Sweet child o' mine, with claws

Brunch with Becks is an ongoing weekend series where I wax poetic on tales from my life starting with the 9 Truths. Yes, I too can’t comprehend that all these odd occurrences have happened to me.

My life was changing quickly at the ripe old age of 19. I moved out of the dorms and into my first apartment—a beautiful studio with built-ins for the staggering rent of $240 a month.

After settling in, I went to the Humane Society, just to look at the cute kittens. I really wasn’t planning on walking out the door with one. Silly me!

But she found me! This 8-week old kitten looked into my eyes and immediately became a part of me.

She was a tortoiseshell with a dark brown stripe down her nose and a bright pink tongue. I would brag that she had 1 beige paw with pink pads and 3 brown paws with brown pads.

She needed a name though. She lived the first two weeks of her life with me nameless as I agonized over the perfect moniker. The name had to fit her personality and we needed to get to know each other.

My boyfriend at the time, the guy whose name wasn’t Chip, had just moved in with his friends. They were Guns N’ Roses loving fraternity boys. They had drunken parties and they hated cats. This could be a problem.

They joked that I should name her Slash, after the lead guitarist from their favorite band.

I wasn’t convinced. Yet.

My most prized possession was my Keith Haring print that I bought at his Pop Shop in New York City while I was in high school. It hung proudly on my wall, centered above my futon.

Standing on her back legs on the top of the futon, she reached up and tore through the print with one slash. With that one action, she not only found her name but also her cover. The boys would think I named her after their Slash.

And it worked! I think the boys even began to like her although they would never admit it.

Soon after, the frat boys brought home a very cute black lab puppy. Of course, they named her Izzy, after Izzy Stradlin from the same band. Thank god none of our pets ended up being named Axl!

Slash was my constant companion for 14 years. She was there for every broken heart and all the happy moments, every move from Milwaukee to Chicago to Detroit, and everything in between. She was my best friend, my sweet child, my baby girl.

Slash even met my husband. She hissed at Andy and attempted to claw his face. I’m pretty sure that was her nod of approval. Or maybe, she was afraid that someone else was about to become the love of my life.

A taste of old world charm at Eagle Tavern in Greenfield Village

I have a confession to make. Although I have been to The Henry Ford Museum many times since moving back to Detroit I haven’t stepped foot into Greenfield Village since I was a young whippersnapper. It was probably a school field trip or perhaps my parents took me there. I remember the old houses and quaint shops but that’s about it.

My husband has never been to Greenfield Village and I keep putting this destination on our list, for whatever reason it hasn’t happened over the last two summers. This year will be different. I had the opportunity for a short visit this week to have lunch in the historic Village.

The idyllic Eagle Tavern sits on the edge of the 80-acres of Greenfield Village and takes you back to a slower, quieter time. The tavern was originally built in 1831 in Clinton, Michigan. Greeted by costumed staff, we were sat in the comfortable room with no harsh lighting, just candlelight and sunshine streaming through the windows.

The lady of the pub came over for a quick chat and joked that the three women at the table should head out to California where there are 10 men to every 1 woman due to the gold rush. She also explained the sleeping quarters above the tavern and warned that, “we don’t let people sleep with strangers here,” to giggles from the very mature adults at the table.

The food and drinks at the Eagle Tavern are locally sourced, either from within 150 miles or the state of Michigan.

“Our menu reflects both the seasonal nature and availability of foods in mid-19^th-century Michigan and offers a selection of both alcoholic and temperance drinks of the period.” ~ from the menu at the Eagle Tavern

The recipes are authentic, taken from the cookbooks of the 1860’s and such, and every thing is made from scratch. Even the cocktails are subject to the historian’s critical perspective. No, you’re not going to be able to get the trendy drink of the moment but the cocktails and beer they do have are tasty.

Top: Salmagundi. Left: Savory Noodles. Right: Motor City Brew Works beer.

The menu changes seasonally three times a year. The spring menu included a fabulous dish of Savory Noodles with peas and lettuce, Chicken Croquette, and Beef Steak Pie. The stewed mushrooms were a standout side dish and Salmagundi plate is a must have. The Midnight Cake was heavenly, a chocolate dream.

Of course, we had to sample some cocktails too. The authentic Mint Julep packs a punch. Motor City Brew Works brews special beer and ale specifically for Greenfield Village. The Menlo Light Beer is a perfect sitting-on-the-porch beer. The bottle is even designed to resemble a light bulb. The Steam Station Beer is a bit hoppy and goes great with food.

After lunch, I had a few minutes to wander the grounds. Even though I had been here before it was all new to me again and I walked around with child-like wonder.

I watched as two young men sheered a lamb the oldy-worldy way as they told me about Merino wool. The lamb was very well behaved considering it takes hours to accomplish the task. And I even got to witness the baby lambs first day out of the barn, wobbling around and exploring new territory!

Baby lamb in mid baa and with all its lamby friends.

Yes, this year I’ll finally get my husband to Greenfield Village for the first time! Stay tuned for further tales from Greenfield Village. 

Detroit Moxie's Weekend Roundup

There is only one thing to say today. Let's go Red Wings!

Weekend Roundup

1. Northern Lights 1966: The Powerful Story of Detroit Students Who Stood Up For Their Rights and Won - The Mosaic Youth Theatre of Detroit premieres this original play with music at the DFT. It tells the story of students at Northern High School who fought for their rights. May 13-15, 20-22.

2. Great Lakes Taiko - Japanese drumming bangs on at Friday Night Live! at the DIA. It's a treat for both the ears and eyes. May 13th.

3. WYCD Downtown Hoedown - Yeehaw! National and local country acts take to Hart Plaza for a 3-day concert that will attract around a million people. Channel 7 anchor Stephen Clark and The Trending Topics perform on Sunday. May 13-15.

4. Farm Days at Maybury Farms - Fun for the whole family down on the farm! Sheep sheering, hay rides, tractors, entertainment and baby animals. Baby animals! May 14-15.

5. Flower Day at Eastern Market - Get your green thumbs ready! Annuals, perennials, shrubs, trees and more. Over 150,000 people visit the flower show, which is one of the largest in the country. May 15th.

6. Motor City Comic Con - Love comic books and pop culture? Then this is the place to be! Merchandise and memorabilia, costume contests, and comic book creators will be on hand. May 13-15.

Do you know of a great event going on in Metro Detroit this weekend? Add it to the comments and share it with us!

Mark's Carts serves up street food in Ann Arbor

Mark’s Carts, an outdoor food courtyard, opened in Ann Arbor yesterday to sunny skies, long lines and juicy morsels of street food. The food carts are individually owned and operated and serve up creative fare. Mark Hodesh, the owner of Downtown Home and Garden, created this gathering place, a social hub of food and conversation.

Mark Hodesh of Mark's Carts (center).

Five carts were in operation on the opening day with two more slated to start soon (People’s Pierogi Collective and San Street weren’t open as of Monday.):

• Darcy’s Cart – Offering up dishes featuring local ingredients.

• Debajo del Sol – Spanish-style tapas and paella.

• eat – Hot meat on a bun.

• Humble Hogs – Slow cooked food served fast.

• The Lunch Room – High quality vegan fare.

• Peolple’s Pierogi Collective – Traditional and experimental Polish pierogies.

• San Street – Asian street food.

We perused each menu in the courtyard before making our choices. We decided to start at Darcy’s Cart, which had the longest lines.

I had two tacos, one black bean and one carnitas and my husband had the Perro Caliente, a chorizo sausage topped with sauerkraut and crema. The tacos were small but full of fresh flavor and for $2 it packed a punch. The Perro Caliente was a huge concoction of interesting tastes. The warm mushroom salad, which we didn’t order, looked amazing!

For a last small bite and to satisfy my curiosity for different takes on corndogs, we tried the chorizo corndogs from Debajo del Sol. Two individual balls of corndog goodness were served on separate sticks with an aioli for dipping. The outer shell was soft and slightly sweet which contrasted nicely with the spice of the chorizo.

For the first day, everything seemed to go rather smooth. Yes, the wait in the lines was long, there were few places to sit, and the carts started running out of food. But those are all good things! It proves that people need and want innovative, fresh and local food at a decent price.

If you’re in Ann Arbor be sure to check it out. I’d like to hear what you think.

Would I love to see something like this in Detroit? Do I dream of food trucks motoring around Detroit like they do in other major cities? Heck yeah! But that’s fodder for another post.

I almost had Paris

Brunch with Becks is an ongoing weekend series where I wax poetic on tales from my life starting with the 9 Truths. Yes, I too can’t comprehend that all these odd occurrences have happened to me.

I met Henning at my local bar in Chicago in the late 90s. He had met one of the cooks who worked at the bar a few days before who said he should stop in to the bar for dinner. Henning took that to mean that he would be having a free meal at the bar. Henning was German.

Now, before I get too far into this story I should tell you two things.

First, I grew up in an All-American family on the most All-American street that ever existed. We played All-American sports such as baseball and football. Oh, and we bowled. We’re Polish; we’d be kicked out of the family if we didn’t bowl.

Isn’t it ironic

I only mention this because it seems a bit ironic, only in the Alanis Morissette sense, that my brother and I both married foreigners. I’m sure you all have figured out that my husband is an Englishman. What you might not know is that my brother married Anna, who is from Poland. I mean, she’s from the Mother Country! Born and raised in Poland.

Second, before I met and married my husband, I dated Henning the German, a Scot, an Aussie, and two other Englishmen. I remember my mom asking me, “Don’t you like American men?” I love American men and dated many; they just didn’t seem to like me as much as I liked them. And the accents! I’m a sucker for an accent.

Back to the German

Henning was attractive, charming and younger than me. We went to a concert on our first date. We met up with other friends afterward, including my roommate Catie, and all of us ended up back at our teeny tiny condo.

The dashing German was a flight attendant for United Airlines and his usual route was to Düsseldorf. But he was on call that night. He called and was put on a trip to Paris. Without missing a beat, he asked if I would join him. The flight and the hotel would be free. 48 hours in Paris!

I thought about it for quite a while. I had to get out of my work schedule on the spot. And it was 2 o’clock in the morning. I made a few phone calls and figured out how to make it work.

By 4:00 a.m., Catie and I were discussing outfits and what I should pack and dreaming of Paris. Paris on a date!

All of a sudden, I stopped. “I’m not going to Paris,” I said to the group. Reality hit and it hit hard. Paris wasn’t in my immediate future. I had two hours to dream about it and then I realized… I didn’t have a passport. I wasn’t going anywhere.

Henning and I only dated for a short while but we became very close friends. Henning and his coworker John became a part of “The Tuesday Night Group,” a handful of friends from different walks of life who would gather each week.

Other things you should know about Henning

Henning had a party at his apartment and he passed out hot towels making all the guests feel like they were sitting in First Class. He put a sign over the toilet that said, “Men must sit to pee.” Ponder that for a bit but he really didn’t like splash. And he searched out early bird deals more than a retiree in Florida.

He was charming but particular.

In September of 1999, I left Chicago and “The Tuesday Night Group” kicking and screaming all the way back to Detroit. They wanted to throw me a going away party but I declined. My 30^th birthday was a few weeks away and I promised them I would be back for it.

It’s my party and I cried because I wasn’t there

They all gathered on my 30^th birthday and waited for me. I was stuck in Detroit. Around 7 p.m. I finally told them it wasn’t going to happen. I couldn’t make my own party.

We tried to stay in touch but it doesn’t always work out. This was before Facebook and Twitter.

Then 9/11 happened. In the wee hours afterwards I searched through old phone numbers and finally found one that worked. I talked to John, not Henning, they were both fine but lost a friend and other coworkers. Henning had married. Everyone had moved on with their lives.

Paris, finally!

Henning, we almost had Paris but it wasn’t met to be.

I finally made it to the City of Light with my English husband, my All-American brother and my Polish sister-in-law in 2008. I hope you and the rest of “The Tuesday Night Group” are well. I treasured our time together, on Tuesday nights, solving the worlds’ problems while having a drink and the cheapest bite to eat.