Life seemed to be slowing down for Tim Schigel last fall. He had just hired a CEO to assume daily operations of ShareThis, his phenomenally successful business whose ubiquitous widget allows its users—more than 600 million worldwide and counting—to easily forward Internet articles while ShareThis gathers reams of data about those users to help advertisers target them. Regular trips between the company’s Palo Alto, California, headquarters and Schigel’s home in Cincinnati would ebb, and he would have more time to spend with his wife and three teenaged kids.
The first time he looked at the steep, narrow lot at the end of Oregon Street that would become The Palisades of Mt. Adams, architect John Senhauser knew it would pose a challenge—and that he could meet it. “There aren’t many places in Mt. Adams where you could really do flats like this,” Senhauser sa
The Skyline Chili restaurant at Fourth and Sycamore was packed with Reds fans enjoying dinner before the team squared off with the Cleveland Indians. Even though I find sitting through nine innings something worthy of Amnesty International’s attention, I wished I was going to the game. But no, I had something even more painfu
It shocks me more than a little bit to realize that a quarter century has passed since I set off for college. It was a big deal then and—for reasons tied up with vanity and my inability to grasp how fast time truly does fly—is an even bigger deal now. I mean, 25 years have gone by since my parents packed me, my all-in-one stereo/cassette player, my records, clothes, and trumpet into the car and deposited us on the grass in front of my dorm? Really? Funny how the mind can s
One hundred-ninety-seven. That’s the number of cookbooks I currently own. I know this exact number because I recently purchased a 6-foot by 7-foot bookcase to shelve them all.
Most anybody who walked down the main drag in Dayton, Kentucky, after a lifetime of being away would say “this place hasn’t changed much.” And that same anybody could walk right into Christofield’s Family Restaurant and find what they saw all those years ago: a long counter, swivel stools, a lot of stainless steel, the smell of coffee and chili, and the garble of conversation over issues of the day.
Don’t let the roiling stew of retail or the choked roads besieged by traffic and construction deceive you. Though Tony’s occupies a massive cinder block structure surrounded by a vast sprawl of pavement and a soulless wellspring of strip mall density, all you need to know is that once you’re through these doors, you matter.
Of all the ways a Loyola University student can blow money in Chicago, one of the best is at Carmen’s Pizza on North Sheridan Road. Located just across from the main campus, their stuffed pizza features a tsunami of über-gooey cheese and “toppings” pressure-sealed between two flaky layers of ultra-buttery crust and finished off with a bold, chunky, house-made sauce. It’s pricey, it takes forever, it’s laughably fattening, and it is damned tasty.