The Best Things I Ate Last Week
Pittsburgh salad in Detroit, Oklahoma-style burgers, plus a big pile of ham.
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Normally here at The Move I have some sort of cheery intro or life update at the ready, but I’m having one of those weekends where I’m struggling to write. Brain not work good, me need sleep, etc. etc.
So, I’ll spare you the extra reading. Let’s just get right into it: The Best Things I Ate in Detroit Last Week:
The French Fry Littered Salad at Michigan & Trumbull
Remember when I said that you can only get Pittsburgh salads in Pittsburgh? Well, as it turns out, I am once again full of shit.
At Michigan & Trumbull, you can satisfy your inner Jerome Bettis with the Yinzer for $12. Their big bowl of salad features leafy mixed greens tossed with cilantro ranch, red onions, roasted tomatoes, lots of coarsely grated cheddar, fresh bacon bits, and crispy, creamy, tender, well-seasoned waffle fries. What stuns me about this salad is how everything is prepared so thoughtfully. The homemade waffle fries, the hand grated cheddar, the way the lettuce is dressed and not served with a plastic sidecar of ranch—I don’t know that I’ve ever seen this much care put into a Pittsburgh salad before. Seeing it outside of Western Pennsylvania is a welcomed displacement; somebody back there cares about one of America’s most underrated regional dishes.
My only knock on the Yinzer is that I’m just not a huge fan of roasted tomatoes in a salad. If this were my own PG salad, and I have in fact made dozens of them, I’d beef up it up with some cucumbers and sliced pepperoncini/pickled banana peppers. I prefer a little more acid and heat. Who knows, maybe the good people at Michigan & Trumbull allow modifications. I’ll find out next time.
This salad doesn’t need the traditional chicken or steak; the Yinzer proves that all you need for a top tier Pittsburgh salad is good French fries, cheese, and ranch. The cilantro dressing is creamy, tangy, and herby. The fries have that great Lawry’s seasoning attached to them, and the cheddar packs wonderful flavor.
Michigan & Trumbull
1331 Holden St. #100
Detroit, MI 48202
The Chips & Ham at Leña
There are few things I love more than a bag of potato chips, so seeing them surrounded by ribbons of Spanish ham and wrinkly, spicy peppers made my heart thump out of my chest like a cartoon wolf.
You’ve probably had jamón ibérico before—the deliciously rich, nutty, and smooth ham made from black Iberian pigs is as famous as it is ubiquitous these days. Jamón ibérico doesn’t require any doctoring, so seeing the folks at Leña wildly pair it with chips is a good indicator that their entire menu pops with creativity.
This dish has one simple instruction: Lift the bag of chips, which are cut at the bottom, let them pour onto the plate, and indulge. I’ve had tons of regional potato chips from all over the country, and Better Made are among the best. They’re slightly greasy, but salty and more potato forward than the stuff you see on commercial grocery shelves. Oh, and the slender and briny pipparas peppers do a lot of work here, too. They break up the salt nicely. A friend told me that he thought this dish was too one note (too salty), but for me this plate is one of my favorite things I’ve eaten all year. Food is good fun. So, have some fucking fun with it, I say.
Also, when the chef brought the plate to our table, he nonchalantly said, “Here’s your ham, potato chips, and peppers.” The bluntness made me chuckle. I guess I did kind of expect a farted out explanation regarding the origins of jamón ibérico, or some charming story about the inspiration for the dish itself, but none of that exposition was detailed, nor was it needed. Refreshing—more chefs should present food like a UPS man dropping off a package. Ding dong! Ham here!
One of the many reasons Leña rules? It trims the fat.
Leña
2720 Brush St.
Detroit, MI 48201
Sliders & Sloppy Chili Cheese Fries at Telway Hamburgers
I have learned that the Detroit area is known for hamburger sliders, which is… interesting. On a list of states which I expected to embrace the slider, I think I would place California or Oregon near the top. But no, it is Michigan who has embraced the small, dainty, snacking burger. Go figure.
At Telway Hamburgers, in operation since 1944, I noticed a cargo-less semi-truck parked out front. “This bodes well,” I muttered to myself. I paid for the burgers by sliding across some cash underneath a plexiglass window, and a kind man missing a few teeth took my money with a colorful back scratcher. “Yes, these burgers are going to be quite good,” I again whispered aloud. “I’m sorry. Did you say somethin’, mister?” said the man. I then shooed him away with my left hand and told him to just make the burgers.
Telway’s hamburgers cost 70 cents a piece, and they are simple and satisfying. These elderly, wrinkled buns house old school, no-frill sliders with a real steamed hamburger vibe. No cheese—just onions, pickles, mustard, and a detectable amount of black pepper that I loved. More black pepper on burgers, I say. My friend Lisa and I ate them in the grass of a nearby library. Did you know nobody can stop you from taking food and eating it on library property? It’s true.
“Why would you get chili cheese fries from a burger joint and not a Coney?” was the remark Lisa’s boyfriend made upon hearing that we ordered the chili cheese fries ($1.45!!!) from Telway. Well, joke’s on him, because their chili cheese fries rule. These are thick, well-salted fries with cheese sauce and chili. Creamy is the word here. I’ve written about chili cheese fries pretty extensively in the past, and I’ve never been a big cheese sauce guy (I prefer shredded and melted cheddar), but Telway has me rethinking that position.
Sorry, Los Angeles, but I’d eat The Telway’s chili cheese fries over Tommy’s any day. I give Telway’s chili cheese fries an 8.3. Or maybe a 7.4. I don’t know fuck you.
Telway Hamburgers
6820 Michigan Ave.
Detroit, MI 48210
A Double Cheeseburger and Fries from The Confusingly Named Motz’s Burgers
Though they fall under the umbrella of Michigan sliders, Motz’s burgers are much more substantial than the patties at Telway.
At Motz’s, a double cheeseburger costs $4.50 and it’s a steal for the price. You might recognize the technique—these burgers are prepared Oklahoma style. That means fresh ground beef is flattened on a hot griddle in conjunction with thinly sliced white onions. Once the burger is caramelized, the onion/meat mixture is flipped, and then fresh buns go on top of the meat. After that, a towel is placed on top of the burgers to help steam the buns.
The whole thing reminds me, ironically, of the separately owned burger joint in New York City called Hamburger America, helmed by burger historian and all around great dude George Motz. Motz and Motz’s both make Oklahoma style burgers, though there is no relation. Odd.
If you live in Detroit, there’s no need to go to New York City. Cheese, ketchup, mustard, pickles, juicy ground meat, and soft, pillowy buns—these classic burgers are prepared with great technique and care. Also, the restaurant itself rules. This is the type of spot where, to fully experience it, you must sit on a stool at the stainless steel counter and talk to your neighbors. I struck up a conversation with a man reeking of alcohol who told me, “Have a blessed day.” In addition, Electric Avenue by Eddy Grant blasted through the speakers. Just good vibes all around.
Also, Motz’s Burgers has great fries—McDonald’s but better. Maybe they could use a little more salt but, but thin, crispy, and golden is the standard by which most burger joints should operate.
Motz’s Burgers
7208 W. Fort Street
Detroit, MI 48209
Yemen Cafe’s Chewy Yemeni Bread & Hummus
You ever get asked to go eat when you’re not hungry? This happens to me regularly. I always say, “Sure, I’ll come, but I probably won’t eat anything!” This is a lie. I am a liar.
A friend asked me to watch him eat at Yemen Cafe in Hamtrammck, a place serving Yemen food in a diner-style restaurant. They have outrageously convenient hours—8AM to 1AM—plus an incredible menu. It’s a fun, rowdy place to get great Yemeni food.
Though I wasn’t very hungry, I did manage to nibble on a giant platter of Yemeni bread and hummus. Yemeni bread is soft, but so damn chewy—the perfect vessel for their smooth and creamy spreads. Outwardly, the bread appears to be just a big hunk of flatbread, but it’s so much more than that. It’s thin, bubbly, enriched, and packs wonderful texture. Get it with hummus, order a side of spicy zhoug, and go to town. The bread only costs $1.95 and I could easily make it lunch.
I wasn’t impressed with everything at Yemen Cafe, however. This might be a sacrilege, but I didn’t particularly enjoy their garlic sauce AKA toum. It was harsh, and by that I don’t mean too garlicky. It was somewhat acrid, and I think I know why.
One of the biggest rules for making Middle Eastern garlic sauce is to remove the garlic’s germ (the tiny stem and leaf inside the middle of a garlic clove.) I’m a big fan of Sohla El-Waylly’s recipe for toum, where she instructs to remove the germ completely. I’ve had toum both ways, and removing it makes all the difference. Blast me in the face with garlic flavor, but that harshness needs tamed. At Yemen Cafe, the flavor is too blunt. It’s a bummer, but you can simply get better garlic sauce elsewhere. Actually, so far, here in Detroit I’m the biggest fan of Bucharest Grill’s toum. Go figure.
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