Heyo!!!
I’ve wanted to move to Detroit for months now, but this most recent trip really confirmed why: The people rock, the culture is unmatched, the food’s delicious, and the comedy scene is really, really fun. I haven’t done stand-up since September, but I’ve seemingly got the itch again. Seeing the enthusiastic local audiences and comedians has really put a charge back in me.
There’s an undeniable creative energy to Detroit that beckons, and it’s something I’m going to hold tightly. When pried about the move, I told a comic I met on Saturday night, “I just want to do all of my weird little shit.” To which she responded, “Well, there’s no better place to do all of your weird little shit than Detroit.”
Something else I noticed about the city:
Detroit is a city of cats. American shorthairs peruse the local bookstores and vintage shops. Scrappy one-eyed grays roam the streets of Hamtramck at night to prey on mice. And seemingly every window in Indian Village has a vigilant house cat perched on its lip. Then there’s Paws, who is technically a Bengal and also the mascot for the Detroit Tigers, but nonetheless still a cat. Refreshingly, I’ve noticed a dearth of canines in the Motor City. I love dogs (I have one), but I won’t miss the hordes of L.A. dog owners fruitlessly instructing their lunging pets to, “Leave it! Leavveeeee ittttt.”
Finding an apartment that allows dogs can be a slog no matter what city you’re in, but I think I’ve got a pretty good lead in Islandview/Indian Village. Fingers crossed—it would be within walking distance to Sister Pie.
Anyway, here’s the best things I ate last week. Most of it in Detroit, but there’s also a pizza place in my hometown deserves your attention.
Pizza and Broccoli Cheddar Soup at Mr. Pizza in New Castle, Pennsylvania
If Mr. Pizza sounds like the name of a pizza chain in South Korea that’s because it is. This Mr. Pizza, though, exists in New Castle, Pennsylvania. The first one opened up shop in New York City in 1953, then moved to New Castle in 1972. The menu features great New York pies, Italian soups made with homemade broth, pepperoni rolls, sandwiches, and cheap, cheap prices.
On Tuesdays, you can get 2 slices of cheese pizza and a soda for $3.77. Medium pizzas on Mondays cost 4 dollars and some change. Soup is $3, and hoagies are just shy of $7. The owner, Jimmy, refuses to raise prices too much. New Castle isn’t exactly a thriving city, and he wants to keep thanking the customers who have helped build Mr. Pizza’s success.
The pizza dough at Mr. Pizza is a 100 year old recipe and it’s excellent—thin, crispy, tasty, and with a crunchy, loud crust. The cheese pizza can sometimes carry a pretty abysmal flop (let it cool), but the blend of whole milk mozzarella and Pecorino Romano really provides creamy, cheesy bite. The brand of Pecorino Romano Jimmy orders is exceptionally creamy, tangy, and otherwise wondrous. I ordered a medium cheese pizza and also a medium pizza with anchovies, black olives, and pickled banana peppers. It was forcefully tangy and salty, as only a quartet of Romano, olives, anchovies, and banana peppers can behave.
The broccoli cheddar soup is also some of the best I’ve had in quite some time. It’s creamy not gloppy, features a delicate cheddar flavor, and the broccoli was cooked perfectly. You know how oftentimes broccoli cheddar soup is mushy and textureless? Not at Mr. Pizza. It’s perfectly blanched, toothsome broccoli. The Sicilian slice ($2.12) is predictably doughy, porous, and flavorful, and actually made a pretty great dipping partner to the broccoli & cheddar soup (a move if there ever was one.)
Mr. Pizza is about an hour outside of Pittsburgh, in my hometown of New Castle, Pennsylvania. Plenty of locals will tout the Italian food in New Castle, but for my money, you need to go to Mr. Pizza to experience the town fully.
Mr. Pizza
1204 E. Washington St.
New Castle, PA 16101
The asada torta at La Jalisciense
I picked up this awesome, foil-wrapped asada torta ($10) from La Jalisciense in Mexicantown, Detroit. Mexicantown is in Southwest Detroit and one of the neighborhoods I have been scouting for apartments. Around the early 1920’s, the first Mexican families started to settle. From what I’m reading, those immigrants came from the Mexican state of Jalisco, planted in the Southwest of Mexico.
Jalisco instantly makes me think of Mariscos Jalisco in Los Angeles, a very affordable taco truck known for their tacos de camaron, a crispy shell fried taco stuffed with delicious shrimp, red salsa, avocado, and I believe potato to hold it all together. The texture of this taco is enchantingly smooth. Jalisco is known for their delicious Mariscos (the state is coastal), but also birria, barbacoa, menudo, and torta ahogada.
La Jalisciense is a family owned Mexican restaurant and supermarket. The market features giant hunks of homemade chicharrones, Mexican grocery staples, treats, sweets, drinks, produce, cheese, and even a butcher shop. The torta has many meat options—my first choice was lengua, but they were out, so I moved onto steak.
The asada torta features seasoned crumbled steak, a nice thin spread of Mexican crema, melted white cheese, and crunchy lettuce. The bread is grilled, but soft and crusty—it really makes the whole torta sing. The loose bits of beef also reminded me of a classic New York chopped cheese.
If you live in Detroit and La Jalisciense isn’t a part of your routine, allow me to say that you’re doing it wrong, pal. I can already tell these $10 tortas are going to be the ammunition to fuel my romantic and exciting early months living in the city. What this family-owned supermercado and taqueria provides to the community is priceless. Champion it.
La Jalisciense Supermercado y Taqueria
3923 Vernor Hwy
Detroit, MI 48216
The pesto risotto + raclette at Alpino
Note: I did not take pictures of the food at Alpino. I was on a date, and I’m still projecting a version of myself that isn’t annoying to dine with.
Strolling up to Alpino during golden hour, I was lovestruck by the Corktown neighborhood and the residing charming brick cottage which was recently named the city’s best restaurant for 2024. Inside and out, Alpino is sunkissed with a gentle orange glow that gestures towards the restaurant’s culinary aesthetic as a whole—warmth, comfort, and earth.
Alpino’s menu is, surprise, inspired by the food of the Alps. On paper, that might seem like a bit of a sprawl; the Alps spread across eight different countries—Monaco, France, Switzerland, Italy, Liechtenstein, Germany, Austria, and Slovenia. Many of the restaurant’s dishes choose to incorporate a few of those countries at a time.
Take the raclette for $16. Raclette is a cheese native to Switzerland which is famously melted and scraped from its source. Here, the creamy Gruyere-like cheese is oozed directly onto some toasted French brioche accommodating some cold-cured Italian speck and honey. The ingredients themselves ramble across three different countries in the Alps. This open-faced ham and cheese sandwich is very much like a croque monsieur, just with rearranged concepts and provisions. It’s profoundly satisfying, and a must order.
The pesto risotto ($25) is some of the best risotto I’ve had this year. The creamy carnaroli rice swells with chicken stock and is lusciously smooth. Also, carnaroli rice has a higher starch content than arborio, and is thus creamier. The flavor here is punctuated by Grana Padano and a whole lot of pumpkin—both toasted seeds and pumpkin oil. Alpino decides to wallop you with comfort, but in a way that feels familial. I feel like it could also be named “Mother” or “You Look Hungry, Dear” and I wouldn’t bat an eye.
I also tried the cavatelli (I forget the price but it was over $22), which featured tiny sausage meatballs (real ones know meatballs should be tiny), apples, and sage. The flavor was good, however my only knock on this pasta dish was that it felt a little too greasy for my taste. It should be said that the cavatelli is one of their seasonal pasta dishes. Alpino’s pasta mainstays include a Piedmontese ragu ($26) which I’m sure doesn’t disappoint in the hands of such skilled chefs.
Alpino
1426 Bagley St.
Detroit, MI 48216
Mushroom dumplings at Marrow
When I first started visiting Detroit in the Summer of 2023, Marrow was a spot that I just adored. They specialize in locally sourced meats, vegetables, and other beefy, porky products like homemade hot dogs and sausages. Marrow’s mission is simple: To showcase the profound flavors of excellent farming practices and local sourcing. Though they specialize in butchered meats, I had been craving their mushroom dumplings ($14) since I tried them last August.
For those who aren’t paid subscribers, here’s an excerpt from my initial Marrow-focused newsletter back in August:
These mushroom dumplings come submerged in dark soy sauce, chili oil, and corn relish, topped with micro herbs, and then side-swiped with sweet corn butter. The dish is punctuated twice over by the inclusion of sweet corn; it’s a relentlessly seasonal dish, as both corn and maitake (hen of the woods) thrive in August. Getting a soy sauce soaked dumpling kissed with corn butter is an intense sweet and savory combination that reads Szechuan without the spice.
The addition of corn also feels very Italian to me, and while this isn’t a straightforward fusion, it definitely reminds me of the super-eclectic food served by Diego Argoti. See: my write up of Poltergeist. Marrow’s mushroom dumplings conjure up memories of Diego’s beef and broccoli ravioli, which are equally stunning and one of the dishes I crave most away from Los Angeles. The dumplings at Marrow cost $20.
It should be noted that these dumplings didn’t feature the corn butter, but did have lots of corn kernels. The mushrooms are also seasonal, so you can expect a different variety depending on the season you visit Marrow.
I also ordered a Bloody Mary ($15) with a fresh, tangy house mix and a skewer of what I believe to be cubed venison meat. Felt like one of my deer-hunting, camouflaged neighbors in Pennsylvania serving me brunch.
I actually forgot my credit card at Marrow. When I showed up the next day to retrieve it and provide photo ID, the bartender incredulously and mockingly said, “California?!” I get the sense that Detroit is wary of outsiders these days, and for good reason. I smiled and took the comment in stride, but also marinated on what it means to move to a new city. With it comes a responsibility. Either contribute, or get the fuck out.
Marrow
8044 Kercheval Ave.
Detroit, MI 48214
Thanks for reading the god damn Move!!! If you like what you’re reading, Subscribe! Consider upgrading to paid for the occasional paid post and also the entire catalogue of previous posts, too.
I’m going to be eating in Pittsburgh, New Castle, and beyond the next couple weeks. Hopefully, I’ll be settled in Detroit by early April. Yee haw.