted to be in Olde Towne East, we all live here. But after a year of site selection, we just kept hitting walls,” recalled Rennie, Creative Director for Gemüt Biergarten. Her husband Hofmeister serves as CEO, with Camstra as Director of Brewing Operations and Guyton as Head Brewer. All are co-owners. “We knew wherever the brewery would be, it had to be on solid ground. Everywhere we looked was heavily critiqued. We had to know how much weight the floors could hold, or if we could add onto the building.”
The search slowly expanded, at one point including an old firehouse off South Parsons. But ultimately the building that was once the Columbus Music Hall, also a former firehouse, offered the old bones, ample parking, poured slab, and an enormous outdoor courtyard to complete the allocation of essential spaces. However, firehouses can be complicated retrofits, often as immutable as they are beautiful. Intricate stained glass and warm wooden features now soften the stark utility. The interior isn’t simply transformed, it transports you to another continent. Astute patrons can still spot where the old truck doors used to be, and aside from some subtle architectural cues, Gemüt looks and feels like it was transplanted intact straight from Germany in a giant crate labeled, “Biergarten: Just add Water, Hops, Malt, and Yeast.”
But biergartens aren’t built overnight, and long-awaited is also a polite euphemism for long-delayed. Unforeseen factors contributed to an opening that led into Oktoberfest more by accident than intent. The federal government shutdown earlier this year pushed Gemüt’s brewing operation back months, followed by a liquor permit fiasco that forced a last-minute cancellation of their soft open. Neither scenario is unique, or even uncommon, but the team’s collective experience in both the brewing and restaurant industry helped adjust expectations, avert disaster, and push forward.
“The building was empty for 10 years, so there were some changes in zoning that popped. We were actually ahead of schedule, and then it became a waiting game,” she revealed. “We submitted the paperwork for our brewer’s license in December, but because of backlog from the government shutdown, we didn’t get it approved until July. There were months when we had no idea when we would start brewing or finally open.”
Beer is essentially bread you can drink, but it takes more than an hour in the oven and time is the only commodity you can’t buy at any price. However, delays sometimes offer a silver lining, getting to revise, refine, and set the stage for a well-oiled opening instead of a hurried or haphazard one. Executive Chef Adam Yoho’s menu continued to evolve just as Jeni Van Hemert expertise as Operations Director helped keep the entire project on track without letting the focus on customer experience suffer, despite bureaucratic interruptions that were unavoidably and out of their hands.
“It seemed like we were constantly waiting. It was a curse, and a blessing,” Rennie conceded. “We had more time to organize, as uncertain as it was. We just made it work, and when we finally opened, we could enjoy it with family and friends without the stress we expected.”
The menu still isn’t static, but it certainly isn’t your typical bar food, with seasonal offerings complimenting traditional standards and a credible beer selection. Rennie’s Macedonian family recipes make an appearance among a variety of chef exclusive wursts from The Butcher & Grocer, signature schnitzel, even a double-boned 20-ounce pork chop and a confit Cornish hen. Gluten-free and vegan options from Pierogi Mountain round out a menu with something for everyone. A wide wine choice, clever cocktails, and unexpected punches are served alongside their authentic German-style beers. The “Woden’s Hunt Dunkel” proved so popular, they actually blew through 30 barrels in just three weeks. Brunch specials on the weekends have already made it the breakfast brewery of choice among those seeking something hearty and heady.
“We may consider a larger commercial kitchen or additional brewing space elsewhere. There will only be one Gemüt, but we’re already considering future concepts,” she revealed. “Because we had such support from our investors, it allowed us to get everything we needed upfront. We never planned on a second phase, with construction interrupting operations after we opened. But this was always meant to be the stepping off point for the next project.”
Even among the owners, there’s an exceptional egalitarianism rare among restaurants and taprooms, the absence of which tends to undermine operations before the first plate or pint is served. The room for individual expression and unnamed passion projects already brewing is a fitting metaphor for the name that emerged late in the planning process, but on time and on brand.
“We knew we got it right when we opened and people instinctively started sharing tables, meeting neighbors they didn’t know. Gemüt is short for ‘gemütlichkeit’, which is the feeling you get in a biergarten. It’s about community and acceptance,” Rennie revealed. “In Germany, at a biergarten, everyone’s equal regardless of social status, income, occupation, you let all of that go. It’s about coming to drink and eat and celebrate together.”
Gemüt Biergarten is located at 734 Oak Street. For hours and operations, visit gemutbiergarten.com
Originally published in the October 2019 issue of (614) Magazine
Photo by Brian Kaiser
Stacie Skinner doesn’t look like a superhero, but to parents whose kids have food allergies, she’s only missing a mask and a cape. With a secret identity as astute as Bruce Banner and mild-mannered as Peter Parker, her background in retail planning and food industry R&D revealed a hidden superpower.
No one was making really good gluten-free waffles. (Well, she was, but no one knew it yet.)
“I wanted to have my own business, and I knew it would be gluten-free, to accommodate some of the allergies that affected my family,” Skinner explained, whose own childhood memories of cooking with her mother in Lopaus Point, Maine inspired more than just the name of her company. “I thought local farmers markets would be a great place to try out my recipes. But when I started, it was mostly cookies and breads.”
Families with food allergies have to travel a little differently than those who don’t. You can’t just eat anywhere along the way. This writer also happens to have two kids who have issues with both wheat and milk. Before the proliferation of gluten-free and dairy-free options at the average grocery or restaurant, we had to bring all of our food with us. We didn’t simply pack for the weekend. We had to pack like we were going to the Moon.
Skinner’s breakfast staple epiphany similarly came during a family vacation, staying in a hotel room with a kitchen, as many food allergy families often do. Even if you plan to prepare most meals yourself, you can’t pack everything—particularly a waffle iron.
“I bought a box of frozen gluten-free waffles for my son to have while we were there. But when he made them, he held them up to the light and they were so thin, he could see through them,” she recalled. “Then when he ate one, he said they were “disgusting” and asked, ‘Why don’t you sell your waffles?’”
Every superhero has an origin, and it doesn’t have to be as dramatic as gamma rays or a radioactive spider. Skinner followed her son’s suggestion and decided to try selling her waffles at the farmers market, which for aspiring food entrepreneurs is often their first and most effective focus group.
“My other baked goods were selling well, but they weren’t as unique. There were plenty of gluten-free products on the market that were sweet, but not necessarily wholesome,” she noted. “So I decided to let everything else go to focus exclusively on the waffles.”
Ketchup wasn’t Henry Heinz’s first foray into condiments either. His humble start was actually selling horseradish. But something simple and sweet soon proved more popular and profitable.
“I knew the waffles would be a meal component, and hopefully a snack. I felt like they needed to be made with better ingredients that were nutrient dense,” Skinner revealed. “A lot of gluten-free products are simple starches, sugar, and something to bind them together. I wanted these to be more.”
Soon Banana Flax led to additional flavors, like Wild Blueberry, Chocolate Chip, and yes, Pumpkin Spice. A vegan version is among the most frequent requests, and already in the works. Free from most major allergens, raving fans and demand quickly grew beyond just gluten-free customers and local groceries.
“Retailers are used to products that have a crazy shelf life—like two years for some frozen foods. I don’t understand why anyone would have six delicious waffles in their freezer for two years,” she chided. “It’s why partnerships became essential, and I was lucky to have a supportive, local community of fellow makers to guide me.”
That’s when the collaborative culture that binds Columbus became baked into Lopaus Point. Instead of the cutthroat culture common between competitors in most cities, Skinner actually found mentorship among established gluten-free businesses, offering advice and insights on how to grow smarter, not faster. Bake Me Happy, which has their own gluten-free bakery, even sells her waffles. How’s that for an endorsement?
“Just because you’re avoiding an allergen, it doesn’t mean there’s a compromise in your tastes,” she explained. “We think this is the product people deserve, and small makers help create these new markets and can often right the wrongs of big companies whose early attempts fall short.”
Starting a specialty food company in Columbus also happened to be its own happy accident. Skinner’s earlier career brought her from Boston. But after meeting her future husband here and time spent away from Central Ohio, it wasn’t our test market credibility that convinced them to return. It just felt like home.
“Our kids were getting old enough and almost ready to start school, so we moved back to Columbus. It was the only place we both had in common, even though we had no family ties here,” she recalled. “We loved it so much and knew it was where we wanted to raise a family.”
Still very much a local brand, Lopaus Point recently launched a mail-order option for folks beyond the Midwest and East Coast reach of their grocery distribution. Skinner discovered many of her customers not only order for themselves, but as gifts—for someone who may have just been diagnosed with an allergy to college students who still struggle with dining hall fare. There’s even a subscription program. Automatically getting a big box of waffles in the mail every month might be the best thing since Netflix.
Staffing also sets Lopaus Point apart. Their first kitchen was a shared space that worked with Franklin County to provide opportunities for adults with developmental disabilities that too often limit employment options. Now nearly a quarter of her staff have similar challenges, working in roles from preparation to packaging. It was the final ingredient Skinner realized she was missing.
“I knew my company had to be bigger than just a product, and our special needs staff are an integral part of our entire operation,” she explained. “We’re not just serving customers whose dietary needs are often overlooked. It’s also about providing opportunities for people in our community whose potential is overlooked as well. At Lopaus Point, we want everyone to feel included.” ▩
Lopaus Point waffles are available at retailers throughout Central Ohio. For locations and online orders nationwide, visit lopauspoint.com
Originally published in the October 2019 issue of (614) Magazine
When Chris Baggott returns from a run to the ClusterTruck kitchen, he’s almost always late, and his fellow drivers don’t mind letting him know it. Tight delivery times aren’t just an expectation for the fledgling food service. It’s part of the brand, serving fresh fare to waiting patrons often in less time than the average restaurant.
So what’s ClusterTruck’s trick to providing such a wide range of high-quality cuisine at a record pace? There’s no restaurant, and their slowest delivery driver, Chris Baggott, is also the CEO.
“I don’t go out as much as I used to, just to keep my hands in it. But when I get back minutes later than our more experienced drivers, they laugh at me,” Baggott confessed. “If you’ve been doing this for a year, you’re good at it. You know which corner or which door, a little shortcut here and there. Faster delivery is what makes our business work.”
Quietly creeping into the local culinary scene between the flood of innovative eateries and a fleet of food trucks are so-called “ghost kitchens.” They’re restaurants without the restaurant, focusing exclusively on delivery without the hassle and overhead of running a retail establishment. Homegrown concepts like Food Fort Columbus and 1400 Food Lab help industry entrepreneurs prepare meals with all of the precision of their retail rivals. Kitchen United, which already operates locations in Pasadena and Chicago, is scheduled to open their latest facility in Grandview Yard this year as the next phase of an ambitious nationwide expansion. For those struggling to find and afford suitable space, it’s the culinary equivalent of co-working and part of an already $100 million food delivery industry.
But ClusterTruck remains the original, unapologetic disruptor. Operating out of an inconspicuous warehouse near downtown Columbus, it relies on its own dedicated delivery team instead of contract food couriers to serve their hungry customers.
“There’s a broken model in third-party food delivery, from delays that affect quality to low courier morale. If you look at Yelp, a lot of the negative reviews are really criticisms of the delivery process,” he explained. “When I first looked at this market, the restaurants weren’t happy, the customers weren’t happy, and the drivers weren’t happy. So we deconstructed it and built a system that serves all of its constituents.”
That approach may sound a little wonky for a phantom food truck operator. But Baggott didn’t work his way into the restaurant business busing tables. His former life as a software creator proved both profitable and liberating, with earlier endeavors snapped up by Salesforce and Oracle for handsome sums. Along the way, he got back to basics, exploring his growing passion for sustainable agriculture, going as far as starting his own grocery store, then founding three farm-to-table restaurants from scratch. Baggott is as much a chameleon as an iconoclast, as comfortable in a conference room as a chicken coop. Even with dirt under his fingernails, the gears of an engineer are always turning.
“Let’s say the customer is five minutes away from the kitchen, and I have 30 minutes to get the order there. Our software manages our drivers, so we may not start making your food immediately,” Baggott noted. “Our driver may be able to make another delivery before your order is ready. We’ll start making your order when the driver is five minutes away. That way, you get your order on time, and fresh from the kitchen.”
Comfort food is evolving by definition. From hearty carbs to sophisticated salads, “comfort” is now more a measure of how food makes you feel, not an arbitrary attribute that’s the same for everyone. Meeting that ever-expanding expectation is also an edge for such hyper-efficient eateries.
“Ghost kitchens can iterate and innovate. We recently launched a gyro in Indianapolis. We also launched a protein bowl with hummus we make in house,” Baggott recalled. “That’s when we realized we already have pita, tahini, and chickpeas—we should make a falafel. Now, we’re testing recipes to launch a falafel.”
Not all revelations are as obvious or unemotional. Some menu items have also gone away when they didn’t make the cut, including their take on Johnny Marzetti. The Columbus customer base continues to grow, as are operations in Denver, Kansas City, and the original location in Indianapolis. But ClusterTruck locations in Cleveland and Minneapolis were temporarily suspended.
“Dropping Johnny Marzetti was heartbreaking for me because we already had all of the ingredients. I loved it, but it just didn’t sell. But a big advantage we have over a brick-and-mortar restaurant is access to data. A traditional restaurant may launch a new menu item and sell 500 the first day,” he explained. “But they can’t see who orders it again, or worse, who ordered it and never came back. All of those transactions are anonymous. We see everything, order rates and reorder rates. We don’t just know what sells, we know how it impacts overall customer experience.”
ClusterTruck launched a tofu kimchi burrito that initially sold very well, but then seemed to taper off. They dropped it, but once they dug into the data, they discovered existing customers returned, but customers whose first order was the ill-fated burrito didn’t. Their online menu has since become more adaptive, featuring items with higher rates of reorder for new customers, something typical restaurants just can’t do, and an insight they probably would have missed.
“One of the challenges with Cleveland and Minneapolis was building the brand. We were great at building kitchens and software, but frankly, we weren’t great at marketing because what we do is so different,” he noted. “We haven’t abandoned those cities, we’re just refining our marketing before we reopen. It’s one of the advantages third-party food delivery services like Grubhub and DoorDash have. They’re just adding a new service to an existing restaurant. We have to introduce a whole new brand.”
The funny thing about brands is that they aren’t how you view your company, it’s how others view you. And that’s also an inherent challenge for restaurants minus retail, even as the market for prepared foods booms. Catering is key for most ghost kitchens, and ClusterTruck tapped into it early, making group orders easier for folks with restrictive and selective diets, even offering access through the popular office collaboration platform Slack. Now about a third of sales come from group orders. But every new business needs a little luck and a leap of faith. Fast, free delivery still came down to customers meeting couriers at the curb, a hunch that paid off.
“That’s our entire business model, and the one thing we couldn’t know for certain before we launched if customers would be willing to do. It’s why our drivers get four to six, even eight deliveries an hour, instead of just one or two,” Baggott explained. “We’ve had more than a million deliveries and I can count on one hand the number of complaints we’ve had about having to meet the driver. When it comes to quality, every efficiency matters. It’s why customers are as much a part of our success as our staff and our software. They come to us, online and outside, and that’s what makes ClusterTruck work.” ▩
Originally published in the September 2019 issue of (614) Magazine
Columbus
is famous for a lot of culinary firsts, but rarely one of the last.
York
Steak House was once the prototype for red meat with a regal motif. While the
rest of the restaurant industry was trying to sell commodity steak cafeteria
style with strained western metaphors, York was quietly building a kingdom of
castle-inspired eateries.
Founded
in Columbus and topping out at 200 locations nationwide, when the mall craze
collapsed and tastes changed, York’s fortunes fell. But the very last one has
survived and thrived for more than half a century on West Broad Street by
remaining largely unchanged thanks to the steady, perhaps stubborn, strategy
still championed by owner Jay Bettin, who turned an abandoned outpost of a dying
empire into a nostalgic dining destination.
“What
made them really successful in the 70s and 80s was that they were in shopping
malls. Folks used to go out on Friday night, do some shopping, see a movie, and
eat at York,” recalled Bettin. “We were one of only ten locations that was
freestanding, so when malls started to suffer, it didn’t hit us the same way.
But you could still see it coming.”
Much
like the latest season of Stranger Things, there was always something dark and
sinister beneath the slick façade of the shopping mall. When Northland,
Eastland, and Westland opened in the 60s, they soon sucked shoppers away from
local businesses. Then when City Center opened downtown just as the mall
phenomenon was fading, there was a retail reckoning for the once bustling
suburban satellites.
“We
were originally part of a buyout. A guy was buying 25 York locations and
planned to turn them into Bonanza franchises. I was general manager here and
asked him if he would sell me just this one and he could keep the rest,” Bettin
explained. “But then Ponderosa bought Bonanza and his deal fell through.
Suddenly, mine was the only one left.”
Jay
Bettin isn’t trying to give Jeff Ruby a run for his money, even with an
enviable head start. Nor is he chasing the latest trends. You won’t find free
wifi or a convoluted allergen-friendly menu. There isn’t a rack of fixed-gear
bicycles or hipsters taking pictures of their food as it grows cold either.
Point of fact, the last time I was there for lunch, I was the only one among
more than 40 patrons shamefully pecking on a smartphone.
“Even
though we were a chain, we always ran it like a local business. We know our
regulars by name, and they often know each other,” Bettin noted. “We went back
to what made York great in the beginning — quality food and quick service in a
clean restaurant. We kept it simple.”
Simple
is a deceptive understatement. Bettin reconsidered every item on the menu and
element of the experience, from ingredients to presentation. The location was among
the first Yorks to add a salad bar, to fend off competitors who had already
done the same. And by salad, he means “salad”, not some bloated buffet with
heat lamps and entrees that have been out there for hours.
“We
don’t claim to have the biggest salad bar in Columbus, but I guarantee
everything on it is cut fresh here and isn’t pre-chopped and poured out of a
bag,” he revealed. ”Most family-priced steakhouses were focusing more on the
buffet than their dinner. It’s hard to do both well.”
York
Steak House started as a family restaurant that became a family business.
Bettin credits his wife with subtle updates to the interior that still preserve
the original aesthetic. Their three kids grew up in the restaurant, and all
worked there. Their daughter still puts in a few hours a week despite a career
elsewhere. Then there’s Jon Bettin, who works side-by-side with his father,
poised to continue the York legacy.
“People
come here for the atmosphere, because it brings back childhood memories. When
my son Jon was about five, we used to come in the morning and he’d ride his
scooter around the dining room,” Bettin recalled. “He’s kind enough to let me
feel like I still know everything and I’m in charge. But he’s also smart enough
to know he can change things that need to be changed. We share that
understanding.”
Sirloin
tips are still the number one seller. Even without adding mushrooms or grilled
onions, they beat any backyard steak and are surely superior to a few more
famous filets at twice the price. And with chicken, seafood, and pasta also on
the menu, you could eat at York several times a week, and many do. There aren’t
many restaurants where you can walk in with a group of eight people and get
seated immediately, much less order in minutes and be out the door again in an
hour.
“I
don’t have the overhead of a corporate office. It keeps our prices low. My
clientele is a little older and I’m obviously not going after the bar crowd.”
he chided. “Our meat isn’t marinated or over-seasoned and all of our steaks are
cooked to order. For the money, you’re never going to find a better steak.”
Bettin’s
early experience working in a bakery also shows in the dessert options. While
the industry average suggests about five percent of patrons order dessert, York
consistently finds closer to a third of its customers like to grab a slice at
the beginning of the line, instead of ordering it at the end of the meal like
most restaurants.
“Our
peanut butter chocolate cream pie is one of our best,” Bettin admitted. “The
fudge cake has been a standard from the start, but now we bake it in house.
It’s even better than it was 40 years ago.”
Hollywood
Casino gave the business a little boost when things were starting to slow down.
Bettin credits name recognition and nostalgia, but he’s also amused that folks
come from far and wide to drop a few hundred bucks down the block, but still
stop by York. The license plates in his parking lot reveal cars from
neighboring states, but also from Texas to Florida, Missouri to Massachusetts.
“Our
parking lot is in the back, so folks are sometimes surprised we’re still open.
People tell us they planned their vacation route to come here. It’s humbling
that folks will go that far out of their way to eat at our restaurant,” Bettin
confessed. “We’ve always been a destination. When people leave their homes,
they know they’re going to York Steak House. But now, we don’t always know just
how far they traveled to get here.”
York Steak House is located at 4220 W Broad, and is also the only location to ever have a website: york-steakhouse.com
