Jeff Ruby. Speak those two words together in any other town, and you might receive an indifferent shrug, a so-what glance.
In Cincinnati, another matter. Jeff Ruby.

In a rare series of two-hour-long, sit-down conversations, Ruby—the restaurateur by trade, the raconteur by life's trade—reflects on his career experience as he nears 60. The initial interview begins as he’s drinking coffee out of a water glass while twirling an unlit cigar in his hand. It’s about noon at Jeff Ruby’s restaurant, but the place is eerily quiet because, of course, Ruby's doesn’t serve lunch. Ever.
 

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