Originally published in D-Tales here.
It's no secret--I like fine dining. And fine dining for less? GAME ON.
Detroit Synergy's popular Supper Club event has been touring all the fine dining establishments Detroit has to offer for a few years now, and has been giving diners deals on meals that would otherwise be pretty pricey (not to mention offering some much-needed and much-appreciated exposure to some of these struggling businesses). The menu is always specially-selected and prix fixe to include tax and gratuity, and it is always a bargain for anyone who participates (typically, to order all of the items a la carte at full price would cost anywhere from 50-150% more). Plus, it gives people the opportunity to discover new places and patron the city. Really, it's a win-win-win...-win.
"On Wednesday, April 30 from 6:00PM-8:00PM, Detroit Synergy will be hosting its April Supper Club event at Fusia, inside Asian Village. For only $30.00 per person (inclusive of tax and gratuity), Supper Clubbers will be able to experience a special four-course menu featuring some of Fusia’s most popular items. There will also be an additional wine package featuring two glasses of wine picked to pair with your meal available for only $10.00 more. Tickets are available by advance purchase only through the DSG store.
'The management of Fusia has selected a very fine four-course menu which gives diners a taste of what fine Asian dining at Fusia is all about:
'First Course:
Baby Shrimp Tempura with Creamy Chili Garlic Sauce
'Second Course:
Mixed Asian Greens with Tofu Croutons and Passionfruit Vinaigrette
'Third Course:
Togarashi-Encrusted Filet of Beef with Udon Noodles and Chinese Long Beans
'Fourth Course:
Asian Key Lime “Pie”
'Fusia inside Asian Village is fairly new to Detroit, but it is already redefining trendy Detroit dining. From the glass-enclosed entryway to the stylish Asian-influenced design and the tastefully done blue and green neon accent lighting, Fusia encompasses everything that makes high-end Asian dining and sushi bars the hotspots of choice for trend-conscious nightlife seekers. Having just played host to Detroit Fashion Week, as well as catering to high-end clientele with private parties (during the NAIAS Charity Preview, for example), Fusia inside Asian Village is quickly becoming known as the place to see and be seen for Detroiters looking for the latest trendy hangout.Top off their sleek Vegas-dinner-club-style ambiance with their impressive high-end Asian-fusion menu (the menu is unquestionably Asian-themed, but does borrow some heavy influences from cuisines all over the world—hence the name), and you’ve got a restaurant and party palace to rival all of the very best metro Detroit has to offer.
'Fusia inside Asian Village is located at 521 Atwater Street, next to the GM Renaissance Center and overlooking the Detroit River."
It's just too bad that they aren't offering their Duck Three Times entree at this discounted price: "Crispy Pekin duck breast, pomegranate molasses. Sesame duck confit, preserved green mango, salad of fresh herbs, Chinese chive-orange crepe. Seared Hudson Valley foie gras, black pepper and peach compote. $35.00." ZOMFGZ.
I must admit I have not dined at Fusia yet, so this is a great way to experience (somewhat inexpensively) what this place is like. But that duck...OMFG that duck...*droolikins*
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Brunching at La Dolce Vita and More Adventures on a Sunny Sunday
Originally published on D-Tales here.
Sunday was a BE-yoo-tee-ful day in the D--the temp actually broke 60 and it was well worth spending some time outdoors (especially since, in the tradition of cruel Michigan weather, the temps are supposed to drop back down into the 30s for the weekend and we might get more--wait for it--SNOW!).
I started my day in my favorite way--with brunch. My friends and I headed over to La Dolce Vita, which I must sheepishly admit was for my first time. I fell in love with the place immediately. From the high ceilings with exposed white brick and white plaster archways that comprise the main dining room, to the darker bar area the next section over which is like stepping into an old Italian's wine cellar (the wine is kept in an antique-looking large oak display cabinet against the wall, like something you would see in someone's home), the entire restaurant has a vibe like an unglamorous but charming Tuscan lunch spot.
There is a prominent Renaissance-style mural on the focus wall of the main restaurant area, and photographs of old Italian movie stars and Renaissance-style sketches dot the remaining walls. Two huge cement planters with Romanesque carvings greet you as you enter, and the place is lit (when not drenched in sunlight pouring in through the floor-to-ceiling windows that line the main dining area) with a number of twinkling chandeliers. The granite floors of the main entrance and dining room (as well as the banquet room) also help sustain the Tuscan vibe, but in the dimly-lit bar area the décor is less old-world Tuscanny and more old-world Detroit--a solid oak bar, half-moon booths in desperate need of reupholstering, and that awful floral-printed carpet in all deep jewel colors that are further darkened with years of the treading of dirty shoes that you see in any old restaurant, hotel lobby, or casino around the world.
But--there is a piano set up in the corner, and the music we were treated to was of the slightly-Cuban (mostly because of the bongos) jazz cafe variety, and the culture-assault of eating an American-style brunch in an old-world Italian restaurant with Havana-style jazz playing was more entertaining than it was off-putting. The slight dankness of the bar area does not detract from the charms of the rest of the place, and certainly not in the late spring and summertime when the beautiful outdoor patio (again--very Tuscan, with the stamped concrete and wrought iron cafe tables) is in full bloom, and patrons are surrounded by walls of trellised ivy. After a few moments here, you forget entirely that you are in the armpit of Detroit (and being at Woodward and McNichols, right next to the well-known after-hours spot and drug haven Numbers and kiddie-corner from the Deja Vu, it is the armpit--but at least not the asshole).
Actually, you don't even need to step inside to forget your surroundings--the entrance is in the back (and the place is kind of hard to find--no sign announces it from the street, except for a small neon "LDV" above the patio), as is the all-valet parking lot--and when you're surrounded by sparkling-clean Beamers, Hummers, Mercedes(es), and a Bentley, you might feel like you just crash-landed in Birmingham or West Bloomfield.
But this isn't just a hoighty-toighty rich-person secret spot--the crowd was a wonderful mix of people, from yuppies to buppies to hipsters to young couples...and a slightly disproportionate presence of gays (this fact was simply explained to me by my dining partners as "Gays like places like this"). It was nice to see people of all different races and backgrounds, families and singles, the rich and the not-so-much, all enjoying themselves together in this very cozy place. We foolishly stumbled in wearing jeans and T-shirts, and were extremely conscious of this once we saw the cars in the parking lot, but the majority of the patrons were similarly dressed and this isn't the kind of place that judges what you're wearing (at least not for Sunday brunch, anyway).
But I have yet to mention the food...for years I've been hearing about the unsurpassed greatness that is the stuffed French Toast, so I naturally gravitated towards that. OMFG. When three slices of their homemade bread that were each about 3 1/2 inches thick and oozing with mildly sweet and rich mascarpone cheese (the same cheese used in tiramisu--not very cheesy at all, more like custard on crack), coated in slightly-carmelized slices of sautéed bananas were placed in front of me, I just about had a bruchgasm. It was rich, and decadent, and flavorful, and perfect--possibly even better without the maple syrup, as the bananas provide all necessary sweetness. This dish is definitely worth its weight in buzz, and is probably one of the best brunching experiences I've ever had (there was that time in the Russian Tea Room in New York...that was better...not that I mean to brag...okay, yeah I do). Add to that some very tasty bacon, with a perfect salt-to-grease ratio, and bottomless mimosas (at $12.00, a steal), and I call this a damn-near-perfect brunch. Oh, and the bottomless mimosas (as well as the bottomless Bloody Marys) are refilled with pitchers, so you never have to wait for the server to bring you another glass--your mimosa as well as your water is never allowed to go empty, and that's attention to detail I do appreciate.
Service is attentive and prompt, even if you get an old Italian waiter you have a hard time understanding over the din of the noisy restaurant. Even as you wait for a table, the hostess is very gracious and gives you regular updates or your status, making sure you are still comfortable.
The prices are--well, they aren't low. $12.00 bottomless mimosas aside (which is pretty much the going rate in this city anyway, and still a steal), the majority of brunch meals are $9.95 and up, plus meat and potato sides are additional. This isn't the place to go for brunch on a budget (that's what Coneys are for), but moreso when brunch is worth a little splurge.
A quick glance at the dinner menu shows a whole lot of old-world-Italian-as-conceptualized-by-Americans fare--nothing too standout in the way of culinary creativity (I would guess they probably don't even staff a head chef, executive chef, sous chef, chef de cuisine, or whatever else you might want to call the typical mastermind behind creative menus with unique flavor and texture pairings and an artful presentation), but my guess is that it's all probably pretty damn good.
Oh, and I almost forgot the best part--some serious eye candy happened to come in whilst I was stuffing my face with stuffed French Toast. Tall, long unkempt wavy black hair, a day's worth of black stubble, soft brown eyes--think Adrian Grenier from Entourage only a little skinnier and perhaps even hotter. I spent the rest of our brunch gawking and trying not to giggle like a schoolgirl, despite the eye-rolling of my friends. The love bug struck me hard (or perhaps just some pent-up lust), but alas--I was feeling a little too "hair in a ponytail wearing a T-shirt and jeans with no makeup" and not quite enough "Let's approach a random guy while he brunches with two hipster-looking friends and give him my phone number for the singular and sole reason that I find him undeniably attractive and not so much because I care to find out more about his hopes and dreams" to pull off a ballsy move like that, so I just spent the rest of the day fantasizing about the hot guy I will never see again. *Sigh*
If anyone knows who I'm talking about, send him to this blog.
After our brunch, I demanded we do a drive-by my old alma mater, University of Detroit Mercy (we were right in the area). As we circled the campus, I pointed out all my old haunts--much to the eye-rolling of my friends. The KDR house, where much drunken debauchery occurred senior year. The gas stations we always bought our smokes. The Subway that we used to always walk to in the early hours of the morning because it was open super-late and we were drunk and hungry...until it burned to the ground (it has since be rebuilt). Briggs porch, where many hours were spent smoking. (It used to be referred to as my "office;" friends, other students, and professors alike would often walk by and say things like, "Are you STILL out here?" This is why I want my memorial marble ashtray there when I die, surely of something smoking-related.) Pied Piper Market, where much booze was bought. Detroit's Finest Coney Island (DFCI), formerly Detroit City Coney Time (DCCT), formerly Metro Grille (N/A), where lunch and sometimes dinner was had on a daily basis (yep--we knew all the cooks and waitstaff). I always referred to it by acronym, and at one point came up with an acronym that encompassed all three names...damned if I can remember it now though. (Detroit City's Finest Coney Island Metro Grille Time????) Oh, the memories.
After my little drive by memory lane, I dropped off my friends and headed home to the LT. Since it was so pleasant out, I decided to walk over to Greektown to check out the parade. The horn-heavy music blaring from the speakers could be heard across the freeway, and was deafening on Monroe St. The parade wasn't so much a "parade," in the sense of floats and costumes, but more a celebration of heritage and culture--mostly it was just people walking and waving the Greek flag, claiming their individual heritage (Macedonia, Athens, etc.) and representing their schools, churches, and Greek-based organizations. It was...loud, and probably more enjoyable if you yourself were Greek.
And so I took my Western European/North American white ass elsewhere, deciding that it was a good day to wander around the city.Do you remember that scene in Vanilla Sky in which Tom "I'm Not Gay I Just Like Having Sex With Men" Cruise is standing in the middle of Times Square and it is completely empty--no people, no cars, no movement, nothing? That's kind of like what Detroit feels like on a Sunday.
Most places are closed--bars, restaurants, lunch spots, retail stores, leasing offices, and pretty much anything else that would draw in warm bodies. Walking the streets of downtown proper, anywhere but along Woodward, you can hear the echoes of your own footsteps and are unlikely to have to worry about looking for cars before crossing the street. It's actually kind of eerie, but cool at the same time. The only foot traffic I passed once edging away from Greektown was a small group wearing Red Wings jerseys and a couple of guys wearing Tigers tees. Aside from that--it was like having a whole city to myself.
After a long afternoon of brunching and meandering, it was high time for nap time. On a closing note, do check out LDV whenever you get a chance--and if you see my hot Adrian Grenier-looking guy, tell him D-Tales is waiting.
(Oh, and for good measure, because I wouldn't fee right otherwise--went to Enoteca Saturday night, saw Stacey and John, love them, also some some familiar faces including a couple of local business owners and some forum peeps, good times, I <3 Enoteca.)
Sunday was a BE-yoo-tee-ful day in the D--the temp actually broke 60 and it was well worth spending some time outdoors (especially since, in the tradition of cruel Michigan weather, the temps are supposed to drop back down into the 30s for the weekend and we might get more--wait for it--SNOW!).
I started my day in my favorite way--with brunch. My friends and I headed over to La Dolce Vita, which I must sheepishly admit was for my first time. I fell in love with the place immediately. From the high ceilings with exposed white brick and white plaster archways that comprise the main dining room, to the darker bar area the next section over which is like stepping into an old Italian's wine cellar (the wine is kept in an antique-looking large oak display cabinet against the wall, like something you would see in someone's home), the entire restaurant has a vibe like an unglamorous but charming Tuscan lunch spot.
There is a prominent Renaissance-style mural on the focus wall of the main restaurant area, and photographs of old Italian movie stars and Renaissance-style sketches dot the remaining walls. Two huge cement planters with Romanesque carvings greet you as you enter, and the place is lit (when not drenched in sunlight pouring in through the floor-to-ceiling windows that line the main dining area) with a number of twinkling chandeliers. The granite floors of the main entrance and dining room (as well as the banquet room) also help sustain the Tuscan vibe, but in the dimly-lit bar area the décor is less old-world Tuscanny and more old-world Detroit--a solid oak bar, half-moon booths in desperate need of reupholstering, and that awful floral-printed carpet in all deep jewel colors that are further darkened with years of the treading of dirty shoes that you see in any old restaurant, hotel lobby, or casino around the world.
But--there is a piano set up in the corner, and the music we were treated to was of the slightly-Cuban (mostly because of the bongos) jazz cafe variety, and the culture-assault of eating an American-style brunch in an old-world Italian restaurant with Havana-style jazz playing was more entertaining than it was off-putting. The slight dankness of the bar area does not detract from the charms of the rest of the place, and certainly not in the late spring and summertime when the beautiful outdoor patio (again--very Tuscan, with the stamped concrete and wrought iron cafe tables) is in full bloom, and patrons are surrounded by walls of trellised ivy. After a few moments here, you forget entirely that you are in the armpit of Detroit (and being at Woodward and McNichols, right next to the well-known after-hours spot and drug haven Numbers and kiddie-corner from the Deja Vu, it is the armpit--but at least not the asshole).
Actually, you don't even need to step inside to forget your surroundings--the entrance is in the back (and the place is kind of hard to find--no sign announces it from the street, except for a small neon "LDV" above the patio), as is the all-valet parking lot--and when you're surrounded by sparkling-clean Beamers, Hummers, Mercedes(es), and a Bentley, you might feel like you just crash-landed in Birmingham or West Bloomfield.
But this isn't just a hoighty-toighty rich-person secret spot--the crowd was a wonderful mix of people, from yuppies to buppies to hipsters to young couples...and a slightly disproportionate presence of gays (this fact was simply explained to me by my dining partners as "Gays like places like this"). It was nice to see people of all different races and backgrounds, families and singles, the rich and the not-so-much, all enjoying themselves together in this very cozy place. We foolishly stumbled in wearing jeans and T-shirts, and were extremely conscious of this once we saw the cars in the parking lot, but the majority of the patrons were similarly dressed and this isn't the kind of place that judges what you're wearing (at least not for Sunday brunch, anyway).
But I have yet to mention the food...for years I've been hearing about the unsurpassed greatness that is the stuffed French Toast, so I naturally gravitated towards that. OMFG. When three slices of their homemade bread that were each about 3 1/2 inches thick and oozing with mildly sweet and rich mascarpone cheese (the same cheese used in tiramisu--not very cheesy at all, more like custard on crack), coated in slightly-carmelized slices of sautéed bananas were placed in front of me, I just about had a bruchgasm. It was rich, and decadent, and flavorful, and perfect--possibly even better without the maple syrup, as the bananas provide all necessary sweetness. This dish is definitely worth its weight in buzz, and is probably one of the best brunching experiences I've ever had (there was that time in the Russian Tea Room in New York...that was better...not that I mean to brag...okay, yeah I do). Add to that some very tasty bacon, with a perfect salt-to-grease ratio, and bottomless mimosas (at $12.00, a steal), and I call this a damn-near-perfect brunch. Oh, and the bottomless mimosas (as well as the bottomless Bloody Marys) are refilled with pitchers, so you never have to wait for the server to bring you another glass--your mimosa as well as your water is never allowed to go empty, and that's attention to detail I do appreciate.
Service is attentive and prompt, even if you get an old Italian waiter you have a hard time understanding over the din of the noisy restaurant. Even as you wait for a table, the hostess is very gracious and gives you regular updates or your status, making sure you are still comfortable.
The prices are--well, they aren't low. $12.00 bottomless mimosas aside (which is pretty much the going rate in this city anyway, and still a steal), the majority of brunch meals are $9.95 and up, plus meat and potato sides are additional. This isn't the place to go for brunch on a budget (that's what Coneys are for), but moreso when brunch is worth a little splurge.
A quick glance at the dinner menu shows a whole lot of old-world-Italian-as-conceptualized-by-Americans fare--nothing too standout in the way of culinary creativity (I would guess they probably don't even staff a head chef, executive chef, sous chef, chef de cuisine, or whatever else you might want to call the typical mastermind behind creative menus with unique flavor and texture pairings and an artful presentation), but my guess is that it's all probably pretty damn good.
Oh, and I almost forgot the best part--some serious eye candy happened to come in whilst I was stuffing my face with stuffed French Toast. Tall, long unkempt wavy black hair, a day's worth of black stubble, soft brown eyes--think Adrian Grenier from Entourage only a little skinnier and perhaps even hotter. I spent the rest of our brunch gawking and trying not to giggle like a schoolgirl, despite the eye-rolling of my friends. The love bug struck me hard (or perhaps just some pent-up lust), but alas--I was feeling a little too "hair in a ponytail wearing a T-shirt and jeans with no makeup" and not quite enough "Let's approach a random guy while he brunches with two hipster-looking friends and give him my phone number for the singular and sole reason that I find him undeniably attractive and not so much because I care to find out more about his hopes and dreams" to pull off a ballsy move like that, so I just spent the rest of the day fantasizing about the hot guy I will never see again. *Sigh*
If anyone knows who I'm talking about, send him to this blog.
After our brunch, I demanded we do a drive-by my old alma mater, University of Detroit Mercy (we were right in the area). As we circled the campus, I pointed out all my old haunts--much to the eye-rolling of my friends. The KDR house, where much drunken debauchery occurred senior year. The gas stations we always bought our smokes. The Subway that we used to always walk to in the early hours of the morning because it was open super-late and we were drunk and hungry...until it burned to the ground (it has since be rebuilt). Briggs porch, where many hours were spent smoking. (It used to be referred to as my "office;" friends, other students, and professors alike would often walk by and say things like, "Are you STILL out here?" This is why I want my memorial marble ashtray there when I die, surely of something smoking-related.) Pied Piper Market, where much booze was bought. Detroit's Finest Coney Island (DFCI), formerly Detroit City Coney Time (DCCT), formerly Metro Grille (N/A), where lunch and sometimes dinner was had on a daily basis (yep--we knew all the cooks and waitstaff). I always referred to it by acronym, and at one point came up with an acronym that encompassed all three names...damned if I can remember it now though. (Detroit City's Finest Coney Island Metro Grille Time????) Oh, the memories.
After my little drive by memory lane, I dropped off my friends and headed home to the LT. Since it was so pleasant out, I decided to walk over to Greektown to check out the parade. The horn-heavy music blaring from the speakers could be heard across the freeway, and was deafening on Monroe St. The parade wasn't so much a "parade," in the sense of floats and costumes, but more a celebration of heritage and culture--mostly it was just people walking and waving the Greek flag, claiming their individual heritage (Macedonia, Athens, etc.) and representing their schools, churches, and Greek-based organizations. It was...loud, and probably more enjoyable if you yourself were Greek.
And so I took my Western European/North American white ass elsewhere, deciding that it was a good day to wander around the city.Do you remember that scene in Vanilla Sky in which Tom "I'm Not Gay I Just Like Having Sex With Men" Cruise is standing in the middle of Times Square and it is completely empty--no people, no cars, no movement, nothing? That's kind of like what Detroit feels like on a Sunday.
Most places are closed--bars, restaurants, lunch spots, retail stores, leasing offices, and pretty much anything else that would draw in warm bodies. Walking the streets of downtown proper, anywhere but along Woodward, you can hear the echoes of your own footsteps and are unlikely to have to worry about looking for cars before crossing the street. It's actually kind of eerie, but cool at the same time. The only foot traffic I passed once edging away from Greektown was a small group wearing Red Wings jerseys and a couple of guys wearing Tigers tees. Aside from that--it was like having a whole city to myself.
After a long afternoon of brunching and meandering, it was high time for nap time. On a closing note, do check out LDV whenever you get a chance--and if you see my hot Adrian Grenier-looking guy, tell him D-Tales is waiting.
(Oh, and for good measure, because I wouldn't fee right otherwise--went to Enoteca Saturday night, saw Stacey and John, love them, also some some familiar faces including a couple of local business owners and some forum peeps, good times, I <3 Enoteca.)
Monday, March 24, 2008
Goodbye, New Hella's
Originally published in D-Tales here.
Yesterday was the final day of operation for Greektown mainstay New Hella's (at least, as we know it).
After 107 years in business, the restaurant around which Greektown was built (not to mention the restaurant that inspired the opening of their own competitors), has finally closed its doors. Why? Well, there is much speculation on that, but after sifting through the rumors for useful information, it sounds like it simply comes down to one thing: owner Gus Anton is old.
He's 80. He's been doing this since birth. He's tired. He's old.
But being old doesn't mean he's dumb. This from the rumor mill: Hella's was actually sold off for quite a chunk of change, and was already operating under the new ownership as of this weekend.
Apparently the location will remain a restaurant, though whether or not it remains a Greek restaurant is still unknown.
Either way, it is still sad to see the old owners, and original family, step down. New Hella's is a bit of Detroit history, and helped shape the popular Greektown area of downtown proper, providing a central zone of business and pleasure for Greek immigrants, and introducing Detroiters to authentic Greek cuisine. Still, sometimes progress requires change (a little bit of "out with the old"), so let's hope the new owners can make this spot as legendary as the old ones did.
Yesterday was the final day of operation for Greektown mainstay New Hella's (at least, as we know it).
After 107 years in business, the restaurant around which Greektown was built (not to mention the restaurant that inspired the opening of their own competitors), has finally closed its doors. Why? Well, there is much speculation on that, but after sifting through the rumors for useful information, it sounds like it simply comes down to one thing: owner Gus Anton is old.
He's 80. He's been doing this since birth. He's tired. He's old.
But being old doesn't mean he's dumb. This from the rumor mill: Hella's was actually sold off for quite a chunk of change, and was already operating under the new ownership as of this weekend.
Apparently the location will remain a restaurant, though whether or not it remains a Greek restaurant is still unknown.
Either way, it is still sad to see the old owners, and original family, step down. New Hella's is a bit of Detroit history, and helped shape the popular Greektown area of downtown proper, providing a central zone of business and pleasure for Greek immigrants, and introducing Detroiters to authentic Greek cuisine. Still, sometimes progress requires change (a little bit of "out with the old"), so let's hope the new owners can make this spot as legendary as the old ones did.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Remembering Twingo's
The other night I was out at Tuesday Nights Doggystyle at the Park Bar and got into a discussion about Detroit's favorite former Euro Cafe, Twingo's.
Ah, what a great spot that was. The vibe was just so terribly, terribly eclectic, and the food was fantastic. It appealed to both the artsy Midtowners and suburban food snobs alike. With Depeche Mode on the speakers, local art adorning the walls, and a menu to rival any big-city bistro, Twingo's just had a vibe that was unique unto itself and Detroit. Oh, and the Steak Au Poivre with gorgonzola butter? Tres magnifique.
I thought the prices were very reasonable for the caliber and quality of the restaurant, though that was the subject of some debate. Comparable to places like Union Street in pricing, only far superior in quality and presentation, and with a French-heavy wine list with few selections topping $30.00, the Twingo's experience was a real value, and a great way to endcap an evening at the Theatre.
And people loved it. Twingo's was all the rage when it was open before...then it closed. And it was sad. Then it reopened! New management, a remodel, and still a great menu...so what happened to close it down once again, and apparently once and for all?
John Lopez is what happened. He's the guy who was hired on to manage Atlas Global Bistro a few years back and almost got them closed down. (Two years later and they're still paying up back taxes that went unpaid during his tenure there.) Then Twingo's reopened, and hired him on--purportedly he's a great ideas guy, but not so great with the whole "business" aspect. Not too long later and Twingo's closed its doors, and why? Back-owed taxes. Either Lopez isn't aware that these are things that need to get paid and he, as the general manager, needs to make sure they get paid, or he just doesn't like to pay them. (Incidentally, this is the same reason the Buzz Bar closed--and has still not reopened.) Regardless, John Lopez seems to have the Midas Touch of Death for any restaurant that takes him in. I feel bad for the next sucker who hires him based on his "impressive" resume without doing a thorough background check--it's not just his bad luck that keeps getting restaurants closed around him. I mean really, at one point does it stop being everyone else and start being you, John?
[SIDEBAR: Agave was another one of Lopez's great ideas--and I'm not being facetious, it really was great, and apparently their closure had little to do with his management...some pissing contest with the landlord, or something. It would be great to see that place reopen. Lopez really is a great ideas guy...just not so good at making like a manager.]
The loss of Twingo's saddened me deeply. This really was one of Detroit's dining gems. I suppose we can only hope for a third-time's-the-charm scenario, but from what I understand it isn't very likely. I guess I'll have to find somewhere else that makes a panna cotta with Faygo sauce. *Sigh*
Ah, what a great spot that was. The vibe was just so terribly, terribly eclectic, and the food was fantastic. It appealed to both the artsy Midtowners and suburban food snobs alike. With Depeche Mode on the speakers, local art adorning the walls, and a menu to rival any big-city bistro, Twingo's just had a vibe that was unique unto itself and Detroit. Oh, and the Steak Au Poivre with gorgonzola butter? Tres magnifique.
I thought the prices were very reasonable for the caliber and quality of the restaurant, though that was the subject of some debate. Comparable to places like Union Street in pricing, only far superior in quality and presentation, and with a French-heavy wine list with few selections topping $30.00, the Twingo's experience was a real value, and a great way to endcap an evening at the Theatre.
And people loved it. Twingo's was all the rage when it was open before...then it closed. And it was sad. Then it reopened! New management, a remodel, and still a great menu...so what happened to close it down once again, and apparently once and for all?
John Lopez is what happened. He's the guy who was hired on to manage Atlas Global Bistro a few years back and almost got them closed down. (Two years later and they're still paying up back taxes that went unpaid during his tenure there.) Then Twingo's reopened, and hired him on--purportedly he's a great ideas guy, but not so great with the whole "business" aspect. Not too long later and Twingo's closed its doors, and why? Back-owed taxes. Either Lopez isn't aware that these are things that need to get paid and he, as the general manager, needs to make sure they get paid, or he just doesn't like to pay them. (Incidentally, this is the same reason the Buzz Bar closed--and has still not reopened.) Regardless, John Lopez seems to have the Midas Touch of Death for any restaurant that takes him in. I feel bad for the next sucker who hires him based on his "impressive" resume without doing a thorough background check--it's not just his bad luck that keeps getting restaurants closed around him. I mean really, at one point does it stop being everyone else and start being you, John?
[SIDEBAR: Agave was another one of Lopez's great ideas--and I'm not being facetious, it really was great, and apparently their closure had little to do with his management...some pissing contest with the landlord, or something. It would be great to see that place reopen. Lopez really is a great ideas guy...just not so good at making like a manager.]
The loss of Twingo's saddened me deeply. This really was one of Detroit's dining gems. I suppose we can only hope for a third-time's-the-charm scenario, but from what I understand it isn't very likely. I guess I'll have to find somewhere else that makes a panna cotta with Faygo sauce. *Sigh*
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Plaka Cafe: Still Open, Still Disgusting
Originally published in D-Tales here.
$1.5 million dollars in tax evasion later, and the Plaka Cafe is still open. Now, who knows how long this will last--the owners could go the route of La Shish and flee the country with a few mil. (Actually, they can't--they've already been arraigned and are currently out on bail--and I GAR-RON-TEE you they can't leave the country, much less the state.) When the feds raided the place in December of 2006, they found more than $700,000 in cash stashed away inside the restaurant. Further investigation yielded a decade's worth of unfiled taxes. If owners Thomas Karadimas and Constantinos Karadimas are found guilty of all pending charges, this will turn out to be the largest case of tax evasion in Michigan's history (take THAT, La Shish!).
Late-night drunken diners, fear not: Plaka Cafe remains open at this time, though one can always speculate if it will remain so if both owners end up in the clink. After an evening of heavy boozing, one can still hit up this 24-hour coney island for some of the best worst food in Detroit.
No, really, the food here is actually quite nasty, but since it is really one of the only late-night options in the city, they maintain a very steady client base of hungry drunks.
(WHY you wouldn't just hit up White Castle is beyond me. There's one on Michigan Ave., not too far west of downtown proper. If you're in Midtown, there's McDonald's. And don't give me that "I don't want to drive anywhere" crap--how the hell else are you getting home to the 'burbs?)
From the rumor mill: apparently Plaka, much like many of the other spots in Greektown, has rumored Greek mob ties...I know, I know, I've been flinging around a lot of mob accusations lately, but apparently if there's one thing that our culturally diverse metropolitan area is good at, it's crime syndicates and terrorist affiliations. I can't make this shit up, people. No wonder our local FBI branch needs a new building...
Also from the rumor mill: apparently there was a Blind Pig upstairs? As in, drinking in a public place illegally after hours and witnessing all sorts of illegal dealings in the form of gambling, drugs, and perhaps even prositution? I wanna see; I wanna see!!!!
$1.5 million dollars in tax evasion later, and the Plaka Cafe is still open. Now, who knows how long this will last--the owners could go the route of La Shish and flee the country with a few mil. (Actually, they can't--they've already been arraigned and are currently out on bail--and I GAR-RON-TEE you they can't leave the country, much less the state.) When the feds raided the place in December of 2006, they found more than $700,000 in cash stashed away inside the restaurant. Further investigation yielded a decade's worth of unfiled taxes. If owners Thomas Karadimas and Constantinos Karadimas are found guilty of all pending charges, this will turn out to be the largest case of tax evasion in Michigan's history (take THAT, La Shish!).
Late-night drunken diners, fear not: Plaka Cafe remains open at this time, though one can always speculate if it will remain so if both owners end up in the clink. After an evening of heavy boozing, one can still hit up this 24-hour coney island for some of the best worst food in Detroit.
No, really, the food here is actually quite nasty, but since it is really one of the only late-night options in the city, they maintain a very steady client base of hungry drunks.
(WHY you wouldn't just hit up White Castle is beyond me. There's one on Michigan Ave., not too far west of downtown proper. If you're in Midtown, there's McDonald's. And don't give me that "I don't want to drive anywhere" crap--how the hell else are you getting home to the 'burbs?)
From the rumor mill: apparently Plaka, much like many of the other spots in Greektown, has rumored Greek mob ties...I know, I know, I've been flinging around a lot of mob accusations lately, but apparently if there's one thing that our culturally diverse metropolitan area is good at, it's crime syndicates and terrorist affiliations. I can't make this shit up, people. No wonder our local FBI branch needs a new building...
Also from the rumor mill: apparently there was a Blind Pig upstairs? As in, drinking in a public place illegally after hours and witnessing all sorts of illegal dealings in the form of gambling, drugs, and perhaps even prositution? I wanna see; I wanna see!!!!
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Zaccaro's Still Set to Open
Originally published in D-Tales here.
After some general hullabaloo over liquor licensing for retail sales and some very technical blah blah blah legalese, Zaccaro's Market is still set to open this month. March 31st is the date (yes, that's also the Tigers Home Opener, so plan accordingly), and as far as owner Cindy Warner has been instructed, this date is solid. The licensing needed to sell beer and wine on the premises should be in place, and all will be well in the world of gourmet grocery shopping in the D.
As noted before, there will be an impressive selection of imported meats and cheeses, a full-scale bakery, a center kitchen area at which cooking classes will be offered, pre-made meals prepared by executive chefs, and more to tickle your culinary delights.
After some fear that the opening would be held up indefinitely, it appears that everything is finally in place...I'll see you at the cheese counter!
After some general hullabaloo over liquor licensing for retail sales and some very technical blah blah blah legalese, Zaccaro's Market is still set to open this month. March 31st is the date (yes, that's also the Tigers Home Opener, so plan accordingly), and as far as owner Cindy Warner has been instructed, this date is solid. The licensing needed to sell beer and wine on the premises should be in place, and all will be well in the world of gourmet grocery shopping in the D.
As noted before, there will be an impressive selection of imported meats and cheeses, a full-scale bakery, a center kitchen area at which cooking classes will be offered, pre-made meals prepared by executive chefs, and more to tickle your culinary delights.
After some fear that the opening would be held up indefinitely, it appears that everything is finally in place...I'll see you at the cheese counter!
Monday, March 3, 2008
La Shish No More
Originally published in D-Tales here; edited for content.
Popular Middle Eastern restaurant chain La Shish closed its doors yesterday. 11 metro Detroit locations, the Dearborn headquarters, and 305 employees were affected by this decision. After nearly 3 years of bad publicity and whispered ties to Hezbollah (defined by the American government as a Lebanese terrorist group), the chain finally went under due to nearly $12 million dollars in owed taxes.
When the feds raided the home and headquarters of owner Talal Chahine in April 2005 seeking evidence of tax fraud, Chahine fled the country with $20 million skimmed from the business to dodge his indictment, sticking his wife, Elfat Al Aouar, to face both the tax evasion charges as well as her own charge of immigration fraud (turns out that the marriage wasn't one based on love and committment--and I guess when you marry someone to help them get a green card, it's morally acceptable to bail on them when you're slapped with some serious federal offenses).
Since then, the restaurant chain has been at the center of some serious rumor-mongering, with the purported Hezbollah ties causing the most gasps. Just last week, El Auoar was sentenced to 90 days in jail for immigration fraud, to be served consecutively with an 18-month sentence for tax evasion. Her citizenship was, naturally, revoked. Ah, the things we'll do for love. Or, the things we'll do for a green card when your husband flees the country and leaves you standing there with a dumbfounded expression on your face as the feds raid your home.
[Edit]
Getting back on topic (I'm a big fan of the digressive rant), it's a shame La Shish had to close. This restaurant chain popularized Middle Eastern cuisine for the non-Middle Easterners of metro Detroit, and was quickly becoming a staple in the diet of many metro Detroiters (in the Free Press article, a woman is interviewed bemoaning her loss, saying "Now what am I going to eat?", and I know many others who will say the same). It was just one more thing that made our metro area more of a cultural melting pot...now it's just one more thing to give Detroit a bad rep.
I will miss the Fatoush, though.
Popular Middle Eastern restaurant chain La Shish closed its doors yesterday. 11 metro Detroit locations, the Dearborn headquarters, and 305 employees were affected by this decision. After nearly 3 years of bad publicity and whispered ties to Hezbollah (defined by the American government as a Lebanese terrorist group), the chain finally went under due to nearly $12 million dollars in owed taxes.
When the feds raided the home and headquarters of owner Talal Chahine in April 2005 seeking evidence of tax fraud, Chahine fled the country with $20 million skimmed from the business to dodge his indictment, sticking his wife, Elfat Al Aouar, to face both the tax evasion charges as well as her own charge of immigration fraud (turns out that the marriage wasn't one based on love and committment--and I guess when you marry someone to help them get a green card, it's morally acceptable to bail on them when you're slapped with some serious federal offenses).
Since then, the restaurant chain has been at the center of some serious rumor-mongering, with the purported Hezbollah ties causing the most gasps. Just last week, El Auoar was sentenced to 90 days in jail for immigration fraud, to be served consecutively with an 18-month sentence for tax evasion. Her citizenship was, naturally, revoked. Ah, the things we'll do for love. Or, the things we'll do for a green card when your husband flees the country and leaves you standing there with a dumbfounded expression on your face as the feds raid your home.
[Edit]
Getting back on topic (I'm a big fan of the digressive rant), it's a shame La Shish had to close. This restaurant chain popularized Middle Eastern cuisine for the non-Middle Easterners of metro Detroit, and was quickly becoming a staple in the diet of many metro Detroiters (in the Free Press article, a woman is interviewed bemoaning her loss, saying "Now what am I going to eat?", and I know many others who will say the same). It was just one more thing that made our metro area more of a cultural melting pot...now it's just one more thing to give Detroit a bad rep.
I will miss the Fatoush, though.
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