821 Cafe, the unassuming diner/restaurant/bar on the corner of Cherry and Cary streets – where Oregon Hill and the Fan meet – turns 20 years old in its current incarnation. Andrew Clarke and Chip Cooke bought the place from its previous owners back in 2004, and have since carried a torch we’d all be screaming about if it went out. 821 has been a staple in the neighborhood forever.
This place does really feel like it has a thousand fun ghosts partying in a hidden dimension just beyond our perception. If you tally up all of the hangovers put to rest in this place, the tonnage of awkward first dates, and the spillover of dank bro-downs, you get a a mere fraction of what this place really means to Oregon Hill, and Richmond as a whole. It’s much more than the sum of its parts. It’s a legend.
There were so many things that blew up at that time (2003 – 2005). Richmond was in a weird turning of the page/changing of the guard moment in time. The 90s dominant look in Richmond was raw and very grungy. At the turning of the millennium, its hardcore punk personality was giving way to sunnier, more fun expressions. I mean, we still screamed a lot but we danced more. It was like a tonal shift.
RVA Magazine, Gallery 5, Rumors, and a bunch of bars and venues would either close, open, or change hands then. It was a new chapter in a new book. Avail wasn’t recording anymore. Strike Anywhere was featured in video game soundtracks. Lamb of God was hitting its stride. Municipal Waste, Chop Suey Books, and the Best Friends Day crew were scheming up entire new microcosms of unhinged shenanigans. Slaughterama wasn’t just a whispered-about event amongst weird artist bikers. Sticky Rice built an entire multimedia culture around itself with Chew On This and the Cannonball Run Adventure reality shows. It got weird and ten times more fun.
CHRISTIAN DETRES: Here’s to 20 years of 821! *clunks two afternoon beer cans together* (Andrew’s is non-alcoholic, and has been for six years.)
ANDREW CLARKE: Approaching 30 years altogether from the inception of 821.
CD: What year did you buy it?
AC: We bought in 2004.
CD: You had been here working before?
AC: I had been here for I think about three years before we bought it
CD: I’d love to get your recollections of the era that 821 belongs to. For context, I know it existed 10 years before it became yours. Describe what the mood was like around in Richmond and around this space specifically, and what you felt you were inheriting.
AC: I was so young. If I’d been here for three years, that would have made me you know, all of 20 to 23 years old when I started working here. At that time, one of my really good friends worked here. I had been working at Joe’s Inn; I’d had a couple of false starts in college; I was also working at Copolla’s Deli. Both of those places are pretty important to me.
I just wanted to play in bands and hang out and drink and party. There was this crazy influx of punks and people from Florida. There were a couple of bands we played with that were constantly back and forth from Gainesville. I ended up living between two houses, with anywhere from 8 to 10 guys. We all worked here at 821 and played in bands together. We’d go home and party together and hang out and like so it was just a fun tribe. It was actually kind of weird for me because when Chip and I bought the restaurant I was about to turn 25-
[Brad Douglas, Richmond tattoo artist and Richmond legend walks into the restaurant, an armful of new paintings to hang in the joint. I smile at this other core aspect of 821. Its casually potent juxtaposition of gallery and eatery. I’m pretty sure every solid RVA illustrator and painter on the come-up has graced these walls in the last twenty years. We exchange hellos and jibes, jokes and he gets to nailing up a series of surtrealist/cubist portraits to the brick walls.]
It was just a weird time for me because I was so young when I bought the place. It set the tone for the rest of my life. I had to put away some of the fun stuff like a little earlier than most. I just stopped playing in bands as much. I couldn’t go on tour because I had to do this. A lot of my friends continued on doing their thing. In 2003, I met Jenny, who would become my wife. In 2006, my first son was born. Yeah, so that would make me 27. You know, most of my friends are still going hard and partying at this point. Those big life changes weren’t that crazy to me because I had already decided that this was going to be serious. I mean, I guess that’s pretty young.
CD: Yeah, is it though? Our parents wouldn’t have said so. I mean, their parents would have had grandchildren by then, lol.
AC: Jeez, Brixton is going to be 18 in six months. Yeah, that’s crazy.
CD: Speaking of the bands, which bands were you in?
AC: Let’s see at the time I was playing in a band called Triple Eagle. I think the touchstone for that era would be Johnny Z. I asked Johnny if he would be in it. He was like “hell yeah, I’ll be in your band.” He played with so many bands like Are You Fucking Serious!? and Safety Hawk. Just this core group of bands working at 821, partying together and then going out on tours together. Touring was a great, and now gone, analog experience. There were no smartphones. Just a paper atlas and no plan. I’m glad I got a chance to do all that before I settled into this place. Music is still a huge part of my life. I just had to adjust for it to remain central to me, but in different ways.
I remember when we worked here before we bought the restaurant, it would be like “Alright guys, we’re all gonna leave. We’re gonna take like, four of the members of this very small staff, and take off for a month.” Thankfully the owners were like “Sure, get your shifts covered and write it down.” We’ve tried to continue the legacy of 821 as being a musician-friendly place to work. We don’t have as many rockers as we have had in the past. It’s hard to lose people for that long especially when you rely on people a lot. But we do have a dude who’s in a band right now. So that’s probably going to happen sooner or later. Troy is in this band Restrictor Plate.
CD: I’m ignorant. Haven’t heard them yet. I’ll put a link to them in this article.
AC: They’re like hardcore, NASCAR-inspired – metal adjacent? They’re doing it like responsible people in their late 20s and 30s would. Like doing it seriously. Not like, “We’re gonna just hang out and have an excuse to talk to girls.”
CD: So, 821 was an institution before you took over. I mean, we all have had many hungover Sunday brunches here. When you stepped into the owner’s chair, what parts of it did you feel were important to keep?
AC: When we bought the restaurant, I was working there in the morning as an employee. We left to go sign the papers and came back to work the night shift as the owner. It was seamless. The owner even continued to work for us for a while. They didn’t end up staying on forever and it didn’t necessarily end on a good note. That was another hard issue because I was working with a group of people who were my best friends, bandmates, and roommates. And now it was like, “I’m your boss.” A couple times that bit me in the ass. A few times it worked out perfectly. We’ve got employees that have worked here for longer than I have.
CD: Oh, wow. Really? Who’s been here that long?
AC: Heather.
CD: She’s still here? Oh, get out of here. Cool. Hello through this article. ‘Sup, Heather?
AC: So there wasn’t a grand plan. It was like, “let’s get in there and let’s keep it going.” When I started working here, I came in with a pretty good amount of experience for someone in their early 20s. I had been working brunch at Joe’s and that’s where I cut my teeth. My parents dragged us there every Friday when we were kids.
CD: So wait, you grew up in the Fan area?
AC: I grew up in Bon Air. Still there now.
CD: Local boy. I didn’t realize that. So you keep it going. If you had to boil it down to like the best day that you’ve had or any stand-out anecdotes, what stands out as being a remarkable situation here?
AC: I mean, it’s it’s kind of an ongoing outstanding situation. This is a rather morbid example, but because we’ve been around for so long, we’ve lost tons of employees. Near and dear friends who aren’t with us anymore. I started to think, “are we fucking cursed? Why does this keep happening?” But then my wife pointed out, “you’ve been doing this for an entire lifetime. That’s natural. That’s gonna happen.” So, I feel the same way about hallmarks and best days.
One of the bigger days was when we moved over here to this location. At the time that was a huge gamble. We had no idea if that was going to work. [We thought], “is this Is it going to feel the same, or people are gonna hate 821 now?”
CD: What year did it move?
AC: We moved here in 2010 to this building. Crazy, because we’ve been here more than twice as long as we were ever there. This blows my mind because that place is still like… I can still hear the screen door slamming.
CD: I feel the same thing when I go when I go to the Village, you know? Yeah. Like, “that’s not the real Village Cafe! That was over there!” You know, like an old man would do, before yelling at a cloud or something.
AC: I think that was the biggest moment for us. Coming over here on a very shoestring budget. We were working there during the day and coming in here at night to fix it up.
CD: Did the move help make this location feel more like your own spot?
AC: Yeah, it did. There were some growing pains involved. There’s always been this core kind of idea of what 821 should be. Over all these years, we’ve continually tried to sharpen and whittle it down, make it more simple.
We used to have these pasta dinners. People loved those. From a restaurant’s point of view; it’s cheap, it’s easy, it’s fast, it’s good. But then, when you think about it, like do we have to do that? Do we have to have everything? Can’t we just have breakfast and sandwiches? Just easy stuff? It’s a constant struggle trying to balance what you want to be and, seriously, just surviving.
That’s another reason why it’s kind of outrageous that we’re still doing this. Especially for a couple of guys in their early 20s running a very busy diner.
CD: I’ve seen some of the most legit, storied, beloved places, not be able to make it. To not survive, especially through Covid. What was the what was that like for you? How did you get through? What made this work?
VCR, legendary weirdo party band, artwork by Barf Callahan
AC: The very first day of COVID we started getting text messages like, “this is gonna happen. I don’t feel comfortable coming to work,” etc. We were like, “look, we don’t know what’s gonna happen. We’re gonna close today and we’ll update you.” So we closed. It was a Tuesday I think. And we closed one other day. And then we just opened up. 10AM to 5PM, four to five days a week, with just Chip and I here. And that was it.
We’re like, “We’re here. If you want to pick up your food…” We’d put the food on a table by the door through all the various stages of COVID that we went through. We went through a long period when we just stared at the computer in the back room waiting for online orders. Just sit there, see an order, make it, put it in a bag, and put it by the door. There was a whole lot of standing around. It was weird to go outside. It was eerily quiet around Richmond. No traffic. It was hard and we almost didn’t make it for sure. We knew that we had to hold on until help started coming. So many grants and loans and opportunities that we would just have to hustle for. We’d have to jump in there and have all of our paperwork ready to go. And then wait.
CD: Was there a giant learning curve for you to become that kind of entirely responsible business person? Or do you feel like that was kind of in your blood already?
AC: Chip and I have never had assigned roles. We’ve never had a partnership agreement. Like, “this is what you do. This is what I do. This is how and when we’re going to do it.” We both have just done things as equal partners, and we do it for the health of the restaurant.
Yeah, I mean, it’s it’s a blessing and a curse. Chip and I are still very close. We’ve had our ups and downs like any long-term relationship, but we ultimately make it work. He’s always taken on more of the creative role with the food. He’s an incredible cook. He’s good with all kinds of food, especially, obviously, with what we focus on. Vegan, vegetarian stuff, and homestyle cooking. I took on the clerical, behind-the-scenes stuff. I don’t mind and it seems to click pretty well. I got very good at the whole grant process because I had to. Otherwise, we’re not going to stay en pointe.
CD: That’s got to be crazy. That’s like a marriage with a very expensive and needy kid. Over the past 20 years, you look out this window onto Cary St. How has this little nook just off VCU campus changed in your eyes?
AC: If anything, it’s condos. That’s that’s the whole city, I guess. But I mean, 821 was the only thing on this block along with Harvey Hardware. There were some crusty punk houses on the corner. You can’t talk about 821 without talking about Salvation Tattoo. We’ve had a lifelong friendship in terms of a lot of our important dates line up. This is going to be their 20th anniversary too.
CD: That’s what I’m talking about. 2003 – 2005 man. Something was in the water.
AC: Salvation was really associated with our era of younger people starting businesses. There’s Rumors too of course. If you had an idea and had some hustle to get the funds together to make it happen, the doors were wide open.
CD: The barrier of entry was a lot lower back then.
AC: Our rent at the old restaurant was $800 a month.
CD: Christ.
AC: But nothing real business-y was going on down here back then. Oregon Hill was still wild. It still hadn’t been entirely infiltrated by students and construction and all that stuff. I don’t shit on Richmond growing because obviously, it benefits me. Even if you think about VCU, it hasn’t changed all that much. It’s not quite the grimy art school that it was, but that’s where I got my degree from. VCU has a little clout now. The sports teams represent. There’s more than sculpture and illustration going on there. Back then it was like “You can get in on a whim. It’s $4,000 a year, so I may as well finish, I’m halfway done…”
CD: 821 has always been essentially a campus restaurant.
AC: It keeps me plugged in a little bit more to things I wouldn’t notice as I get older for sure. It’s nice to be in the middle of it. I don’t feel totally old all the time.
CD: The institution of 821 has meant a lot to a lot of people over the years. What were the some of the more memorable experiences you’ve had with customers or with you know, people that have that have relied on the spot?
AC:Oh man, so many. So many couples have gotten married. We’ve seen tons of kids born you know? Bar employees have kids. Our own kids have been raised here. Between Chip and I…
CD: Is it all Bob’s Burgers with them here?
AC: Oh, it totally is.
CD: I bet you have them in here stuffing napkin holders, refilling ketchups, wiping down menus… I watch a lot of Bob’s Burgers.
AC: I mean, to be honest, one of the highest praises being a restaurant owner is when your kid chooses to come here for their birthday. That’s the best. Highs, though? I mean, we love what we do. I’ve had lots of time over the years to perfect what I think of as the 821 mission. I get asked that a lot. I wanted it to be a place where you can go a couple times a week, not just a special occasion. Not that has a high concept. It’s just comfortable, easy, as affordable as we can still make it. That’s just what I’ve always always wanted to do. We’ve been able to remain a humble and friendly place.
CD: What’s your favorite thing on the menu for brunch?
AC: I’m a big breakfast burrito fan; it’s easy, it’s comfortable, it’s big. It’s, you know what I mean? You can take some with you.
CD: Non brunch?
AC: This is a hard one. Because obviously I’ve been eating the food here for 23 years. I do like oatmeal and a little banana every day.
CD Haha, for real? Can you remember yourself being excited about something you ate here, at some point in the last 20 years?
AC: It’s funny. It goes it goes in trends. I don’t want to like toot our own horn, but sometimes we’ll introduce a new sandwich. It’d be really popular and then you’ll see it pop up on other menus around town.
CD: All right. That’s a compliment.
AC: Yes. And we’ve never tripped over like, “you know all that’s our idea! That’s our sandwich blah blah blah!” That’s happened a couple of times. Being a vegetarian and vegan-friendly place, we started out a long time ago with simple tofu/tempeh items and now it’s the craziest faux meats that you could ever want – that you can have sent to you in the mail – that are great and healthy all of a sudden. I mean, we’re gonna fry it all up but like it comes here pretty healthy haha.
CD: So you’re here in this restaurant for 23 years. The same vibe, the place where people come for a specific type of interaction and experience. You’ve been observing people coming in and out of here and overhearing conversations in general tones and moods. If you had to psychoanalyze your clientele, how would you describe the slice of humanity you’ve witnessed come through here? What have you learned about humanity in the last 20 years via this microscope?
AC: There’s definitely been several like culture shifts. I don’t work behind the bar anymore, but I did for a long time. Seeing as we’re so close to VCU, there’s the same age of people coming in here. You can always tell when school comes back in. Really young people come in here looking lost and we’re just like, “sit down. It’s cool. You got mom’s card, it’s gonna be fine. You’ll be a regular here in no time.”
There’s a really weird disconnect in pop culture as you continue to age. You constantly have an influx of people representing a specific age – late teens, early twenties. Like they don’t know what Tremors is, and you try and crack a joke and they don’t get it at all. When you slide references into conversations that isn’t making any sense to them.
I’ve always thought that whatever magic there is at 821 is nothing that we do; the people that come in here, the people that work here, the regulars, just the overall mix, is what makes it. When I think about 821, I think about your weird professor coming in, hanging out and drinking with you. Or you know, the band you saw the night before getting road trip coffees. Or whatever Oregon Hill local that comes in every day for a breakfast sandwich and a coffee. That is what really made 821 special.
I really miss the pre-smartphone conversations. I was really proud of our extensive magazine rack that could go to battle with Barnes and Noble. It was cool collecting them and watching people enjoy some weird Euro motorcycle magazine while hanging out and smoking cigarettes. That’s a vibe.
CD: I love that we have Brad Douglas here putting up his new show right now. 821 has been a springboard for a lot of local artists in the last 20 years. I mean, I’m looking over your shoulder right now at a classic Jim “Barf” Callahan illustration. He’s amazing.
AC: Yeah, people love that one.
CD: Which artists do you feel you’ve contributed recognition to?
AC: There’s lots of heavy hitters and repeat offenders who have grown a lot and changed over the years like Barf, El Camino, and Chris Milk. Mickael Broth and those guys have showed here a bunch of times; anyone and everyone. We always tried to be really easy, like, no fees, nothing. Maybe give us a piece of art if you want to, which has happened a lot, and which is really cool. We just wanted to be accessible. We wanted it to be a place where you could always get a show. Chris Milk did the OG mural on the side of the building. He still comes in for breakfast all the time.
CD: It’s funny, as I was walking in here, I was looking at the mural outside and I was just thrown by how faded it is now. I remember when it was brand new. It puts perspective on when you go down Broad Street and see that old Coca Cola sign on the side of that building? As far as I’m concerned, it’s always looked like that. I don’t know when the fuck that thing was painted – guessing the 50s, I don’t know 40s? Then you start looking at the shit that you literally saw get painted fading into the brick. Someone new to Oregon Hill would see a relic where we see a memory. Things that make you go hmmm, right?
AC: Yeah updating or replacing that is so far away from happening. I’ve replaced the floor in here four times in the last ten years. If I ever have another restaurant, it will not have a basement.
CD: Oh, is that what the issue is? Is the basement.
AC: The downstairs this building had been empty since 1976.
CD: What the hell was the weirdest thing you had to clean out of it when you moved in?
AC: We found some like weird old bottles of pee like stuffed up in the fireplace. I think someone was working on the roof and threw them down the chimney at some point.
CD: Why didn’t they just pee down the chimney hole? What, did he bring pee jars with him in the morning before work? Like with a lunchbox? “Gotta remember the pee jars!”
AC: I do not know. We met a guy when we were doing the renovations. This guy came by and he had this huge notebook. He had been researching his family for 25 years. His family had the first ever business in this building in 1903. It was a barber shop called Union Barbershop. We’ve used that Union name for a couple of our dishes throughout the years. That’s what the 25 cent stylish haircut sign on the side of the building is referencing.
CD: That’s from that long ago?
AC: Well, our landlord had it freshened up. We still haven’t given any 25 cent haircuts. That guy told us all about his family. He had a copy of the census with all their names and an article about them in the paper. They lived upstairs with their 13 kids. There was a picture of them sitting out front – all these great pictures. The cool story is is this guy left Italy because he killed a man over a woman?
CD: Oh, nice.
AC: So he came here as a barbershop during the day, and according to his descendents, it was rumored to be a bordello at night. We never found any evidence of that. We were always wondering whether we’d find money tucked up in the windows and such. Here’s where it gets weirder. So, the circus used to come to town over near where the Diamond is – where the railroad tracks are all there.
CD: The circus was just here a few weeks ago, in the same spot. Had no idea that had a legacy. Big tent and everything.
AC: So the circus train would come through and they would do these little parades in the early 1900s. One year, a lion escaped from the circus train. The guy who owned Union Barbershop helped subdue him. So there’s a picture of him-
CD: This dude fought a fucking lion?
AC: He shot it! Yeah, there’s a picture of him with his revolver standing over this dead lion. Shit was crazy.
CD: He shot a lion with a revolver? That’s a good way to piss off a lion, I don’t know about kill it.
AC: It was cool to hear all those stories. The guy sent me pictures of the interior of the building and everything from the early 1900s. It was really cool. I tell that story so many times.
CD: Well you tell it well. I’ll let you get back to it dude. Thanks for the conversation.
Main photo by ufo.tofu
