Iconic Restaurants of Ann Arbor

DISCOVERY . Author Gail Offen asked for the photograph of Fowler’s House of Pancakes, and coauthor Jon Milan erroneously gave her Mallis’ Steak Out (above). “Wait,” she gasped, “Isn’t that La Pinata?” Suddenly, they realized it is all three. In some neo-Biblical fashion, Fowler’s begat Mallis, and Mallis begat La Pinata—same building, different food! Then there is the “Gulvazen Effect,” named for countless bars started by Andy Gulvazen himself: Full Moon, Kitty O’Sheas, and many more. Finally, there is “Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon,” the Ann Arbor version. Everyone seems to have encountered a future partner along the way. A destiny from Mike Monahan leads to Paul Saginaw and Maude’s, then on to Zingerman’s. Or Mike Gibbons and Dennis Serras going from the Gandy Dancer to Mainstreet Ventures, with a few others along the way. The authors have dubbed this “The Ann Arbor Food Continuum.” Somehow, this town is small enough, yet big enough, to inspire collaborations, startups, start overs, and reinventions. May the continuum continue. And, hopefully, inspire the next generation of iconic restaurants. (Courtesy of the AADL.)

A RESTAURANT BY ANY OTHER NAME . For nearly 100 years, that low-level brick building with the Italianate arches has stood at 800 South State Street. It is unmistakable, and for most of those years, it was home to the Chatterbox. It was a handy place to breeze in at the corner of Hill Street where one could grab a quick breakfast or a reasonably priced lunch or even meet some friends for an afternoon soda. The place always had a lighthearted flair, as evidenced by the bright orange, mid-1930s menu (left) that flippantly declares “Duncan Hines Was Never Here, Or He Would Have Told You So!” (Left, authors’ collection; below left, courtesy of Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan; below right, courtesy of the Ann Arbor District Library.)

ENOUGH CHATTER . The Chatterbox had quite a run, but by the mid-1970s, it was reborn as the State Street Deli (above left), though externally, little more than the signage seems to have changed. A sub shop replaced it briefly in the 1990s. In more recent years, 800 South State Street has become the home of Quickie Burger Bar and Grill. (Above left, courtesy of the Ann Arbor District Library; above right, authors’ collection.)

NORTHERN EXPOSURE . Once home to the Cloverleaf Dairy, 1015 Broadway Street has been the Northside Grill since 1993. Over the years, Jim Koli’s strictly breakfast and lunch eatery (open daily 7:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m.) has gained quite a fan base. To go along with its unmistakably warm and relaxed local diner feel, there are more than a few favorites to go around. The four deuces features two of four different breakfast items, and the northsider is by far the favorite breakfast sandwich. Come, dig in. (Authors’ collection.)

WATCH THIS SPOT . For many years, the two-story, redbrick building at 328 South Main Street was a small local diner known as the White Spot (above left). Its neon sign still illuminates the mind’s eye of many an old-timer, but by 1986, local restauranteur Dick Schubach (Casey’s, Red Hawk, and others) had transformed it into the trendy 328 South Main Street. In 1991, the building’s menu headed south of the border and reemerged as the Prickly Pear Southwest Café (above right), a popular favorite featuring a tasty twist on what it calls “southwest-inspired specialties.” The Prickly Pear is widely known for its celebrated butternut squash soup, and Olympic swimmer Michael Phelps is a big fan of its buffalo meat enchiladas, but with a wide variety of tasty vegetarian dishes to choose from, it is known for appealing to just about every palate. The warm, comfortable wooden booths offer a cozy and romantic intimacy, and in summer, there is dining al fresco. (Above left, courtesy of the Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan; above right, authors’ collection; below, authors’ collection.)

GOURMET HEYDAY . Tony and Maureen Perrault truly transformed Best Steak House at 217 South State Street (above left), a cafeteria famous for its Texas toast, into the fine-dining restaurant Escoffier (menu, above right). Terry McClymonds, the maître d’ and later co-owner, shaped the elegant, unobtrusive service. Fresh napkins arrived with every course, which may have been cassoulet de fruits de mer, escargot with lime and ginger, or duck with figs and calvados. White chocolate mousse was the signature dessert. Tony was the chef, and Maureen was the sommelier. Known for its extensive wine list, in 1988 it won the equivalent of a wine Oscar from Wine Spectator . It moved to the Bell Tower Hotel on Thayer Street and is now Eve. The slate-shingled structure on State Street is now home to Suvai, Taste of India. (Above left, courtesy of the Ann Arbor District Library; above right, courtesy of the JBLCA; below, authors’ collection.)

MANY MOONS . The Full Moon had two homes on Main Street around 1982. Owner Andy Gulvezan wanted to create an old Chicago feel. He installed Brunswick bars from the late 1800s he brought from the UP. The Moon had 100 different beer bottles plus a club whose members had their own pewter mugs and even a “Hall of Foam.” The favorites were classic bar food: chicken wings and, for many, the best nachos in town. Other quirks included only female bartenders. Some of the waitstaff were U of M cheerleaders who would sometimes do backflips. They also held many charitable events. Everyone from Leonard Bernstein to Miles Davis stopped by the Moon. Andy Gulvezan was the landlord and innovator behind Armadillo Truck Stop, Monkey Bar, Whiffletree, One-Eyed Moose, Kitty O’Sheas, Crow Bar, and many others. When asked about reopening clubs or changing locations, he said, “Sometimes you have to take a step backwards to find exactly what you’re looking for.” Here is Gulvezan (below, middle) taking the first delivery of Frankenmuth Beer. The city closed down the streets for this. (Both, courtesy of Cindy Edwards.)

FLAME /AUT . In 1953, a Greek sailor named Harry Tselios started tending bar at the Cupid on Washington Street. It became the Flame (above), and more than 40 years later, Harry was still behind the bar. The Flame was a dark, smoky, cozy place that was gay-friendly starting in the 1960s. It was also known for its eclectic jukebox and dead plants in the window. Andy Gulvezan bought it in 1984 and, to the dismay of many, cleaned it up. He moved it to Liberty Street in 1995, where it flamed out three years later. Martin Contreras and Keith Orr met at the Flame in 1986. They turned Martin’s mother’s Mexican restaurant in Braun Court into the Aut Bar (right) in 1995, a sunny and welcoming place for the LGBTQ community and their straight friends. A popular weekend brunch features specialties like huevos motulenos and strawberry margaritas. Contrera and Orr also run the neighboring Common Language Bookstore and do numerous benefits and fundraiser. (Above, photograph by Jim Rees; right, authors’ collection.)

FROM MOVIES TO MANGIA . With a big city but intimate vibe, stepping into Gratzi (left) always feels like the beginnings of a entertaining evening. And that is a tradition, as it started as the Orpheum Theater in 1913. (An original theater token is seen in the inset below). In 1987, Gratzi began its culinary tour through Italy, with its seasonally and regionally updated menu. Opening week was a challenge; the menu was in Italian, and they had not yet translated the names for the kitchen staff, causing confusion. Many zuppes and dolcis later, Gratzi is a Main Street landmark. Chef John Fischer regularly adds new tastes while keeping favorites like calamari, branzino, mezzaluna pasta, and tiramisu. The restaurant itself gets a face-lift every few years. In fact, while recently redoing the kitchen, they found five layers of floors underneath. No matter what, the bacchanal mural (below) stays, and many people stop by just to toast it. (Both, authors’ collection.)

HAWKING GREAT FOOD . In 1992, the building at 316 South State Street broke a 100-year tradition as a bookstore and began providing more to digest than the printed word. That is when the Red Hawk came to roost, offering a unique menu that includes homemade stocks, sauces, and dressings. The Hawk is known for actively supporting local retailers and nonprofits and even features menu items that provide a portion of purchases to the Michigan Theater and the University Music Society. (Authors’ collection.)

CASEY ’S AT THE BAR . Folks can “pull up some lumber” at 304 Depot Street, but they will not find any for sale. Since 1986, the historic building that once housed Washtenaw Lumber has been home to Casey’s Tavern (above), several times recipient of Current Magazine ’s “Best Burger in Town” award—no small achievement in this town! With a full menu and daily blackboard specials, Casey’s walks the talk—“Lots of Good Cheap Food and Dozens of Beers.” (Authors’ collection.)

FOOD ON THE TRACKS . It was Michigan Central’s finest depot between Buffalo and Chicago. Built in 1886, the Romanesque giant boasted a garden and remained a popular stop for students, celebrities, and politicians until the golden age of train travel came to an end. In 1970, restauranteur Chuck Muer gave it new life as the Gandy Dancer, a restaurant with a railroad theme where waitstaff wore engineer outfits and sang “I’ve been workin’ on the railroad” as trains passed. A Muer meal was an event, and diners enjoyed Charley’s chowder, the Down East feast, key lime pie, and salt and poppy seed topped bread. Many future restauranteurs also got their start here, including Mike Gibbons of Mainstreet Ventures, who remembers how they would turn tables by having the pianist play Elton John’s “Burn Down the Mission.” “Somehow it always did the trick!” Sadly, Chuck Muer was lost at sea in 1993, but the Gandy Dancer, now owned by the Landry Corporation, rolls on. (Both, authors’ collection.)

MAKE IT A REVOLUTION ON RYE . Never underestimate the power of pastrami and passion—they can start revolutions. In 1982, Paul Saginaw and Ari Weinzweig, two of Maude’s veterans, teamed up and went off in search of genuine, soulful deli food, a quest that soon begat Zingerman’s (it was almost named Greenberg’s) in an old grocery on Detroit Street. From the beginning, everything had to be up to their now legendary standards, including their commitment of driving 40 miles to Oak Park every day to get true double-baked Jewish rye. Eventually, they decided to make their own, and in 1992, they teamed up with another Maude’s veteran, Frank Corollo, to establish the Zingerman’s Bakehouse (below left). The mail-order business followed in 1993, and very soon, magic brownies, babka, and monthly bacon club selections were winging their way across the country. The monthly newsletters (below right) became newsy, chatty long-form journalism. Ian Nagy’s distinctive art style suddenly had people craving drawings almost as much as the food. (Both, authors’ collection.)

TAKE A NUMBER . THEY ARE DELICIOUS . It is one of the few places people order sandwiches by their number. Even President Obama had one of its Reubens during his 2014 visit. He shared his sandwich, then immediately regretted it. Zingerman’s is one of the few places people are willing and even happy to stand in line. During football Saturdays, it is a bit like the DMV but with better smells. (Authors’ collection.)

ALL IN THE FAMILY . In time, the Zingerman’s Community of Businesses (above left) expanded to include the Creamery (above right); gelato, coffee, and candy companies; and Zingerman’s Roadhouse. All this passion has been captured in books and even ZingTrain, a consulting/training business run by yet another Maude’s veteran, Maggie Bayless. The Zingerman’s philosophy is that every day is a chance to improve. The search for true deli food ultimately led to finding traditional food from around the world. (Authors’ collection.)

E. PLURIBUS UNUSUAL . Some unique family businesses make only one product wonderfully. Zingerman’s makes several wonderful products themselves—like cream cheese, candy, and gelato. “It’s all about finding people with the passion and introducing them to our philosophy of ‘visioning’,” noted Ari Weinzweig, cofounder. “When people focus on the end result rather than logistical issues, they start thinking about what success looks and feels like, and creative, out-of-the-box ideas flow more freely.” Below left, Zingerman’s founders Paul Saginaw and Ari Weinzweig are pictured around 1982. Below right, the cofounders are pictured many loaves later. (Above, authors’ collection; below, courtesy of Zingerman’s.)