Category: Retro (page 5 of 6)

March 15, 2018

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.

March 15, 2018

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

March 15, 2018

Rehab Hell

Originally published in the Spring 2018 issue of 614 HOME

Buy cheap, do-it-yourself, and make more money in a few weeks than you’d otherwise make all year. There are entire networks of flippers and fixer-uppers pushing the premise like televangelists — the new prophets of profit.

Don’t let those episodes that finish everything in an hour fool you. Rehabbing a house isn’t quick, cheap, or easy — it’s slow, expensive, and painful. And yet, we decided to do it anyway.

We weren’t idealistic urban pioneers determined to reclaim a small square of the city. Suburbia had simply lost its allure amid busybodies, constant construction, and a well-heeled school district that suddenly hit the skids and started slashing programs affecting our kids.

After enumerable open houses that never panned out, we kept coming back to the same dilapidated home on a double lot that was clearly vacant, but never for sale. A real estate agent in the neighborhood tracked down the out-of-town owners and found the right person, on the right day, in the right mood to consider a cold offer.

We already knew it needed a lot of work. Here’s what we didn’t know about Rehab Hell:

Everything will cost more and take longer.

Unlike the typical flip, we actually planned to live there — maybe forever. So we didn’t mind spending a little more to make it what we wanted instead of what it was.

But moving a sink and knocking out a wall to connect your kitchen and living room is a lot less complicated on paper than it is once permits and engineers are involved. Add the AC unit, electrical wiring, and copper plumbing that had been pillaged before we bought it and it adds up fast.

What was supposed to be a 12-month rehab is approaching two years, which included months with two mortgages, plus rent and storage. We eventually had to realign the “fix list” to just the minimum number of projects to make the house habitable, then leave the rest for later. It’s a strategy that would have saved both time and money had we started there instead.

Referrals are important, but imperfect.

The place had been home to a fair number of felines during the two years it was empty. We literally bought a cathouse. Every window was broken or wouldn’t open. (Never mind the smell. If there were a fire, everyone would die.)

After combing through lots of online ratings, we selected a local window company we hoped would replace the fire hazard and foul odor with some fresh air. The sales guy was as slick as their receptionist was sweet. But that all changed once they had our money. Months of excuses turned to silence. Calls and emails were ignored. Only after threatening to come to their office and throw a rock through the front window just to see if anyone would show up to fix it did they finally schedule the installation. With the wisdom of hindsight, some of those swelling reviews now seem highly suspect.

It’s okay to be thrifty, just not foolish.

There are actually plenty of repairs the average homeowner can handle with the right tools and YouTube. I don’t mind admitting I’m slow and sloppy at just about every task I’ve taken on, or that I essentially learned to tile floors and shower walls by watching The Vanilla Ice Project.

But sometimes you bring in a pro just to keep your new home from blowing up or burning down. I can sweat pipes and swap light fixtures just fine, but when it comes to breaker boxes and things that go boom, better to be safe than dead.

We asked around and found a quasi-retired electrician to make sense of our mess, and a former plumber who still likes to get his hands wet and runs gas lines on the side. They were both willing to supervise my work or assist for far less than an ordinary contractor.

Always work from the inside out.

Every instinct suggests fixing ugly first, but resist the urge. We started down the wrong road by lining up exterior improvements, when we should have stayed focused on the less sexy projects inside. I should have pulled off the aluminum siding earlier to discover solid cedar underneath before wasting time shopping for new siding only to end up restoring what we had. We should have replaced the water heater and finished the bathroom first, not last.

Fortunately we found a guy who was able to repair and refinish the floors and feather in new wood so well a hummingbird couldn’t tell the difference. But it would have been much easier to tackle the plaster and painting first. Ideally it should have been windows, plaster and paint, then floors. Now we’re doing it in reverse, having to cover up the floors to keep from screwing them up.

Know your neighborhood and your neighbors.

I still joke that I went out for a beer and came back with a house, but that’s not far from the truth. We were already looking for a new place to live. But while writing a story about a group of Westgate homebrewers who get together every few months in someone’s backyard or living room to share and compare, I realized what I’d overlooked entirely in our search — genuine community.

That’s the real reason why after months of frustration with few prospects we decided to make an offer on a rare pre-war ranch, despite its many faults, even though it wasn’t for sale.

Since then, this gathering of former strangers has eagerly offered their tools, time, and talents to make this long-neglected house a home. The guy around the corner is redoing the roof, a dude on the other side of the park helped hang the kitchen cabinets, and those floors were saved by someone from down the block.

This is the most important advice, and probably the only thing we did right from the start. You’re not just buying a house, whether you’re flipping it or moving in. You’re buying a neighborhood and the people who live there are the real investment, and what ultimately determines whether it’s all worth it. ▩

March 1, 2018

Q & A(rnold)

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

Aftermath, 2017. Photo By Brian Douglas/Courtesy Lionsgate Premiere

It’s no surprise action heroes are Hollywood’s single greatest export.

Amid wildfires, mudslides, drought, and rolling blackouts, it’s a wonder the filmmaking capital of the world has survived any better than its on-screen alter ego, regularly ravaged by everything from earthquakes to alien invasions. The cost of living is untenable, the traffic is intolerable, even the most groundbreaking feature film of last year was titled simply Get Out — and like most movies and television series these days, it wasn’t filmed there either.

California has in many ways become the star of its own disaster film. How can you tell? After years of economic malaise and mismanagement, the voters there actually asked Arnold Schwarzenegger to save them, and maybe we in Columbus should too.

This year marks the 30th anniversary of the Arnold Sports Festival, held the first weekend of this month. What started three decades ago as the Arnold Classic, the former bodybuilding championship has ballooned into a four-day health and fitness expo celebrating more than 75 established and obscure sports, from fencing to axe throwing.

But Schwarzenegger’s ties to Central Ohio run much deeper than just a long weekend once a year.

Back in 1970, Worthington Mayor Jim Lorimer invited a 23-year-old Austrian bodybuilder to the World Weightlifting Championship’s new Mr. World competition in Columbus to vie for the title and a cash prize of $500.

Arnold passed. The three-time consecutive winner of the Mr. Universe competition was already scheduled to defend his title in London, but Lorimer wasn’t taking no for an answer. He offered to fly Schwarzenegger back from London to Columbus immediately after the event there so he could compete.

Outside the then close-knit bodybuilding community, Arnold was just some guy who struggled to shop off the rack. That was all about to change. He won both Mr. Universe and Mr. World in the same weekend, a feat that was featured on ABC’s wildly popular Wide World of Sports, introducing him to his largest audience to date.

Schwarzenegger confided in Lorimer his dream of sponsoring his own tournament after he retired from the sport, and a seed was planted. After hosting several successful Mr. Olympia competitions here in the ’70s, and a brief acting hiatus in the early ’80s, Arnold ultimately launched his own competition in Columbus 30 years ago this month.

So what does that have to do with our fledgling film industry? More than you think.

Arnold has become an ambassador for Columbus for more than just sports. His annual health and fitness expo celebrates the city as much as the events and athletes. His own celebrity doesn’t just rub off on us; he’s helped introduce us to new audiences, just like we did for him with that first Mr. World competition.

He could have talked his action hero buddies Sylvester Stallone and Bruce Willis into opening Planet Movies anywhere on Earth, the motion picture rival to Hard Rock Café that coupled a Planet Hollywood restaurant with an upscale movie theater complex. But he chose Easton Town Center, and even though the concept was short-lived, the investment and effort shouldn’t be forgotten.

Action heroes also have a reputation for formulaic personas from one film to the next. Schwarzenegger is the exception, never afraid to try something unexpected or face the critics if an endeavor falls flat.

Yes, he’s been a barbarian, a commando, a spy, a hitman, and a killer cyborg from the future. But he’s also been a kindergarten teacher, Danny DeVito’s genetic better half, and even pregnant. His blockbuster appeal hasn’t stopped him from making fun of his own typecasting or being cast against type. Recent performances in Maggie as the protective father of girl slowly succumbing to a global pandemic that turns victims into zombies, and in Aftermath as an anguished survivor determined to avenge his family’s death from a mid-air collision, show an unexpected range and depth.

As soon as you think you know Arnold, he’s going to do something to prove you wrong.

How did your experience with the Arnold Classic influence the decision to shoot the film Aftermath here? What makes Columbus ideal as an emerging film city?

Columbus is a fantastic place for anything and everything. I’ve spent time in Columbus for 48 years through our bodybuilding championship, that then developed into the world championships in many different sports through our sport and fitness festival. It’s a perfect place that I use as an example, where the private sector and public sector work really well together. They’re very well coordinated. There’s no “we” against “them.” It’s always “us,” and it’s always what is best for the community. It doesn’t matter if it’s Republicans or Democrats in office, they all know they ultimately have to serve in a way to bring more businesses here. I have seen the great growth of the Arnold Classic and how dedicated the city officials are, and also the people at the state level. They’ve helped us every step of the way to make the Arnold Classic Sports and Fitness Festival successful. This is how it became the biggest in the world. This year we have 20,000 participants from 80 different nations. It’s gigantic, and we wouldn’t be able to do it anywhere else than Columbus.

When I did the movie Aftermath, I told the production company when there was a debate about should we go to Atlanta, or New Mexico, or Cleveland, I said to them, “Look, let me explain to you a little about Columbus…”. I told them basically what I told you. It’s an extraordinary place, and that I’ve talked to the mayor many times, the governor many times, and they all said if you come here with a production, we will help you because we want to establish ourselves as a city where you should go to shoot movies. Big movies, small movies, documentaries, whatever you want to do. So I took the risk. I said, “I’m not going to do the movie unless we shoot it in Columbus.” They decided to investigate, to check into it, and this is why after looking around, talking to the film commission, they realized this is a very friendly place where they are opening up their arms to productions. So we shot the movie here and the producers walked away absolutely delighted with one of the best experiences they’ve ever had.

My idea was that this would be the opening, and those production people would go to Hollywood and tell others about it. That’s exactly what happened.

This is why I think it’s a great place. Because people work together, they work tirelessly. People are talented here — the stage crew, the people who build sets — they’re energetic, they’re passionate. This is something you cannot buy. It’s not just tax credits. I made this clear, Columbus maybe doesn’t have the best tax credits, but you will get your money’s worth in many other ways, and it paid off.

Why is it important to take risks in film? Why do actors need to take risks, why do filmmakers need to take risks? Why is it important to get out of your box?

I don’t think there’s a difference from one field to another. One cannot say, why do you need to take risks in movies, why do you need to take risks in the parts that you play, what genre of movies you make? There are people who love to take risks, and there are people who like to play it safe. I think I’ve always been a person who thrives on risk. When I started in bodybuilding back in Austria they said, “You’ll never be a bodybuilder. Austrians are known for soccer and skiing. But bodybuilding? Forget it.” But I took the risk. It’s no different than taking the risk of running for governor. In movies, you have to take risks. Hollywood is a place that loves to put you in a box. You’re the action guy. You’re going to make action movies, and you’re going to do one script after the next — which I did, and that was very successful during the ’80s and ’90s. But there’s a time when I’ve done enough of that, after I’ve satisfied the studios’ needs, to show that I can do other things, that there’s a different Arnold in there than most people know. So I take the risk.

When I did Twins, I said to the studio, I know you don’t want to put much money behind this like an action movie. They said they wanted to make a minimum amount, and I said, “Then, don’t pay me? I’ll take the risk. It’s my first comedy. Why don’t you not pay me or the director or Danny DeVito, and just give us the back end?” We took that risk and it was my most successful movie at that time in my life, and I had a backend of 20 percent.

You couldn’t ever get that deal today. It was all about being able to take that risk.

When you get to be more mature, with age you’re much more believable to play a father in Aftermath or in Maggie, with more acting than action. When you’re younger and an action star, they won’t write material like this for you. They write scenes with great action, but they won’t write scenes with great dialogue and great character building. That’s just the way it is. For me, it was great to take those risks whether it’s Aftermath and Maggie, or Twins and Kindergarten Cop and Junior. I wanted to branch out because there is a side of me that is also like that. So I think taking risks in which parts you take and which productions you choose is absolutely essential.

Typecasting is tough to escape, with studios and with audiences. Is there a role or genre of film that you haven’t done and would like to?

We’re putting together a western. I’ve never really done one, and I’ve always wanted to do a western. It’s being developed with Amazon and it’s going to be eight segments, like a miniseries. It’s a terrific project — very intense, action-packed, great characters. We’ll most likely start shooting next year. It’s being written right now. This year, I’m going to be shooting Terminator in Spain, and Budapest, Hungary. We’re finalizing the script for Triplets, which will be a sequel to Twins with Eddie Murphy as the third twin brother.

The industry and audiences are still divided over the use of computer generated versions of real actors and actresses. As someone who has starred opposite a CGI version of his younger self twice, what’s your opinion on the use and future of computer generated actors?

I want to see movies that are thoroughly entertaining. I don’t look at it as whether it’s computer generated or not. Wise directors like James Cameron who use visual effects will make sure those things he can do in real life, he will shoot in real life. I think if it is well done, it’s okay to use the technology because that’s why it was developed in the first place, to be able to entertain people better. If the script says the Terminator looks exactly the same as he did in 1984, the reality is that my body doesn’t look the same as it did in 1984. So whether you computer generate it, or use someone else’s body, or they enhance your body, or use someone else’s body and put your face on it, depending on what the script says, it may be the only way you can do it. In Conan the Barbarian, I had to fight a giant snake. You could tell that it was mechanically operated, and people didn’t mind because it was the only technology available then. Computer generated technology has a very important part in movie making. I don’t mind it at all if I get enhanced one way or another to look younger — like if my character is supposed to be 50, instead of 70 — any help I can get, I’ll take it.

Speaking of reboots, I’d be remiss not to ask if King Conan rumors are true. Is there another Conan installment we can look forward to with an elder Conan?

That is correct. Those movies were really big hits way back when. It’s a theme in Hollywood, to come back to titles that are well-known. Independent companies take risks with production titles no one has ever heard of or that are new. But studios like recognizable names. That’s why Twins is becoming Triplets, it’s why they’re now writing King Conan, which is why there’s a Terminator 6 — which is all good for me, to keep those franchises alive.

Some parents push their kids into their own profession. Others push them away. The upcoming release of Midnight Sun is your son Patrick’s first starring role. How do you feel about him getting into the family business?

I never discouraged him from going into the movie business. I think it’s a great business to be in. But I also make it clear to all of my kids — no matter which field they get into — they have to be smart with business, and they have to be smart with money. My son is very serious about acting, but he’s also very serious as a businessman. He’s always been entrepreneurial. While I’m proud of him and his work in the movies, I’m also proud of him and his work outside the movies — so that he never ends up being vulnerable. It’s important to have a passion for acting, but it’s also important to be financially independent — not having to sell out and take a role just because they offer good money. He’s really serious about acting, but he’s also really smart about it. I was so proud when I saw his movie, and I think people are going to be surprised by his performance.

As a Midwestern city, Columbus can pretend to be anywhere on film, but many filmmakers don’t realize it. How practical is it to shoot here instead of more familiar film cities?

Columbus has so many different sides to it. When we shot Aftermath, we had no problem finding any backdrops whatsoever. The plane crash site was done a little bit outside of Columbus, we shot in a jail and had free reign over that location. You can find government buildings and high-rises, dangerous looking alleys. If it’s a modern looking shopping mall, there’s Easton Town Center. If you want to find a nice Spielbergian kind of community like you see in many of his movies, you have that in Columbus. You literally have everything that you need. I don’t think there is anything anyone would say you don’t have. If you’re shooting a movie that takes place in New York, I would highly recommend you shoot 95 percent of the movie in Columbus. Five percent of the movie — all of the exteriors, walking on 42nd Street or Broadway, or Central Park or aerial shots of the city — you go to New York to shoot that. But the rest it? You can shoot it all in Columbus. ▩

The 30th annual Arnold Classic will take place March 1 – 4. Aftermath is available for rent on iTunes, Amazon and YouTube.

January 1, 2018

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

November 1, 2017

Deep Dish Dilemma

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wholly Joe’s Chicago Eatery | 1182 E Powell Road

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

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

Meister’s Bar | 1168 Chambers Road

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

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

Yellow Brick Pizza | 892 Oak Street

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

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

September 1, 2017

Open House Show

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

Just one final sound check as fans shuffled in. Even with the rain, parking was tight as a few latecomers found their floor seats. No one seemed to mind. It was an exclusive, one-night-only performance from an up-and-coming band and the venue was perfect.

But this wasn’t a sold-out stadium, posh theater production, or small club gig — it was Kelli and Matt’s living room. This was a house show.

Making it as an indie band on the road isn’t easy, or cheap. It can cost a small fortune to break even. Gas and lodging are given, so the only real gain is the gate. The club circuit used to champion emerging acts. Now many are hardly any better than arenas when it comes to their cut.

Imagine the allure of a tour with no bookers, bouncers, barflies, or bullshit getting in the way. That alternative is house shows — private concerts in the backyards and living rooms of loyal fans who supply the venue and promote the show, often putting up the band overnight.

When Westgate couple Kelli and Matt Blinn decided to open their home to The Rough & Tumble, a Nashville folk duo they barely knew, they weren’t entirely sure what to expect.

“We actually didn’t meet the band until they showed up at our house,” recalled Kelli. “Our mutual friend, who is close with The Rough & Tumble, called in February and said, ‘My friends have this band and they’re doing a house show tour this year. Would you be interested?’.”

Tiny shows are hardly the next new thing. In my youth, my favorite venue was the Birchmere, outside DC in a then tourist-beware section of Alexandria. It was dark and dank. You had to go through the kitchen to get to the bathroom and the whole joint tipped toward a huge floor drain where they presumably washed away the thin film of beer at the end of the night.

But it was acoustically solid in its simplicity, small enough for everyone to sing to the walls. Established acts used it as a warm-up for bigger shows the following evening. Newcomers found new audiences and made enough to make it to the next show down the road. I once saw Taj Mahal play an epic three-hour set there the night before I saw him again at the Warner Theater. Guess which show was better, and cost less than the average cab fare?

The Birchmere still hosts bands, and for a while even weddings and bar mitzvahs. The location and the neighborhood have changed too, as has the whole club circuit. Cover charges are routinely higher than tickets used to be, but the band sees very little of it. Live music used to be the hook; now it’s just the noise. A glorified gastropub with a poorly promoted band in the background is practically as disconnected from the old club scene as many millennials are from terrestrial radio.

That’s why house shows are the next new thing. They connect the band with the audience free from the traditional gatekeepers.

“House shows were something we stepped into almost immediately because of the sense of community they create,” explained Mallory Graham, whose haunting vocals and menagerie of unlikely instruments form half of The Rough & Tumble.

“I think your songs go a lot further than at a bar or coffee shop. There are fewer barriers between you and your audience,” added Scott Tyler, whose voice and guitar complete the group’s traditional, yet contemporary sound.

The two are true troubadours, with a 16-foot camper and a couple of dogs in-tow, their conversation goes back and forth just like their lyrics — catchy and clever, then stirring and soulful, without ever skipping a beat.

“We played our first house show at a friend’s who had previously hosted David Bazan. He was doing this tour where he called out to people and said, ‘I’m done with venues for a while. Does anyone want to open their living room?’ Our friend volunteered. We went and loved it,” recalled Graham. “When we first became a band, we asked if she’d be interested in hosting our first show as well. It was really our debut to our family and friends in Nashville.”

All traveling musicians have cautionary tales. Folk bands just tend to tell them better — like the gig that was straight out of Twin Peaks.

“The moment I saw the missing girl poster I felt a little suspicious,” Graham noted. “Then when the little person and the giant came in? Well, it wasn’t a giant, but a VERY tall person. Then a woman walked in and put a huge log on the bar, and that sealed the deal.”

“It was a hunting lodge about ten miles from the Canadian border in Vermont,” Tyler continued. “We weren’t sure if people were putting us on, or if our buddies knew where we were playing and had hired actors. But it was definitely bizarre.”

There was also that time when a bartender suggested they set up near the pool tables instead of the stage, because the last time an act inadvertently interrupted the nearby card game, the band needed stitches.

“Had we not been double booked with a metal band, I feel like we might have tried to play that gig. After bowing out and dodging a bullet, we became much more intentional about our booking,” Graham admitted. “We gained self-respect that night. That’s more important than a gig at a bar,” Tyler confessed.

The revelation proved pivotal, and house shows became integral to the band’s schedule and strategy. Admittedly, you won’t find many metal bands doing a living room set. Folk music is a genre of personal persuasion, and you can be just as effective playing to one person as an entire room. But that doesn’t diminish the unique opportunities a smaller space affords, or the advent social media makes possible.

“We were playing a show in South Dakota, opening for a band in Brookings. Some people who had seen us there the year before came out and said, ‘Hey, we were expecting you to play longer?’,” recalled Graham. “They asked, ‘If we can rally 20 people, and find you a venue, will you come back and play Monday night? We saw on your schedule that you’re playing in the next town, so there won’t be a lot of travel.’ They really did their research, so we said sure, and it was awesome.”

“After that show, someone contacted us on Facebook, ‘My sister said you played an impromptu show Monday. I live three hours from there, and you’re going to be passing through to get to your next town. Will you come play for us too?’,” Graham explained. “We ended up playing in a town of 400, and 100 people showed up. They were so generous and excited to have music in their town.”

That’s also the genius of house shows, and tours built around them. The Rough & Tumble once played up to 150 gigs and drove 50,000 miles a year. They’ve been able to scale back that grueling schedule because a legion of supporters at every stop made it possible, and profitable. A suggested donation and self-serve selection of CDs and swag are still better than what most bands make in an average night tearing tickets and managing merch. It sounds complicated and calculated, but it’s much more organic.

“Matt and I have hosted a lot of things, and this was probably the easiest — and we’ve never done anything like it,” Kelli explained. “It was kind of like a potluck, but more ‘bring your own everything’. If we were outside, people would have to bring their own seats and blankets. That really took the pressure off of us as hosts.”

“Everyone introduced themselves to each other as they arrived, which for a concert was weird, but refreshingly weird,” Matt noted.

“There’s always the risk of opening your home to strangers, to the band itself or the dozens of people who might show up,” Kelli said. “I was surprised people would show up to someone’s house who they didn’t even know.”

Like many social media communities, The Rough & Tumble’s fans are connected to each other, not just the band. Though technically strangers, they hardly seem like it, or stay that way for long. The weather was a more imminent concern.

“We had this vision for how our backyard was going to look, and we felt like we could accommodate more people more comfortably outdoors. That was the feel we were going for — an outdoor, summer show,” Kelli noted. “Then when it was calling for rain, we worried that people might not come, or we’d have to figure out how to fit them all in our house. But it rained, and people came, which made it a small, wonderful, intimate show once everyone squeezed in.”

Unlike the typical tour where the band quickly disappears backstage or hides out on the bus, this concert ended where most parties do — in the kitchen. Artists and audience swapped stories seamlessly as insights on old songs and inspiration for new ones ebbed and flowed. From the backstory on The Rough & Tumble’s tribute album to 24 obscure and imaginary holidays to the happy accident of writing a song about cicadas in the same key the alien insects sing, any doubts about the unparalleled interaction of a house show were settled.

“Often we will walk into a show and people feel like they already know us, so we get to take three steps further into our lives because the norm of our abnormal life is already out there,” explained Graham. “The lack of a stage allows for a different kind of connection with the audience.” ▩

For more on Rough & Tumble’s perpetual road trip, follow them on Facebook and Instagram

March 15, 2017

Tradish

Originally published in the Spring 2017 issue of Stock & Barrel

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

July 1, 2016

The Night is Young

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

July 1, 2016

Appetite for Adventure

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

Kids are hardwired to try new things. From the day they are born until apprehension and self-doubt browbeat them into social submission, they are really open to anything. They’re growing up in a world that is always on and always connected. Their friends and interests are far more diverse than ours were because they aren’t limited to a few square blocks and whatever adventure they can find before the sun goes down.

As parents, we often fail to feed that willingness to try new things, especially when it comes to new foods. And most restaurants don’t make it any easier on us. Sadly, there is nothing savvy or sophisticated about the average kids menu. Next time, just skip it entirely and try these tips to satisfy your child’s appetite for adventure.

Small Plates and Daily Specials

Da Levee | 765 n High St.
Small plates are the right size and right price to blow off uninspiring kids menus elsewhere. This perennial favorite creole hole in the wall is famous for them. Their rotating lineup and lunch hours at both locations offer endless possibilities. The black bean and corn Maque Choux, Cheesy Craw Etouffee, or hearty Gumbo, each served with a slab of slightly spicy “Magic Bread,” are just $5. Add a side of Andouille sausage, “Kickin’ Chikin” or extra rice for just a little more, or go with a “half-and-half” plate at only $8 for your eager eater.

Tora | 1330 N Hamilton Rd.
Suburban sushi joints may not be an obvious option for kid-friendly fare, but they should be. Tora’s deep and descriptive menu (with helpful English translations) make their Tuesday specials a great half-price pick for your half-pints. Start simple with a Tora California roll of snow crab, cucumber and avocado, then work up to a more daring Black Spider roll, featuring fried soft shell crab, spicy mayo, and black sesame seeds. Even their eel sauce goes down easy. Weekday specials often include Tako Yaki, or batter-fried balls of chopped octopus.

Dine Family Style

Erawan Thai | 3589 Refugee Rd.
Skip the PB&J and try the Chicken Satay, skewered and served with both peanut and cucumber sauces for kids who like to dip their dinner. Erawan excels as an authentic family style dining destination. The menu is impressive, exhaustive, and the portions are huge. Order a mix of appetizers and entrees and enough plates to go around. The Pad Thai is a sweet and spicy serving of fried egg, sprouts, and scallions with wide rice noodles. Pick your meat and enjoy the heat, or cool it down with the Num Tok, or grilled beef salad served over rice.

SuperChefs | 199 E Broad St.
Every kid loves breakfast anytime, and SuperChef’s ups the hero factor with giant-sized, comic book inspired décor to match their oversized menu. There are ample options for over-the-top pancake confections, but don’t let sweet triumph over savory without a fight. Try “The Hulk,” two green waffle sandwiches with eggs, American cheese, sausage, candied bacon, and maple syrup. Or try his evil alternative “The Juggernaut,” two red waffle sandwiches with fried chicken, eggs over medium, and Pepper Jack instead. Both are big enough to share.

Kid Favorites with Adult Attitude

Bono Pizza | 1412 Presidential Dr.
For those who don’t know Bono, they used to operate out of the short end of a Grandview carryout, baking their pizzas in the parking lot. They now occupy a townhouse-turned-restaurant a few blocks away, but offer the same quirky combinations as always. Don’t let the dimly lit diner vibe dissuade you. Stay safe with the San Rolando of pepperoni, crumbled sausage, and mozzarella, or be bold with the Waikiki “Jamie Style,” their regular Hawaiian pie of imported ham and pineapple, plus cinnamon, sliced almonds, and shredded coconut.

El Pollo Perucho | 727 Georgesville Rd.
Forget the chicken nuggets and tired fries. Go for the Pollo a la Brasa, marinated in garlic, cumin, and paprika, then spit-roasted over charcoal until the skin is as crispy as the meat is succulent. Peruvian chicken is ordered by the quarter, half, or you can buy the whole bird. Upgrade your fries to Yuca Fritas, or deep-fried cassava, for something decidedly different. Kick Kool-Aid to the curb and wash it all down with a tall, cold Chicha Morada, a sweet treat made from purple corn and pineapple juice, seasoned with cinnamon and cloves.

Eat with your Hands

Addis Restaurant | 3750 Cleveland Ave.
Channel your own inner child and eat with your hands. Injera is about as kid-friendly as food gets. The spongy buckwheat crepes serve as both a staple and a utensil. “Addis” actually means “new” in Amharic, the official language of Ethiopia—so let the owners know if you’re new too, and they’ll prepare you a platter with a bit of everything. The Mahbarawi, stewed lean beef with onions, peppers, tomatoes, and garlic, or the Doro Tibs, simmered cuts of chicken, might require less lobbying than the legumes, beets, and unique vegetable dishes.

Banana Leaf | 816 Bethel Rd.
Dare to go dumpling at Banana Leaf. Sneak in some green things with Pakoda, dumplings made from a South Indian mix of chickpea flour and fresh veggies, or some Kachori, spicy green pea hush puppies. Samosas sell themselves. What kid doesn’t love little fried triangles stuffed with mashed potatoes? Keep it simple and order something from the Chaats menu, street foods that are sweet, spicy, tangy, and crispy. Once your little one graduates to a fork, consider the Grand Buffet. If your kid really digs it, they even offer cooking classes for grownups. ▩

Johnny on the Spot

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

Small Plates and Daily Specials

Dine Family Style

Kid Favorites with Adult Attitude

Eat with your Hands

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