We need more happy hours.
Stop me if you’ve heard this before, but restaurants are struggling. People seem to be eating out less, and when they do, they’re often frequenting fast casual and chain restaurants. Both parts sadden me, but the latter makes me furious. As Bourdain once stated, fast food is the enemy, and yet more often than not these days it’s embraced like a close friend.
Social media crooks and boring, vacant-eyed food influencers continue to do fast and fast casual’s bidding by filming daily ads of themselves eating Burger King in a Honda Accord. Then there’s hot take writers, who, while desperately trying to come up with click bait for a $200 paycheck, thoughtlessly decide that hey, Olive Garden is actually good! I would like to refute this article, “You Are Not Too Good to Eat at a Chain Restaurant,” with a headline of my own,“Yes, You Fucking Are.” These fuck heads reinforce the same lie—chains are cheaper—but I guarantee you, guaran-fucking-tee you, there’s a better deal waiting to be discovered at a mom and pop restaurant.
Enter the happy hour
A great way to eat cheap and support local businesses—the customer always wins with a good happy hour. That is, so long as you’re willing to meet the restaurant at this arranged jolly time.
I’ve always thought of happy hour as a traditional 5-7pm affair. However, I’m seeing a distressing amount of 3-6pm happy hours listed, with some even starting at 2pm. It should be stated that this is lunacy. Drinking and eating appetizers at 3pm isn’t happy hour so much as it is openly hating your family. No, 5-6 or 5-7 is the ideal hour for peak happiness, and for people like myself who love to turn in early on a weekday, eating dinner at 5pm is just fine.
I’m well acquainted with the happy hours of Los Angeles, and there are many great ones. Rossoblu offers a whole pizza and a drink for $25. Tabula rasa serves up pressed cuban sandwiches and glistening hot pretzels. Probably my favorite happy hour in the city is Otoño, whose highlights include pan con tomate on Bub & Grandma’s bread ($9), Spanish olives for $5, plus calamari ($12) and boquerones ($8). The common theme that unites happy hours? Bar food from around the world.
And with a new wave of chefs and restauranteurs spitting in the stoic face of authenticity, comes exciting, delicious, innovative bar food.
Take Oy Bar in Los Angeles, helmed by the ever-affable, soul-patch wearing Jeff Strauss. Oy Bar’s menu includes a ton of fusion and chef-driven (vroom vroom) techniques. Jeff’s bar burger famously includes Point Reyes Toma cheese, house-made hoisin ketchup, plus cilantro and Persian cucumber on a challah bun. He uses turkey eggs to make his pasta, he serves a yaki onigiri with everything spice and creme fraiche, and in general he just doesn’t shy away from Asian flavors and techniques to pair with his wrapped-in-butcher-paper deli sandwich heart.
Jeff, though, doesn’t do happy hour anymore. “We saw limited benefit,” he says. Is happy hour really worth it for restaurants? I think that’s debatable, and changes from place to place. It’s not a big money grab, that’s for sure, but its oftentimes a way to keep the lights on. Seeing a good happy hour is rare. Seeing a great one? Even rarer…
Which brings me to Dragonfly in Detroit, a happy hour that’ll put a big ol’ smile on your face.
I had the pleasure of eating my way through most of Dragonfly’s bar menu recently, and boy does it make me thankful that we’ve raised the bar for bar food. Their website confidently touts a “killer happy hour.” I love it when a restaurant abandons broad, buzz-word filled derivatives. “It’s just good,” says Dragonfly. And it is.
Dragonfly is stacked with exciting options. The menu is suffused with loud, citrusy flavors but still some comforting fried food, too. It’s a restaurant that gives me similar vibes to Oy Bar. Though Dragonfly isn’t as chef-driven (vroom vroom), it’s still damn inspired. It successfully draws on good food from all cultures—deli sandwiches, Southeast Asian noodles, Filipino desert, Italian dumplings, and much more. There’s something here for you, guarantees Dragonfly. Not to mention that the bright and colorful bar embodies happiness itself with its warm blue colors and soft light. If you live in Detroit, this place is worth your time. Here’s a quick review of each item I had, plus the official happy hour price.
The Wagyu Pastrami Sandwich ($13)
The wagyu pastrami sandwich is a particularly indulgent bar bite—just a wonderful mix of fatty pastrami, marinated cabbage, homemade Russian dressing, and funky white cheddar wedged neatly in between brioche bread. Against all odds, this sandwich somehow exercises restraint. Though rich, I didn’t feel totally bogged down afterwards. It was also just one of the more satisfying things I’ve eaten recently, and it’s exactly the reason you go out in the first place: To eat something you can’t make at home. Are you going to whip up a wagyu pastrami sandwich for dinner anytime soon? Probably not, chief. Stick to the air-fryer.
Noodles ($14)
Simply listed as “noodles,” the bartender laughed when she heard me exclaim, “Whoa, this is Thai as fuck!” It’s a statement that I stand by—these noodles are indeed Thai as fuck. The stir fried egg noodles are infused with the flavors I miss from the legendary strip mall joints in Los Angeles—lots of heat and lots of acid.
The noodles at Dragonfly are filled with pickled radish, basil, meaty mushrooms, peanuts, and noodles coated with a yuzu-soy mixture. This plate blasts you in the face with flavor, which is a welcomed departure from greasy fried mushrooms or whatever else you’re used to being disappointed in at happy hour. Perfect drinking food, and it’s my personal favorite dish on Dragonfly’s happy hour menu.
Cabbage Salad ($7)
The cabbage salad at dragonfly reads Southeast Asian—peanuts, pineapple, mint, radish, crispy rice, and a tangy vinaigrette. It’s just a little fish sauce away from being perfect, but still great without. A crunchy salad with an alcoholic drink is always a good idea, so jam on this if you’re feeling something light. Also, this is just a refreshing salad to order with something rich, like the pastrami or halibut fritters.
Halibut Fritters ($10)
These are simply prepared fish croquettes with spicy mustard, fried capers, and a little bit of fresh dill. The spicy mustard tastes just like a sharp dijon, and the fried capers provide a nice little pop of salt and oil. The halibut fritters are thoroughly soft and delicious, too. No grease bombs at Dragonfly, just well thought out hits.
Waffle Fries ($11)
In Detroit, there’s plenty of loaded fries full of chili and molten cheese sauce that’ll make you shit your pants, so it’s refreshing to see a modern take once in a while. These are loaded fries to enjoy with a crafted cocktail. Personally, I salute any food that’s elegant and trashy, and that’s what these are. Lots of kimchi, green onions, and togarashi, plus a fried egg. These loaded fries are crunchy, drippy with egg yolk, and really well spiced. Couldn’t hurt to ask for a little more condiment here. See what they got.
Pork Dumpling ($10)
The pork dumplings at Dragonfly are super fun. It’s definitely Italian-Asian, with a bit of a garden vegetable twist. The dumplings carry bright red ‘nduja, a spreadable, loaf-y sausage spiked with Calabrian chiles that has somewhat of a chorizo flavor. To double down on the funky ‘nduja, there’s a bit of truffle oil to boot. In the center of the dumplings lies a tangy edible garnish in the form of olive tapenade and turmeric pickled onions. Visually, the pickled onions look just like banana peppers. It’s kind of fun when food tricks you; I fully expected to taste one thing, and instead got another.
The dumplings seem to be pan-fried, almost like pierogi, and are dusted with additional seasoning. As with everything on Dragonfly’s menu, they run for $10 during happy hour. You can have a filling, exciting, flavorful happy hour dinner at Dragonfly and get out for under $25 if you want to. Bring a friend, though. The move sure seems like to split 4-5 appetizers, have a drink or two, and enjoy a fantastic early dinner for about $40 a piece.
Long live the HH.
Thanks for reading The Move! I know it’s cheesy, but it’s important to be supporting local restaurants as well as food writers, too, so this means a lot. Go find a good restaurant and go out to eat!
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