Selma Café

Maddie LaKind  

A few miles west of campus, on a lovely and unsuspecting street, there rests a quaint neighborhood house. Now this house may look perfectly normal on the outside: brick façade, long driveway, ivy covered chimney, and quaint front-lawn garden. But walk through the front doors and you’ll realize, this is no ordinary house.

Entering the tiny foyer of 722 Soule Blvd, the first thing you’ll notice are the walls. These walls aren’t painted, or artfully decorated, or even wallpapered in a particularly pleasing fashion, but rather are overflowing with nametags—masking tape nametags actually, scribbled with permanent marker. You’ll be prompted to create one yourself before entering the house.

As you pass through the dining room and veer right into the kitchen, you’ll notice a hefty wood island dotted with varying plates, mismatched silverware, and a wide assemblage of patterned napkins. The air cloaks you in the chocolaty aroma of Roos Roast coffee and the smoky scent of crispy fried bacon.

Hipsters, activists, students, families, and every local in between, overflow this limited space making introductions, mulling over the week’s happenings, and preparing their ravenous stomachs for the wave of breakfast specials about to come their way. What’s going on you may ask? It’s Friday morning at Selma Café!

Run out of the west side home of Lisa Gottlieb, Selma Café is a weekly pop-up restaurant with a mission to bring locally sourced, honestly prepared food to the community. Each week, Lisa invites a different local chef into their home to cook breakfast Friday morning from 6:30-9:30 a.m.—the only time the café operates. With the help of local volunteers, Selma churns out an ever-changing array of morning fare from eggs, pancakes, and pastries, always served with a side of bacon and a salad of local mixed greens. No matter the dish, Lisa insists that all ingredients be sourced locally, driving home their goal of supporting the Ann Arbor food community and promoting awareness of food-related issues.

A $12-$15 donation covers the cost of breakfast and unlimited coffee, with most of the proceeds going to non-profit organizations, specifically those working to improve Michigan’s local food systems and agricultural practices. While the price may seem steep for breakfast, the experience itself is worth every penny.

Now you might think that the unruly hours of 6:30-9:30am would deter people, but you would be sorely mistaken. Out of fear of not getting a spot or missing the height of breakfast rush, most guests tend to make an appearance between 7:00-8:00am. Any first timers should follow this same trend and get there early: the food will be better, the crowd more hopping, and the experience as a whole more authentic. The hosts are always lovely and accommodating, and the coffee is ever flowing, helping you feel right at home even in the presence of mass crowds.

Once you finally receive that envied name call and take your seat, it’s food time. Having visited Selma probably upwards of ten times over my college career, I can confidently say the best dishes I’ve had are always the simplest. Highlights I still remember include: hardy sausage ragu with local scrambled eggs; the silkiest quiche Lorraine I’ve ever tasted encased in a buttery, flaky crust; smoked trout benedict (as seen below); eggs in a basket with zingy, garlicky pesto; and weekly house specials like strawberry French toast (with sugar caramelized on top…unreal!) and vegan granola.

Like any great dining establishment, Selma isn’t perfect. There have been a few select dishes over the years that weren’t quite up to par or tasted just so-so. However, I keep getting roped back to Soule Blvd, Friday after Friday. What I’ve realized is that, at the end of the day, Selma Café isn’t really about the food. It’s about what food represents: local pride, family, friends, honesty, community, and, of course, lots of love.

Selma Café 722 Soule Blvd Ann Arbor, MI 48103

Not Your Average Pudding Cup

Maddie LaKind  

There is something innately special about Zingerman’s Roadhouse. I can’t quite put my finger on it. Maybe it’s the bright hues of orange and yellow dominating the three-room, sprawling restaurant; or the captivating posters giving detailed background stories of local farmers and purveyors of the restaurant; or the cases upon cases of salt and pepper shakers; or the ever-so-kind staff that always makes you feel like their only customer. It’s hard to say, but all I know is that this place holds a unique, z-shaped spot in my heart.

Specializing in classic all-American eats with a heavy focus on quality, chef Alex Young has created an empire of meaty, cheesy, veggie, sweet, and indulgent goodness that both Ann Arborites and out-of-towners can’t seem to get enough of—hence the 1-2 hour waits on the weekends. While I have had epic eating experiences with such specialties as the dangerously gooey Mac-N-Cheese, smoky slab of ribs, platters of oysters, mussels, and grilled fish, and heaping baskets of thick-cut sweet potato fries, the butterscotch pudding is the one dish that has stuck with me ever since my first spoonful.

This pudding has been a staple of the Roadhouse menu for quite some time, but a recent recipe revamp by Chef Sarah Mays has elevated it from just your average bowl of pudding to a heavenly confectionary creation. I guess you could say she has a sixth pudding sense of sorts, knowing the exact proportion of ingredients and the proper whisking techniques necessary to achieve the ideal pudding consistency and classical sweet flavor. Despite standing in the presence of monstrous and intriguing post-dinner options like the donut sundae or Mississippi mud pie, the butterscotch pudding may come off as a modest contender at best. Take my advice though on this one and absolutely do not—I repeat do not—knock it before you try it!

Although I have experienced a long string of childhood pudding consumption vis-à-vis classic Jell-O Pudding cups, this dessert had never possessed much of a presence on my foodie radar. I guess that’s just because I hadn’t experienced pudding done right, or rather, pudding made the old-fashioned way with just a few star elements. Mays combines lots of butter, thick, local heavy cream, and Muscovado sugar—a course, molasses-y brown sugar—and works her dessert magic until it reaches that “just right” middle ground between not-to-thick and not-to-thin. The real hallmark of the dish, in my opinion, comes from a pinch of fleur de sel, a flaky, slightly saltier French version of American table salt, right on top of the finished pudding.

Modestly presented in a small cylindrical glass not much larger than a standard shot, this beauty of a pudding has nearly every sensual element working in its favor. A deep chestnut color and light sheen. A flawless, velvety texture. A toasty, caramel scent. And, an absolutely addicting sweet-salty flavor. The light sprinkling of fleur de sel, which may seem out of place in such a sugary dish, actually helps balance out the intensity of the butterscotch, while also adding a crunchy contrast to the silky pudding. The combination is nothing short of pure pudding bliss.

There is one important thing to note about this item: its presence on the dessert menu fluctuates week by week. This means taking a chance and relying on a bit of fate and pure hope. I urge you not to become distraught if you happen to see it left off of the menu; simply view it as an excellent excuse to come back again. Either way, the Roadhouse is nothing short of an experience to remember and will you leave you filled with that warm, fuzzy feeling of spending time with family and friends and savoring some damn good, down-home American comfort food.

Zingerman’s Roadhouse 2501 Jackson Avenue Ann Arbor, MI 48103

New Coffeeshop on the Block

Maddie LaKind  

I have a problem. It’s something I’ve dealt with for a long time. It’s something that has cost me a lot of money. And its something I couldn’t live without. Yes folks, I am a coffee shop junkie.

This addiction may seem odd to those who know me, given my pretty minimal daily coffee consumption, but there is something about these spots I can’t quite put my finger on. Maybe it’s the always diverse mix of people (locals/students/hipsters), or the consistently great music playlists showing off artists as far ranging as Animal Collective to Tracy Chapman, or the distinct sound of milk being steamed and espresso being pulled. Whatever this it factor actually is, I’m hooked and keep on frequenting these places—to the detriment of my wallet— week in and week out.

While I am completely satisfied with my usual string of Ann Arbor spots—Comet, Lab, and Zingerman’s—its always a momentous occasion when a new coffee shop comes on the scene, especially if they possess the criterion trifecta for coffeeshop excellence: stellar coffee, food, and ambience.

My most recent discovery, The Songbird Café on Plymouth Road, passed this test with flying colors. Despite only being open for eight months, Songbird has garnered a strong fan following, adding a much-needed splash of authenticity and quality to the land of chains and strip malls that is North Campus. The enormous layout of the place itself is enough to draw you in, with rows upon rows of tables, lots of natural light, and power strips under each table—a crucial element for any student in need of a productive study space.

Fortunately, this place is more than a pretty face, with superb food and drink to boot covering breakfast, lunch, and needed morning/afternoon caffeine fixes. My visit fell around lunchtime, which meant only one thing: sandwich and soup combos. Given that I’ve never really seen this concept executed well anywhere but Panera (which I have since moved on from given an inordinate number of visits freshman year), you can imagine my excitement at the prospect. After a consultation from Emma, my bestie and foodie partner in crime, we settled on our duos: half turkey sandwich and cup of butternut squash soup for me and truffled egg salad sandwich and chicken tortilla soup for Em.

Upon my first bites of sandwich and spoonfuls of soup, I knew this place was more than your run of the mill coffee joint. The butternut squash soup was just hot enough, super silky, and slightly sweet from a hint of nutmeg. Complimented with my turkey sandwich with pistachio crusted goat cheese, fig jam, and apple slices, it felt like Thanksgiving on a plate in all its savory, comforting, and delicious glory.

While Emma’s tortilla soup ached for salt, the truffled egg salad sandwich revived the plate and showed how fantastic something as mundane as egg salad can taste. Super chunky with just enough mayo to coat, this salad gets a light drizzle of truffle oil for depth of flavor and chopped celery for crunch before getting piled between two slices of crusty bread: balanced, creamy, and rich yet oh so light.

More than impressed by our lunchtime selections, we decided to further indulge ourselves (as Emma and I tend to do when eating out) with coffee and dessert. Intrigued by the name, we chose the nutella latte as our beverage, which, despite not tasting much of nutella, held a more-than-pleasant, deep chocolaty flavor. Accompanied by a sea salt chocolate chip cookie, microwaved for extra chocolaty gooeyness (great idea, Emma), we were officially in lunchtime heaven, lounging around and chatting for nearly two hours.

And that’s all I really need in a day. A nice place to sit, take a load off, grab a cup of coffee, eat some good food, and enjoy the company of friends. Songbird offers all of these things in a fresh and comforting way that will leave you actually wanting to make the trip to pseudo-North Campus time and time again.

The Songbird Café 2707 Plymouth Rd, Ann Arbor, MI 48105

Dom's Donuts

Maddie LaKind  

“Citgo, how may I help you?” the phone attendant asked on the other line. My heart sank. “Wait…this isn’t Krispy Kreme?”

How could it be? Was the Internet lying? No Krispy Kremes in Ypsilanti?

This was how it all began—my week of donut-dom. I don’t know exactly what cosmic force or foodie god brought these fried gems back into my life after nearly a year without, but for some reason, I had donuts on the brain. Desperately craving a classic, Krispy Kreme original glazed variety, I tirelessly scoured the Internet in search of a drive-thru or gas station that would carry these little pillows of donut heaven. To my shock and excitement, such a place existed a mere 10 minutes away in Ypsilanti. My life was made, and I was prepared to drop everything and make the trip.

Given the meager amount of Krispy Kreme drive-thrus still in existence, I called ahead just to make sure the place was actually functional. To my overwhelming disappointment, the Internet led me way way awry to, of all places, a Citgo gas station; #fail.

While initially disappointed, I saw this moment as a sign that my Krispy Kreme journey was not meant to be, and that maybe there was an even better donut out there waiting to be discovered. Tapping into my locavore mentality, I set out to leave the conventional, every day Krispy Kreme behind and seek out a real deal, Michigan donut dive.

With this goal in mind, I consulted my go-to string of online food/travel guides—Yelp, Trip Advisor, and Urbanspoon—to help me track down a spot. Following a lengthy investigation, I finally stumbled upon something promising: Dom Bakeries, a 24-hr drive-thru donut shop/bakery in Ypsilanti.

My adventure to Dom’s began on an early Friday morning last week with a quick drive east on Washtenaw and two very hungry, foodie friends in tow. Upon arrival, we knew that this place would be the real deal. The shop looks as if it has remained nearly the same since its opening, with an overwhelmingly beige, 70’s style interior, dotted with a few tables, a couple of drink coolers, and case upon case of baked treats. Now, unlike the current gourmet donut shops sprouting up around the country, Dom’s remains true to its roots: no frills, no pretension, no fancy ingredients or techniques, just awesome donuts that will take you straight back to childhood.

After a thorough perusal of Dom’s selection, we settled on an apple fritter and custard filled long john to share. Armed with steaming cups of coffee, we wasted no time and laid all of the donuts out before us and began picking away.

My first instinct drew me to the apple fritter (per the recommendation of most online reviews), which, if you’ve never seen or had one, translates to a heaping messy mound of fried dough, studded with tiny bits of stewed apples and ribbons of cinnamon, all coated in a light layer of sugar glaze. While fritters aren’t normally my go to donut pick, this one changed my perspective. Dense yet light, sweet but not too sweet, and slightly fruity, warm from the apples and cinnamon—this donut is a simple delight in its purest form.

Although the fritter definitely impressed, the real star of breakfast went to the custard long john—an ethereally fluffy donut filled with velvety, not-too-sweet custard, and topped with a layer of milk chocolate. As more of a light donut kind of girl (in the age-old light vs. cake donut debate), this one hit the spot, filling that classic donut flavor profile without weighing me down.

Given our ferocious appetites, we plowed through our selection in less than fifteen minutes and headed back to Ann Arbor full, caffeinated, and sugar buzzed—the best way to start a weekend.

Now I know that most people have no desire to make a drive all the way out to Ypsilanti just for a donut. However, after confirmation from both of my friends and our very satisfied stomachs, we all agreed these ones were definitely worth a trip. If not for the donuts themselves, Dom’s will provide you an old school charm, vast selection, and crazy cheap prices—24 hrs a day to boot!

Dom Bakeries 1305 Washtenaw Ave Ypsilanti, MI 48197

Extreme Makeover: Spicy Tuna Edition

Maddie LaKind  

It’s official. The infamous Midwest, mid-winter funk has cast a cloud over the city of Ann Arbor. With all of this snowy rain, cold slush, and oh so much gray I think its safe to say that the charm of that long-awaited and short-lived white Christmas is officially over. Fortunately, in the midst of such a miserable weather rut, there are sprinklings of new local restaurants that are adding a needed pop of sunshine to our dreary city climate.

The one place recently hovering on my foodie radar is Isalita, the follow up restaurant from the managers of the still ever-popular Mani Osteria. Situated right next door to its Italian counterpart, Isalita approaches food in a similar light to Mani but instead of Italian, shifts its focus to Mexican—a cuisine that has maintained marginal representation in Ann Arbor for years (I’m sorry, but Tios and Chipotle just don’t cut it for me). Focusing on small, but intensely flavorful plates for sharing, Isalita tackles the classics like nachos, tacos, and fried plantains, emphasizing excellent quality and flavor.

After having paid three visits to this charming establishment since my return from winter break, I am a newly converted fan. While I will admit that a number of their items could use improvement—bland tortilla soup, overly smooth/untextured guacamole, and one-noted tacos—the spicy tuna ceviche is a dish I haven’t been able to shake from my mind.

Composed of small pieces of raw fish marinated in citrus juice and other accompaniments, ceviche has garnered a reputation as one of the best ways to enjoy seafood in its absolute purest form. Given the love/hate status so commonly linked to raw fish, I know this dish will not appeal to all. However, for all you adamant anti-raw eaters out there, just listen.

Starting with a simple base of uber-fresh, diced briny tuna, the chef crafts this dish like a fine painting, adding layers upon layers of flavor until exceptionally balanced and complex. Chopped green mangos give the dish a tart, sweet flavor. Toasted coconut adds warmth and nuttiness. Pickled onions add a vinegary, acidic bite. Serrano chile adds heat and crunch. And finally, lime juice serves as the binder of the whole dish, adding that unparalleled tang and brightness of citrus.

On par with the tropical flavor profile is the symphony of textures on this plate. Starting on the fish front, the raw tuna steak is just unctuous enough, maintaining a nice firmness while still indulgently fatty. Tacking on the softness of the mango and pickled onion and the crunch of raw chile and toasted coconut, you couldn’t ask for a better mother load combination.

So if this so-called “winter” weather is leading you to the dark side, treat yourself to a night out and give Isalita a visit. Whether it’s the ceviche or any of their other notable dinner offerings/cocktails, you’ll instantly feel transported from this snowy, rainy hell and straight to a far away place filled with sunshine, palm trees, tequila, tortilla chips, warmth, and sun!

Isalita 341A E. Liberty St. Ann Arbor, MI 48104

Fish & Chips: A Match Made in Heaven

Maddie LaKind  

London baby—home of bangers and mash, shepherd’s pie, scones, tea time, and, most famously, fish & chips. While the states have tried to master this deceptively simple recipe, most knock-offs pale in comparison, all lacking that certain London “it” factor that makes it so addicting.

Last week, however, on a pre-Thanksgiving romp around Kerrytown, all my pre-conceived notions of this British specialty took a permanent turn for the better after stumbling upon Monahan’s Seafood in Sparrow Market. Having strolled past this tiny, family-run market on countless grocery runs, I was slightly disappointed and confused as to why I had never paid a visit there before. I love fish, I love shellfish, and I love a good, down-home, small business. According to my mental math, I should have dove into the menu here months, even years ago.

Primarily functioning as a fish market, but shadowing as a food stand during lunch, Monahan’s provides probably the best fish and seafood selection of any spot in town. From stunningly colorful red snapper, to prickly sea urchins, tiny clams, and luxury items like king crab legs and lobster tail, this place has it all and a lovely, welcoming staff to boot. Given their elite specialty market status, they offer a very brief window for restaurant hours – 11-3pm – and, with only five or six tables in the joint, you have to be a bit strategic about your lunchtime game plan.

I was not so wise about my game plan this first go-around, ending up plopped right in the middle of the local lunch rush. However, the wait only added to the experience, allowing more time for my foodie senses to soak up everything. With the roar of the bustling crowd, the clinking of cold beers, the briny smell of the ocean, the sight of open displays of the day’s best items, and case upon case of fresh, fishy offerings, I felt like I had been transported to the famous Pike Place Market in Seattle; a true departure from my Ann Arbor reality.

Following a brief glimpse at the menu, I eagerly settled on none other than the fish & chips—one of the most genius comfort foods ever invented. Made with North Atlantic pollack–similar to a cod or whitefish–the modest fish filet is dipped in a beer batter and deep-fried until golden. The fries are traditional English style, thick cut, fried crispy, and liberally salted. The dish is served on a paper plate–super casual–with fries on the bottom, fish on top, and a side of tartar sauce. That’s it.

After tracking down a table in the outdoor courtyard, and hardly able to contain my excitement, I dove right in. Eaten all together, this dish is paradise for any fish or fried food aficionado. Blanketed under all that beer-battered goodness, the pollack maintains a delightfully moist and tender texture, as well as a lightness that only comes from truly fresh seafood.

Combined with the crunch of the batter, the salty, earthiness of the chips, and the tangy, lemony, creaminess of the tartar sauce, this dish leaves a very strong impression. It’s been over a week now since my first visit, and I still salivate at the thought of another one of those glorious plates.

This past semester while abroad in Europe, I ate my first authentic fish and chips in London on a weekend trip with my roommates. At the time, I thought I had found the best of the best—who could top fish and chips outside of its very own country of origin? Monahan’s…that’s who. Maybe the Midwest will never hold the same seafood legacy as London but it’s a comfort to know that Ann Arbor is home to a special kind of fish shop full of welcoming faces, great values, and truly divine eats!

Monahan's Seafood Market 407 N. 5th Ave. Ann Arbor, MI 48104

Truffled Taters

Maddie LaKind  

Is there anything more synonymous with the pure pleasure of eating than a good French fry? Whether you’re a shoestring supporter, crinkle-crazed, waffle wild, crazy for chili cheese, or swoon over sweet potato, you can’t really go wrong with a good deep fried potato—in any form. It was with this mentality that I approached my dish selection for this week after a serendipitous spotting on Facebook.

While breezing through my newsfeed one lazy evening before bed, I saw a Zingerman’s co-worker of mine post a status raving over the truffled french fries at The Jolly Pumpkin. Given my knowledge of this person’s immense obsession with truffle salt—a best seller in the retail section of Zingerman’s deli—I trusted his word.

Despite a few prior visits, the Jolly Pumpkin has never maintained much of a presence on my Ann Arbor radar, at least for their food selection. I’ve enjoyed several great brews there time and time again, but the lunch and dinner selections are nothing to write home about. However, I knew my co-worker wouldn’t post just any old food claim online so I figured I might as well give the truffled fries a fair shot.

Following a grueling and drawn out day of school last week, my best friend and I made the trek to the Pumpkin, ready to indulge in a nice early evening snack. Upon first spotting of our waitress, we ordered the fries right out the gate, eager to get them to the table as quickly as possible.

A mere 6-7 minutes later, they arrived, piled high in a dramatic metal cone lined with parchment paper. Resembling a very similar shape and feel to McDonalds’ prized fry, these tats were the perfect thin, finger-length size that allowed for maximum pick-up capabilities.

Although this may seem pretty standard thus far, the aroma and unmatched flavor of the Pumpkin’s truffled fries put them a cut above the rest. Simply sprinkled with truffle salt and chopped rosemary, these babies smelled like a forager’s dream—woodsy, and wonderfully rustic.

Biting into my first truffled fry was like entering a game of pinball. First you get that classic, rich potato flavor. Then—bam—the rosemary flavor starts to emerge, fresh and fragrant. Then—boom—the truffle oil sneaks up on you, releasing that unmatched soft, delicate mushroom flavor. And finally, when you thought you got the full experience—bang—that perfect textural contrast of crunchy fry exterior and tender, fluffy center hits you, lulling you into a state of complete snack submission.

If that hasn’t already triggered your salivary glands, maybe this will do the trick. Presented on the side of the cone is a small bowl of luscious, tangy garlic aioli—a sauce composed of egg yolks, butter, garlic, black pepper and rosemary. While ketchup is always a winner, there is no better culinary gem than a proper aioli. Rich, a bit peppery, super garlicky, and oh so velvety smooth—the absolute best accompaniment to such a beautifully prepared French fry.

As I think is evident by all 20+ adjectives I just used to describe them, these fries are nothing short of amazing. I can assure you that they will not last longer than 7 maybe 8 minutes tops if you’re lucky. Try to pace yourself—I dare you. It is much easier said than done.

Jolly Pumpkin, while I have not held the best experiences with your normal dinner fare, your exemplary truffled French fries restored my faith. I will dream of those flawless mushroom and rosemary scented potatoes until my next stroll down Main street.

Also, thanks to my co-worker Max for being the unknowing puppeteer behind this whole operation—definitely the best thing to come out of Facebook in a long time.

The Jolly Pumpkin 311 South Main Street Ann Arbor, MI 48104

Burger & Shake: Cubano Style

Maddie LaKind  

The setting: Washington St., Ann Arbor. The scene: a stark white room with four long white picnic tables, a minimalist, steel drink bar, and a menu spanning across five hanging metal boards. The director: famed Ann Arbor chef and Top Chef contestant Eve Aronoff. And the stars: Frita and Batido.

No I’m not talking about a new motion picture event, but rather a true superstar in the Ann Arbor food world named Frida Batidos. If the buzz surrounding this foodie mecca has yet to find you, have no fear, here is the lowdown.

Ever since its debut in 2010, Frita Batidos has been a hit with local foodies, serving traditional Cuban street food in a casual, comfortable environment. The menu is unlike anything in the area, offering items like plantain chips, traditional Spanish churros, and pulled pork, but the real must-have items, as the name suggests, are the frita and the batido.

Basically just the Cuban adaptation of the good ol’ American trio of burger, fries, and milkshake, fritas are a Cuban-style burger, typically made with spicy Chorizo sausage, and topped with french fries on a brioche bun. Batidos are another Cuban specialty reminiscent of a milkshake, combining fresh fruit or flavorings, ice, and sweetened milk. Aronoff opts to make her batidos with goat’s milk, which maintains a thicker texture and slightly more sugary taste than your average cow’s milk.

Like any good burger place, Frita is all about the toppings, presenting a menu of items that put the normal sliced red onion, lettuce, and tomato to shame. A normal, unmodified burger—of which you can choose from chorizo, beef, chicken, fish, or black bean— starts on a heavenly fluffy brioche bun custom made by Zingerman’s Bakehouse. Then a nice schmear of lemon scented mayo coats the bun just enough to moisten the burger and provide that slight pop of citrus. A large handful of french fries come next, draping the sides of the burger in a crispy and perfectly greasy potato blanket.

Now it’s topping time. Like cheese…add muenster! Need some veggies…go for the cilantro-lime salsa or tropical coleslaw. Love that decadent fattiness that only an egg can provide…add one, sunny side up! Can’t narrow down all of these delectable options…ask for your frita “loco style” and get them all. Winner, winner, frita dinner.

Once you have locked down the burger, attention must be shifted to its sweet, chilled counterpart—the batido. Embodying all the hallmark flavors from the tropics, Frita offers milkshake choices ranging from passion fruit, to fresh lime, coconut cream, and mocha. Thick to the point of spoon-use (straws just don’t cut it here) and nearly brimming out of the cup, the batidos are topped with a signature colorful paper umbrella and are ready to accompany your mondo burger.

The visit I paid to Frita this past week reaffirmed all of my initial elation surrounding its opening in town. Going with the fish frita for the first time—loco style of course—and a coconut cream batido, I couldn’t have been more grateful that the frita and batido gods had finally made their way back into my life.

As I watched the waiter carry over my king size burger on their signature metal cafeteria tray, my stomach instantly knew to expand and prepare for the onslaught of burger heaven that was about to ensue. Unlike a normal hamburger with easy pick-up capabilities, the frita requires a creative eating strategy that allows for a bit of frita and topping in every bite, while still maintaining the cleanest eating space possible. I can assure you this is no easy feat. French fries will fall. Sauces will drip. Buns will disintegrate. And hands will be covered in a whole assortment of burger remnants but every moment of that burger experience will be well worth it.

I can’t quite pinpoint what was in the air on this particular day, but my frita took on a whole new realm of flavor excellence. The patty itself, made from Lake Superior whitefish, tasted like the crabcake’s lighter cousin—meaty, briny, and perfectly savory. Combined with the vinegary tang of the coleslaw, the freshness of the salsa, the impeccably crunchy shoestring fries, the luscious ooziness of a nearly raw egg yolk, and, of course, the buttery, lightness of the brioche bun, this burger redefines the everyday patty to create something worth talking about.

Eaten in conjunction with intermittent spoonfuls of ice-cold, creamy coconut batido, there is no better way to leave the chilly days of the Midwest fall behind and escape to the beach for dinnertime.

Frita Batidos 117 W. Washington Ann Arbor, MI 48104

A Turkish Delight

Maddie LaKind  

I take breakfast very seriously. Most people in my life will tell you that you don’t want to cross me until I’ve at least eaten at least a little something in the morning. Let me clarify though—by something, I do not mean a cup of coffee or a bite of power bar. No, no. That never cuts it for me. I need a meal that is both light and filling enough to propel me through the morning, keep me going until lunch, and, obviously, taste great.

Ann Arbor is clearly no amateur in the breakfast game with places like Angelo’s and Afternoon Delight dominating the morning meal scene. While I’m all for a good, grease-pit diner omelet or stack of silver dollar pancakes, sometimes a girl needs to expand her mind, step outside her comfort zone, and discover new breakfast horizons.

It was this very pursuit that first led me to discover the wonderful Café Zola. If you haven’t heard of this place before, sear the name into your brain; Zola, Zola, Zola. Housed in a hip downtown space with exposed brick walls, a sleek wrap-around bar, and tons of local art throughout, Café Zola is the epitome of an all-purpose spot, serving superb breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The menu is Mediterranean at heart, specifically French/Italian, with a sprinkling of Turkish specialties—a nod to the country of origin of one of the owners. The real task upon looking at this expansive and slightly overwhelming menu is honing in and narrowing down your choice.

I have had the pleasure of dining at Zola for all three meals of the day and, without question, breakfast (or brunch rather) trumps its counterparts every time. Although they are famous for their wide selection of sweet/savory crepes, omelets, and waffles, I still go back to the first dish I every tried there, which has remained my go-to favorite to this day—Turkish eggs.

Like most of you, I’m sure, I had never heard of Turkish eggs before coming to Zola, and, to this day, don’t truly know what actually makes the dish Turkish. However, since their introduction into my life, I can’t get enough. Besides possessing an unmatched vibrant flavor, the dish really shines in its simplicity, but I’m getting ahead of myself here. Here’s how the plate breaks down: a layer of sautéed spinach covers the bottom of the plate, then comes two eggs prepared any way you’d like right on top, along with a hefty hunk of crumbly, salty feta cheese, and a sprinkling of fresh thyme. Sliced tomatoes, cucumbers, and handful of olives serve as lovely accompaniments in addition to your choice of sourdough, rye, or whole-wheat toast.

Individually, these components may seem mundane but eating them all together is nothing short of divine combining nearly every flavor and texture profile; the earthiness of the spinach, the fatty egg yolk, ripe, vibrant tomato, crisp cucumber, creamy, tangy feta, and that distinct brininess of olive. All stacked atop slices of crusty toast, open-faced sandwich style, you are in for a heavenly—and healthy—breakfast treat.

It’s difficult for me to recall a breakfast so beautiful and fresh that didn’t leave me feeling bogged down post-meal. Usually when I see a dish so photo-worthy as this, it’s something like a mondo plate of French toast or a waffle brimming with dollops of whipped cream—things characterized by indulgence and excess. The Turkish eggs put that notion to shame, showing that breakfast can be truly delectable without making you feel like a slug.

Despite eating this dish upwards of ten times throughout my time in Ann Arbor, it never loses its allure. And clearly, others feel the same as it is one of Zola’s recommendations on the menu and ranked as a fan favorite among customers. It is this commitment to variety and quality that keeps people coming back brunch after brunch, week after week, with lines typically stretching out the door on Saturdays and Sundays.

As college students, it’s hard to find the time and money to treat oneself to a nice brunch out, especially in the Main street area. I can assure you though, Zola’s spread is worth every penny. Not only are you getting a fabulously prepared meal made with top quality ingredients but you get to enjoy them in a beautiful space with a bustling local crowd. So the next time you are reaching for the box of Cheerios or a Fage yogurt, gather some friends and pay Zola a visit; your stomach will thank you later.

Café Zola 112 West Washington Street Ann Arbor, MI 48104

A Croissant to Remember

Maddie LaKind  

There are few things I enjoy more than waking up to a hot coffee and freshly baked pastry, reading the paper, and taking the time to relax before facing reality. While this city is bursting at the seams with high quality coffee—think Comet, Lab, The Espresso Bar, Zingerman’s, Café Ambrosia, and Mighty Good—outstanding pastries are a commodity much more difficult to come by; or so I thought, until the Pastry Peddler came into my life.

It’s questionable when I first actually stumbled upon this mecca of pastry goodness given the inordinate amount of visits I’ve paid there over the years. I do however, remember that first instant of pastry revelation—that breakthrough moment when I realized that in a city of what I thought were “just okay” baked goods, there lay something pretty remarkable underneath the surface.

Operated in a petite storefront next to Campus Corner on Packard, Pastry Peddler cranks out all of the traditional bakery offerings with a serious commitment to quality. From raspberry Danish, to gooey sticky buns dripping with chopped pecans, scones of every flavor, muffins, and pasties—a savory Northern Michigan specialty reminiscent of a handheld potpie—as well as an extensive espresso drink section, the whole menu is a showstopper. There is one specialty though, that in my humble opinion, ranks high above the others, redefining what a great baked good should be, and never ceasing to disappoint—the almond croissant.

I tasted my first of a long string of these nutty delights not at the Pastry Peddler storefront but at Comet Coffee; the Peddler is one of the premiere suppliers of pastry to Ann Arbor’s coffee shop scene. Upon seeing it for the first time, I knew this thing had to be good; a dark golden croissant, shaped in a perfect crescent to expose layers upon layers of buttery pastry, topped with a thick, even layer of sliced, toasted almonds.

While beautiful in its simplicity, this seemed just like your basic almond croissant set-up to me, until I brought it to the table and dove in. After peeling apart the bottom half from the top, I discovered a thin layer of almond cream delicately nestled in the belly of the pastry. As if it wasn’t decadent enough already? Similar to the texture of pudding, this satiny addition serves as a superb textural compliment to the crunch and chewiness of the pastry itself. Also, as the almond crème seeps into the bottom layer of the pastry, it creates a sugar-soaked, super crispy, almond-scented base for this baked gem, beckoning you to delve in and enjoy—immediately!

As the croissant enthusiast I am, I have developed a unique way of eating this pastry to maximize eating time and savor it with joy. This method requires peeling the top and bottom layers apart and then slowly taking little bites of each half, alternating as you please. The top half should maintain a nice flake to it and give off that toasty, nutty aroma and flavor, while the bottom should hit you with both a crunch of pastry and the smoothness of almond crème.

Despite perfecting this technique over the course of three years in Ann Arbor, I still can’t manage to make these croissants last longer than seven or eight minutes. Eaten alongside a foamy cappuccino or shot of espresso, the almond croissant from Pastry Peddler is the perfect way to indulge in breakfast, brighten a bad day, or pick you up from an afternoon slump. If you’re anything like me, you will be counting down the days until your next croissant purchase. Just be careful—these babies can lead you down a slippery slope of minor Peddler dependence. Trust me though; there are much worse problems you could have.

Pastry Peddler, 619 Packard St, Ann Arbor, MI 48104, (734) 929-2976

Hail Caesar

Maddie LaKind  

I love Mani Osteria—simple as that. I love everything about the place. The sleek yet rustic décor, the soft mood lighting, the smoky smell of the wood-fired oven, the open-air kitchen, and, of course, the beautiful Italian offerings they produce with consistency and panache. Ever since its opening in 2011, I have grown more and more infatuated with this establishment, using any special occasion or parental weekend as an opportunity for a visit.

The thing that sets Mani apart from most Ann Arbor restaurants is that it is nearly impossible to find a flop on the menu, seriously. In the 8+ visits I’ve paid to this place, I still have yet to eat something truly disappointing. Specializing in small plates for sharing, Mani—meaning “handmade” in Italian—prepares each dish lovingly and artfully, creating a feast for both the stomach and the eyes; the perfect combination for all those crazy Instagram-armed, foodie diners out there.

Having spent a semester abroad in Florence, Italy this past year, I have to admit that I have become a bit of an Italian food snob since my return to the states. Gelato will never maintain the same, luscious texture here and pizza/pasta will never taste as good as when it comes straight out of a tiny trattoria kitchen. However, let me say, for American-Italian food, Mani attains elite status in my book. Its modest one-page menu, while lacking in flash, embodies everything that Italians revere in their cuisine; high quality, fresh ingredients, bold flavors, and the ability to share your meal with family and friends.

While I have worked my way through a sizeable chunk of the menu, the Caesar salad remains my go to dish. Unlike most horrific renditions of this pseudo-Italian creation—which typically consists of some combination of water-logged, flavorless romaine lettuce, hockey-puck tough croutons overly coated in artificial herbs/spices, minimal shavings of parmesan (or some sort of parmesan-imposter) cheese, and an overly thick, salt-laden dressing—Mani’s exemplifies the beauty of how a simple recipe and superb ingredients can elevate a dish from normal to extraordinary.

From the bottom-up, this salad begins with a nice mound of well-chopped, crisp romaine. Next come tiny flecks of meaty white anchovy. If you think or already know you’re anti-anchovy, I would encourage you to put your predisposition aside and give it a try. The taste is more salty and briney rather than that super “fishy” taste that tends to chase people away. A handful of nutty parmigiano reggiano cheese follows suit, spread out perfectly like a light blanket of cheesy snow. Everything then gets coated in a light, traditional Caesar dressing of finely chopped anchovy, lemon juice, olive oil, and lots of freshly ground black pepper.

Seems pretty basic thus far right? Well get ready, because unlike most Caesar salads, which actually include a raw egg yolk in the dressing, Mani chooses to go the deep-fried route instead, omitting the egg from the dressing entirely and frying it up as a garnish. I ask you, is there anything better than a soft, luscious fried egg with a perfectly crunchy exterior to boost your salad to the next level? Not really, except for maybe two or three eggs instead of just one. A girl can dream can’t she?

Mani cooks their egg just enough to soften the whites, while still retaining a velvety texture. When pierced with a fork, the striking golden yolk remains delightfully runny and unctuous, creating a second dressing of sorts. When looked at as a whole, this salad is a brilliant display of harmonious opposites uniting to create a flawlessly balanced bite. Salty and fresh + rich and light + crunchy and silky = sheer perfection.

So whether you think salads are a waste of a meal or are merely disillusioned with the normally mediocre Caesar, I urge you to pay Mani a visit. I’ve yet to talk to one person who has had a negative experience here, and in a town as food-centric as Ann Arbor, that’s saying a lot. So head on over, have a glass of wine, enjoy the swank, city vibe, nosh on some small plates, indulge in gelato and espresso, laugh with friends, and, most importantly, viva Italia!

Mani Osteria 341 E Liberty St, Ann Arbor, MI 48104

Going Green

Maddie LaKind  

This week, I’m going green. Not in an environmental sense or anything, but rather in choosing to feature a dish that is neither deep-fried nor cheese filled. Please, no tears. I promise that despite the omission of these luxurious preparations, this dish doesn’t skimp on flavor or joy of eating.

My basis for this week’s selection came about after dining at Jerusalem Garden last Sunday for possibly the tenth time in the last four months. Unlike most of my visits to J-Garden where I have remained a falafel sandwich and lentil soup purist, the duo just didn’t seem to call out to me this time around. Seeing this as an opportunity to expand my hummus horizons, I settled on the fattoush salad. I don’t know what was in the air on this particular day, but the salad, despite my having tried it a time or two before, displayed an entirely new allure this go-around.

As I’m sure many of you are thinking at this point, what is a fattoush salad? Is that even a real word? It is indeed a real word and is an Arabic salad composed of a variety of mixed vegetables, salad greens, and chopped pieces of either fried or toasted pita bread. Like any loyal Ann Arborite, I have already been conditioned to love the bread/salad hybrid through the consumption of far too many chipatis to count; the fattoush seemed like a healthier and much lighter follow up.

Based on where you have eaten fattoush in the past, the means of preparation can vary slightly, but they all tend to maintain a similar look, taste, and string of ingredients. J-Garden’s fattoush combines finely chopped cucumber, tomatoes, red peppers, red onion, carrot, and lots of fresh parsley until it almost resembles a chunky vegetable salsa. A simple dressing of lemon, vinegar, olive oil, salt, and sumac—a tart, citrus-flavored spice with a stunning ruby color—ties everything together before being crowned with a handful of crispy, salty pita chips.

Now, I know I am already going back on a claim I made at the start of this whole thing, but when choosing your means of pita preparation for the fattoush, fried is the clearly superior road to take. The crunch is better, the flavor more pronounced, and who doesn’t love a little bite of salty, oily goodness to accompany their veggies?

Delving into this salad, you are immediately hit with a sensory overload of sorts. The hodge podge of vibrant colors combined with loads of fresh parsley and the bright scent of sumac and lemon juice triggers feelings of a simple summertime lunch in the garden.

The flavor of all the components married together really carries this feeling home. The crunch of the cucumber, peppers, and onions, sweet, juiciness of the tomato, vibrant fragrance of chopped parsley, a touch of citrus, and bite of pita chip make for a veggie-tastic explosion of taste. Unlike the standard, uninspiring salads offered in most take-out spots, J-Garden’s fattoush borders on the addictive side with each bite trumping the next in flavor. Also, by some miraculous feat of food science, the fried pita topping remains perfectly crisp until the last bite. Don’t ask how. Just enjoy.

With a salad this good, it often begs the question, “can this really be good for me?” The answer folks is a definitive yes! Minus the fried-ness of the pita bread—which is merely a small bonus in a pretty substantial bowl of salad—this dish has everything you need to leave feeling energized, satiated, and yearning for more. Eaten in conjunction with a bowl of lentil soup, a side of stuffed grape leaves, or a simple plate of pita and hummus, J-Garden provides a perfect foodie escape from the typical drudgery of campus cafeterias or at-home easy mac. At only $3.50 for a small size and $4.25 for a large, the fattoush salad is also a great way to have an authentic dining experience without spending a fortune.

Jerusalem Garden 307 South 5th Avenue Ann Arbor, MI 48104

The Real Hot Pocket

Maddie LaKind  

This month marks my two-year anniversary as an employee at Zingerman’s Delicatessen; two years filled with so many noteworthy sandwiches and far too many samples to count. As a saleswoman and general chatterbox regarding good food, people always ask me for my sandwich of choice (out of the 80+ options on the menu), preferred pastry, or must-try side from the salad case. Over the course of my employment, my favorites have pretty much remained consistent. However, something happened this past August that shook up my deli world—for good.

It was weekday-closing shift like any other. Sporadic waves of guests every twenty minutes or so, but on the whole, very relaxed. Upon perusing the menu for my employee meal for the day, I stumbled upon the infrequently visited traditional Jewish section of the menu. Don’t get me wrong; matzo ball soup, kugel, and chopped liver all hold a special place in my heart, but they aren’t the most energizing fuel for the rest of a shift. But then, I saw it. An item so infrequently ordered and tragically forgotten about that I almost glazed right over it; that item was a cheese blintz.

For those of you whom have yet to experience the transcendental powers of a good blintz, let me provide a brief snapshot. A thin egg crepe is delicately wrapped around a fluffy, honey-scented cream cheese filling, pan fried in butter until golden brown and crisped, and served with a side of both homemade strawberry preserves and sour cream. Just to reiterate: crepe, cream cheese, butter, preserves, and sour cream. Together—in one dish. Now, if that doesn’t sound like the mother load combination, I don’t know what does.

Despite my tendency for wolfing down food without any type of legitimate savoring, I used my reacquaintance with the blintz to test out a new, more leisurely eating pace centered on tasting every component of the dish. After prepping my fork with a nice heap of jam, a light dollop of sour cream, and a knob of blintz, I took my first bite and was immediately elevated into a whole new realm of what any great, cheesy, buttery dish should be. Velvety, slightly sweetened cheese filling effortlessly melding with tart jam and slightly tangy sour cream, all united by a blanket of egg crepe. Rich. Creamy. Fatty (in the best way). And almost too delicious.

I have not eaten a whole lot of blintzes in my life, but even as a new fan, I think I can rank Zingerman’s version as an exemplary product on a number of accounts. First of all, the ingredients used are all selected on the basis of excellent quality and intense flavor. This means creating a filling with all natural cream cheese—no Philadelphia here, folks—rich and floral chestnut honey, and house made crepes. Using cheese produced at the Zingerman’s Creamery on the South side of Ann Arbor, locally made preserves, and Guernsey Dairy (also local) sour cream, this dish is also a proud celebration of local products and natural food practices, both of which, lets be real, most college students could incorporate more into their food lifestyle.

Aside from all of the technical reasons why Zingerman’s cheese blintz is such a showstopper, the bottom line is that it is just damn good comfort food. Like any great bowl of mac and cheese, order of fried chicken, or piece of birthday cake, the blintz is a dish to indulge in every now and then and, most importantly, without guilt; we are all deserving of those precious moments of food nirvana! So next time you’re feeling the Zingerman’s itch, give the blintz a try. It never ceases to disappoint.

Zingerman’s Delicatessen 422 Detroit St. Ann Arbor, MI 48104

Ring a Ding Ding

Maddie LaKind  

Blimpy's Perfect O's

As a senior at the University of Michigan, there are a number of Michigan bucket list traditions I’ve checked off over the past three years; stepping on the brass block M on the Diag after my first (successful) blue book exam, cafeteria-tray-sledding on a snow blanketed Palmer Field, and dabbling in an accapella group. However, until this past weekend, I had never visited the legendary Krazy Jim’s Blimpy Burger. I know, a sacrilegious confession for any real Ann Arbor foodie. However, now that I’ve finally been immersed in the full Blimpy experience, I can see why it has garnered such legendary local status.

My trail to burger-dom began with a somewhat lengthy wait in a line stretching out the front door of this shoebox size establishment. Once inside, and stationed at the front counter, you take a tray and order, but not any old ordering. Oh no. Think in light of the famous Seinfeld “Soup Nazi” episode; food must be ordered the krazy way or you’re out. Well, not really, but if you do it right you will definitely avoid some serious death stares from the curmudgeonly grill master. The proper and approved ordering method is as follows: first, any fried food you desire (fries, onion rings, tempura battered broccoli or cauliflower, etc.). Second, choose the number of patties you’d like on your burger. Third, bun type. Fourth, grilled toppings. Fifth, cheese type. And, lastly, cap it off with condiments and any fresh toppings.

While the grease-drenched, epic size burgers are obviously the main draw of this dive, my eyes were set on a different fatty find; onion rings. Now I’ve definitely eaten my share of onion rings, some good, some bad, but Blimpy’s o’s take on a whole new genre of fried perfection. Thick, hefty slices of yellow onions are lightly dunked in a layer of batter and deep-fried until reaching a rich golden hue. That’s it. No muss. Following a brief draining stint after being plucked out of the fryer, this monster tangle of onions is stacked high in paper basket ready to be accompanied by a choice of ketchup, bbq sauce, or ranch dressing.

After tracking down a spot out on the patio, I immediately bypassed my burger and dove into the crown jewels of onion awesomeness before me. Unlike most cookie cutter, over-battered, minimally onion flavored onion rings you find at normal burger joints, these onion rings actually tasted how an onion ring should—mildly sweet, tender to the bite, and most importantly, super crispy. Paper thin almost to the point of transparency, these rings maintained an airiness I’ve never experienced with such a royally caloric dish.

At first bite, the softness of the onion intermingles with its battered counterpart, making for an ethereal contrast of textures. As soon as I finished one clump of rings, my hand immediately gravitated back for another, and another, and another. It’s this deceptive sense of lightness that led me to cap off the basket—with the help of a friend—too fast for comfort.

My fingers grease-stained and seams ready to burst, I felt I had done my first Blimpy experience proud and left with the satisfaction and excitement of conquering yet another Ann Arbor must-eat spot.

So, whether you are a Blimpy virgin—like my former self—or an avid regular, the epic mound of onion rings at Krazy Jim’s Blimpy Burger is more than worthy of its own moment in the spotlight. Just make sure to come early (aka pre-lunch or pre-dinner rush), memorize your order (in order), don’t agitate the staff, and always order your fried fare first thing.

Krazy Jim’s Blimpy Burger 551 South Division Street Ann Arbor, MI 48104