How Chef Ryan Boone Transformed Shooters Into a Chef-Driven Restaurant

If reopening a  historic restaurant in one of Cleveland’s most notable locations is stressful, you wouldn’t know it by looking at chef Ryan Boone. 

Granted, it’s a Tuesday. Shooters is closed. The kitchen is empty. The sky over the Cuyahoga River is gray, dotted with seagulls. But when the doors open tomorrow, Boone’s staff must be prepared to feed more than 900 mouths, eager for a good first impression. 

Boone fires up a burner and the grill at the same time. He floats between charring confit octopus and sauteing clams before gloving his tattooed hands to toss broccoli with Caesar dressing, a funky take on the classic salad. Shooters’ new menu is “coastal Cleveland” cuisine, he says, putting a modern spin on dishes inspired by the restaurant’s past.

“We wanted to pay homage in our own funky way,” says Boone.

Roger Loecy and Dave Thomas — yes, of Wendy’s fame — opened Shooters on the Water in 1987, inspired by a restaurant of the same name in Florida. The riverfront restaurant has been known for a lot of things in its 40 years: riverfront views, a place to dock your boat, pool parties and a whole lot of debauchery, especially in the early days. 

Elevated, chef-driven food, at least over the last decade or two, has not been one of those things. 

“It definitely had a reputation for being more wild than inspired,” says Boone. 

But with alcohol consumption down among younger generations, blacked-out nights do not build a business anymore.  Shooter’s next era relies on changing that narrative. Putting Boone, a “your-favorite-chef’s-favorite-chef” kinda guy, at the helm is a good place to start.

“We wanted to keep that spirit of fun on the water, but bring it into the modern era,” Boone says. “Less of a day drinking spot, more of a place to grab a bite.”

Boone started cooking in his mid 20s at the now-shuttered Greenhouse Tavern. As a psychology student and registered behavioral therapist, who taught art to students on the autism spectrum at Cleveland’s STEPS Academy, Greenhouse was extra cash. But the creativity of Jonathon Sawyer’s James Beard Award-winning kitchen on East Fourth Street devoured him.

“It seemed so shocking to me that they would make their own mayonnaise,” says Boone. “The deeper down in the rabbit hole of the Greenhouse Tavern I went, the more I was like, I want to do this, this dying craft. You are somehow now in the line of people who are carrying on this tradition of making food from scratch.”

He worked his way up from pastry prep cook to pastry chef and sous chef, gaining the technical skills to match his ambition. He also met Vinnie Cimino, chef de cuisine. After Greenhouse closed and COVID decimated the restaurant industry, Cimino and Boone found themselves in the ether. Together, they navigated the difficult time. They opened Summer Place in Lakewood — six days before pandemic shutdowns. They launched Cleveland Family Meal, which hosted a food kitchen for out-of-work hospitality professionals (though they fed anyone who showed up) and a virtual pig roast benefit. They did consulting work and launched an acclaimed pop-up, FatBoy Sammies, with sandwiches and oatmeal cream pies bathed in comfortable nostalgia during a dark time. 

“All of that DIY, figuring things out as we went along, cooking for whoever would have us, set the stage for Cordelia,” Boone says.

In 2022, Cimino and proprietor Andrew Watts decided to open Cordelia in the former home of Lola’s Bistro, Michael Symon’s flagship restaurant, just a few addresses away from where they started at Greenhouse Tavern. Boone served as its first executive sous chef and pastry chef. He influenced many of the dishes still on the menu, including the Burger Box ($23), which has its roots in the FatBoy Sammies pop-up; the loaded bread portion of the menu; and the Bowl of Dirt ($14) on the dessert list.

“Ryan has great drive and brought extraordinary creativity and passion to Cordelia from the very beginning,” says Watts.

After leaving Cordelia last year, Boone went back to consulting and hosting themed pop-ups through his Chips and Dips Hospitality company. Shooters started as a consulting gig. About six months into the project, planning dishes and building out the kitchen, the ownership group, which has stayed hush-hush about its exact members but has received investments from Machine Gun Kelly, asked Boone join as executive chef.

Shooters reopened in March after nearly two years of closure. If you partied there in the ’90s, you’ll see a return to former glory with lots of rust shaken off. The Key West decor still defines the two-tiered dining room and rooftop bar. The reopened patio expands the space to 420 seats. Dockside boat service tends to 15 available slips, with to-go entrees, snacks and cocktails designed to get you back on the water. 

“Shooters is an iconic waterfront destination,” says Watts. “The combination of MGK’s camp and Ryan’s fun, thoughtful approach to food puts it in the best possible hands.”

Alongside nods to MGK and the past, Boone’s influence permeates the new Shooters. The merch sits well in his wardrobe of flat-brimmed hats, graphic tees and workwear coats. Boone not only constructed the menu but also did the graphic design, a skill he picked up during the pandemic and has employed throughout his consulting gigs. His recent foray into film photography inspired the grainy aesthetic of the restaurant’s marketing approach. For nostalgia — which has inspired Boone’s multi-platform work, including in his former band Hamilton Handshake — see the Rock ’Em Sock ’Em Robots that sit on tables across the dining room or the knickknacks, like his grandma’s pasta machine, on the wall.

“I’ve always found nostalgia useful in creative projects, figuring out how to present it in the modern day,” he says. “Whether it’s food traditions, what’s cool in clothes or music, we always look back to go forward.” 

When he started workshopping dishes, he had to admit something: Shooters is not Cordelia. The menu needed to be more populist and practical enough to quickly feed a high volume of customers. Anchored in the fried chicken and seafood of Shooters’ past, Boone has found a way to sneak imagination into plates that could be pedestrian. The octopus and roasted eggplant ($28), finished with Hungarian pistachio Romesco, points to the former fan-favorite calamari, but the gulf in ambition is wide. The coconut prawns ($22), another callback, add a pretty spicy green wasabi tobiko sauce to a typical fried shrimp dish. The grilled skewers ($17) come with a cucumber and chickpea salad, pickled veggies, and a pink beet yogurt, kicked up with sesame seasoning from local company Chutni Punch. Add a bump of caviar to anything — or slurp it right off your hand. 

If you grab a late dinner reservation, you’ll notice the energy shift. The bar gets a little more crowded. The lights get lower, the music gets louder and the boozier drinks flow faster. Some nights, concerts bring crowds  for rappers and DJs. The food stays in demand, though, a hunger that Boone is satisfying by serving a late-night menu of burgers, sandwiches and French bread pizzas from a wood-fired oven next to the bar. 

Blurring originality and familiarity, dinner and nightlife, inventiveness and safety, is a daunting trip. Few have made it out alive. None has attempted the journey on this big a scale. But if the waters look choppy, don’t tell Boone. For him, it’s smooth sailing.