When Chef Casey Hopkins appeared on my laptop screen via FaceTime, she had just gotten home from a Thursday shift at Longfellow. She was wearing a popular merch item from the bar – a gray sweatshirt emblazoned with a four-eyed, winking red cocktail – and she had her two little dumplings running amok in the background.

Having seen Hopkins’ packed bag ahead of an upcoming trip, her pug, Pierogi, had spent the day sulking. Her mood hadn’t improved. Meanwhile, Momo the French bulldog intermittently popped into the bottom right corner of my screen, seemingly oblivious to Hopkins’ impending departure and just hankering for some attention.

“ I’ve always cooked,” Hopkins said, occasionally patting Momo’s head and minding Pierogi’s grump-fueled antics. “I’ve always loved food. And Longfellow was the first real place that I was a cook, I was a chef, I was in the kitchen. So all of my real culinary experience has been within the walls of Longfellow in the last 8 years.”

Working with people has pretty much been a focal point of any line of work Hopkins has found herself in. As a teenager, her gigs included a face painter at the Cincinnati Zoo, an assistant for studio dance classes, and a camp counselor. Her first restaurant job was at a Chipotle, but even before then, she was no stranger to culinary environments. 

“I  was very close with my neighbors growing up,” Hopkins said. “They had a restaurant on the West Side, so I was always in a restaurant, and I was always at their house, in their kitchen learning how to cook.”

At that point, Hopkins was “just part of the family,” as opposed to staff, looking after the family’s children every night at the restaurant. Over time, she’s worked serving jobs, and picked up some kitchen work during her time at Chicago Gyros and Northside Yacht Club. 

It was during her time at the yacht club that Casey met future Longfellow owner (and recent second-time James Beard nominee) Mike Stankovich. Stankovich opened his nationally-ranked bar in February 2017, with Chef Evan Wallis at the helm of the kitchen. Wanting to involve Wallis in more of the kitchen management side, Stankovich began seeking additional members for the kitchen staff – with a few qualifications in mind. 

“Longfellow’s kind of a unique kitchen in the sense that it’s visible to the public, and a lot of people that work in kitchens don’t wanna have to talk to people,” Stankovich said. “Whenever we’ve had to hire for that position, we’ve had to try to find the right kind of personality that wants to talk to people, but also make food under people watching them. And Casey has that personality and does well at it.”

Hopkins ultimately joined in March 2018. 

“She had a long history of working in bars and restaurants, and just was a good worker, and learned quickly, and was willing to take advice,” Wallis said of Hopkins. 

Longfellow was an all-hands-on-deck operation, with team members picking up different responsibilities to keep the busy bar running. According to Wallis, as he got busier assisting with the bartending side of Longfellow, Hopkins took on more of the food service side.

When Wallis ultimately moved on from Longfellow, Hopkins was selected to take his position. Stankovich cited her preexisting tenure with Longfellow, her culinary ability, and her love for the work as reasons.

“She had to learn some stuff,” Stankovich said. “But any job anyone takes, you have to learn some stuff. So that’s not a deterrent, at least for me, to hire somebody. I’d rather teach someone to do the right thing than have them think they know everything.”

And not three days after transitioning into the position, the COVID-19 pandemic lockdowns began. What followed was a pivot to an all-takeout operation for Longfellow’s loyal base of customers – and a need to churn out a whole lot of egg salad. 

“ We did have a couple regulars in that time who were buying, like, two pints a week of Longfellow egg salad, which is amazing egg salad,” Hopkins remembered with a laugh. “I love the egg salad! But also, who’s eating a quart of egg salad in a week?” 

For any challenges, the trial by fire ended up being an unintentional masterclass for the rising chef.

“When we opened back up inside, however long that was after, it was like, ‘Cool, alright, I know how to work this space, and make it work in a large scale. Now I can refine it,’” Hopkins said. 

Wallis, who now owns College Hill bar Big Chill with his wife, Hannah Wheatley, also saw some serendipity in the circumstances. 

“ I think it was a nice time, because it was a natural time to reset and let her do her own thing, and kind of see how things went from there,” Wallis said.

While she had to learn what Stankovich called the “medial” aspects of operating a kitchen – like getting acquainted with sources for ingredients and ordering them in the right quantity – Stankovich witnessed key growth in her confidence in skills she already possessed. 

“She has whatever it takes to just make food taste good, but I think her kind of realizing that, or accepting that, was a big step,” Stankovich said.

Longfellow’s ever-evolving menu has steady items – the charcuterie board, the Scrap Sandwich, the egg salad (figures) – but Hopkins and her team still get plenty of freedom to conceptualize and experiment. Menu comings-and-goings have been born of trial-and-error, nostalgia and everyday cravings. Case in point: the bestselling mushroom melt. 

“Our mushroom melt just happened one day because I wanted pizza, but I didn’t wanna buy pizza,” Hopkins said. “So I was like, ‘What do we have in here that can make me something that tastes reminiscent of pizza?’ And it worked out perfectly.”

Hopkins categorizes the mixed menu into “plates” and “snacks,” striving to make the latter “elevated comfort food.”

“The snack side in my brain is just like, ‘What are you eating in your cool aunt’s basement when she’s hosting a house party,” Hopkins said. “Like, what is your awesome Aunt Kathy putting out on her table to feed you snack-wise?’”

Enter hanky pankies, a Midwestern staple that Hopkins considers “an homage” to her own (presumably awesome) Great Aunt Jenny. A blend of ground meat, spices, and logs of glorious Velveeta cheese piled on bread, they’re not your everyday printed menu item, but one that catches eyes and elicits joy nonetheless. 

 ”It’s a fun thing to have on the menu,” Hopkins said of this family dish she’s long enjoyed annually on Christmas Eve. “People see them and they get excited.”

Many of Longfellow’s ingredients are sourced locally. Hopkins also taps into resources a stone’s throw (or streetcar ride) away, from Avril Bleh to Findlay Market. And she cultivates a small spice garden right outside the bar near its outdoor seating area. If you opt to sip your signature Shiso Painkiller outside, you might just be sitting near the namesake plant involved in its creation. 

Food is Hopkins’ passion, yet her recipes aren’t something she seems to agonize over. 

“At the end of the day, it’s just food,” Hopkins said. “I mean, ‘It’s just food’ is such an understatement, but it’s gotta be good food. We wanna make good food, and it’s not the end of the world if we gotta change something.”

For any menu leeway, however, there are some challenges literally inherent to the establishment’s architecture. According to Stankovich, due to preservation requirements in the Over-the-Rhine neighborhood, Longfellow wasn’t permitted to install a kitchen hood within the historic building.

As a workaround, Stankovich drew inspiration from his work in the industry in New York City, where chefs built perfectly efficient kitchens without the need to install pricey hoods. Stankovich also explains the pivot was inherent to Longfellow’s design – its character channels that of a Japanese izakaya, casual, sometimes compact bars with kitchens that serve up small plates and bar snacks alongside drinks. And the Longfellow kitchen team has made it all work from the outset. 

“Part of how we developed our menu was what we were able to do,” Wallis said. “And that was something that I think me, Mike, and Casey all enjoyed – having limited resources and still seeing what you were able to do.”

These days, during busy times, Hopkins operates in what she approximates to be a three-foot by two-foot space, not to mention the other bartenders in motion around her (she’ll also bartend, when needed). Hopkins and her team work with an intentional set of tools that includes a hand crank meat slicer, hot plate, toaster oven and steam table.

“ I think it is a testament to that you don’t need a big, fancy kitchen or all the crazy hullabaloo to create good, comforting food,” Hopkins said.

Hopkins and her colleagues, Chef Mike Lizama and Chef Thearvy Long, continue to do their work in full view of patrons – which, while sometimes stressful, isn’t necessarily a negative for Hopkins. 

“ A lot of cooks and a lot of chefs love being behind their closed door,” Hopkins said. “They love the fact that they don’t have to interact. I personally love it, ’cause I’m just a schmoozer. I love talking. I’ve made so many great friends and met so many awesome people by just being at my meat slicer and someone being like, ‘Is that this?’ And me being like, ‘No, it’s actually this.’”

Evidence of these connections can be found in a lineup of tcotchkes near that same meat slicer. What started as a photograph of one of Hopkins’ dogs and a shot glass emblazoned with aliens has grown into a collection of small offerings from patrons. Everything from baby photos to an E.T. figurine keep Hopkins company at her station.

Hopkins said the broader Cincinnati culinary scene Longfellow operates in is robust, yet not necessarily cutthroat. 

 ”We do have this huge booming culinary scene, but nothing feels insanely competitive against each other,” Hopkins said. “Like, we’re all doing it together. We’re all there for one another. If one of our buddies up the street needs an extra bag of towels for the night, guess what? We got you.”

While an establishment of her own someday isn’t totally off the table, Hopkins deems herself “a short term goal girl,” and keeps herself grounded in the present as she considers her future.

“ The goal right now is to just keep ripping, and keep learning, and just keep having fun, because that’s the coolest thing I think about my job is that I have a lot of fun doing it,” Hopkins said. 

“She’s a crucial part of Longfellow,” Stankovich said of Hopkins. “But if she ever needed to move on or grow her career or something, I would support it, too. So I’m supportive of her outside of just her standing in the kitchen.”

For all of the industry experience she’s amassed over time, Hopkins still acknowledges that she never imagined being in her role today. 

“ It is really cool to just be floating around with serving tables, working in random bars. And then now, you know what I do? I’m a chef now, and I run a kitchen side of a bar that’s very successful, because I work with great people, we have great guests, and I have the openness to learn and soak in new skills.”

The post Chef Casey Hopkins turns Longfellow’s kitchen into center stage appeared first on Cincinnati CityBeat.

This story is from our latest print edition. Find a paper near you here.

There’s a frustrated question that seems to cyclically pop up on the r/cincinnati subreddit: What can singles do to meet people? 

Most answers encourage IRL means, from volunteering to contra dancing. But given the question’s repeated nature, it’s fair to observe that folks are finding modern dating challenging. And while it may be a problem for any locale in the digital age, maybe there’s just something about our region that makes it a little harder.  

“ I think it can be really tough for people, especially if you’re from the outside, to break into new circles,” Leslie Deshler, a financial services professional, told CityBeat. “A lot of people grew up here, they come back here, they’re hanging out with their friends that they went to high school with.”

A year ago, following a move back from college, I found myself sailing in that very same singles boat. I wanted nothing to do with the apps, and I found no success with “putting myself out there” at bars and hobby groups.

So, on a different assignment for CityBeat, I offered my single self up to journalism and participated in a Date Cincy event. Date Cincy is one of the more entrenched in-person dating organizations in the region, hosting more than 20 annual mingle events targeted at singles in the 25-40 age range. 

Following the highs and lows of a night of circulating in a bar crowded with singles (and an utter failure of a match), I called in-person mingles a “novelty” in my debrief. It’s 2026, and I’m starting to eat my words.

The Downfall of Swiping

After trying the apps, Deshler, like many other modern singles, was left wanting more from the default method of surfing through profiles. 

“ I don’t think there’s anybody or many people who would say they wouldn’t just rather meet someone organically, right,” Deshler mused. 

Just last December, Deshler founded LinkedUp Live, a mingling event intended for single professionals over 40 in the Greater Cincinnati area. 

“As people start to get older, you find there are less single people in that age group,” Deshler explains, invoking life circumstances like previous marriages. “It might be harder. You don’t just walk into a bar that everybody’s gonna be single in your age range.”

In December, it hosted an event at Aviatra Incubator in Covington, followed by an after party at Second Story. While Deshler hasn’t yet heard specifically of any lasting connections made from this inaugural event, she still sees it as a success.

“ There were lots of interactions,” Deshler said. “I saw a lot of people connecting. It definitely didn’t have an awkward feeling to it. People were just happy to be there, happy to be involved.”

 In an era of increasing frustration with digital facades, Logan Moore, one of Date Cincy’s founders, also sees value in the streamlined nature of in-person connections. 

“ I think when you meet somebody in person, there’s that first connection,” Moore said, “you can kind of vibe out and suss out if there’s a connection.” 

While co-founder Paige Braley thinks that authenticity can be a “buzzword” in the modern dating sphere, she still sees it as an important factor. 

“ When they really do lean into what ‘authenticity’ actually means, I think that people immediately feel the sense of that guard coming down,” Braley said. “They truly do embrace the fact that they can genuinely show up as themselves and know that they are going to resonate with people who resonate with that version of themselves.”

It was a desire for more in-person connections that inspired Kelsey Ference to found Midwestern Lesbian. In her previous role as a member of Rhinegeists’s marketing team, she was tasked with creating weekly calendars for taproom happenings. She soon noticed a gap. 

“ I found myself constantly searching for queer events to attend in my free time,” she said. “And I realized that there was a need for the community to easily find spaces where they can be with other queer people in person, because it’s difficult for queer people to meet each other outside of the internet, whether that’s dating or finding friends.”

Now, she and her partner, Caitlin Dunkley, run the Cincinnati-based organization, which curates “inclusive events and resources for LGBTQ+ individuals across the Midwest.” Midwestern Lesbian maintains a special focus on the sapphic community (while definitions vary, the organization describes “sapphic” as “An umbrella term for women and gender non-conforming individuals, who are attracted to women”).`

Among Queer Line Dancing, book swaps and posing classes, Midwestern Lesbian also hosts “Cuffing Season: A Sapphic Singles Night” and “Sapphic Speed Dating” events. In the latter, participants have 5 minute, prompt-based conversations with around 15-20 people.

 ”We don’t really have a specific lesbian bar in the Cincinnati area,” Ference said. “So we try to create those spaces for our community so sapphic people can meet other sapphic people, and also queer people can meet other queer people in a space that isn’t just a gay bar or a drag show.”

The speed dating format is also distinct for the conversation it inevitably spurs, as opposed to a free-for-all singles mixer.

“ When it’s just a mix-and-mingle kind of event, everybody’s on their own and has to have that bravery to go up to somebody and have a conversation,” Ference said. “Whereas if you’re put down sitting in front of this person, you’re gonna have a conversation with them no matter what.”

And for their mingle-based Sapphic Singles Nights, the organization utilizes Pinyada, an app designed for connecting people outside of the events they attend. Ference describes it as a blend of Eventbrite, Partiful and Hinge. At their last singles event, over 50 matches were made via Pinyada – and, in a context where jitters are completely natural, Pinyada is essentially the connective gift that keeps on giving. 

“If you don’t have the courage or push or the time to talk to somebody that you wanted to talk to, you can connect with them through the app,” Ference said. 

Yet no matter their format, it seems as these in-person singles events grow more popular, they’re also generating different positive results – intentionally or not.

Friend Zones

On the third floor of Igby’s downtown, above the ruckus of singles participating in a dance icebreaker below, I’m seated between Dan and Izzy. 

Throughout the span of our interview, they politely reach over me to fist bump a total of three times. These two are essentially each other’s wingmen, who just so happened to meet at a Date Cincy event a little over a year ago. They’ve frequently attended together since (Dan guesses he’s been to about 20). 

“ I’ve actually met more guy friends than I have dating opportunities through these events,” Izzy tells me.

“Kind of ironic, but so cool, though,” Dan adds. 

Earlier in the evening, I talked with Moore and Braley. While Date Cincy aims to help singles “meet their person IN PERSON,” over the past year, the pair have observed the simultaneous side growth of a new community.

“The primary reason to be here is to find that special someone, hopefully get engaged, get married, whatever you wanna do with your life,” Braley said. “But we also are finding that a lot of people are just coming here for community in general – a consistent social place to go out.”

Meanwhile, LinkedUp Live intentionally facilitates matches that go beyond the romantic; Deshler sees the event as a place for people to also make new friends or business connections (at her December event, she had a table for participants to include their business cards, and the recommended dress code was business casual). 

 ”We all know that the bigger your network is, the more it leads to opportunities,” Deshler said, deeming LinkedUp Live a “forum” for folks who may be looking for a new flame, new job, new friend – or all three. 

“ It’s really about just expanding your network, connecting with like-minded singles, and then allowing doors to open as a result,” Deshler said. 

Midwestern Lesbian has additionally hosted the frequently sold out “Queer Speed Friending Nights” for the LGBTQ+ community. Ference also points out that during Sapphic Speed Dating,  even if participants aren’t feeling a romantic spark, they still have the option to indicate an interest in being friends with the person across from them. 

“  It’s just about meeting somebody that’s within your community in a natural way,” Ference said. 

The Present Future of Dating

All three organizations plan on continuing their in-person-focused events in the year ahead, although some with a new emphasis on hands-on activities.

LinkUp Live is still finding its footing as a newcomer to the rising in-person matching scene, but in 2026, Deshler envisions events structured around wine tastings, Saturday morning coffee, and hikes. 

Date Cincy, which has historically utilized icebreaker activities and conversation cards, is also hosting more activities-based mingles this year to help spur interactions. Upcoming events include duckpin bowling at Pins Mechanical Co., darts at Flight Club, and an “adult field day” at The Fieldhouse in Covington.

“ It’s just that mutual thing to be doing together to make conversation a little bit easier,” Braley explains.

Midwestern Lesbian plans on continuing to refine its roster of single-focused events, including Sapphic Speed Dating for individuals over 40. While their main focus is on the sapphic community, in 2026, they’re looking at hosting singles events for the queer male and trans communities. 

Despite varying event formats and target audiences, the in-person scene seems to be generating results. Ference and Dunkley have heard from numerous couples who met at Midwestern Lesbian events and ultimately gotten married. In 2025, Date Cincy saw 6 couples get engaged and 3 tie the knot (that they know of). 

But Moore also points out that Cincinnati area singles still successfully connect online. We all likely know at least one pair of high school sweethearts (especially in this town), and none of this is to say that spontaneous meetings at Cincinnati’s many local bars, parks, and more aren’t impossible. While tailored IRL methods may be on the rise, other means aren’t completely on the way out. 

Despite being a consistent Date Cincy attendee, Izzy still uses Hinge. There’s a strategy there – he views apps as a “supplement” in a world where the dating landscape continues to evolve on both the in-person and digital fronts. In-person mingles are, ultimately, a modern masterclass in putting yourself out there.

 ”The more I come to these things, the better and more comfortable I get at talking with people,” Izzy says.

Dan observes that times have changed, necessitating new approaches to finding the one.

 ”In our society today, especially post-COVID, we’re out of practice in talking to people, and also the rules of dating, per se, have kind of been thrown out the window,” Dan says.

Last winter, I personally found myself impressed by DateCincy – still a relatively young organization at the time – and its place at the forefront of what I once considered a newfangled way of meeting other singles in the city. But ultimately, I didn’t need to pick up a new hobby, download an app, or resort to performative reading at one of our city’s many fine coffee shops. Nor did I need to keep mingling. A few months following the event, a friend unexpectedly asked me out to cocktails at Sundry and Vice. Nine months, and many wonderful Cincinnati dates later, we’re still going strong. 

So it could be an algorithm. It could be a meet cute. It could be a melon in your shopping cart at the Hyde Park Kroger signaling you’re in the market for more than fresh produce, according to (debunked) local lore. But, sometimes, maybe this whole modern dating enigma boils down to being at the right place at the right time. And in the Cincinnati area, it seems like there’s an ever-growing list of those right places for singles to be. 

The post Singlennati: How Queen City singles are putting themselves out there appeared first on Cincinnati CityBeat.

Emily Agricola Holtrop didn’t grow up a MAD reader, but the Cincinnati Art Museum’s director of learning & interpretation doesn’t view that as a prerequisite for getting something out of the institution’s latest exhibition.

On view at CAM through March 1, What, Me Worry? The Art and Humor of MAD Magazine dives into the decades-long history and impact of the iconic satirical magazine and explores the multilayered artistry behind it. 

“If you like cartoons, if you like comics, if you like illustration, if you’re open-minded, if you like satire… if you like humor, I think you’re gonna get something out of it,” Holtrop says.

MAD Magazine — still in publication today — got its start as a comic book in 1952. In the seven decades since its founding, the humor magazine has become iconic for its illustration-based parodies, spoofs and pointed satire. With a team known to this day as the “Usual Gang of Idiots,” MAD Magazine has churned out iconic imagery likely recognizable to readers and non-readers alike.

The exhibition originates from the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Massachusetts. What, Me Worry? was curated by the museum’s chief curator and Rockwell Center Director Stephanie Haboush Plunkett and satirical illustrator and caricaturist Steve Brodner. It found its way from New England to the Midwest following a visit by CAM Director Cameron Kitchin, who was impressed by the exhibition. 

Holtrop, the onsite curator and project lead for What, Me Worry?, oversaw exhibition set-up and implementation at CAM. 

“As a museum educator, my role at the museum is to tell stories and to bring out the stories the art tells,” Holtrop says. “The works in this exhibition tell so many interesting stories, not only about the history of MAD, but also the major historical moments and cultural movements and social movements that have happened in the last 70 years since MAD has been around.”

In those seven decades, MAD has evolved from a rebellious comic to one of the most recognizable publications to spread critical commentary through humor. What, Me Worry? will include original work from a variety of MAD artists, with a particular focus on the ways in which the magazine tackled the times it found itself in in singular MAD fashion.

Holtrop stresses the opportunity that lies within the inherent “multi-generational” character of the exhibition. Given the long tenure of MAD Magazine, Holtrop envisions grandparents and grandchildren taking in the exhibition in tandem with each other. 

The exhibition also explores the tangible, collaborative artistic processes behind magazine and comic production – the development of an “idea from concept to completion,” in the words of Holtrop. She points to the process drawings and mark-up lines visible in many of the paper artifacts on display. 

Among the over 150 pieces in the exhibition, a highlight is a spoof of Norman Rockwell’s “Triple Self-Portrait” by Richard Williams placed alongside Rockwell original, a clear nod to this exhibition’s institution of origin. Among other artifacts, visitors can also witness the evolution of MAD Magazine mascot, Alfred E. Neuman, over time, and try their hand at creating their own MAD cover.

And there’s more to take in beyond technical precision within the work on display. Holtrop emphasizes the need to pause and consider punchlines that aren’t always immediately apparent in some of the tongue-in-cheek pieces – there’s much to be found in the details, making this exhibition almost inherently interactive.

“You really have to read and stop and look because there’s a lot of, like, delayed laughter.”

While satirical illustration may not be the first discipline that comes to mind when thinking of the notion of “art,” Holtrop stresses the complex nature of the genre, including caricature.

“To be able to capture someone’s likeness, and in a manner so that you still know what that person looks like, but it’s still somewhat of a caricature – that’s artistry.”

She also draws parallels to major art movements of yesteryear. Holtrop compares the collaborative process between MAD artists and writers to the processes of “the great Dutch masters” and their apprentices. It’s also a discipline that Holtrop thinks audiences will find especially approachable in a museum that’s already meant for them.

“ The museum is the community’s art museum, so it is really our responsibility to show all kinds of art, not just fine art. And illustration is something that so many people are really familiar with, and it is a really good way to get people excited about coming to the museum.”

What, Me Worry? The Art and Humor of MAD Magazine will be on display at the Cincinnati Art Museum through March 1. More info: cincinnatiartmuseum.org.

This story is featured in CityBeat’s Jan. 7 print edition.

The post Cincinnati Art Museum Exhibit Explores the Artistry of Iconic Satire Publication MAD Magazine appeared first on Cincinnati CityBeat.

As relationships progress, you inevitably discover new things about your significant other. Well, before October rolled around, not only did I become acquainted with my boyfriend’s love for haunted houses, but I learned that this year, he’d be making me visit one.

I enjoy a good horror film, and I’m a dark ride fanatic, but I’ve shied away from haunted houses. For me, they cross into more vulnerable territory — I can’t press fast forward, nor am I confined to the safety of a Doom Buggy.

But having no say in the matter, I persuade my boyfriend to take a pre-visit, lights-on tour of one of his favorites (and one I’m well-acquainted with as a born-and-raised West Sider): The Dent Schoolhouse. And the staff is gracious enough to give us a private visit. 

Lights on

Terry Rook, who has worked at the Dent Schoolhouse for a quarter of a century, greets us near the outdoor queue area. Rook gives us a brief history of the nationally ranked site. Dent was a real schoolhouse, built in 1894, and was also a machine shop and private residence throughout its existence. 

We start off by touring a staff reception area, stuffed costume closet and makeup room on the building’s upper floor; a whiteboard lists the dozens of staff members’ positions for the night, and the makeup room is filled with retired masks and all the tools you could ever want for making fake wounds. Near the manager’s office, I spot racks of out-of-circulation haunted house-focused magazines they’ve used for inspiration. 

Rook then takes us scene-to-scene, showing us the behind-the-scenes of the scares that the attraction’s varied environments and 60-70 actors help facilitate: piped-in smells, painstaking attention to world-building details, compressed air-powered jumpscares, a handful of Easter eggs (I’m not revealing anything). He also shows us sets of interconnected hallways that can take actors between scenes or hide them for scares via seemingly innocuous holes in the walls. Something that caught my eye? Harnesses (four total!) for actors who deliver their scares from above.

He also dives into some scare methodology, much of which is designed to totally disorient guests. I was especially fascinated by intentional shifts from brightly lit spaces to dark ones, leaving no time for your eyes to adjust. Rook also points out that different thematic elements, from gore to clowns to evil teachers, will have varying degrees of scariness for guests.

 “We run the buffet,” he says. 

I notice that I’m already on edge; Rook assures me there’ll be no scares on the tour (although he does take the opportunity to jump scare me when I lean in to observe the details on a hanging dummy — well played), yet I’m still peering around every corner.

“I’m embarrassing myself,” I whisper to my boyfriend.

“You are,” he teases, audibly.

Legend holds that school custodian Charlie McFree was responsible for a series of student disappearances throughout the ‘40s and ‘50s (whether this legend is total fiction is somewhat inconclusive, according to Rook, who has done his own research). You find out what happened to these children on your visit — I walked through scenes liable to make me queasy just thinking about them.

Before we conclude, as speakers come to life with spooky ambiance ahead of Dent’s opening for the night, I ask Rook what advice he’d give to (very) wary folks like me. 

 “Know where you’re going,” Rook says. “This is one of the safest haunts in the nation, and we’re a no-touch haunt. So if you’re very on edge, know that you’re safe.”

Lights off

An hour before we’re scheduled to experience Dent for real, I’m picking at my Ron’s Roost. I’m terrified. My boyfriend, while reassuring from the get-go, also says it’s not too late to turn back.

About three hours later, after standing in Dent’s infamously long line, there is no turning back. There were totally unphased 8-year-olds in line; I’m sure I can handle it.

And I do handle it. Loudly. To the couple walking behind us, I’m sorry.

I screamed in a way (and pitch) I didn’t recognize. While I tried to make a mental tally of the jumpscares during the tour, I still got got. I knew what to expect in some places, but with the lights off, and new sounds and smells added to the mix, it was a whole different playing field. 

But I also discovered a new type of exhilaration. My glass-shattering screams were more often than not followed by my own cackles (and my boyfriend’s). I went from being totally freaked out to instantaneously remembering it’s all fake. And I think some actors had just as much fun — a few vocally encouraged me to scream louder. I delivered.

My much more stoic boyfriend had a blast too, as we alternated forcing each other to go first into each room (I usually won out).

My boyfriend thinks that I wouldn’t have made it through without the tour, and I can’t say I disagree. With this being my first experience, I was very lucky. I had a spectacular tour guide, a talented team ensuring I was scared and someone beside me to make sure I didn’t get too freaked out.

And so my own advice? Take the lights-on tour, if you can. Know your limits, but don’t be afraid to push them. And, if you’re lucky enough, go with someone who’ll let you bury your face in their WEBN t-shirt as you conquer your fears, room by room and hand-in-hand.

The Dent Schoolhouse, 5963 Harrison Ave., Dent. More info: dentschoolhouse.com.

This story is featured in CityBeat’s Oct. 15 print edition.

The post Baby’s First Haunt: Facing the Lights-On and Lights-Off Sides of the Dent Schoolhouse appeared first on Cincinnati CityBeat.

FotoFocus makes it a point to look at Cincinnati — and the world at large — through different lenses. On Oct. 4, the organization will host its all-day Fall Symposium, Photo-Economics, at Lightborne Studios. 

FotoFocus’ symposiums occur during the off years of its trademark biennial. These events convene experts spanning a variety of disciplines and backgrounds to explore a given topic and its place in the broader sphere of lens-based arts. This year’s iteration will center on the industrial history of photography, and the role photography plays “in the shaping of social narratives.”

“Every Biennial theme, every Symposium theme is very much about photography, but it’s also about something that’s very current in the world,” FotoFocus Artistic Director and Curator Kevin Moore explains.

According to Moore, Photo-Economics explores the broader topic of resources via two themes: material economics and social economics. The former denotes the physical materials used in the practice and creation of photography, from silver to materials found in modern smartphones, while the latter constitutes the actual documentation of resource extraction and its human repercussions across time.

The material economics portion of the event will take place during the morning session, and the social economics portion will take place in the afternoon.

 ”In the morning session, they’re teaching people kind of to think about, you know — we take photography, like so many things, we take it for granted,” Moore says. “You don’t really think about what it’s made of? Where does that come from? Who produces it?”

“In the afternoon, there’ll be a very interesting series of conversations about people’s lives in relation to these phenomena.”

FotoFocus was founded in 2010 with a mission “to present and support photography and lens-based projects that are accessible, enriching and engaging to a diverse public.” FotoFocus may remain fresh in Cincinnatians’ minds for its 2024 backstories Biennial, and it’s this and other events that Moore sees as carrying on founder Tom Schiff’s endeavor to “create a democratic idea of photography programs around town.”

“We have the Biennial, which is a kind of very democratic festival of photography,” Moore says. “We fund lots of people and support them to do art projects. But then we also — I feel like I’m also kind of in the tower, in the sense that we bring very high-level artists and exhibitions to Cincinnati too. So I like to think of it as very kind of like boots on the ground, but also, like, beacon in the sky.”

“We have this structure that sort of transmits between very high-level kind of international things, but also supports very local artists and institutions.”

Indeed, this year’s Symposium will bring in experts representing Princeton University, the Milwaukee Art Museum, the Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego and more. Speakers and panelists include professors, museum professionals, photographers and researchers. 

For example, in the morning, Los Angeles-based artist Lauren Bon will discuss her involvement in a project that explores mines from which silver used in Kodak photo paper was sourced. A conversation between Museum of Modern Art photography conservator Lee Ann Daffner and photographer Alison Rossiter will focus on all things paper.

In the post-lunch hours, attendees can hear critic and researcher Danielle Jackson, who is currently based in the Bronx, New York, speak about her current focus on the ramifications of the oil boom in ‘70s Tulsa, Oklahoma. Arizona State University Professor Benjamin Young will moderate a panel on key photography scholar Allan Sekula, and photographer Katy Grannan will give a talk on some of her work from California. 

Following a keynote conversation between photographer Mitch Epstein and New York University Professor Robert Slifkin, the Symposium will culminate with an evening reception featuring music by the Red Cedars, made up of Patrick Kennedy and Dinah Devoto, both Kentucky natives. According to Moore, this performance also ties into event themes — the duo’s “Mountain That Eats Men” is a song about mining. 

Moore stresses that the event, which is free to attend at any point throughout the day, is meant for everyone. He encourages the featured experts to approach their presentations like “a dinner party” instead of an academic lecture. 

“This is a place where I’ve been able to kind of cultivate this culture of people thinking about history and the world we live in an unintimidating and hopefully entertaining or pleasurable way,” Moore says. 

Moore likewise emphasizes that contemporary relevance is a key component of the experiences he and FotoFocus curate, regardless of the precise subject matter or its historical context.

“ I’m hoping that throughout the day, the audience will feel like they have a history lesson, but a tool set, for thinking about the world we’re in now.”

The FotoFocus Photo-Economics Symposium takes place at Lightborne Studios on Oct. 4 at 9 a.m. More info: fotofocus.org.

This story is featured in CityBeat’s Sept. 17 print edition.

The post FotoFocus to Offer Snapshots of Material and Social Economics at 2025 Fall Symposium appeared first on Cincinnati CityBeat.

In the week leading up to “The Brotherhood of Rock” tour stop at Riverbend on Aug. 19, I gave many folks pause at my rudimentary knowledge of The Eagles, REO Speedwagon and Styx. I’m not an expert, but nor am I your everyday 20-something who wears t-shirts without having listened to a single note of the 1970s bands on them. I grew up listening to 103.5 WGRR, and frankly, my taste never really changed.

So, given the opportunity to experience these groups – in partial or full lineups  – I wondered: how would the experience at Riverbend on a stormy Cincinnati evening compare to all those drives through the cornfield-spotted terrain of Harrison in the family car, radio on full blast?

Before I even entered Riverbend, the security guard enthusiastically told me about the wonderful soundcheck she caught wind of. Even before the show, the enthusiasm in the venue was palpable. By my empirical observations, I was one of the youngest folks there, although I did see a handful of kids and teenagers. 

The evening opened up with Don Felder, former lead guitarist of The Eagles. Felder counted off hit after Eagles hit, including “Already Gone,” “Take It Easy,” “Heartache Tonight” and “Life In the Fast Lane.” While Felder mainly focused on the most recognizable of The Eagles’ repertoire, he also played his new single, “Hollywood Victim.” Perhaps unsurprisingly, for his finale, Felder donned a double-neck guitar for “Hotel California,” with stock footage of scantily-clad women and imagery from the band’s most famous years playing in the background. Even more unsurprisingly, nearly all in attendance began to sing along.

The Kevin Cronin Band, with the namesake REO Speedwagon frontman at the helm, followed. Alongside Cronin were Dave Amato on lead guitar and vocals, Bryan Hitt on drums, Derek Hilland on keyboard and Matt Bissonette on bass. The group performed the entirety of REO Speedwagon’s 1980 studio album, Hi Fidelity. I naturally recognized “Keep On Loving You,” “Take It On the Run” and “Can’t Fight This Feeling.” While I wasn’t truthfully all that familiar with the rest of the album, I did enjoy observing the enthusiasm of folks around me jumping out of their seats and waving their arms, clearly recognizing some of their favorite hits. I was particularly impressed by Hilland’s virtuosity and energy on keyboard throughout the set, a zeal mirrored by the rest of the group.

Finally, Styx took the stage to perform the entirety of the 1977 Grand Illusion album. Although they doubtlessly brought a parallel enthusiasm on stage with them, Felder and the Kevin Cronin Band took on a much more straightforward, rock and roll palette and mood in terms of presentation. In stark contrast, from the get-go, Styx rendered the stage a technicolor candy store, with sequined jackets, cotton candy-colored fog machines and a video of neon paint splatters and chandeliers – a literal dessert to the evening’s lineup. I was personally here for it. 

The combined musicianship of James “JY” Young, Tommy Shaw, Chuck Panozzo, Todd Sucherman, Lawrence Gowan, Will Evankovich and Terry Gowan made for a grand finale with palpable zeal. Naturally, the crowd (and myself) went wild for “Come Sail Away.” Once again, however, I found myself unfamiliar with much of the lineup, although their performance of “Miss America” (which I never heard on 103.5) and simultaneous pop art-esque video behind them ended up being one of my favorites of the set. 

What followed was a medley of album-spanning hits, including “Too Much Time on My Hands” and “Lady.” It was during their performance of the former that I learned their set was being taped for a New Year’s special (all the pizzazz suddenly began making sense). To wrap things up, Styx unsurprisingly finished with the cult classics “Mr. Roboto” and “Renegade” – perhaps a little predictable, but certainly not unwelcome. 

The nearly four-hour experience had all the trappings of a Riverbend nostalgia trip – tall boys in nearly every hand, performers encouraging the audience to finish lyrics, quips about beanbag chairs and memories of the 1970s through hazy clouds of smoke.

“Here’s a song from 1975. That was a long time ago,” Felder said as the lead-in to “One of These Nights.”

Numerous songs featured photos, press clippings and archival footage from each respective group’s heyday, and Styx utilized contemporary video footage of a teen placing the needle on their copy of The Grand Illusion.

And yes, ultimately, “The Brotherhood of Rock” tour managed to evoke all levels of nostalgia, whether the music was something you recognized from your high school days or from evening drives in your not-so-distant formative years.  

But I really hate to lean into the whole nostalgia angle, because A) I find it an annoying generalization for shows of this nature, and B) I think there’s more than memory here. A show of this nature is so hard to review. No one in the audience comes to critique or analyze, nor do they attend exclusively for the walks down memory lane. We all know that groups like The Eagles, REO Speedwagon and Styx – although their current lineups may have evolved – are great. Their legend and ubiquity (and continued appearances on t-shirts by major retailers) remain proof. All of us there knew we were getting into something good.

So what do you do at a show where the musicians have nothing to prove? You just enjoy. And whether it was memory-driven, or just fueled by a love for iconic music, the enjoyment proved nearly universal that evening — myself most definitely included.

The post Not Just Nostalgia: Styx, Kevin Cronin and Don Felder Still Bring the Fire appeared first on Cincinnati CityBeat.

While I have no stats to back it up, there’s something about tiki glasses that just makes drinks taste better.

When I found out that the team behind Onolicious was opening 10th Island Tiki Bar and Grill right next to Ziegler Pool, my interest was instantly piqued. A deep, dark part of me gets weak in the knees for mini cocktail umbrellas. I needed to see this establishment billing itself as a mini island escape for myself.

It’s a sluggish, post-Fourth of July weekend Monday, with storms on the horizon and no forthcoming vacation days marked on my calendar. I decided to treat myself to a getaway. Maybe with a tiki drink in my system, the holiday doesn’t have to be over.

When I walk in, I’m greeted with the promised island theme. The space is filled with netting, floral curtains and lanterns. The ukulele-heavy playlist is complemented by the sounds of kiddos splashing and lifeguard whistles in the pool right outside.

At my table, I’m prompted to order via QR code. Scrolling through the menu, I have to individually click on each food or drink item in order to see exactly what it is. With a pretty robust drink menu — my tiki drink fervor that made me want to look at everything  — I find it a little annoying to have to keep toggling between menu options on my phone. 

What’s more, the online platform has a message stating that QR code ordering isn’t currently available at the time, despite signs posted around the restaurant saying otherwise. However, the bartender/server doesn’t leave me hanging, and as soon as I let them know, they promptly take care of my order and check in consistently throughout my visit.

I opt for a Painkiller ($13), one of my favorite cocktails that just so happens to come in a tiki glass (plus it’s a Monday, so there is much pain to kill). And not only does it arrive in a tiki glass – it also comes topped off with a small umbrella (swoon). I love the cocktail’s housemade coconut cream, yet it manages to lean more into the citrusy side with the pineapple and orange juice, which I gladly welcome.

For starters, I opt for the Wahine Salad ($8) (the ciabatta croutons caught my eye) and Kahalu’u Calamari ($14). The salad is pretty straightforward content-wise, but the miso sesame vinaigrette actually ended up sort of stealing my heart. It has a subtle miso flavor with the slightest kick. I also love the extra bite from the salad’s sweet chili cucumber slices. 

While the calamari came out lukewarm, I love the light, airy mochiko flour batter – and the little mound of fried sesame noodles that accompany the dish. The calamari comes tossed in a delicious “secret sauce” that I’d be very interested in learning more about. But the bowl of strong garlic sauce it’s served with sort of neutralizes all of the flavors of the calamari, and I prefer it without it.

As I perused the menu for entrees, I noted vegetarian alternatives for the Kanaka BBQ Burger and the Local Guido sandwich, as well as a la carte meats. I went for the Kahuku Shrimp Sando ($19 for a full sandwich and side of fries), a hearty merging of mochiko flour-battered shrimp, garlic butter, smoked gouda, miso sesame slaw and sriracha mayo on a Sixteen Bricks ciabatta bun. 

I think my jaw drops slightly when I’m brought the massive sandwich, whose fresh bread is soaking up the small pool of garlic butter forming on the plate. To make a little room on the platter, I start by nibbling at the house fries and spicy ketchup — both delicious. 

The flavor combination of the sandwich is excellent — a little smokiness from the cheese, a little bite from the slaw, a little kick from the mayo. While the shrimp could have used a little more seasoning love, the delicious mochiko flour helps the sandwich steer clear of being too heavy.

Though thoroughly stuffed to the gills, tiki drink drained, and starting to undergo the drowsy effects of having consumed so much butter, I’m somehow still feeling up to demolishing a shaved ice. Based on the bartender’s recommendation, I get half-mango syrup, half-strawberry syrup topped with a “snow cap” (ie, drizzled with condensed milk) ($7).

Maybe it’s illogical to get more fatty foods when I’m already full with all that glorious butter, but the die has been cast, and my shaved ice is melting. I dig in, and the first thing I notice is how “real” the syrup tastes. The strawberry syrup, in particular, is a deep, blood red instead of the ubiquitous stoplight color you see in your average snow cone, and it isn’t sickly sweet — it’s a great, refreshing ending to the meal, made just a little richer with the creamy condensed milk.

Had it not been a Monday, I definitely would have opted for more tiki drinks, and before the summer ends, I can see myself coming back to 10th Island to try a few others that caught my eye (tiki glass-based or otherwise). 

Is it a true getaway? Not necessarily — while it has thematic decor and a curated menu, you won’t forget the city waiting right outside the door. But 10th Island is something new and different from the more pub grub-y offerings on the streets adjacent, and it owns its theme. Perhaps that’s a getaway enough in these Cincinnati summer months. 

10th Island Tiki Bar and Grill, 213 Woodward St., Over-the-Rhine. More info: 10thislandtiki.com.

This story is featured in CityBeat’s July 23 print edition.

The post [REVIEW] Mini Umbrellas and Island Energy: 10th Island Tiki Bar Brings Tropical Escapism to Over-the-Rhine appeared first on Cincinnati CityBeat.

It takes a lot of people to keep Cincinnati — and all of its vibrant scenes — running smoothly. In each installment of Queen City Clock-In, we’ll take a look at a day in the life of the people who help the Queen City thrive.

Meet Shae Burns, Manager of Wild Encounters at the Cincinnati Zoo & Botanical Garden. On June 20, CityBeat shadowed Burns as she went about some of her day-to-day responsibilities at this iconic Cincinnati attraction. 

7:15 a.m. – Shae Burns and her husband hit the road from Miamisburg. 

8:15 a.m. – Upon arriving at her office, Burns checks her voicemail and the Encounters & Chats schedule for the day ahead — a vibrantly multicolored spreadsheet matching her team members to certain animals and spaces in the zoo. Burns oversees a team of approximately 25-30 staff members and 15 volunteers.

During this time, Burns determines any needed adjustments to the schedule, possibly accounting for staff members who might have called in sick or animals who aren’t in a position to leave their habitat that day.

8:30 a.m. – Burns’ team convenes and touches base about the day ahead. The team is informed of any special considerations, such as path closures, and picks up the gear they need, from hand sanitizer to keys.

Today’s a particularly special day. The annual Zoo La La event is happening later this evening, and Burns and her team will be facilitating animal encounters at one of the zoo’s biggest fundraisers. 

8:50 a.m. – Burns’ team begins opening some zoo exhibitions, including Roo Valley. In the mornings, Burns will sometimes do animal-focused interviews with local news outlets. 

10:15 a.m. – In an employees-only space, Burns opens up a fridge and begins divvying up romaine lettuce for the giraffe feeding happening right outside. This lettuce is hydroponically grown on zoo grounds, where Burns’ husband works. The giraffe feeding begins at 9:30 a.m., and her team will usually see a morning rush of zoo members with early morning access. Burns is already getting the ball rolling on lettuce refills this morning following a usual second rush around 10.

After rinsing out lettuce containers, Burns stacks three buckets of lettuce and carries them outside, where stroller-pushing parents stand in line to hold out bunches of greens to waiting giraffes. Burns opens up a cooler in the encounter space, adds the buckets to the bunch and checks in with other team members. 

10:40 a.m. – Burns makes her way to the P&G Discovery Forest to get ready for an encounter. She disappears behind a door marked “Education Animal Holding” and later exits with a blanket-covered crate.

10:50 a.m. – Burns sets the crate on a raised wooden platform near a busy walkway, where visitors stroll by on their way to habitats and exhibitions. Burns opens the crate, and out waddles Opal, a Virginia opossum and, in the words of Burns, “the most precious animal in the world.” Opal is just one of many critters that the zoo designates an “Ambassador Animal” — certain animals specifically meant to educate the public. Opal’s title carries a special weight due to opossums’ prominence in the area. Burns believes Opal helps people better appreciate a species locals may have misgivings about. 

“I like when people get to meet animals that they could see in their backyard, especially animals that have a bad reputation or people are scared of,” Burns explains. 

Opal is a rescue, and Burns shares a close bond with the opossum (Opal even made an appearance at  Burns’ wedding). The zoo received Opal from an organization outside Toledo that rehabilitates wild animals. While Opal was already comfortable around people upon her arrival at the zoo as a result, Burns spent time toting Opal around in a pouch to get her used to the zoo’s many sights and sounds, from the excited chatter of summer campers to the train that runs through the space.

During this encounter, Opal toddles around the platform’s landings and branches, occasionally munching on the crickets that Burns offers. Passers-by gather as Burns shares facts about the marsupial species, from their sense of smell to misconceptions surrounding “playing dead.”

If she’s not running an animal encounter like this one, Burns will either be taking meetings, tackling work at her desk or bringing Animal Ambassadors to Cincinnati Children’s Hospital. During “Wild Wednesdays,” Burns and these Animal Ambassadors will visit Seacrest Studios to participate in internal hospital broadcasts via WKID 33. 

11:15 a.m. – Opal re-enters her crate, and Burns drops her back off at the Discovery Forest. 

11:30 a.m. – Burns heads to her office. Dresses and jackets — presumably for the evening event ahead — hang on office doors throughout the workspace.

Burns’ office features a variety of zoo-themed memorabilia, including vintage postcards and pennants. Along with her team’s meticulously color-coded, day-to-day schedules, it’s here that Burns tackles the many emails she receives and writes scripts for the zoo’s Encounters & Chats. Burns also keeps information about the animals, such as Fiona and Fritz’s weight, as up-to-date as possible for her team to reference.

“ I like to tell people that in another life I was an English teacher,” Burns says.

In planning and facilitating encounters, Burns also accounts for each animal’s specific needs, including diet for feeding encounters and environments most comfortable for the Animal Ambassadors. She accounts for the pounds of lettuce each giraffe may consume, keeping in mind the portions of straw they’re also fed. If it’s too hot for Opal at an event, she may bring out a pancake tortoise or barn owl instead.

Burns works on finalizing details for Zoo La La, with a goal cut-off time of 2 p.m. to create a buffer should any last-minute changes or adjustments arise. Her afternoon will also usually involve a lunch break with some of her team members.  

2 p.m. – Burns’ team begins closing certain encounter spaces and cleaning areas and equipment as needed. Burns remains on stand-by to pick up any tasks or “last-minute zoo things” that arise, such as an animal appearance at a company picnic. On certain Thursdays, she’ll help facilitate “Creature Connections” in partnership with the Cincinnati Children’s Hospital Medical Center, which gives patients and their families customized animal encounters. Otherwise, she’ll continue her desk-based work for the rest of the day as her team checks back in and sometimes attends an American Association of Zookeepers meeting, depending on the week. 

5 p.m. – The zoo closes, but Burns admits that she and her husband often stick around for evening happenings at the zoo. Otherwise, she heads home for the day — ready for the traffic. 

To learn more about the Cincinnati Zoo and Botanical Garden, visit cincinnatizoo.org.

This story is featured in CityBeat’s July 9 print edition.

The post Queen City Clock-in: A Day with the Cincinnati Zoo’s Manager of Wild Encounters appeared first on Cincinnati CityBeat.

I can talk at length about my Honda Civic — its reliability, its value, its sleek but subtle design. But I’d be hard-pressed to elaborate on anything beyond my car’s surface level. I’m not a car person — never was and, most likely, never will be. Despite radiating Honda energy, I personally don’t see cars as anything more than a means of getting from Point A to Point B — plain and simple.

But while out driving to get from Point A to Point B, Circuit Cafe in Historic East End has often caught my eye. More often than not, the lot is empty. The cafe is only open on Saturdays and Sundays from 8 a.m. to noon for its headline Cars & Coffee gathering.

I’ve long debated attending. As a place to showcase vehicles and be among like-minded car enthusiasts, I felt like I’d have no chance of fitting in. But having seen photos of their specialty frappés, I let my curiosity win — reputation be darned.

On a particularly idyllic Saturday morning (I truly lucked out with the weather, even though I’m pretty sure the gathering is rain or shine), I pulled into the lot around 11. The event was winding down at that point, but there were still plenty of cars (and motorcycles!) on display in the lot. Still timid, I did an abysmal parking job on the farthest corner of the lot, near an unassuming Lexus, whose presence put me slightly at ease. 

As I made my way to the cafe, a small stand in the lot’s center, I curiously peeked into the open hoods of cars on display. What exactly I was looking at, I couldn’t say, but a neon green Honda personally struck my fancy.

Apart from its coffee menu, Circuit Cafe also sells donuts from Peace, Love and Little Donuts and biscuits and gravy, but the donuts were gone by the time I got there, and I questioned how well biscuits and gravy would pair with a frappé.

I went with a s’mores “Formula Frapp.” While they made my drink, I mentioned my apprehension to the barista. They shared that it’s actually a common sentiment; people feel like they need a “cool” car to even enter the lot. But they emphasized that’s not the point of the gathering — it’s the coffee and connection that come first. 

After grabbing a few free car-themed stickers from the counter, I took my drink outside to a cluster of picnic tables and a giant Connect Four. I was the only loner there — everyone else stood talking in groups. Engines revved as folks peeled out, often causing the people around me to knowingly chuckle, and, as particularly noteworthy cars happened to drive by without stopping, I noticed many heads turning.

The frappé was excellent, complete with graham cracker pieces blended in. The frozen drink was perfect for the weather, and despite the generous helpings of chocolate syrup and whipped cream, it steered clear (hehe) of being too sweet. 

Empowered by my delicious coffee, and perhaps clutching it like a security blanket, I found myself gingerly approaching a few clusters of people surrounding the vehicles that remained. I wasn’t certain what was on display, but I was curious to find out. One individual introduced me to their Fiat Abarth, and I stood among a group as another person showed off their Kawasaki motorcycle.

Numerous folks I chatted with told me they’ve been attending the event in all its iterations for years, some for a decade or more (the current Circuit Cafe was preceded by Ta’bogo Cafe). One person I met occasionally makes the nine-hour drive back after moving to Philadelphia just to attend. While the crowd was still pretty substantial during my visit in the last hour of the event, I learned that it was an unusually low turnout. Oftentimes, people vie for parking spots all down the length of the road.

I pretty much admitted my Honda Civic woes to everyone I encountered. The response was always the same: the car itself doesn’t really matter! One individual recounted the day when a “Frankenstein” Toyota Corolla with parts from all kinds of manufacturers parked next to a Lamborghini. The former stole the show. 

“The vibe here is different than some car shows,” Tony, who holds a tall to-go cup of black coffee, explains to me. “People bring projects. They bring clunkers. They bring exotics. It’s just a really neat cross-section.”

 ”My favorite part about this place is you don’t feel judged,” Rey explains, a Cinnamon Toast Crunch frappé in hand. “People ask you ‘What is your car?’ and they’re genuinely excited.”

“ As long as you bring something that you care about, then people will like it,” Zach adds.

I arrived at Cars & Coffee extremely apprehensive. I’ll brave anything for good coffee, but I still dreaded weird stares and cold shoulders. And while I didn’t leave having been transformed into a car person myself, I was pretty amazed at how welcoming and open every self-proclaimed car person I spoke to was. 

As I pulled out of the lot, it clicked — it’s not the car you journey in. Here, it really is all about the destination. 

Cincinnati Cars & Coffee takes place every Saturday and Sunday morning, unless otherwise noted, from 8 a.m. to noon. More info: facebook.com/circuitcafecincy.

This story is featured in CityBeat’s May 28 print edition.

The post Review: My Honda Civic and I Find Acceptance at Cars & Coffee appeared first on Cincinnati CityBeat.

In May 2024, I returned to Cincinnati following my undergraduate days at the University of Delaware. As I sorted through Mid-Atlantic tchotchkes packed away in my storage bins – shells from Delaware beaches, brochures from the DuPont estates, magnets from Philadelphia museums – I found a coupon for a free Wawa hoagie set to expire in a few months. I promptly chucked it, reasoning I’d have no need for it now that I was back in the Midwest.

While it would have been worth nothing at this point, I wish I hadn’t been so quick to toss it. In April of this year, Ohio got its first Wawa. Needless to say, I was ecstatic.

Wawa – a gas station/convenience store with a cult following on par with Sheetz and Buc-ee’s – got its start as a dairy purveyor in 1902 in Delaware County, Pennsylvania (“Delco,” to the locals). Yours truly got her first taste as a humble undergraduate, and my appetite for its coffees, sandwiches and bountiful breakfast menu has never been fully satisfied. I’ve been in Wawa’s before sunrise and after sunset. I’ve turned to them for sudden milkshake cravings and “healthier” food when my options were limited (do not sleep on their salads).

When Wawa opened its first Ohio location in Liberty Township, not only did it mean I could revamp my Wawa Rewards account and start getting those targeted YouTube ads once more – I could finally get those tastes I’ve long been craving.

I realize I might very well be speaking to an audience who has believed that the only reasonable sustenance one could get from a gas station was a healthy scoop of rainbow sherbet. And I should note here that the Liberty Township Wawa unironically stands right across the street from a UDF.

So, perhaps you don’t think the scent of gasoline can whet the appetite. It’s possible you just don’t like eating in your car. Maybe you decry the whole chain convenience store cult phenomenon in general. 

All is fair, but hear me out – the Wawas I knew in Delaware, Pennsylvania, and D.C. were all reliable locations for delicious, consistent and fresh food at all hours (they cater, for goodness’ sake). I’m happy to report that the Ohio Wawa turned out to be no exception. 

Walking in on an early evening, I was greeted by many familiar sights – self-serve kiosks for food orders, a coffee station, a standalone section for freshly baked goods. At Wawa, you have the option of pre-made grab-and-go fare or made-to-order items, from boxed wraps from the fridge to breakfast quesadillas handed to you by staff working the food counter.

Maybe it was for the sake of research, or maybe I’m just a glutton for nostalgia, but I spent a good 10 minutes tapping away at my kiosk to get a true sampling of this Wawa’s offerings (while the Wawa menus I’ve encountered over time have varied, they never fail to be extremely jam-packed with options). It also didn’t help that Wawa thrives on customization – tap on any given menu item, and you’re prompted to pick all your preferred spreads, spices, toppings and more.

Here’s what I sampled, paired with a chocolate chip cookie and a Wawa brand bottled lemonade, all for which I paid just about $40:

Cheesesteak

Wawa enjoys great renown for its hoagies (just you wait for Hoagiefest 2025, Cincinnati). Succumbing to a real East Coast craving, I opted for a cheesesteak. Jam-packed with meat and runny cheese sauce – as any respectable cheesesteak ought to be – it was a surprisingly solid sandwich. As I’ve mentioned, Wawa has never done me wrong in the freshness category, but I was unexpectedly impressed by how good the bread was.

Fries

Well-seasoned and served in adorable Wawa-branded packaging, these were a great little side dish. 

Honey Hot Bacon, Egg White Omelet & Cheese Snack & Go Wrap

I’m not usually the type to eat breakfast outside of morning hours, but I saw “hot honey,” and the rest is history. It being a member of the “$2, $4, $6 Menu” didn’t hurt either. The hot honey sauce was a great touch to the overarchingly savory flavors, but it could have done with a little more seasoning. However, for just a couple bucks, it was hot, fresh and surprisingly ample with protein.

Dill Pickle Ranch Crispy Chicken Sandwich

It’s a pickle party at Wawa this season – at the time of writing, they’ve got a whole menu section devoted to dill (their pizzas have not been spared). Myself unabashedly partial to pickles, I could not leave the premises without trying this sandwich. While loaded with crispy pickles, I could have done with more of the ranch Wawa is so fervently hyping – in short, it just wasn’t pickly enough for me. Niche toppings aside, however, the sandwich itself exceeded my expectations in terms of size and taste. The generous cut of chicken and fresh bun were probably the highlight of my inaugural Ohio Wawa run. 

Toasted Coconut Pineapple Pie Milkshake

I’m not usually one for sweets – especially 16 oz of them – but I couldn’t resist this menu item. I’m glad I was weak. The rich, creamy milkshake hit a perfect coconut-to-pineapple flavor ratio, with crunchy pie pieces swirled in. With humid, muggy weather doubtlessly around the corner, I appreciated this paradisiacal taste of what summer’s supposed to be. 

Iced Cold Foam Latte

Let it be known that I will support independently-owned coffee shops ‘til the day I kick the bucket. But, when road-tripping or in a particular rush, it’s hard to beat a Wawa coffee. And this creamy coffee was a dream. Despite it being on the sweeter side – i.e., not something you want to pair with a dill pickle menu item with – I couldn’t stop sipping throughout my meal. I’m not ashamed.

Ham Egg White Omelet

Consuming a Wawa quesadilla in the car – even a stationary one – is no easy feat. They, for lack of a better verb, ooze, and just so happen to be massive. I wish I could say this quesadilla was worth the ordeal, but it was a little underwhelming flavor-wise for all the pivoting I had to do to avoid staining my upholstery. However, I’ll concede that the aforementioned protein generosity rang true here as well.

Wawa, 7198 Cincinnati Dayton Road, Liberty Township. More info: wawa.com.

This story is featured in CityBeat’s May 14 print edition.

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