July 19, 2002
Karl Armstrong passes through the doorway at 231 State Street like an apparition. It is March, and behind him, bitter winds sweep across Lake Mendota and Lake Monona, blasting the University of Wisconsin's flagship campus with cold as sharp as shrapnel.
Inside, a grill sizzles in the open kitchen. Sandwich makers load meat and cheese onto slabs of homemade bread. A neon sign certifies, in shades of pink, that this is Radical Rye, but no one pays much attention to the radical in the
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