Guitar virtuoso Sunny War performs her critically acclaimed music in a solo show at The Front Porch on February 16.
Sunny War is on the phone, and there’s a long pause. It’s not unexpected—not even awkward at this point. Pauses are more common than flowing conversation with the experimental singer-songwriter.
But this pause is different. This time, War’s answering a question about her mental health, and the pause is alarming. So, too, is her eventual answer. “I think I’m okay. But probably not. I’m not going to kill myself or anything,” she says. Then she makes her decision: “I’m okay.”
War, who will play a solo show at The Front Porch on February 16, has been public about contemplating suicide in the past, specifically while she was working on her latest album, Anarchist Gospel, released in early 2023. She says songwriting has been an outlet that’s helped her through hardships over the years, including a terrifying teenage battle with methamphetamine and heroin addiction.
“I just write about whatever I’m thinking about at the time, I guess,” War says in her soft, halting way. “They are kind of like little therapy sessions for me. I guess if there is anything uplifting in them, it’s because I am trying to find something uplifting for myself.”
There is indeed something uplifting, even empowering, in War’s songs. And after more than two decades of songwriting experience—she says she’s been at it since she was little more than 7 years old—the eclectic guitarist and vocalist is drawing national attention to her unique blend of folk, blues, gospel, and punk rock. Rolling Stone called her “one of the best new voices in roots music” after Anarchist Gospel’s release; an L.A. Weekly critic said he hadn’t “heard a young guitarist this dexterous and ass-kicking in eons.”
War’s songs have their share of sadness, for certain. She calls the famously melancholic Elliott Smith, who died in 2003, one of her primary influences, and says she wrote Anarchist Gospel’s “I Got No Fight” to battle back suicidal thoughts.
But when the Nashville native and current Chattanooga resident plays Charlottesville, listeners will hear more than just another singer-songwriter fighting depression. They’ll hear soaring, hopeful numbers. They’ll hear driving, confident takedowns of associates gone by, ethereal explorations of what it means to be human.
They’ll also hear a style of guitar play so unique it can only have come about by the joyous happenstance of youth. According to War, after phases in which she was obsessed with blues rock and then ’70s and ’80s punk, she started listening to Dave Rawlings and Gillian Welch. It was 2001, the movie O Brother, Where Art Thou? had planted roots music back in the national zeitgeist, and War’s parents brought home Welch’s Time (The Revelator). The young guitar player was entranced by the album’s string parts. She wanted to emulate them.
“I didn’t really realize there were two people playing, so I was trying to play both of their parts,” she says. “That ended up being the foundation of my style.”
As War matured, she studied that two-part style intently. She self-released her first full-length album, Worthless, in 2015. She really began to find her voice on 2018’s With the Sun, followed it up with Shell of a Girl the next year, and won acclaim for 2021’s Simple Syrup, all three of which were distributed by Hen House Records.
Prior to launching Anarchist Gospel, War moved back to Nashville from Los Angeles and signed to New West Records. She teamed up with producer Andrija Tokic, who’s worked with Alabama Shakes and Langhorne Slim, among others. Together, they solicited abundant guest vocals by some of War’s idols (Rawlings), friends (Allison Russell), and collaborators (Chris Pierce)—not to mention My Morning Jacket frontman Jim James.
Despite Anarchist Gospel’s vocals-heavy vibe, War considers herself a music writer first. Fitting the meter of a song to existing lyrics, she says, rarely works. “It’s all about rhythm, how many words you can get in ‘this’ amount of time,” she says. “But I also need it to be symmetrical—songs are symmetrical—and even.” Indeed, War says she never wanted to be a singer. As a 7-year-old, playing guitar was her singular obsession.
Wrapping production on Anarchist Gospel, War got bad news. Her brother called and told her the siblings’ father was dying. She went to Chattanooga, driven by Tokic himself, to be with her dad in his final days.
Now, just over a year after releasing her latest LP, War guesses she’s played more than 200 shows. She says she’s exhausted. How does she get over the exhaustion and find inspiration to keep going? “I don’t,” she says.
Still, War has reason to look ahead, with two projects in her sights. In April, she’ll be featured on My Black Country: The Songs of Alice Randall, alongside Rhiannon Giddens, Adia Victoria, and others. And by that time, War says she’ll hopefully have been working on another full-length record for about a month.
If you or anyone you know is experiencing suicidal thoughts or a mental health crisis, please call or text the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. It is free, confidential, and available 24/7.
Alicia Walsh-Noel met Wilson Richey under difficult circumstances. She was part of the team opening Brasserie Saison in 2017, and it was a cutthroat crew. “Upper management was a toxic boys’ club,” Walsh-Noel says. “The restaurant industry can be a very cruel place, and Wilson was someone that really stood up for just the smallest person in the group.” Over Brasserie’s first year and a half or so—the now-closed restaurant’s golden era by all accounts—Walsh-Noel fought against other partners to keep her job. Some of the boys’ club wanted her fired. Richey did not. “He always had my back,” she says.
As the situation became untenable, Richey offered Walsh-Noel other positions in his multiple restaurants. It was a managerial tactic he was known for: going to bat for people, moving them around until he found the right place for them to thrive.
Walsh-Noel was inclined to take one of the jobs. Her health insurance was through Richey’s restaurant group, Ten Course Hospitality, and she was pregnant. She had been doing marketing and communications for Brasserie, so in what she calls a “moment of survival,” she asked Richey if she could do PR for the group. He agreed immediately, and Walsh-Noel’s firm, Do Me A Flavor, was born.
Wilson “Will” Richey died in a single-car accident at 1:21am on December 12. The Albemarle County Police Department reports that first responders were dispatched to the 1300 block of Owensville Road at the time, and 47-year-old Richey was pronounced dead. Reports indicate the prolific restaurateur was not wearing a seatbelt while driving home from one of his restaurants, Duner’s, when his vehicle entered a skid and crashed into an embankment. He left two children, a large extended family, numerous friends, and restaurant connections throughout the region.
In the six weeks since Richey’s death, the Charlottesville food community has come out in force to support the man who has been called their “Captain,” “the most beautiful soul of a poet you would ever know,” “the sharpest restaurant eye around,” and “a character from a Wes Anderson movie.” But what will be Richey’s lasting impact? In the process of owning or consulting on more than a dozen restaurants while leading Ten Course, the entrepreneur impacted hundreds of folks in the community.
“When rock stars die, sometimes you ask, ‘When is the last time they produced anything good?’” says Tavola co-owner Michael Keaveny, who met with Richey often to talk shop. “But with Wilson, he had all these concepts. What we are losing is this creative, open mind where anything was possible. We’re losing those concepts that were swirling in his head and his amazing ability to bring them to fruition.”
The early years
Will Richey helped found The Wine Guild of Charlottesville in 2008. Photo by Ashley Twiggs.
Architect Stephanie Williams met Richey, like so many others, over a wine glass. The two oenophiles were part of a blind tasting group, became close friends, and hatched a plan to work together.
“He came over to my house and said, ‘I have this crazy idea,’” Williams says. “Little did I know it would be the first of many crazy ideas.”
The idea was to create a sort of approachable but high-end wine club, a place to drink great vino among friends in leatherback chairs surrounded by dark-grain wood and a rustic, old-world aesthetic. The result was the lasting Wine Guild of Charlottesville. For nearly two decades, the bottle shop/bar/club has brought fine wines both imported and domestic to Charlottesvillians.
During the succeeding years, Williams’ relationship with Richey grew and changed. As a friend, he became one of her closest. As an architect, she worked on design for The Alley Light, Richey’s groundbreaking French small-plates destination, and various other projects, and eventually joined the team that would launch Ten Course’s Högwaller Brewing in 2023.
Richey’s interest in wine grew and changed over the years as well. Virginia winemaker Jake Busching, who became one of Richey’s closest friends around the fire pits for which the restaurateur was well known, says his pal “wasn’t a big advocate for Virginia wines.” But while Burgundy remained Richey’s true love of the wine world, he came around as local wines improved with time.
It was an outlook that Busching says Richey brought to all his projects. “The two of us had a common no-time-for-bullshit philosophy on living,” Busching says. “I think that is what people saw: He had all this positive energy, but he never glossed it over with anything. He saw things for what they were and spoke his mind.”
Today, the Wine Guild is operated by another close Richey consort, Will Curley. Curley, “the other Will,” moved to Charlottesville from Chicago by way of Richmond in 2016. His wife, Priscilla, went to work for the Keavenys (Tami Keaveny is a C-VILLE editor) at Tavola, and mentioned her husband was looking for a job as a waiter. Michael Keaveny hooked Curley up with Richey, the two men bonded over a certain intoxicating beverage, and Curley was slated for a position in the soon-to-open Brasserie Saison.
While he waited for the new restaurant to clear its final hurdles, Curley did odd jobs around the Ten Course portfolio. He bar-backed at The Whiskey Jar. He hosted during lunch at the Bebedero. And he got to know Richey.
“He and I really clicked over a love of good service,” Curley says. “He was the best at ambience and setting the vibe. His ideas were all backed by these massive Pinterest boards. He knew exactly what he wanted a place to feel like and look like and taste like.”
Growing up
Richey learned to make Revolutionary Soup in 1998 before purchasing the business in 2005. Photo by Erik Kelley.
If any single concrete symbol is most connected to Richey, it’s fire. It comes up in conversation with nearly everyone who knew him well. According to Williams, “it was rare for Will not to have a fire.”
“There were many evenings in our early relationship sitting around a fire pit,” the designer says. ”Almost all meals would retire to the fire. If there was a restaurant where Will could have a fire, he did.” At The Alley Light, Richey installed a fireplace for gathering. At Café Frank, a Scandinavian stove offered fire’s respite. He cooked over live fires outdoors as often as he could.
It was around a fire that Richey, along with Busching, came to know Eddie Karoliussen, a real estate agent who helped expand the Ten Course restaurant empire. Busching and Karoliussen came together almost weekly at Richey’s fire pit, where they discussed life’s big questions both personal and professional.
Reflecting on Richey’s business strategy, Karoliussen says his friend always wanted to own the buildings in which he ran restaurants. It was a key part of his go-to market strategy: Own the space, install experienced people to run the concept, launch, guide, move on to the next project. Sometimes, Karoliussen was still researching spaces when Richey had turned his eye to another project.
“He loved to create—that was truly his passion,” Karoliussen says. “And he would always find the right people.”
In March 2016, when Richey and Ten Course partner Josh Zanoff (who passed away in 2022) opened The Bebedero, a Mexican cantina striving for true authenticity, he recruited former Whiskey Jar bartender River Hawkins to run the drinks program. Hawkins was fresh off a year-long stay in Mexico, and brought a deep understanding of agave-based spirits like mezcal and tequila.
A Bebedero co-owner, Hawkins hopes to continue Richey’s love of hospitality at the downtown restaurant. Richey’s death “was a devastating loss—he was a good friend of mine beside being my partner—but all his businesses were put together with talented people,” Hawkins says. “Wilson was kind of the backbone, but he was more the wise mind behind things. He wasn’t necessarily always there working.”
The Future
Friends gathered at Högwaller Brewing for a taste of Ode to a Nightingale, the Richey tribute beer, whose artwork was created by Will Smith (pictured). Photo by Eze Amos.
The restaurants in Richey’s circle aren’t likely to crumble after his death. Hawkins isn’t the only colleague who reckons the restaurateur put the right infrastructure in place to ensure continued excellence at Revolutionary Soup, the Wine Guild, The Whiskey Jar, The Bebedero, Duner’s, and the newest Ten Course restaurant, Högwaller Brewing—not to mention the many spots for which Ten Course offered consulting or formerly held ownership stakes, such as The Alley Light, Café Frank, and The Pie Chest.
Richey’s brother, Brett, declined comment on the estate but is reportedly handling the restaurant portfolio, in addition to having created a crowdfunding campaign to support his brother’s two children.
Karoliussen says Richey’s latest restaurant, the beer and smashburger concept known as Högwaller Brewing, may have been the one with the most enduring legacy, ripe for an expansion model. But that, like the many unrealized concepts tumbling around Richey’s one-of-a-kind mind, will likely never happen.
“Will was the glue that held everything together, and I can’t imagine another Will out there,” Karoliussen says. “So, with Ten Course, to be honest, I don’t know what is going to happen. Our number-one goal is to take care of the children and do what is best for them, and Brett is such an incredibly smart person that he will do everything possible to make all of that work.”
So many other people impacted by Richey will likewise continue to make it work: Curly at the Wine Guild, Williams and her design firm, Hawkins at The Bebedero, employees and acquaintances innumerable. For Walsh-Noel, whose PR firm has seen its roster of clients reach as many as 19 over the five years she’s been in business, the job may be more difficult. And personal.
“I never studied to wake up one day to be the PR person for a dead man,” she says. “What I will remember about Wilson was that he was always doing these ridiculously quaint things. When we were opening Brasserie, he was always walking around with this wooden mallard for no reason. He would stroll down the mall in his little professor outfit, holding the mallard. He was just delightful.”
In honor of musician and poet David Berman, WTJU's first dedicated endowment, The David Berman Memorial Fund, will be earmarked to support student experiences at both WTJU and WXTJ. Photo by Aaron Margosis.
Kylie Wright spent a lot of time with late indie rock icon David Berman while they were students at the University of Virginia. They both hosted radio shows in WTJU’s not-so-coveted 2 to 6am slot. His: “The Big Hair Show.” Hers: “Jane Fonda’s Blackout.”
But when asked about her time with the poet and singer-songwriter, the first story that comes to Wright’s mind is set in the university’s library. The two aspiring musicians were studying one day when Berman decided to use the library’s suggestion board. “How would you improve the library?” the board queried. “More bass,” Berman answered.
Several days later, library staff responded: “We’re more ‘trout’ people.”
“David saw that and said, ‘My work here is done,’” Wright says. “He could really be a very funny person.”
Since Berman’s suicide in 2019, the media has focused much on the former Silver Jews frontman’s demons. He was a reclusive loner, they report, tormented by self doubt and addiction.
Back at UVA, though, Wright remembers how communal the budding lyricist’s energy was. WTJU was a fraternity/sorority for their friends, she says, and the group’s creativity worked in pure synergy.
It’s that sort of synergy that WTJU will try to perpetuate with its recently announced David Berman Memorial Fund, the station’s first dedicated endowment. According to WTJU General Manager Nathan Moore, the fund will be earmarked to support student experiences at both WTJU and WXTJ—much like those transformative programs Berman and his friends enjoyed in the late ’80s.
“Our mission is to bring people together through excellent music conversation,” Moore says. “We’ve been doing that for decades and decades.”
During his time at UVA and WTJU, Berman crafted the logophilic artistic approach that made him and the Silver Jews—founded alongside Stephen Malkmus and Bob Nastanovich of Pavement fame—influential for years to come. Berman was always as much a poet as a songwriter, painstakingly crafting lyrics for the Silver Jews, and later Purple Mountains, that reflected humanity’s greatest weaknesses and insecurities. His one collected work of verse, Actual Air, drew perhaps even more acclaim than did his song lyrics, with many critics praising the poetry’s blunt wit and absurdist take on American life.
When UVA alumnus Andy Stepanian approached Moore about starting an endowment, they agreed a fund in Berman’s name would be a perfect fit. “As a student, I tuned in to WTJU because it was always a place to hear alternative music,” Stepanian says. “I still have cassette tapes of some WTJU programs I recorded back in the early ’90s.”
Stepanian and his wife Liz provided the seed gift to start the memorial fund, but Moore says the station wants the legacy to go further. Additional donations, which the Stepanians will match through the end of summer 2024, will be required to maintain the program.
In the past, WTJU’s summer student internships have mostly been unpaid, something Moore says is inequitable—reserved for those who can afford to forgo income for three months. Indeed, many publicly funded radio stations, including NPR, have done away with their internship programs, citing their high cost.
With further donations, Moore says WTJU can continue to provide the kind of experience that let Berman, Wright, and their friends nurture their creativity, engage in the arts, tell stories, and learn the technical side of the music and radio business.
“It’s a privilege that can launch people into fantastic lives and careers,” Moore says. “This will help us grow the program and sustain it and perhaps expand it.”
Before he died, Berman was planning a Purple Mountains tour. Wright had tickets to see the band in Philadelphia. She emailed Berman to let him know she’d be there, and he responded with a promise not to do what he always did after shows: disappear. The next day, she heard the news of his death.
“I remember writing at the time that we lost the best and brightest in our group,” Wright says. “I think he had been fighting for years, and the strain of the upcoming tour was too much.”
Moore says he didn’t know Berman when he was alive, but he’s a fan of his music, lyrics, and voice. And he’s gotten to know more about him by meeting friends like Wright. The portrait is one that so many have come to know—the outsider, the disrupter, the sometime anarchist. But it’s also a portrait of an artist who embraced both people and creativity in all their forms.
“I used to listen to his show. I would come hang out sometimes, and we all kind of fed off of each others’ musical interests,” Wright says. “The media would try to build him up as this sort of brooding poet, and in actuality, it was about having his tribe around him. I just feel lucky that I was in the right time and place in history to have met David. I miss him all the time, but I’m glad his memory is being kept alive and that this is going to help young people in music.”
Chris Humphrey’s been in a lot of kitchens around Charlottesville, and soon he’ll add a new venture to his list: Seafood spot Bonny & Read, in the former Brasserie Saison space, will serve up surf and turf. Photo: Eze Amos
Chris Humphrey has paid his dues in local kitchens. So when he and restaurateur Stefan Friedman officially open their new seafood spot Bonny & Read, he’ll have earned the right to call the shots.
Humphrey has experience writing menus going back at least a decade to his time as executive chef at Rapture. But there have always been restrictions to his reign. Even when he bought Fellini’s and installed himself as executive chef in 2017, he “had to do Italian.”
Other career stops have been at Maya, Bizou, Metropolitan, Brasserie Saison, and The Whiskey Jar. That last, a soft landing space offered by friend and restaurateur Wilson Richey after Humphrey’s Brasserie travails, ended up being a shorter stay than he’d expected. Just months after going to work at the Jar, Humphrey began talking to Friedman about a concept the chef had been thinking about for 20 years: casual, modern Mid-Atlantic seafood. And just weeks after they started talking, Humphrey had a new job.
According to Humphrey, one reason the timeline was short was the need to jump on the Downtown Mall space Friedman found for the restaurant—namely, the one vacated by Brasserie Saison. Friedman, who bought Ace Biscuit & Barbecue earlier this year, saw in the old Brasserie dining room an opportunity to expand his own growing restaurant group, which he’s branded A Moveable Feast.
Bonny & Read held a soft opening for friends and family in mid-November, but Humphrey and Friedman aren’t ready to announce a formal opening date. According to Humphrey, when they do open, patrons can expect something other than “your classic seafood place,” with a local beef program running alongside features like flounder and crab.
“It’s not a raw bar,” Humphrey says. “A lot of seafood places don’t have many non-seafood options. Being on the Downtown Mall, we want to offer that.” Humphrey points to Public Fish & Oyster to help position Bonny & Read. “They do what they do really well,” he says. “There’s no need for us to replicate that.”
Humphrey, who’s been known over the years for creative southern dishes like Rapture’s Hillbilly Egg Rolls and Fellini’s Pimento Cheese Ravioli, said he’ll be true to his roots at Bonny & Read. Going down-coast to the Mid-Atlantic means he can capitalize on ingredients from below the Mason-Dixon and serve dishes like butter bean hummus, she-crab soup, and whole roasted fish.
“Really what we are trying to do is modern-feeling but recognizable food in a casual setting,” Humphrey says.
Humphrey promises the libations at Bonny & Read will be wine-driven but also feature craft cocktails. He and the Moveable Feast team have made some changes to the Brasserie Saison space, but “it was set up for success.”
In addition to the lack of creative restrictions, Humphrey hopes his latest career move comes with some much needed stability. During his three years at Brasserie, he engaged in a public exchange over lack of payment by ownership; that, followed by the quick in and out at The Whiskey Jar, have been difficult.
One upshot is Humphrey and Friedman are content to take it slow with Bonny & Read. Humphrey says Moveable Feast has a few other projects in the works (that he’s not free to divulge), and as Friedman works on those, he’s hoping to set a hard opening date and be cooking at least four days a week by early next year. Humphrey’s in the process of hiring a front-of-house manager, sous chef, line cooks, and bar manager—all the while working on the part of restaurants he loves: menu writing.
“I’ve got this dessert I’ve been playing around with that I’ve never had the right audience for,” Humphrey says. “It’s an old forgotten dessert I discovered 10 or 11 years ago—think key lime pie but made with lemon, and instead of graham cracker, it has a slightly-sweet saltine cracker crust.”
Humphrey’s seen a lot in his decades as a Charlottesville chef, and he says he’s hopeful for the future—and not just his own. He sees the restaurant industry continuing to improve and other kitchens around town bustling.
“You know, the last couple of months, I haven’t done a lot of cooking,” he says. “I’m sort of out of the loop, but all my friends keep telling me how tired they are ‘cause they’re so busy. I think Bonny & Read can fill a spot that needs to be filled downtown. There are a lot of great restaurants and variety, but I think we’ll be unique.”
The Wich Lab’s Aris Cuadra says his CODE Building spot is a chance to flex his culinary muscles. Photo: Tristan Williams
Aris Cuadra’s been racing around the local restaurant scene for more than a decade, from The Clifton to Tavola, Pasture, and Cafe Bocce. But these days, he’s content just to loaf.
That’s right, the Puerto Rican native went all in on sandwiches when he opened the Wich Lab in the CODE Building a few months ago.
“I’ve been a chef my entire adult life,” Cuadra says. “I wanted to do something simple using great ingredients and my experience as a chef.”
At the Lab, that means carefully crafting hot and cold sandwiches running the gamut from the traditional to the outside-the-breadbox. Cuadra’s got classics like Reubens, Cubans, Italians, and chickens, but they’re all done his way. The one-time New York City chef prides himself on technique—little things like making sure his buns are always buttered and toasted just so.
Cuadra says the Wich Lab’s Reuben is popular, along with his breakfast sandwiches and the best-selling Gobble Gobble, featuring turkey, bacon, avocado, everything spread, tomato jam, and arugula on homemade focaccia. Cuadra buys ciabatta and rye from Albemarle Baking Company; the focaccia is his chance to flex.
The Wich Lab’s Cubano is a Tampa take, with salami added to the traditional toppings and grilled focaccia providing the base. Cuadra makes bread every day, but he says day-olds are actually better for the pressed sandwich. “I’ve had people say it was the best sandwich they’ve ever had in their life,” Cuadra says. “That’s not my goal, but it’s nice to hear.”
One change Cuadra’s already made to his menu is eliminating stuff he thought he had to have. And while the obligatory vegan option got the hammer, the Lab still cooks up an off-the-wall vegetarian option with charred broccoli, pine nuts, pecorino cheese, potato chips, roasted garlic aioli, and pickled cranberry.
“We had a group of older people come out, and they were blown away with potato chips on a sandwich,” Cuadra says. “I have fun with menu writing. I’m creative in every aspect of what I do, from menu writing to the menu itself, the atmosphere, the music.”
This guy loves sandwiches, and he posts to tell you about it. Follow the CVille Sandwich King
on Instagram
@cvillesandwichking. Photo: Tristan Williams
The self-anointed CVille Sandwich King would rather not tell you his name. But he’s happy to tell you—not to mention listeners to his “Sandwich Minute” on WTJU and 1,000-plus Instagram followers—where to get a good sammie.—Shea Gibbs
Knife & Fork: How did you ascend to the local sandwich throne?
CVille Sandwich King: I’ve lived here for four years—I came down from northern Virginia. I’m originally from Philadelphia, a great spot if you like sandwiches. So when I moved to northern Virginia, I thought sandwiches were kind of a blindspot. I would be frustrated by people willingly eating at Subway. My affinity for Charlottesville sandwiches started in 2006 when I visited my girlfriend (now wife, known as the Queen on Instagram) and tried a different Littlejohn’s sandwich on each visit. When we moved here, I started trying other places and keeping a diary. My wife said, “You should start a food Insta.” I kind of rolled my eyes but started doing it, mostly as a joke. Then it gained momentum.
How often do you eat sandwiches, and how do you choose?
I don’t go out as much as I’d like, but recently as I’ve gained more followers, I’ve tried to keep them coming. I try to get out twice a week, once during the week and once on the weekend. If you look at my feed, there are places I go time and again for convenience—a lot of Dürty Nelly’s and The Market at Bellair. I’ve also started to get inbound recs from people.
What are your favorite local sandwiches?
One place that I think is just incredible is Chickadee. They make their own brioche and these amazing hoagie rolls. The steak frites is sort of a glammed-up cheesesteak: shaved beef, sharp provolone, caramelized onions, garlic aioli, and demi glace, then they take these thinly fried potatoes and call it a “nest.” Another one—La Michoacana. They have a bunch of tortas, and I love the classic Torta Michoacana; it’s steak, chorizo, and smoked sausage all on a huge roll. At Dürty Nelly’s, my favorite is the Blue Ridge, with roast beef, beer cheese, bacon, lettuce, tomato, mayo, and horseradish on a kaiser roll. I guess I’m a steak and beef kind of person. Oh, here’s a tip: Mona Lisa Pasta has some really good sandwiches, and most people don’t think of it.
I see you go to Bodo’s often. What’s your order?
I love Bodo’s, but who doesn’t? I had a follower recommend what’s become my go to: a breakfast bagel with pastrami. Pastrami didn’t register with me at first for breakfast, but I guess it’s just another fatty meat. The way they do it—I think they put it on the flattop—it comes hot and charred a little. I get the pastrami with a deli egg and cheddar on everything, but I mix it up from time to time. If you like breakfast, Multiverse Kitchens has a pancake sandwich that’s sort of a gourmet McGriddle, and I love the tasso ham biscuits at JM Stock.
Know of any healthy sandwich options?
I don’t know if they’re healthy, but for healthier sandwiches, I try to eat some vegetarian options. Greenwood Grocery has a sandwich called the Beauregard with grilled sweet potatoes and kimchi on sourdough with cilantro-chili spread. It’s super delicious and not one of those vegetarian things where you’re still hungry afterward. I’ve only been to Botanical Fare once, but I had the chickpea “tuna” sandwich, and it was really good. I don’t naturally seek healthy options out. If I’m in that mood, I just pop for a salad.
You’re from Philly. Any good cheesesteaks around?
There are a few places that call sandwiches “cheesesteaks,” but they’re not what we would call a cheesesteak. The one place that does it is Lucky Blue’s Bar; they basically do what we call “Whiz with”—just beef, grilled onions, and Cheese Whiz on an Amoroso’s roll. But honestly, I don’t like to be a guardian of the cheesesteak. I can appreciate something outside the traditional.
What is it about sandwiches?
For whatever reason, sandwiches seem to sort of shape a lot of people’s perceptions of a geography. They give them a culinary connection to where they live or where they’re from. With sandwiches, there’s this appreciation and connection that people have with one another, and I don’t know why that is. But every time I post, I have people message me and say “you should try this” or “get it this way.” People just want to chat about sandwiches and connect.
CroZeli Sandwich Shop takes inspiration from New Orleans sando spot Turkey and the Wolf, but the resulting creations are all the brainchildren of owner Chase Rannigan. Photo: Eze Amos
When Mason Hereford opened Turkey and the Wolf to widespread critical acclaim in the city of New Orleans, it was like a butter knife to Charlottesville’s back. It was like Dave Matthews saying he got his start in Nashville.
Hereford, a Charlottesville native and University of Virginia graduate, has won scores of awards for his playful Big Easy sammie shoppe. Charlottesville, meanwhile, couldn’t score a fried bologna sandwich stacked with potato chips (Hereford’s specialty) to save its life.
Until CroZeli Sandwich Shop opened on August 14.
Service industry lifer Chase Rannigan and his wife Paige created CroZeli with the intention of doing “fun takes on classic sandwiches with well-sourced ingredients.”
“Mason has set the bar. I would never compare myself to him—he has a James Beard Award,” Rannigan says. “He was definitely on my radar when we were opening. That was the inspiration for a lot of the menu.”
Rannigan, who’s done stints at Pizza Bella, Shebeen, Fardowners, and private catering outfits, got the James Beard part somewhat wrong. Hereford was a 2019 semi-finalist, not a winner. But he’s getting the whimsical sandwiches part totally right. That starts with CroZeli’s bestseller, the Turkey Crunch, featuring turkey, provolone, shredded lettuce, potato chips, pickles, onions, and dill aioli on a sub roll, and folds right into the Italian Fried Bologna, with mortadella, provolone, shredded lettuce, mustard, mayo, and—you guessed it—potato chips.
“The menu is fairly small, but we’ll revise it and add stuff, look at the numbers and see what has sold and what hasn’t,” Rannigan says.
The limited menu is by design. Rannigan and his wife decided to open CroZeli when they saw the old Morsel Compass space in Crozet come available. The building had suffered a flood and was gutted, but the remaining facilities were serviceable. A small, seasonal sandwich list is the best way to use the space, Rannigan says.
CroZeli keeps it interesting between menu changes with inventive specials. One of the most popular was a chopped cheese with Big Mac vibes. Rannigan’s also done a chicken chopped cheese, a take on a cordon bleu, a turkey Rachel, and a Sloppy Jersey with turkey, Swiss, and cole slaw on marble rye. Apparently, that’s what Jersey folks call a “sloppy Joe.”
“Google it,” Rannigan says. “We couldn’t label it as a sloppy Joe because no one would’ve known what it was.”
Other top CroZeli sellers are the cheesesteak, festooned with both Cheez Whiz and provolone, a traditional Reuben, and a muffuletta with mortadella, ham, salami, provolone, and olive tapenade towered on ciabatta from Carter’s Specialty Breads.
CroZeli also keeps it simple with counter service and no dining room, so your Kitchen Sink with turkey, salami, ham, Swiss, and hot peppers will have to be to-go. “There’s definitely no one else in Crozet doing what we’re doing,” Rannigan says. “We’re a specialty sandwich shop. There’s not really anything to compare it to.”
Three Notch’d Road: The Virginia Baroque Ensemble plays three area Sacred Harp shows this week. Details can be found at tnrbaroque.org. Publicity photo.
When accomplished local violinist Fiona Hughes says she loves music that “transcends the divide between high art and popular,” she ain’t talking about the divide between Brian Eno and Bryan Adams.
Hughes is into the type of sounds that would’ve made the rounds in Colonial Virginia, specifically post-Renaissance baroque tunes. In other words, her favored songs might be high art by modern standards, but they were the toe-tapping jams of Jefferson’s day.
“I studied violin performance—typically classical violin,” Hughes says. “But I connected more with baroque music. It seemed closer to folk.”
Hughes and her Three Notch’d Road: The Virginia Baroque Ensemble will show Charlottesville what all that means when they unveil Sacred Harp: English, Irish & American Christmas from December 1 to 3. The holiday program will meander through music of the British Isles and America, highlighted by Irish folk songs and “The Sacred Harp,” an 1844 American shape note masterpiece developed from rural English church music. They will also premiere “Chesterton Carol,” the group’s own arrangement of a piece by renowned American composer Mark Nowakowski, based on G.K. Chesterton’s poem, “A Christmas Carol.”
“Mark is American, and so we have this present-day interest in our mother country represented,” Hughes says. “But the composition uses historic instruments.”
The Three Notch’d Road performances, running on consecutive nights at Christ Lutheran Church in Staunton, Emmanuel Episcopal Church in Greenwood, and Grace Episcopal Church in Keswick, will be headlined by Hughes on violin and vocals, as well as a hand-picked cast of early American music standouts. Sheila Dietrich sings soprano, Cameron Welke plays theorbo (a type of lute with a long neck for low notes), and founding Three Notch’d Road member Anne Timberlake plays recorder, itself related to some of the oldest instruments in the world.
Also appearing will be tenor Benjamin Geier, bassist Jared Swope, and baroque cellist Ryan Lowe. “Really the foundation is Ryan on cello and Cameron on guitar and lute,” Hughes says. “They provide the harmonic foundation.” Hughes’ baroque ensemble frequently features vocalists singing in harmony, and they’ll have an opportunity to shine during the holiday program on one of the Wexford Carols, a collection of traditional Irish folk songs about Christmas.
Hughes says the Charlottesville area has become a minor bastion of early music talent, with her ensemble approaching its 14th year of activity. Like the local craft beer maker of the same name, Hughes’ ensemble takes its moniker from the Colonial Three Notch’d Road. With its self-described “musicianship … founded on a vigorous historical approach,” Three Notch’d Road began doing four-engagement seasons in 2011. Hughes says she frequently includes a Christmas program, but it’s not by rule. In addition to the subscription series, the ensemble performs collectively and individually at schools throughout central Virginia.
Three Notch’d Road has appeared at the Waterford Concert Series, Ewell Concert Series at the College of William & Mary, Boston Early Music Festival Fringe Concert Series, and Tuesday Concert Series at Church of the Epiphany in Washington, D.C. The group has collaborated with the University of Virginia Chamber Singers under the direction of Michael Slon, and in 2013, the musicians presented the music of Salamone Rossi at the Italian Embassy in Washington, D.C.
Hughes says the Christmas show audience can expect to hear Irish fiddle tunes juxtaposed with arias by German composer George Frideric Handel, both of which were popular in America during the Colonial period. “Thomas Jefferson would’ve had Handel’s music in his collection,” Hughes says. “And in some ways, Handel’s Messiah is a public tradition at Christmas.”
Hughes says baroque music the world over—not only from Germany and Ireland, but also as far east as Japan—has much in common. The harmonies, for one, are “natural” and “not intentionally ugly like some modern music can be,” she says. The music is characterized by using instruments in more experimental ways than composers had previously, as well as an element of improvisation.
Hughes calls baroque music “emotionally broad,” and says it “appeals to the head.” And while her Sacred Harp program dips into multiple early music traditions, she thinks listeners will hear a clear throughline as the night progresses.
“It is like detective work … for every program I am really learning about the connections,” Hughes says. “In the past, we have focused on the English and American connection, but in this case, we are exploring the Irish influence too, which is a more recent wave of immigration in the 19th century.”
Shot on 16mm film in Charlottesville, Danny Wagner’s For the Taking fuses a homegrown heist plot with a cast of varied acting experience. Image courtesy of VAFF.
Danny Wagner knows he’s a baby in the modern movie biz.
The young filmmaker has worked as a production assistant for major television studios on shows like “Young Sheldon” and as a production coordinator on multiple feature films. But he says he’s still “not there yet” when it comes to making it in Hollywood.
Wagner’s own first feature film, For the Taking, could be the break he’s been looking for. The movie will premiere at the Virginia Film Festival on Sunday.
“The Virginia Film Festival is the first film festival I ever knew, and getting to have our world premiere there is in some ways a climax,” Wagner says. “Its reputation is prestigious, but it also gives movies like ours that are made in the area a chance to shine in a larger venue.”
Wagner, a Charlottesville native and UVA grad, has filmmaking in his blood. Both his parents are documentarians, and he began learning about producing movies when he was “in the single digits.”
The single digits wasn’t so long ago for Wagner—he graduated from UVA in 2018—and his passion for cinema has persisted over the past two decades. He found his voice as an actor in school productions and at Live Arts, and while the university doesn’t have a film department or offer a filmmaking major, Wagner cut his teeth in the media studies department with a film theory concentration and by taking on internships. A work-study he completed with casting and production agency arvold. was particularly enlightening, he says.
“That was an amazing way to understand the film scene not just in Virginia, but along the East Coast and Eastern Seaboard,” Wagner says. “I made a reel of the actors they had in big projects—‘House of Cards,’ ‘Turn,’ and others—and all the talent they had helped cultivate in Virginia really opened my eyes.”
Wagner says For the Taking, a 77-minute heist flick, was a happy accident of the 2020 pandemic. The emerging filmmaker and then-Los Angeles resident was forced back to his hometown of Charlottesville when work dried up. Staying in touch with other industry folks in Virginia, New York, L.A., and beyond, he hatched an idea: Write a script about a guy down on his luck and forced into a caper, cast two unknowns as lead actors, bring in more experienced thespians to guide the newbies, and film the whole thing in rustic 16mm.
The result is an eccentric movie with a raw edge that Wagner believes he was only able to capture using a couple guys new to the silver screen.
“I got really excited about the idea of capturing their little idiosyncratic mistakes to create natural moments,” the filmmaker says. “And I think the natural occurrences make you feel excited for them to succeed. It has been a long, rocky process to get it finished, but it does live by that principle—a spontaneous, authentic, and organic set of characters.”
Wagner also sees For the Taking’s homemade quality as a plus in modern distribution. Could he move the film over to YouTube at some point? Cut the whole thing up and turn it into TikToks? Take it on the road and show it outdoors on projectors? He’s open to anything if it means more people see his movie.
“For the Taking has only taken my money so far, but everyone who has worked on this film has equity in it, and if the film succeeds, we all succeed,” Wagner says. “We all see it as a stepping stone, and I am really happy with what we made. It’s breezy, authentic, and heartfelt. I think there’s an audience for it.”
Adventure pop megaband We Are Star Children will release a long-awaited new album, Spitfire, in January. Fans can press play on a third single from the record on November 1. Supplied photo.
Gene Osborn is keenly aware that he is “walking a fine line” between his day job and night life. After performing with his band We Are Star Children in the evenings, the longtime Charlottesville educator shifts gears before morning to serve as Red Hill Elementary School’s assistant principal.
“There is a tension between having a fun and wild rock band … and being with preschoolers through fifth graders all day,” Osborn says. “I love the tension.”
Fans of WASC know tension. When the band unveils Spitfire, its new eight-track album, in January 2024—maybe on January 1 or timed with a release party on January 20, Osborn isn’t yet sure—it will be the first release listeners have heard from the group in almost a decade.
Osborn has fronted WASC since 2010, when the band released its first EP, Love to the Wicked. (The group released one other EP under the name Straight Punch to the Crotch.) In 2014, Osborn and what was then a seven-piece band, released its first full-length record, and the frontman reflected at the time that “the material [had] migrated so far away” from the goofy original name.
At that moment, WASC seemed ascendant. Playing at the Jefferson and Southern and headlining Fridays After Five, the septet was one of the most polished outfits in town. Dubbing themselves “adventure pop,” they were Charlottesville’s answer to the likes of MGMT. Regional, and maybe national, acclaim seemed imminent.
Then? Almost radio silence. No new albums for two years, four years, eight years—an eternity in the world of pop music, and a death knell for any band whose ambitions are big-time stardom.
But Osborn brushes off such talk. Those were never WASC’s ambitions anyway, he says.
“We Are Star Children grows incredibly slowly and deliberately, mostly because we are a collection of mothers and fathers and business owners and teachers,” he says.
WASC gathers for a few hours every Monday for its residency at Fry’s Spring Beach Club, Osborn goes on to say. And “it’s within that wonderful window of time that we will develop a new song or work on some old material or do some band management.”
Although the group has seen considerable changes away from the studio and stage over the last 10 years—a few new careers and multiple new dependents—WASC has made precious few internal tweaks. The band’s added two new full-time members, but the other seven players have remained the same, and WASC continues to book just four to five shows per year.
According to Osborn, never feeling like they have to pay their bills with music is key to WASC’s members staying together and on the same wavelength.
“It’s a passion project. We can really choose those wonderful gigs,” Osborn says. “I believe the universe sends us signals and points us toward what it needs of us. I keep getting pointed back to my work in schools and with families, but the band has also really enriched my work. The universe has never asked us to be anything other than that which we are.”
As for its new album, WASC has released two tracks in advance of next year’s full release. Spitfire’s first song, “Fairy King,” adds a western twang to WASC’s classic psych-pop approach; the effect is something in the vein of Calexico, Midlake, or Iron and Wine. The second release, “Landline,” is another divergence altogether: a playful exploration of phone sex that evolves into a full-on sea shanty.
“It has always been a very difficult question for us—who do we sound like?” Osborn says. “It’s really tricky, because the album has such range. It’s not really a shtick, like having each song be a different genre. It’s far more organic, having songs that each relay a different feeling.”
Osborn says a third Spitfire single is coming on November 1. And though he won’t specify which tune it will be, it likely won’t be the title track, something he wrote as a letter to Trayvon Martin’s mother in the wake of her son’s murder. Another genre-defying effort, the song has been a labor of love, Osborn says, and the final product will include accompaniment by a full choir.
As for his ambitions—for WASC and beyond—Osborn says the universe once again has shown him the way.
“Ever since I was a kid, I wanted to be in educational leadership. I wanted my own school—that has been my main driving force,” he says. “I serve a wide range of families, and there are families who are fans of the band, and some that have very strong opinions. But when I close my eyes and reflect on the life I have built, the tension between service to art and service to children makes my life full.”
