Whenever you learn that a company began in your hometown, you get a surge of pride. That's how I felt when I learned Wendy's, Buffalo Wild Wings, and Victoria Secret were started in Columbus, OH. But nothing made me prouder than learning that Donato's was a homegrown endeavor from the daughter of the founder. She now runs the company which was inspirational as hell. Let's look at a history of Donato's.
Something for Ohioans to be Proud Of.
COLUMBUS, OHIO — There is a certain kind of industriousness that can only be found in a nineteen-year-old with thirteen hundred dollars and a conviction that the American public is being cheated on their pepperoni count.
In 1963, while most sophomores at Ohio State were fretting over midterms, Jim Grote was assuming the deed to a modest pizza kitchen on the city’s south side. He inherited the name "Donato's"—a bit of Latin doggerel for "to give a good thing"—and set about proving that a thin crust needn't be a stingy one.
The Gospel of the Edge
Mr. Grote’s philosophy was simple, bordering on the evangelical: the Golden Rule. He operated on the notion that a man should treat his neighbor’s appetite as his own. This manifested in what the locals now call the "Edge-to-Edge" philosophy. In an era where the industry standard was a wide, barren desert of doughy crust, Grote pushed his provolone and sausage to the very brink of the pan.
By the time the seventies rolled around, the Donatos square-cut slice had become a local shorthand for quality. It was a precision operation; he eventually insisted on no fewer than one hundred circles of pepperoni on every large pie, a decree that required a certain mechanical ingenuity. Indeed, Grote’s knack for the business was matched by his hand for machinery, later inventing slicing equipment that would become the envy of the trade.
The Golden Arches Intervene
The middle chapters of the Donatos story read like a lesson in corporate hubris. In 1999, the burger barons at McDonald’s Corporation, flush with capital and looking to colonize the dinner table, swooped in to purchase the Grote family jewel.
The match, however, was ill-fated. The fast-food giants found that a premium pizza—baked to order and handled with care—did not take kindly to the frantic pace of the drive-thru window. By 2003, the experiment had soured. In a move of cinematic timing, Jim Grote and his daughter, Jane, bought the company back, returning the flour-dusted apron to the family name.
A Midwest Institution
Today, the enterprise has matured far beyond that first south-side shop. Through a clever alliance with the Red Robin taverns, the Grote family has managed to plant their flag in some twenty-five states.
Yet, for all the growth and the modern logistics, the core of the thing remains unchanged since the Eisenhower years. It is a story of:
- The Thin Crust: Shunning the "breadiness" of the deep dish.
- The Pro-Veyor: Engineering a better way to slice a ham.
- The Family Table: A refusal to let a corporation dilute a local legacy.
One imagines Mr. Grote, even now, looking at a pizza and checking the corners. In Columbus, at least, the "good thing" is still being given.
And he does. The man, MR. Grote, just got trademarked and copyrighted for a new sauce dispenser in 2020! It was amazing touring the whole location; people speaking about "Jim" like he was about to come around the corner with a big smile. I seen how the process of making a Donato's pizza. As someone who has worked in different pizza spots around the Midwest and East Coast, I was amazed. They said no photos in Jane Dough's Innovation Center and with good reason. The innovation center is literally right next to the executive offices, a small meeting room dividing them. It was so symbolic of what they got going on and it shows in each bite of the pizza....- I know, I got one right after. Columbus, OH is a place where founders build things that feed the world. If you needed that reminder, there you are. Be Jim Grote. Make DeSales.
