Category: Family (page 2 of 3)

Game On

Originally published in the 2018 issue of (614) FAMILY

Photo by Katie Forbes

Game nights are increasingly popping up at bars and breweries, and not just trivia. Old school board games and their modern-day descendants tap into the social necessity for competition. But parents are left out of the intersection of beer and board games as much as their kids—unless you head to Tabletop Game Cafe in Clintonville, a place that finally brings pints and half pints together.

With more than 500 games in their enviable inventory, offering the opportunity to “try before you buy”, owner and parent Aaron Brown wanted to create a destination for families as well as adults. But it’s not always about competition.

“We have more than 20 cooperative games where everyone is on the same team playing against the game. I recommend those to a lot of families with mixed-age kids,” he explained. “That way the kids aren’t playing each other on an uneven field. With cooperative games, they’re all working together.”

Imagine a play cafe, but for older kids, their peers, and parents. It’s genuinely multigenerational, which lots of so-called “family” activities really aren’t. Most relegate adults to simply a supervisory role. Tabletop is analog and interactive for everyone. It’s about disconnecting, and reconnecting.

For a minimum purchase of $6 per adult between food, beverage, and retail sales, you can pull up a stool and get your game on. Kids under 13 are even included with a grownup. Food options are fresh and better than your average bar fare, from hot sandwiches and espresso drinks to sweet and savory empanadas. There are also three dozen local and regional beers from which to choose between drafts, bottles, and cans, also a better selection than most bars.

“I love Argentinian empanadas because they’re the perfect gaming food. They’re small enough to hold in one hand and eat while you play,” he explained. “We started with those, but added deli sandwiches and some more snacks over time.”

Just because beer and board games go together, that doesn’t mean there isn’t any bureaucracy. Tabletop opened in September of 2016, but couldn’t add alcohol sales until the following February.

“Because Clintonville is a local option area, I had to collect signatures for a liquor license—twice. The first time, they discounted about 20 signatures and we ended up seven short. So I had to do it all again six months later to get on the ballot,” he recalled. “We had plenty of support once there was a vote. People understand Clintonville isn’t going to turn into campus anytime soon.”

Board games aren’t always about skill. There’s still a lot of luck, and the same is true of most businesses, occasionally serving a surprise clientele.

“We have tons of families who come in, including grandparents. But an unexpected demographic that we really appeal to is divorced parents who have weekend visitation with their kids—particularly dads and daughters,” Brown noted. “Board games don’t really have a presumed gender like a lot of activities. If you ask people what mothers and daughters do together, or what fathers and sons do together, you’re going to get a long list. But I didn’t realize how effective games are at crossing a multigenerational gender divide. We have regulars who come in on the weekends, with the time they have together, and they bond over board games.”

Games offer academic and developmental benefits, more tangible and tacit than the scholarly abstractions of game theorists. From math and science to history and geography, games can stretch the brain—tapping into popular culture, without becoming a monoculture. (Though it doesn’t hurt to have Stranger Things introduce a new generation to Dungeons & Dragons.)

“We have two kids who are academically doing great, and I attribute a lot of that to the board games we play, and how much they played growing up,” he opined. “It’s a learning experience, but they’re having fun. Homework can be a chore, but you can incorporate many of the same skills into a game, and all of a sudden kids want to do it.”

Board games also create opportunities for children and young adults who may struggle with sports or other common adolescent activities due to mobility challenges and disabilities which aren’t always obvious.

“We have several groups of kids on the (autism) spectrum who come here, and I love sharing games with that community. For kids who have trouble figuring out social cues, they often understand games really well because it’s a strict rule set,” he revealed. “These kids can interact with each other over a game and they have a great time. I think it’s important for them to have an opportunity to succeed and show their strengths to each other.”

Like any new pursuit, there’s always some apprehension. Brown doesn’t expect his staff to know the minutia of every game, just have a good grasp of a handful of go-to options for first-time families or those who may need a nudge in the right direction.

“On a Saturday night, there are groups of people, cracking up, and having a good time. One roll changes the whole game, and the table explodes,” Brown explained. “We have couples and families who come here to meet up with friends and try something new, who then become regulars. It’s an energy and an atmosphere you’re not going to get just playing at home.” ▩

For a complete list of games available and upcoming events, visit tabletopgamecafe.com

WHAT MAKES A PERFECT GAME NIGHT?

Aaron Brown isn’t just a guy who love games. He understands what makes a great game night and what makes a game great, having become a frequent source of insight for would-be game creators as they refine their ideas and seek investors.

Board games, not bored games

“I love games in which every turn you have to make a decision, there is something to do, you can make some mistakes early and recover later, and games you can teach in about 15 minutes and finish in about an hour.”

It’s okay to keep it simple

“I don’t need a super complicated game. I like to have several games over a game night. If you play one game for six hours, you probably only have one winner. But if you play three or four games, you can have multiple victors, and everyone gets to figure out what kind of games they like.”

Something for everyone

“If you play just one game and someone doesn’t like it, that’s their whole night. If everyone loves a game, you can always play it again. If not, you can try something new. Everyone isn’t going to like every game, so having different kinds of games increases the odds that everyone will find one they really enjoy.”

Alt Ice Cream

Originally published in the Fall 2018 issue of Stock & Barrel


Ask any ten strangers on the street what makes Columbus stand out and you’ll probably get ten different answers. But odds are no one will say frozen confections, and that’s a serious oversight.

Sure, Ohio’s ice cream scene has its roots in prohibition era politics and the non sequitur notion that replacing booze with scoops would somehow catch on. But it’s hard to hate on the idea that the best cure for a hot day is still a cold one — regardless of whether it comes in a can or a cone.

Jeni’s has definitely raised our international credibility as an ice cream innovator. (Seriously, they now serve it in business class on Scandinavian Airlines flights to Copenhagen.) But the trend doesn’t end there. Complex flavor combinations and unlikely ingredients abound around town, along with alternate formats that redefine the familiar summertime treat.

WORLD CLASS

Simply Rolled
968 N. High St | Columbus, OH 43201
673 Worthington Rd | Westerville, OH 43082

Originally tucked inside the old Oats & Barley Market is the next new thing, Thai-style rolled ice cream. Though their tea-inspired offerings may be tempting, you don’t have to be vegan to fall in love with their organic cashew and coconut milk ice cream, topped with subtle lavender honey and crispy waffle bits.

Freeze Style
1731 W Lane Ave | Upper Arlington, OH 43221

Still on the rolled ice cream kick, go traditional with Oreos and marshmallows, or go crazy with Lychee fruit and Pop Rocks. There are also several signature suggestions, like the decidedly Japanese Matcha Berry, a green tea base with strawberries, mochi, Pocky, and a little drizzle of sweetened condensed milk.

Dulce Vida Ice Cream Factory
4201 W Broad St | Columbus, OH 43228
2400 Home Acre Dr  | Columbus, OH 43231

Mexican ice cream is rich and velvety from the extra butterfat, but it’s the options that catch your attention before the first bite. From decadent Blackberry and Cheese and delicate Cactus Flower to sweet Corn and creamy Goat Milk Caramel, there’s far more than a measly 31 flavors from which to choose.

Diamonds Ice Cream
5461 Bethel Sawmill Center | Columbus, OH 43235
3870 Main St | Hilliard, OH 43026

Paletas is Spanish for “small sticks”, but these popsicles aren’t like any you’ll find in your local grocery store. Homemade with or without milk, there’s something for everyone, both sweet and savory. Whole-sliced Strawberry & Kiwi pops are cool for the kids, or maybe the Watermelon Chili pops for the grownups.

Coppa Gelato
925 N State St | Westerville, OH 43082

Italian ice cream actually has a little less fat, but is slow churned for a more dense and intense consistency. Served slightly above freezing, it’s made to melt in your mouth. Try a flight of any four flavors, or perhaps the Belgian Chocolate served “affogato” with a double shot of espresso poured on top.

Bonafacio
1577 King Ave | Columbus, OH 43212

Known for their modern spin on Filipino brunch and monthly Kamayan, or family-style dinners, it would be easy to overlook the dessert menu. But the Ube Ice Cream Sandwich, made from purple sweet potato, stuffed in a deep-fried bun topped with coconut and caramel is the street food favorite you didn’t know you were missing.

OLD SCHOOL COOL

Cream & Sugar
2185 Sullivant Ave | Columbus, OH 43223

Never short on snarky names — like Fat Elvis, Munchie Madness, and The $&@! Just Got Serious — guilty pleasure is an understatement. If your kid’s summer sugar rush makes the school year seem far away, try a double scoop of Exhausted Parent (bourbon-spiked espresso ice cream with bittersweet chocolate chunks) for a late-day pick-me-up.

Hilltop Dairy Twist
2860 Sullivant Ave | Columbus, OH 43204

Looking for more than 40 flavors of soft-serve? Swirled on a cone or into a cup, the entire experience is an echo of a simpler era. If you try their legendary blueberry shake, be sure to ask for extra blueberries and a big barrel straw so they don’t stay stranded on the bottom.

Clown Cones & Confections
3431 Cleveland Ave | Columbus, OH 43224

If clowns give you the creeps, consider yourself warned. But if sweet execution of creative flavors and a candy selection that would terrify any dentist are your thing, get in line. Decorated with decades of clown kitsch, channel your inner child and order a scoop of Birthday Cake ice cream with sprinkles.

The Little Ice Cream Shoppe
3229 Hilliard Rome Rd | Hilliard, OH 43026

For a city full of families, sometimes even ice cream gets too highfalutin. Not here. Clearly kid-friendly, hand-dipped treats of yesteryear share the spotlight with some surprises. The Key Lime Pie ice cream might make you pleasantly pucker and the Peanut Butter Brownie is the right balance between chewy and chilly.

Johnson’s Real Ice Cream
2728 East Main St  | Bexley, Ohio 43209
55 West Bridge St | Dublin, Ohio 43017
160 West Main St | New Albany, Ohio 43054

It’s hard to get more original than an ice cream parlor that opened in 1950. Four generations later, they’re still serving Bexley, plus two new locations. Can’t decide between a sundae and a split? Get both with a “Fudge Split”, three scoops and a banana covered in hot fudge, nuts, and whipped cream with a cherry on top.

Mardi Gras Homemade Ice Cream
1947 Hard Rd | Columbus, OH 43235

The name remains a bit of a misnomer. Though the style of ice cream is all American, the flavors feature an Indian flare. You’ll still find the traditional favorites, but who could resist the intrigue of Anjeer, rich and nutty dried fig, or the call of Kesar Pista, a blend of saffron, cardamom, and pistachio?

NO CONE REQUIRED

SNO-OH
Various Locations  |  Check sno-oh.com for schedule

This one actually is a Crescent City classic, just not ice cream. These New Orleans style snoballs (don’t dare call them snow cones) are as fluffy as freshly fallen snow, perfectly packaged in Chinese take-out boxes. From straight-up Strawberry to a spicy Pineapple-Habanero, their camper turned pop-up shop is worth tracking down.

J-Pops Gourmet Ice Pops
Various Locations | Check myjpops.com for schedule

Found at farmers markets and festivals throughout town, the name is a nod to the founder’s fascination with Japanese pop culture. But these clever creations know no borders with complex culinary combinations ranging from Lemon-Basil and Blackberry Mojito to Orange Honey Chamomile and Honeydew Cracked Black Pepper.

Rime Time Curiously Crafted Pops
Various Locations | Check rimetimepops.com for schedule

Featured at various events around Columbus, these upscale popsicles easily impress adults and kids alike. Their small batch chic status is earned and evident with year round standards like Strawberry Angostura and Peanut Butter & Jelly to sublime seasonal selections like White Nectarine Rosé and Sugar Cube Cantaloupe.

OH-YO! Frozen Yogurt
4226 Buckeye Pkwy | Grove City, OH 43123

Most “fro-yo” is only so-so, further diminished by its pervasive presence in strip malls and corporate cafeterias. But sweet treats like Toasted Marshmallow and Pecan Praline, and tart variations like Pomegranate Raspberry, deserve attention even before adding any of the hundreds of topping options from fresh fruit to candy crunch.

39 Below Frozen Yogurt
85 Parsons Ave | Columbus, OH 43215

Already infamous as the only place in Columbus where you can get pho and fro-yo under the same awning, this Olde Towne East eatery excels at hot and cold take-out. Though Almond Butter is probably their fan favorite, collaborations like Honey Espresso made with Upper Cup coffee from next door keep flavors lively and local.

Krema Nut Company
1000 Goodale Blvd | Columbus, OH 43212

Everyone recognizes the capital city’s preeminent authority on all things nuts. But many don’t know they also serve their salty spreads on a dozen different sandwiches, and maybe the best milkshake in the Buckeye State. Their Hot & Spicy Peanut Butter Shake is thick and creamy with the sweet heat of summer in every sip.


Back in Time

Originally published in the August 2018 issue of (614) Magazine

Photo by Collins Laastch

Scott Mulhollen stared at the screen in silent disbelief. With only an hour notice, he’d received a tip on an eBay auction too good to be true. As the clock ticked away with only seconds to spare, he made his first and only bid.

He took a moment to let the win sink in, then he picked up the phone to confirm it was all really happening. The stranger who answered seemed somber, then his wife got on the line and was clearly confused. She didn’t even know her husband was selling it.

“Who is this?” she asked again, to which he politely replied, “I’m Scott, the guy who just bought your DeLorean.”

Graciously offering to back out of the sale, Mulhollen learned the car was the couple’s first purchase together when they were wed in 1982 and had been meticulously maintained ever since. But now retired and downsizing, it was time to move on.

“I didn’t have the heart to tell them what I was going to do to their car. You never know how someone is going to react,” he recalled. “So I chose to respect their memories, assuring them I was going to take care of it as lovingly as they had, that it wasn’t going to a chop shop or flipper.”

Mulhollen wasn’t kidding. He loves the car, and has his whole life. But he’s no classic car aficionado or broker of automotive ephemera intent on turning a quick buck.

“You rarely find a car this pristine and well preserved, and never at this price,” Mulhollen explained, whose bid was well above the $28,500 he actually paid. “The guy who owned it before me was an electrical engineer and stripped the entire car and rewired it, because DeLoreans were known for sometimes catching on fire. Collectors want everything original, so I was the only bidder.”

That was hardly the end of the upgrades. It’s taken nearly 30 years and a small fortune to realize the vision of his adolescence. But after months of delays and painstaking modifications, Scott Mulhollen is now the owner of a bona fide time machine.

“I remember sitting in the theater as a kid watching Back to the Future and dreaming about someday owning ‘that car,’” he confessed.

Mulhollen now runs his own self-defense school, which often requires connecting with kids who aren’t always easy to reach. A long-time collector of iconic ’80s memorabilia, his office is more of a museum dedicated to his childhood, from Garfield to Ghostbusters. Not just trinkets either — everything from autographed animation cells to a legit proton pack. Even his martial arts background and enthusiasm for teaching grew out of his own experience with bullying. He was an actual Karate Kid who defied more than a few naysayers and turned a calling into a career. “When kids come here, it helps to let them know I was just like them,” he explained. “But there was still that one big dream that remained out of reach.”

For those of a certain age, it’s almost impossible to overstate how beloved Back to the Future is as both a personal and pop cultural milestone. I was an exchange student to Japan in the summer of ’86 and my host brother had a bootleg recording of just the audio from Back to the Future he’d played on his Walkman nearly nonstop for a year before I arrived. It’s essentially how he learned English. We’re still in touch, and can still exchange every line of dialogue even decades later.

“When I was initially considering all of this, I knew it had to be a business to make sense, but one that enabled me to share this passion with others and make a positive impact,” he recalled. “With the right combination of private rentals and charity events, I knew I could make it work.”

It cost nearly twice as much to convert the car as he’d paid for it, and it shows. It looks handmade, which it is and as it should. There’s a delicate balance to creating cinematic replicas. Too stingy and it feels cheap. Too polished and it feels mass-produced. Perhaps only the Batmobile is as indelible down to the most exacting detail. Complete with lighting and sound effects, diodes and doodads, Marty McFly himself couldn’t tell the difference.

“When the film’s prop makers were designing the car, they wanted it to look like something Doc Brown could have made in his garage,” he explained. “It took the builder seven months, and even then, he’d have taken another month or two if I let him.”

Once you get past the heavy price tag, the sticker shock gives way to immediate envy. Plenty of people spend as much or more on a midlife crisis car that no one wants to have over for their birthday party or private gathering. You could have just another Tesla, or you could have a time machine and folks will gladly pay you to come hang out for a few hours.

“My goal is three years to pay off the car, a few big gigs and we’ll get there,” he noted. “The car isn’t really an expense; it’s an investment that holds its value. I could sell it tomorrow and still make money on the deal.”

Delays in the conversion pushed the debut until just after Ready Player One’s premiere — which was unfortunate, but not tragic. Summer commitments like Ohio Comic Con and a recent al fresco screening of Back to the Future at the Gateway Film Center were already booked, and events to raise funds for children’s charities and Parkinson’s research were also in the works. But blockbuster blowouts aren’t the only option to get up close and personal with a piece of the past, or the future.

“I have a woman coming down today from Toledo with her husband to see the car, and he has no idea. Those are the reactions that are priceless,” Mulhollen said. “People get emotional, they get overwhelmed. I’ve had people cry before, whether you’re a CEO or the guy who operates the forklift. They may be in their forties, but when they sit in this car, suddenly they’re 10 again. It really is a time machine.” ▩

For scheduled events and private rental details, visit ohiotimemachinerental.com

Searching for Johnny Marzetti

Originally published in the Spring 2018 issue of Stock & Barrel

Philadelphia has the cheesesteak. Boston has clam “chowda.” And New York and Chicago are forever at odds over whose style of pizza is superior.

But did you know Columbus has its own signature dish?

Once an outsider from the East Coast, I thought Johnny Marzetti sounded like someone who might play shortstop for Reds or halfback for the Browns. Despite this lazy lasagna’s legendary following, the uninitiated often learn about it first from new friends and neighbors who eagerly share childhood memories of the dish and its local origin. That doesn’t mean everyone from the Wall Street Journal to Saveur hasn’t reheated the same tale of Teresa Marzetti naming the unassuming entrée of pasta, ground beef, tomato sauce, and cheese after her son-in-law, and how she served it in the family restaurant decades before the name Marzetti became synonymous with salad dressing. Even the Ohio History Connection seems to support the story.

Unfortunately, there’s very little meat to the myth. Though the restaurant was real (two of them in fact, run by two families both named Marzetti) not a single advertisement or menu from either over the better part of a century mentions the dish. Teresa was also very real, though the company that still bears her name is equally adamant that any relation to Johnny Marzetti is likely more folklore than fact.

But that doesn’t mean folks love it any less. It kind of makes it a legit urban legend. An Italian matriarch, fresh off the boat from Florence, pulls together some modest ingredients and creates a sensation so deceptively simple that more than a hundred years later petite cuisine and molecular gastronomy still can’t beat it? Who wouldn’t eat up that story, even if the details are still suspect? It sure beats calling it the long-lost cousin of Hamburger Helper. 

Finding the truth behind Johnny Marzetti is nearly as tough as finding it on a menu, unless you know where to look and who to ask.

“We usually have it on Mondays. That’s how it’s been for 29 years,” recalled Kathy Pappas, whose husband, Tommy has been dishing Johnny Marzetti at his eponymous westside diner for nearly three decades. “Our specials are ready to go, for people who don’t have much time for lunch. Johnny Marzetti is perfect, so we make enough for about 50 orders and we always run out.”

At Tommy’s Diner, like most places that secretly serve Johnny Marzetti, even though it’s not on the menu, it’s not exactly off the menu either—nor is there just one recipe. Most often macaroni, rotini or bowtie also work just fine. Vegetables include onions, green pepper, and mushrooms. (Though I highly recommend throwing in some zucchini.) Choice of cheese seems to fall into three schools. Cheddar is the most popular, but mozzarella makes a strong showing as well. Tommy’s tops theirs with a generous portion of grated parm. Opinions also vary on whether it goes into the oven for a quick brown and a bubbly finish, or straight to the plate with shreds or just a sprinkle. Whether original or avant-garde, everyone seems to agree it’s not exactly a chili mac or just another name for goulash.

Nancy’s Home Cooking in Clintonville actually does have it on the menu, but only makes the comfort food classic on Tuesdays. Paul’s Fifth Avenue, India Oak Bar and Grill, and German Village Coffee Shop quietly rotate traditional, yet individual, versions through their daily specials. Kolache Republic sometimes stuffs it into their savory pastry to make it more portable, and Columbus newcomer ClusterTruck will even deliver it to your door. None of them have it on the menu. Service Bar in the Short North does, offering an upscale variation for $21. (That’s quite the price hike from the 45 cents Teresa used to charge at the restaurant back in the 1920s—maybe she did, but probably not.)

The genius and longevity of Johnny Marzetti comes from its easy and adaptable recipe. A quick Facebook query in advance of this article unleashed a flood of photos and fond recollections. People actually sent me pictures of their leftover lunch, or a casserole dish fresh from the oven, previous dinner plans scuttled and inspired by the passionate conversation and competing recipes. From grins to groans, even its detractors shared cafeteria cautionary tales and school lunch lore with a smile.

Perhaps the most telling story about the enduring popularity of Johnny Marzetti came by way of a neighbor who revealed her mother regularly makes enormous batches of it for her church, as well as gatherings at the Westgate Recreation Center.

“What’s great about it is that it’s inexpensive. You get a lot for your money, and you can add to it or leave things out,” explained Tasha Corson. “My mom used to put just hamburger in hers, but I add sausage to mine, and sometimes some chiles, to give a little kick to it.” Corson also uses a blend of cheddar and Monterey Jack along with seasonings that lean more Southwest. “The largest batch I make feeds 30 to 40, and I make it in a big stock pot. That way people can put cheese on it if they want to, or not,” she explained. “I’ve made it in the oven too, to melt the cheese. That’s why I like it, because you can really make it your own.”

Corson was actually generous enough to invite me over for dinner, along with my editor and a photographer, eager to share her take on the dish that was part of her childhood, and in turn her children’s, with total strangers. Even if the recipe and mystery surrounding it are still uncertain, the power it has to create lifelong memories and bring people together with a familiar flavor isn’t. Whether it’s served at a lunch counter, a kitchen table, or a potluck dinner, the most important ingredients they all share are creativity and community—and that’s what makes Johnny Marzetti uniquely and unmistakably Columbus. ▩

Johnny on the Spot

These joints still serve up the city’s elusive culinary creation—but days and times vary.

· Tommy’s Diner 914 W Broad St.
· Nancy’s Home Cooking 3133 N High St.
· Paul’s Fifth Avenue 1565 W Fifth Ave.
· India Oak Bar & Grill 590 Oakland Park Ave.
· German Village Coffee Shop 193 Thurman Ave.
· Kolache Republic 730 S High St.
· ClusterTruck 342 E Long St.
· Service Bar 1230 Courtland Ave.

Teresa Marzetti’s Original Recipe
(Maybe, MAybe Not)

· 3 tablespoons olive oil
·  1 large onion, chopped
·  3⁄4 pound mushrooms, cleaned and sliced
· 2 pounds lean ground beef
· 3 1⁄2 cups tomato sauce
· 1 1⁄2 pounds cheddar cheese, shredded
· 1 pound elbow macaroni, cooked and drained

Sauté onion in oil until limp, about 3 minutes.
Add mushrooms and fry until juices are released, about 5 minutes.
Add beef and cook, stirring, breaking up clumps, until no longer red.
Remove from heat and mix in tomato sauce and all but 1 cup of cheese
Transfer to greased 9 x 13-inch baking dish and add macaroni.
Toss gently to mix.
Scatter remaining cheese on top.
Bake, uncovered, in 350-degree oven until browned and bubbling (35 to 40 minutes).
Serves 10 to 12.

A freelance writer for the Chicago Tribune liked this story so much, she practically plagiarized it, right down to the headline and adding “her own” recipe at the end. You can find it here. Compare for yourself.

Chains of Love

Originally published in the Spring 2018 issue of Stock & Barrel


Before Columbus was nationally known for its neighborhood haunts and dinky little dives, we spent decades as an incubator for fast food fads that came, cooked, and conquered.

Not all went on to become household names. Some struggled to fend off their restaurant rivals. Some were unable to adapt to changing tastes and trends. Some simply spread themselves too thin. Inevitably, their franchise empires fell.

Loyal locals have helped a few far-flung outposts of these once thriving Columbus culinary colonies survive long after the clown and the crown conspired to kill anything original about fast food — and four are still just a road trip away.

G.D. Ritzy’s

Despite a deeper menu than its contemporaries, the pop shop nostalgia was perhaps ahead of its time. Their thin, crispy-edged burgers and ice cream parlor vibe are strikingly similar to Steak ‘n Shake, founded in Illinois nearly a half century earlier. But Graydon Webb, a former Wendy’s exec, was all in on the idea of premium sandwiches and sundaes under one roof. For a while, it worked, and not just with unexpected flavors like French Quarter Praline, Amaretto Cherry, and Kentucky Fudge Pecan Pie. People Magazine once declared G.D. Ritzy’s had the best chocolate ice cream in the country.

But the early ‘80s were a fickle cultural concoction for more than just fast food, and a throwback joint that was more Frankie Valli than Flock of Seagulls was a one hit wonder with the kids. Most of the remaining G.D. Ritzy’s locations in Columbus became Rally’s, many still sporting their distinctive tin awnings. But Graydon is giving it another go in Clintonville with a new “Ritzy’s” scheduled to open this spring featuring a lot of ‘50s fare and flare.

If you can’t wait, or just want to see how it all started, the nearest original G.D. Ritzy’s is going strong in Huntington, WV, offering the same menu of signature burgers, well-dressed hotdogs, thin-cut fries, Cincinnati-style chili, and those famous scoops that still have a faithful following. Not far from the campus of Marshall University, the kids finally figured out what their grandparents knew all along, but their parents didn’t — everything really does go better with ice cream. ▩

1335 Hal Greer Boulevard, Huntington, WV 25701

Frostop Drive-In

From American Graffiti to Dazed and Confused, the drive-in restaurant is still a cinematic experience. Though Sonic seemed to reintroduce the concept in recent years, Frostop was one of the first, founded in Springfield, Ohio in the 1920s before moving to Columbus. The checkerboard facade and neon sign define the era, but the giant rotating root beer mug on the roof remains as iconic as any golden arches.

Built around the same soda stand standards G.D. Ritzy’s echoed decades later, Frostop is the real deal. So it should come as no surprise the nearest one is also in Huntington, WV — in fact, about a hundred yards down the road. Teenagers and old-timers still flock there in hot rods and station wagons for footlongs and a frosted mug of sweet suds. Though the retail brand has been revived and expanded to include cream sodas and sarsaparilla, nothing beats grabbing a cold growler to take home from one of their few surviving root beer stands. ▩

1449 Hal Greer Blvd, Huntington, WV 25701

Rax Roast Beef

You wouldn’t expect a western-inspired, meat-themed monopoly to emerge in Ohio — much less two. But on the heels of Arby’s 1964 launch in Boardman, Jack Roschman answered with Jax Roast Beef in 1967. Several mergers later, the Rax brand was born in Columbus. Unlike Arby’s, whose phonetic name is an abbreviation for roast beef (R.B. – get it?), Rax was all over the map opening new locations and trying to find a broader appeal in a crowded fast food field.

They added baked potatoes as an alternative to fries. The salad bar didn’t seem that silly. Even Wendy’s tried that gimmick for a while. Rax also added pizza, pasta, and tacos to it, not unlike Wendy’s short-lived “SuperBar”. Both ideas met a swift and similar fate. But the redhead rebounded, and Rax never did. They refocused on their core menu at the handful that remained, though they never quite escaped the appearance, or actuality, that if you’re going to knock off an idea, you’d better to it better or not at all.

If you still get an occasional hankering for a Mushroom Melt and a little cup of cheese to dip your fries, there are still two (of the remaining eight) fairly close. ▩

800 E Main St, Lancaster, OH 43130
23923 US Route 23 South, Circleville, OH 43113

Arthur Treacher’s

A fish and chips franchise seems more like an import than an export from Ohio, but in 1969, a handful of Columbus investors (including Dave Thomas) took a hint from Bob Hope and recruited British character actor Arthur Treacher to be the face of their new seafood venture. Founded the same year as Long John Silver’s, in equally unlikely Lexington, Kentucky, Arthur Treacher’s was decidedly more London than Robert Louis Stevenson in its aesthetic. In their heyday of the late ‘70s, the restaurant was fast approaching a thousand locations. Today, there are just seven.

Though the three on Long Island are essentially Nathan’s hot dog stands that also sell fish and hush puppies, the four in suburban Cleveland are time capsules of what once was. The Garfield Heights location still has a sign with the actual Arthur Treacher, whose face and fish are even less familiar to millennials than Bob Hope. But if you’re looking for your malt vinegar fix a little closer to home, follow the familiar looking lantern to Marino’s Seafood Fish & Chips in Grandview where the tradition lives on under another name. ▩

926 E. Waterloo Rd, Akron, OH 44306
1833 State Rd, Cuyahoga Falls, OH 44223
2 Youngstown Warren Rd, Pinetree Square, Niles, OH 44223
12585 Rockside Rd, Garfield Heights, OH 44125

Family Jewel

Originally published in the January 2018 issue of (614) Magazine


The line to get in the city’s newest hot spot already stretched down the sidewalk, so I discreetly slipped in the side door. Down some stairs and through the commotion of the kitchen, I was politely ushered into the heart of the restaurant where the owner eagerly waited to greet me with a firm handshake and the best table in the house.

It wasn’t quite the Copacabana scene from Goodfellas, but it was damn close.

Even from across a room, Jeff Ruby is larger than life. With an unmistakable swagger and swirl of smoke, he conducted an orchestra of carpenters and electricians like woodwinds and brass, using his cigar as a baton to maintain the brisk tempo.

Less than a month from opening, his latest signature steakhouse in downtown Columbus was far from finished. It was a symphony of chaos.

“Columbus is a city we’ve had our eyes on for a long time,” said Ruby, whose ominous silhouette and brash persona may seem at odds with the requisites of a restaurateur. He’s more of a midwestern wiseguy. But it’s that stubborn, straight-shooting style that is surely behind his acclaim, not an impediment. “It’s close to our headquarters so we can pay close attention to it. We don’t like to go far from home. That’s when quality suffers.”

Plans to open at Easton were scuttled by Smith & Wollensky, and efforts to move into the empty Morton’s location also fell through. But that closing, and the western migration of Hollywood Casino’s Final Cut left a void for a downtown steakhouse Ruby was ready to fill.

“People from Columbus have been supporting our restaurants in Cincinnati for decades. They’ve been telling us for years to open in Columbus,” Ruby noted. “They don’t come to our restaurants because they’re hungry. They can go to the refrigerator. There is a sense of experience here.”

That “experience,” even in a city like Columbus with a booming restaurant scene, isn’t always enough. Generational and economic trends are conspiring against institutions and cultural rituals that used to define our social interactions. Uber Eats, Door Dash, and a dozen similar services are becoming to the restaurants business what Netflix and Redbox have to movie theaters. Both industries are struggling just to get people off the couch.

The motion picture metaphor doesn’t escape Ruby.

“The restaurant business, in my view, is living theater. Everyday a curtain goes up and you have a new audience. I named my company Jeff Ruby Culinary Entertainment because we’re in the entertainment business,” he said. “When we open a new restaurant, we have a casting call. We audition our employees. Everyone has a role. I tell a story with every restaurant.”

That story certainly didn’t spare any expense in the props department or set dressing either. Even those familiar with the space wouldn’t recognize it. The former 89 Fish & Grill, Michael O’Toole’s Restaurant & Bar, and a Damon’s Grill before that, all seem as sparsely appointed as a college dorm room by comparison.

“Our audience digests the ambiance with every sip of wine and every bite of food,” Ruby chided. “I had an unlimited budget, and I exceeded it.”

A grand statement for certain, but no less grand than the tin ceilings and tufted seats with old wood charm and old world touches on every surface. Walking through the still incomplete dining space, Ruby was eager and easily able to tell the backstory of every fixture and finish. From the stained glass windows to the wall sconces, Ruby’s a bit of an auction enthusiast, with some pieces purchased years ago and squirreled away in a warehouse waiting for just the right spot in the just the right restaurant.

If you want to know when and where the chandelier over your table was procured, the name of the Vermont electrician who rewired it, and the tiny Chicago company that restored the crystal to its original luster, just ask Jeff — he can probably tell you off the top of his head.

Lights may dim as they grow older, but Ruby has not.

For those unfamiliar with Ruby, he’s kind of a big deal. So much so, it’s hard to know exactly how big. He says he’s the first to put a sushi bar in a steakhouse in the 1980s, a point of pride illustrated as he was interrupted to personally decide the exact sequence of the tiles behind the sushi bar in the middle of our conversation. He also claims he coined the term “servers assistants” for busboys as well, now industry standard jargon for fine dining establishments.

Whether or not he used to have the pull to get players traded from the Cincinnati Reds, or is personally responsible for getting the band Survivor played on the radio (both assertions from his autobiography) remains unclear. But in an industry of imitators, there is no denying Ruby is an original without equal.

“Ballplayers, babes, businessmen, barflies, blue bloods, and blue hairs,” is how he described the diverse clientele of his earlier restaurants, where guests wearing blue jeans would pull up in a Rolls Royce because the atmosphere defied the stuffy conventions of other fine dining restaurants. “We dry-aged our own steaks on the premises, other steakhouses dry-aged their waiters.”

Serving French fare, seafood, sushi, and comfort food classics all on the same menu made each restaurant surprisingly approachable. They were never, as Ruby put it, “steak it, or leave it” — they were familiar, but with fanfare.

“Our macaroni and cheese has five imported cheeses, and was named the best mac and cheese in America by Food Network,” Ruby revealed. “We worked five years on the recipe.”

That reputation for unapologetic precision is why thousands of applications were winnowed down to roughly 80 positions at the new Columbus location. Ruby insists on the best steaks and the best staff, with training taking them to Cincinnati to ensure the people are as well prepared as the dishes themselves.

“The culinary staff — the entire staff — is the best we’ve put together in any city where we’ve opened,” Ruby boasted, and he would know. As we toured the various dining rooms, upstairs and downstairs, he called every tradesman and employee by name, though everyone simply addressed him as “Mr. Ruby.” By the time we reached the kitchen, still in the midst of construction, a handful of staff were wrapping up an order of subs for lunch. Ruby joined in and offered to pick up the bill — but made it clear the place better get his order right, or else. He’s still a Jersey boy at heart, never shying away from an Italian sub or a knuckle sandwich.

The timing of the Columbus expansion also offers some serendipity. The aging but active Ruby — or as his family calls him, J.R. — is facing the same challenge as any small family restaurant. That’s why his kids are stepping in while they still have the opportunity to learn from their father and preserve the legacy of the family business.

“I never knew my father,” he explained. “My mother was married four times. I called them my ‘four fathers,’ but none were my biological father. I didn’t know who he was until I was a senior in high school.”

After opening the Waterfront, Ruby made what was likely his most unexpected business move amid overwhelming success: he stopped opening restaurants.

“I wanted to see my kids grow before I saw my company grow,” he said. “I wanted to be a father. I wanted to wait for them to grow up.”

“It’s too bad I don’t have as many brothers as we have restaurants,” laughed Britney Ruby Miller, daughter and now president of Jeff Ruby Culinary Entertainment. Though she admits sometimes their conversations tend to revolve around work, everyone makes extra efforts to ensure they do more than just talk shop. “It’s very easy to get so consumed with work that we forget about what’s most important — our relationships.”

Son Brandon, now corporate director of training has seen this on the menu for years.

“From the time I was able to even recall, I wanted to be a restaurateur like my father. I even wrote it down on a list of questions in first or second grade, but did not spell restaurateur correctly — nor was I close,” he said.

Dillon, the youngest of the three who ended up taking over at the Nashville location after the general manager didn’t work out, is excited to see how something new plays out in Columbus.

“Because we’re opening a steakhouse that is so completely different than what anyone in this town has ever seen before, that’s a huge risk. The fact that we took the risk and see it paying off with all the success we have had in the past year is definitely a pleasant surprise.”

Now, with the Ruby clan all grown up, Jeff got to have his steak and eat it, too. He’s maintained a great relationship with his kids — and now, they’re the core of his team professionally.

“I waited for my kids to grow up before expanding the business,” he said. “Now they aren’t just the reason I want to expand. They are the reason we can expand.” ▩

The new Jeff Ruby Steakhouse is open at 89 E Nationwide Blvd. For more, visit jeffruby.com

Mob on a Mission

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

Kimberly Rottmayer is going to make you an offer you can’t refuse. The photographer by trade is as snappy as her shutter, fierce as her fervor, and undeniable as her freckles. She’s disarming, yet demanding. “No” is not an answer. If you’re a dog, she may just be your best friend — and luckily, she’s not alone.

Rottmayer is part of a clever clique of vocal volunteers at the Franklin County Dog Shelter and Adoption Center, a role that shouldn’t be as controversial as it has become. It was barely a year ago when a distemper outbreak resulted in the euthanizing of nearly a hundred dogs, a heart-wrenching decision that polarized animal advocates and shelter officials. Procedures and protocols have been thoroughly reviewed and revised since then, but those aren’t the only things that have changed.

“Being a volunteer dog walker at the shelter can be a very positive experience, working to help dogs get adopted. But it can be emotionally trying,” admitted Rottmayer. “You also get to know the dogs that have been there for months that may only get one walk a day.”

For perspective, imagine living in a cage or kennel and getting only 20 minutes a day to walk, play, and just be a dog? (Even inmates at a maximum-security prison get an hour in the yard.)

“Over time, you can see the dogs change — become less interactive, less adoptable,” she explained. “After the distemper incident, lots of volunteers quit coming. Those of us who keep coming do it for the dogs. We’re often the only advocates they have.”

Volunteers are tasked with walking dogs to maintain that human connection and mitigate the behaviors that typically come from extended isolation. There’s a class requirement, but students, retirees, flight attendants, and the like who love canines, but maybe don’t have the schedule or time to commit to a dog full-time, fill the ranks.

Then there’s the “Shelter Mafia”.

“It was just a hashtag I came up with to describe the shelter volunteers,” Cindy Renner said modestly. She has been a volunteer for years and witnessed the fall off in dog walkers first-hand. “We have a great group of new and old volunteers who would do anything for our shelter dogs.”

When she says “anything” she means it. Sometimes the only barrier between a dog finding a home and never leaving the shelter is a decent photo. Renner made it her mission to get one particular dog adopted, so she started taking pictures of him—lots of pictures. Denoted with the hashtag #dailysam, the series of snapshots revealed the personality of the pooch in a way a single image couldn’t. It was a hook and a hashtag that stuck.

“It’s so easy to take a picture with your phone, so we all started doing it to promote the dogs on our own social media accounts. Cindy tagged one of hers #sheltermafia and that was it,” Rottmayer recalled. “Now all of the extra things we do for the dogs from enrichment to marketing had a name.”

Among the changes made by the shelter is a new intake process, keeping dogs together that come in on the same day to control exposures, and providing preventive vaccinations. But dogs also go through the system faster now. That sounds good, but it inevitably means dogs that aren’t adopted, go to “rescue” status more quickly, making them less likely to be adopted before they’re put down.

That’s when the Shelter Mafia offers its protection, with a hard social media push of photos, short videos, and persuasive pitches on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and in-person to find foster families to buy each dog a little more time, before it runs out.

Despite the mob mentality, no one is set in their ways. There’s no “Godfather” calling all the shots. “New people bring in a new perspective,” noted Renner.

“It’s not all online. During adoption events, we started printing up old school flyers — you know, like bands do — promoting what makes each dog special,” Rottmayer explained. “We’re the ones who know the dogs, their personalities, whether they get along well with other dogs, or are maybe too rambunctious for small children — traits that are hard to see when someone is only looking at a dog in a cage or kennel that may be reactive, shy, or scared.”

Though there is still some conflict, there is also collaboration. All of those canine candids from the Shelter Mafia are now exchanged with the interns who manage the Franklin County Dog Shelter’s own social media presence, so they too can better promote adoptions. The shelter also started sharing posts from its volunteers, which is quite a turnaround following some unflattering hashtags that emerged in the wake of last year’s tragedy.

Metrics aren’t perfect measurements, but in the past five years, the number of dogs that have been euthanized at the shelter has fallen by roughly 75 percent, from 6,275 in 2011 to 1,617 in 2016. More than 10,000 dogs a year still find their way into the shelter. But that number has been trending down as well — and volunteers are an undeniable part of that, even before the Shelter Mafia emerged to employ its strong-arm, social media tactics.

“There’s probably a more scientific name for it, but we call it deterioration. The longer a dog is at the shelter, the less social they become. So we have to become more social,” Rottmayer noted. “You see it happening, but you also see the difference we can make. That’s what keeps us coming back, what gets us up in the morning, even in the snow. Every day, every picture, every post — we know everything we do helps a dog find a home.” ▩

Interested in adopting a dog, joining the Shelter Mafia, or just taking a walk once in a while with a four-legged friend? Contact the Franklin County Dog Shelter and Adoption Center at franklincountydogs.com or 614-525-DOGS.

Produce to the People

Originally published in the Fall 2017 issue of Stock & Barrel

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

King of Gyros

Originally published in the Spring 2017 issue of Stock & Barrel


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tradish

Originally published in the Spring 2017 issue of Stock & Barrel

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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