Nostalgia warning: My favorite Italian-carryout counter is closing its second location, nestled at the ever-shifting commercial crossroads that is E. Marshall and N. 27th streets, after six eventful years. Suffice to say, I feel some kind of way about it.
On the bright side, the flagship location in the Fan will continue serving its all-killer, no-filler menu of primarily pasta, pizza and heros, on into the future.
I moved around a lot when I lived in Church Hill: four rentals in six years; and although I’ve since hopped hills to Fulton, 8 ½’s food has been foundational in my home(s). Leftover penne and pizza were fixtures of the fridge, and whenever friends and family have visited from out of town, they’ve had to try a slice with green peppers, even if they didn’t like green peppers, because they “never tasted green peppers like 8 ½’s green peppers.” Ditto the vegan pizza.
I’m feeling the loss even with recent news that, directly across the street, around the corner and down the road from my soon-to-be-former culinary epicenter, three new Italian food purveyors are joining the neighborhood: Giorno, an Italian market in the erstwhile Tiny Space locale at 2708 E. Marshall; Secret Squares, a pizza place in the former home of Nile Ethiopian at 306 N 29th St.; and Oro, pasta with an amaro-forward bar in the former Hawks BBQ garage property at 2000 Venable St. It’s a constantly changing landscape, and a privileged problem, to be sure. Yet, I can’t help wishing every mom-and-pop shop could thrive, and that I never have to see another war-mongering fast food chain ever again.
But I digress, as I digest. Co-owner and manager of 8 ½ Church Hill, Ryan Jones, most often seen conducting magic in its open kitchen, took the time to field my questions during its final stretch on Richmond’s East Side.
Style: What’s your history with 8 ½’s original location in The Fan? What prompted expanding to Church Hill?
Ryan Jones: I worked at Edo’s Squid from 2005-2015. As I was leaving, myself and a couple of other people were invited to join the partnership at 8½. We all worked together for a couple of years, but it seemed like there were too many owners working in one place. So when the Church Hill location came up, we made a decision to open a second location.
I remember experiencing sheer joy when I first heard you were opening in Church Hill, a few short blocks from my apartment at the time. What do you remember about your initial reception in the neighborhood?
We tried to keep things under wraps for as long as possible, but word eventually got out we were opening at some point in Church Hill. At the time we didn’t have any social media and weren’t making any updates to the public. If I recall correctly, we had our phone number listed on Google, we just never answered it. Once we got a staff together and prepped the menu, we were going to do a soft opening but then the phone rang one night, and we decided to answer it and took the order. From what I remember, that person took it upon themselves to go to NextDoor and told everyone we were open. And then they told their friends and so on. That night was crazy busy. Probably not the best way to open a restaurant but it was certainly fun.
You were barely open for two years before the pandemic and subsequent lockdown, what did that mean for your business? How did you get through it?
It was definitely intense. And scary. But at the time I remember thinking, if grocery stores can be open so can we. We kept it tight, and like many other places, weren’t letting the public into the restaurant. As for business, we were quite busy, especially at first, when a lot of other sit-down restaurants pivoted to take out. But we were always take-out so that part was seamless. I think we, or maybe just me, got through it by not really thinking about anything else. It was such a dark time for many reasons, and having a task was therapeutic in a weird way.
“When you take away people’s comfort they grieve. I’ve seen all the stages from people in the neighborhood: denial, anger, bargaining and depression. Eventually there will be acceptance.” — Ryan Jones
Would you share any rewarding experiences from that time?
Having people call and anonymously make large orders for healthcare workers was pretty remarkable. Being able to facilitate that kind of generosity was very rewarding.
Why are you closing now?
Many reasons. Everyone thinks it’s the landlord, which couldn’t be further from the truth. I guess the best way for me to put it is that we tried something, and while it hasn’t worked out as well as we would have liked, it’s definitely not a failure.
You offered my family the first sense of normality during the lockdown, and remained a comfort we looked forward to throughout; news that you’d be closing by the end of the year came as a surprise. How has the response to that news been, both for you personally, and among the staff and the community?
Not to be too self-aggrandizing but 8½ is a staple for many people. Like you said, it’s comfort. And so when you take away people’s comfort they grieve. I’ve seen all the stages from people in the neighborhood: denial, anger, bargaining and depression. Eventually there will be acceptance. I also like to remind people that the other location is just right down the road and it’s not a total loss, like it has been with other Richmond restaurants.
What do you hope to get out of the final days?
I want to serve the same great food we always have. I kind of want to have some kind of party, but we’ll see how that plays out.
How has Richmond changed from where you’re standing, since opening your doors in 2018?
A million ways. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.
What’s next for you?
I’ll go to work at Strawberry Street.
See ‘ya there.
8 ½’s last day of service at 2709 E. Marshall St is Sunday, Dec. 1 from 11 a.m. to 10 p.m.
