There aren’t many places in metro Detroit where you can get a shot of illy® espresso at 6 a.m., then end your night with shots of limoncello at 2 a.m. Torino Espresso + Bar in Ferndale is in a class by itself there. Childhood friends Noah Dorfman, Samer Abdallah and Jim Culliton wanted Torino to be the kind of coffee bar-meets-BAR bar hangout popular all over Europe but rare to find in the States (and almost unheard of in metro Detroit).
“We wanted to be able to showcase this European experience that metro Detroit really doesn’t have,” says Dorfman. “It’s been really nice [to be able to do that]. Some people come in here with their laptop and order a martini; you can’t do that at Starbucks.”
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There is a certain kind of restaurant that is neither neighborhood diner nor flashy fine dining, but exists somewhere in a weirdly indefinable food purgatory in-between. These places are dark and rarely have interior windows; the décor dates back to whenever the place was built (which could be anywhere from 20 to 50 years ago); the food would be considered American by the standards of when "American" fine dining was heavily influenced by French cuisine and all that really existed in the country's culinary oeuvre were steakhouses and burger joints.
They serve frog legs, filet mignon and planked fish usually in rich, creamy, butter-based sauces, specialize in tableside Caesar salads and chateaubriand, and serve oysters in various incarnations as staple items. These places are remnants of a bygone era in American dining history ... and more often than not, so is their clientele. These are the blue hair restaurants, serving up "old people food" to our most revered elders.
Kickers All American Grill.
I remember having a conversation years ago with Diane Geiger TenHoopen about how a restaurant's French onion soup is the litmus test for the overall quality of the place itself--the richness of the broth, the sogginess of the bread, whether they use Swiss or provolone cheese--the devil is in the details, and if a restaurant can't get their FOS down then there's not much hope for the rest of the menu. When I decided the world needed an EID Hot List on FOS, I contacted Diane immediately. She previously authored a blog that was dedicated entirely to French onion soup (called FrenchyO!), and I knew with our shared passion for FOS she would understand just how important it was to get this list absolutely right. Her assistance has been invaluable.
#1 The Brewery (Clinton Township)
The Brewery is a huge facility located at 17 Mile Rd. and Hayes in the heart of Clinton Township, an area not exactly known for dining refinement. The inside is dimly lit and yes, there are a lot of blue hairs here. The Brewery never ends up on any "best of" lists and isn't typically named among the local "foodie" favorites (its location in Macomb County doesn't help it gain new fans either, as popular opinion seems to hold that the world is flat east of Mound), but the French-inspired American food is fantastic (helloooooo escargot) and the FOS unmatched. The cheese bubbles over and drips down the sides of the crock bowl in buttery gobs, and the Brewery nails what many places seems to overlook: proper gratinization (with bread crumbs and butter along with the melted cheese). The top is browned and bubbled with a slight crunch from the bread crumbs; don't be ashamed to pick the cheese from the sides of the bowl.
#2 Kiernan's Steak House (Dearborn)
Kiernan's has been a Detroit tradition for nearly 50 years, a small remnant of early 20th century Irish heritage in the now markedly more ethnically diverse city of Dearborn. At this point it's something of a stodgy old steakhouse--the interior is DARK, there's fringed overhanging lights, faux Tiffany shades, lots and lots of wood paneling. It's dated but it's so dated that it has that retro hip potential ... speaking of hips, you'll hope the senior sentinels guarding the bar don't throw any out, but they're a jolly drinking crowd and the staff and stool fixtures all seem to know each other quite well. Prime rib is Kiernan's specialty, but their FOS is pretty tough to beat--very rich broth, hearty bread thoroughly soaked, bubbled and crisped Swiss cheese. They also have a small but respectable selection of Michigan craft beer (peep the Soft Parade in the pic), and upstairs is the more modern Silky's Martini Bar, which has a hell of a happy hour.
Weber's Inn.
#3 Weber's Inn (Ann Arbor)
Weber's Inn is the grand dame of all the old area institutions. It's been around for 75 years now and has managed to evolve with the times enough to stay relevant and popular with each generation (the different sections of the restaurant have a combined capacity of some 500 seats, and they still fill up on weekends), but not so much that there aren't still comfortable, familiar items that haven't changed much over the years ... particularly their prime rib, which they sell more of than any other restaurant in Michigan. Inside is a mix of modern (Habitat Lounge) and rustic Bavarian (the main dining room), and they even have their own sophisticated boutique hotel attached. This place is a true destination, and the FOS meets the same high standards of quality and excellence of execution as the rest of their menu.
#4 Redcoat Tavern (Royal Oak)
True, it's a burger joint, but it's so much more than that. A very dark, very comfortable British-style pub, they serve British-style pub food like beer cheese and Scotch eggs along with their multi-award-winning burgers (voted "Best in Detroit" by various publications over 60 times). They also have a phenomenal list of European beers for proper pubbing. Their FOS is solid and served piping hot; try it with Short's Publican Porter on tap while they've still got it.
#5 Lucy's Tavern on the Hill(Grosse Pointe)
Everywhere else mentioned here has certain specialties and good French onion soup. At Lucy's Tavern on the Hill, their specialty is French onion soup. They say the broth is "labored over" daily and they serve over 20 gallons of FOS every week. Patrons come out specifically for the FOS, which is made with caramelized Spanish onions simmered in beef broth, dry sherry and herb sachet, finished with garlic crostini and a gratin of provolone cheese. At $2.95 for a cup and $3.95 for a bowl, this is probably also some of the least expensive FOS you'll find.
Bubbling under Cadieux Cafe (Detroit), The Oxford Inn (Royal Oak), Terry's Terrace (Harrison Township), Max and Erma's (various locations), The French Gourmet (Ferndale), Mr. Paul's Chop House (Roseville), The Chop House (Ann Arbor), Peabody's (Birmingham), Kickers All American Grill (Livonia), Bath City Bistro (Mt. Clemens), The Hill Seafood and Chophouse (Grosse Pointe Farms), Bogartz Sports and Music Cafe (Detroit), Merriman Street Grill (Romulus)
Perkins Pickles at Rust Belt Market. Photo by Nicole Rupersburg.
Rumored to be a lucky food (for anyone who has a six-year-old jar of "lucky" pickles in the fridge), a hangover cure (especially true when speared into a Bloody Mary), and now the latest trend to get skewered by IFC's Portlandia, pickles are all the rage. As the momentum of artisan food movements across the country continues to barrel forward, there is a subset of makers interested in traditional food preservation methods. From home canning to charcuterie clubs to self-professed picklers and briners, centuries-old techniques are au courant, and we've got more than a hand-full of artisanal pickle producers right here in metro Detroit.
Dave Graw and Derek Swanson are solid dudes. So what is a "solid dude"? It's kind of like, when you meet someone, and you have this moment of "Gasp I love you!" because even though you don't know really know them what you know of them already by just meeting them you know is awesome. "Solid," if you will. It's kind of like that.
Dave illustrates his point by talking about some guys that he and Derek once had a gig with in Grand Rapids. (The Dudes make a lot of connections between music and food. It makes sense; just roll with it.) They had never met each other and before any of them got onstage to play, they bro-bonded immediately. "I don’t care about what we are, we gave a shit about what we played whether they liked it or not, whether it was good or not, we cared. The guy [later told me that he said to himself], 'Holy shit, we gotta fucking give it,' and they did--[these guys are awesome AND they have an awesome band]--and afterwards we’re all hugging, and that started a beautiful friendship. You know, I met you guys and just had that moment of, 'Alright, right on.' It was a good feeling. It’s a like-minded respect; you’re there honestly playing music because you have to."
Derek: "Not because you're trying to get signed; not because you’re trying to get laid."
Dave: "Green Dot Stables is catering [the Season Two DVD release party]. They contacted us. They're just doing it because they have to.
Derek: "It's two guys who sunk their own money in with no backing."
Dave: "Just like McClure's; they had a a family recipe, they HAVE to make pickles."
Derek [speaking as if he were Joe McClure]: "'I HAVE to take cucumbers and put salt on them' – fuck yes you do!"
Dave: "That's what's awesome about Detroit, people do things because they have to. For Derek and I right now we have to make a cooking show."
Derek [explains that prior to the pickle business, Joe McClure was working in the very lucrative field of post-production]: "Joe saw he could make millions in post-production and said, 'That’s great; I have to put salt on pickles.'"
Dave: "I love him. I don’t know him, but I love him. He's rad. His pickles are rad, and he’s rad."
And that is the essence of what it means to be a "solid dude." Basically, you're a good guy and your band is good too.
Dave: "Dave Mancini [of Supino Pizzeria] is a good dude and his band doesn’t suck. Joe is a really good dude and his band is awesome."
And really that's what Solid Dudes Kitchen is all about. It's a cooking show, but not one you could ever realistically cook along with. But that's not what's important. What's important about the show and what makes it so damn enjoyable to watch is the camaraderie between Dave and Derek (every bit as evident on camera as it is in real life), two dudes who played in a band together and both work in commercial film and video production who got this crazy idea to start a cooking show for shits and giggles.
Dave: "When two assholes who look like us have a show people assume the wrong things about us. When we met, it was like, 'I want to hang out with you.' It’s about friends. We’re friends. What came out of [the show] was an honest depiction of what we do."
The episodes are short, a decision they made because they found they are much more entertaining in smaller bursts.
Derek: "We both work in film, 98% of it being advertising, 98% of that being commercials. On any given day we work with multi-million dollar productions. It's one of the best film schools because its super-pragmatic; art is probably fourth[-ranked] on a list of 10 [criteria] because they need to sell things – 'What is the quickest way to sell things to stupid people?' – so we skip the boring shit, that’s why you can’t 'cook along.'"
Dave: "But if you want to make mac and cheese you’re going to sit and open up a recipe book. That’s not what we’re trying to do; we’re trying to hang out, spend time together, and share some of what we think is funny with other people. What I like about the Internet is that niche cultures can be niche and that’s exciting. I think we have a niche and we have an area we can operate in comfortably."
They may have a niche audience but it certainly seems to encompass a big chunk of Detroit. Their Season Two DVD release party on Thursday night at the Belle Isle Casino was packed; other of Detroit's solid dudes provided food, drinks, projection and music (Green Dot Stables, Sugar House, Corktown Cinema and DJ Michael Trombley, respectively). Whether it's because of who they are and what they represent, or just because people think the show is funny, Dave and Derek are surrounded by other like-minded individuals with that same DIY spirit and drive to create and do something fun.
Dave says, "I think that’s the key to life, just don’t stop—everyone we surround ourselves with just doesn’t stop." Derek interjects, "I'll quote Earthmover: 'It’s not about money.'" (Earthmover was a hardcore band from Michigan.) Dave continues, "We just kind of end up gravitating towards these people. It’s terrifying but it's also motivating--look how much that guy’s done, look at that guy’s blog where he's giving music away for free [because he just needs to make music].
'I like when people are doing it just to do it; there’s no endgame, just to do it. We’re gonna do it until it’s not fun or funny for us or our friends." The Dudes have had sponsorship offers in the past, all of which they've turned down. Dave references the movie Airheads and how the guys wouldn't bow down to the sleazy record executive who didn't care at all about their music, even in the face of a record deal. "They just wanted their demo back so people could hear it, so he rips up the contract ... they had people interested but what’s the point if you don’t know who we are? We're like punk rock snobs [turning down opportunities for money]."
Because for them, the second it stops being fun--which could happen the very second they had to answer to a suit waiving a check--is the second the show is done. And for them, to anyone who sits around and waits for someone else to fund their vanity project, Dave says, "Fuck you." Derek adds, "Had we waited for someone else to fund our project it probably wouldn’t have happened."
It might not seems the most natural thing for musicians to be "into" cooking. Au contraire, sayeth the Dudes. "Musicians, artists and chefs are all really similar people," Dave says. "Being younger you don’t really know that, you don’t relate with an artist when you’re into punk rock, but as you get older and become more aware of your surroundings, everything is everything and it's all the same. The art of food preparation is like writing a good song, it's all composition and structure. Once you understand the notes are just like ingredients, making a good pasta is like writing a pop song."
Derek: "I think the common denominator with chefs and musicians is that you know that to do what you’re doing as a career, you’re probably not going to make a million dollars. If you’re going to do it you have to love it. To have a chef tell us, 'We really love you, we love what you're doing,' it's like, 'Fuck, you do this for a living, we're doing this as a joke but only because we want to do what you’re doing."
People (even chefs; possibly even particularly chefs) appreciate their honesty--they admit they have no idea what they're doing (not entirely true: Derek has some culinary chops; Dave happily admits he does not but that he likes eating--touché), but they have fun doing it. At they end of it they hope it inspires you to get together and get drunk with your friends and try out some stupid shit and maybe fuck up and laugh and have a good time.
Derek: "That was Dave’s thing – let’s hang out, drink our faces off, laugh our asses off and make a show."
Dave: "I can’t stay at home and watch the finale of Battlestar Galactica a third time and feel good about myself."
So just how solid are the Solid Dudes? They've received one piece of hate mail since season 1 premiered in 2009. That letter came from a Detroit priest who saw their cover on the Metro Times of them covered in baked beans. In it, this priest accused the Dudes of being reckless and wasteful that at a time when so many people were out of work, struggling and starving that they would waste food like that for a photo (note: it wasn't their idea). So they started looking up more info on this priest, and found out that over the decades he's been a huge activist, the kind of guy who stood in front of military tanks to protest the Vietnam War; THAT kind of guy. "I started to like him!" Dave says. "He's doing way more than we're ever going to do." Derek adds, "He's kind of fucking cool."
So they hosted the Solid Dudes Kitchen canned food drive, and took all the money and food they collected and dropped it off to that same priest, who had no idea it was coming. And so I ask, are these dudes solid? Fuck yes they are.
"If you put in good, it comes out good," Dave says. "It's just like a crock pot. That's an analogy for life: you put good shit in there and it comes out tasting good."
Season 2 of Solid Dudes Kitchen is now available for purchase on DVD, featuring the Solid Dudes German special "Dudes Hast." It will probably be another two and a half years before we see another season but cut them some slack, they have lives, jobs, wives and families, and they're not getting paid to do this. To get your fill of the Dudes in between seasons, check out their website for recipes, musings and probably some dick jokes.
For more on the Philosophy des Dude, check out some other solid stories here and here.
Mae's Bacon Butter Burger Deluxe. Photo by VATO for Metromix.
It’s not quite Ferndale but it’s so close it should be counted among Ferndale’s notorious teeny-tiny diners famous for breakfast and lunch. Mae’s in Pleasant Ridge has been open two years in April under the ownership of the snarky yet adorable husband-and-wife team Sean and Jessica McCarthy. Eating here is like going to Grandma’s if Grandma were an effortlessly cool twenty-or-thirty-something who smokes and swears and does cool artsy things without being self-important about it. It’s a mom and pop shop for the Facebook-and-iPad generation.
The Mood:
It’s retro hipster chic inside Mae’s. The walls are adorned with vintage signs from Detroit brands like Vernors, Faygo and Wonderbread, some dating as far back as the 1920s. The vintage décor pairs well with the original teal-blue 1950s soda shop stools, chairs, and chrome tables with laminate tops. “All the furniture is original [to the restaurant],” Sean says. “We didn’t have to come up with a design concept!” Glassware and plates are mismatched and kitschy. On one wall you’ll find chalkboard specials and a collection of black and white photographs spanning three generations of Jessica’s family. The photos—some art, some personal, all professional-quality—were taken by Jessica, her brother, their dad and their grandfather, all of whom were photographers. As far as looking at other people’s family photographs go, these are actually fascinating, and lend a very personal feel to the place. And on any given day, this 42-seat breakfast nook is populated by our skinny-jeaned, shaggy-haired, horn-rimmed, mustachioed, plaid-adorned friends who believe Beirut is a band first, the name of a shawarma shop second, and a Middle Eastern capital city a distant third.
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Who run the world? Girls. EID is giving some love to fellow female food bloggers Beyonce-style this week. There are some that focus on recipes, some on restaurants, and some a mix of both. A couple of them are down in the trenches as fellow freelancers; some are chefs, some are students, some stay-at-home moms. Because female food bloggers tend to get categorized somewhat dismissively as mere "cooking" blogs -- or worse, "mommy" blogs -- these girls don't always get their due in a world full of loud, flashy, graphic-heavy man-blogs. I couldn't have sifted through the plethora of local female-authored food blogs without a little bit of help, so this Hot List comes with special thanks to Noelle Lothamer, whom I contacted for a consult after deciding her blog was getting the #1 spot regardless (ashe is also an admin for the Michigan Lady Food Bloggers).
#1 Simmer Down!
It's mostly a cooking blog (with eye-popping pictures; both the author and her husband are photogs), but it is also the somewhat personal blog of Detroit-area freelance writer and musician Noelle Lothamer. Followers of Simmer Down! read along as Noelle charts not only her own cooking and family adventures (like planning her wedding earlier this year), but also as she covers Detroit's DIY food scene from events like Tashmoo Biergarten to the Detroit Holiday Food Bazaar, which she organizes. Noelle is also a freelance food writer for Model D and the Metro Times.
#2 Take a Megabite
She says she's "Just a redhead who likes to bake," but Ferndalian Meg Dekok does so much more on her Megabite blog. This blog is a brain feast -- pretty pictures! funny words! WHAT'S THAT, I WANT TO EAT IT! She takes things that are awesome and combines them into things that are MEGA awesome. See: Nutella-Filled Donuts, Monte Cristo Waffle Sandwich, Chocolate Salami. And all so pretty! I think I might love her.
#3 Okie Dokie Artichokie
This Ann Arbor-based blog is a beaut. Author Stephanie Russell is a personal chef and also a freelance writer, and this well-written, witty blog focuses on delivering interesting, somewhat eclectic recipes with gorgeous pictures and a little bit of Stephanie's life mixed in. A navigation bar on the right allows you to easily view different recipes by category (such as "comfort food," "healthy," "Peruvian" and "noodles").
#4 The Wine Gal Blog
Ericia Bartels is the resident "wine gal" and event coordinator at Angelina Italian Bistro, and this blog is all about her adventures in wine (including sitting for the sommelier exam and lunching with the president of a legendary Italian winery). In between personal and professional anecdotes are some fantastic wine finds, and you can stop by Angelina anytime to talk vino with the pro. (Their monthly wine tastings are hugely popular and tend to sell out quickly.)
#5 Fruitcake or Nuts
It's a simple, straightforward, and regularly updated cooking blog with easy-to-follow and none-too-fancy recipes. There's nothing flashy about the design or presentation, and recipes tend to have more of an everyday appeal. And honestly, that's kind of refreshing -- after all, you can't make chicken galantine until you've mastered basic chicken.
He's been called "The Greatest Chef in the World." In contemporary culture, the name Wolfgang Puck is as familiar a household name as Tom Cruise and Barack Obama. He has had a long, illustrious career working in the finest restaurants in Paris and Monaco, before moving to America and eventually becoming the world's first true celebrity chef. His flagship restaurant Spago opened 30 years ago this year in West Hollywood (Spago Beverly Hills opened in 1997); it has been awarded Michelin stars, received a James Beard Award for Outstanding Service, and is in the Fine Dining Hall of Fame.
From the very beginning, Puck has been at the forefront of every major food trend that has spread to the masses: artisan pizza, farm-to-table dining, Asian fusion -- Puck, Puck, Puck. Puck has parlayed his fame in the kitchen to fame on the screen: he has had guest appearances on prime time shows like Frasier and Las Vegas; he's had his own show and plenty of cameos on the Food Network; he has won a Daytime Emmy Award for the show Wolfgang Puck. The man has done everything.
I had the chance to sit down with Mr. Puck earlier this week for an interview for the upcoming issue of Ambassador Magazine. He was in town hosting a big dinner at his restaurant inside the MGM Grand Detroit for the North American International Auto Show. I had free rein to ask him whatever I wanted ... but what the hell do you ask someone like Wolfgang Puck? After asking some of the more obligatory "what are your favorite places in Detroit" questions, I decided to ask the questions I was most interested in hearing the answers to ... I mean, when's the next time I'm going to get to sit down with Wolfgang Puck and ask him about his life, right?
What I found was a man with incredible insight into the last three decades of evolving American food culture, the very man who more or less spearheaded the movement and brought a whole new awareness of food to the average American table. I found a man who laughs at the cockiness and follies of his youth. A man from very humble beginnings who was told by everyone that he would never amount to anything. A man who once contemplated suicide.
The following are excerpts from our hour-long conversation. Other portions of the interview not included here will be in the spring issue of Ambassador.
