What Recovery Looks Like Two Years Later

“I had no idea you were such a morning person,” my friend Beth commented during my visit to Louisiana. “Beth, that’s because when I stayed with you after Katrina, I was so worn out every day – now I’m here for fun!”
I did feel guilty gadding about , while there is still so much work to be done. One afternoon Beth and I drove up to Renaissance Village, at one time the largest of the FEMA trailer parks. There still appear to be about 400 trailers (down from 1,500), and they’re closing entirely as of June 1. When I was working at Renaissance in late November of 2005, the residents hung Christmas lights and put decorations on the front stoops of their trailers. Two years down the road, they don't appear to have the heart any more for decorations. And where these folks will go, I don't know. As you're entering the French Quarter, some of the gloomy, boarded-up old public housing buildings sit ominously along the edges of Rampart Street. The city has finally cleared the channels to demolish these projects, but support appears to be mixed at best for the alternative plan for its neediest citizens, like the people in Renaissance Village who will have to find a new place to live come May.

And Beth, Daddy, and their friends fretted about me going to New Orleans by myself when six people were shot, with two dead, in the Central City area on Christmas night. And while crime is a big problem, I couldn’t NOT go. Before leaving Beth’s I did a little research on Brad Pitt’s “Make it Right” initiative, and drove straight out to the Lower Ninth Ward to check out the pink tent city.

My friends in New Orleans seem to feel Brad Pit and Angelina Jolie are sincere in their commitment to the city. And if you judge only by the “Make it Right” website, it’s hard not to be impressed. But when you drive out to the huge, open field that used to be a large chunk of the Lower Ninth, it’s daunting– despite the giant pink monopoly pieces. I’m mean, for instance, as far as I could tell there still aren’t any electrical poles and wires out there. It’s cheering to imagine the award-winning designed little houses popping up like crocus after a long winter, but anybody who’s had any experience in post-K recovery knows that NOTHING is going to happen until the utilities get straightened out.

I also stopped by Habitat for Humanity’s Musician’s Village. (right) Unlike the more controversial “Brad Pitt”houses, these somewhat emulate the familiar “shotgun” style of the area. But, I could not figure out why they weren’t built higher? I understand it costs about an extra $15k to build up one storey on stilts, but I just don’t get it. And it’s not like Katrina was a once in a lifetime event – a friend told me the Lower Ninth flooded during Betsy, and of course most expect it to flood again. Sarah, a blogger in New Orleans, offers a little insight – it sounds like it is related to whether or not a house is in a historic district, and whether or not it qualifies for the extra funds to pay for the added height. But still doesn’t make much sense to me…

And finally, while previous posts waxed rhapsodic about my favorite eateries and businesses that all appear to be up and running, not all have survived. La Madeleine on Jackson Square never reopened (though rumor has it that Chef Boswell of Stella! will reopen Stanley, his breakfast and lunch place, in that prime location). Some of the best redfish smothered in crawfish sauce that I’ve ever eaten was served at Mike Anderson’s on Bourbon (photo above) . But, like many New Orleans residents themselves, the restaurant has permanently decamped to Baton Rouge. And then there’s Hillery’s. Our defacto lobby bar across the street from Olivier House, over the years we got to know owners Ed and Hillery Moise, and bartenders Gregory and Jerry. After managing to limp along for months after the storm, they closed up shop two months ago.

But, here’s the thing. Owning a business is always a tricky proposition – Ed and Hillery might have closed regardless, storm or no storm. And in this economy we’re all being forced to hunker down, look after our own, and hope that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. Circumstances and an infuriating bureaucracy have thrown a seemingly infinite number of obstacles in the path of these folks. But for the first time in two years I sensed optimism, and I saw a physical manifestation of the resiliency of our fellow citizens in New Orleans. It may not be the light at the end of the tunnel, but at least they’re not about to drive off a cliff in the dark.

Tourists–and the Party–Return to New Orleans

A look at the bright side of New Orleans since my last visit slightly over a year ago...
Check out this line at Café du Monde. The town is crawling with tourists. Between the Christmas holiday, the Sugar Bowl, the BCS game, and a convention of economists, I have not seen the French Quarter this busy since pre-K times, and business wasn’t too shabby over on Magazine Street, either.

And joy of joys, my favorite oyster house has finally reopened! albeit in a smaller space. I can’t tell you the number of times I've stood outside Felix's on Iberville with my nose pressed up against the glass wondering when they’d reopen and I could sit down to a mess of fried crawfish tails. It could be rose-colored-glasses syndrome, but my Felix experience this visit surpassed even my most golden memories. The tails seemed plumper and hotter, the remoulade fresher, and the service was definitely faster and friendlier.

And how ‘bout Hoi Polloi over on Chartres Street? The irony that swanky, girly store owner Lisa Shedlock would find success easier to achieve in post-K New Orleans than on Main Street was not lost on those of us who follow the downtown A2 retail scene. Lisa wasn’t in the store, but her mom Elise (above left) said they’ve had good luck with new lines like PJ Salvage and Maven Cosmetics, and they have high hopes for strong sales as the BCS looms.

Speaking of the BCS game, check out the swag for sale in the recently refurbished French Market (the work on the flea market side is complete, and they don’t seem far from done on the fresh produce side). Like the rest of the French Quarter, business in the Market was hopping.

What about Bourbon Street? Wednesday night after drinking this go-cup (strawberry, kiwi, and 151 rum) from one of the five dozen daiquiri places, the quality of my photography understandably deteriorated. But America’s unique corridor of bawd seems back to its licentious self, and as always there was considerable police presence to make the tourists feel safe. Katie (below right) is a local college junior, and I asked if her parents worried about her job. “I’ve worked on Bourbon since I was 18, and never had any real trouble.” If The Button fed me that line I wouldn’t believe her for a second, but as my local companion said, “it’s different for kids who grow up in New Orleans.” Imagine just how much different for the Katrina generation...

Oh, and as if the run-of-the-mill liquor flowing on Bourbon weren’t enough, did you know absinthe is legal in the U.S. again? Scott, a bartender at Tony Moran’s (the restaurant connected to the Old Absinthe House), poured us a free tasting. Sugar cube, lighting on fire, the whole nine yards. Ick. That anise flavor that I don’t care for. But the charcuterie plate (left) we ordered was mighty fine.

At the far end of Bourbon, a sad note for fans of Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop, the piano bar in the oldest (supposedly) building in the French Quarter. Johnny Gordon, their ancient piano player, has Alzheimer's and retired to South Carolina. For as long as I can remember, Johnny has been banging away “Piano Man,” the entire Elton John catalog, and on a couple occasions made a good natured attempt to pound out “Tubthumping” after I sang it (off key) for him. I took this photo in November of 2005, when it was essentially a few Quarter locals and relief workers like my buddy and me singing along. Johnny, you’ll be missed.

"Tubthumping" has always been an anthem of sorts for my friend Kelly and me when we're in New Orleans. But, come to think of it, what an appropriate song for New Orleans as the city continues to try to rebuild.

I get knocked down
But I get up again
You're never going to
Keep me down

More to come in my next post about the more serious side of recovery.

Where Y'at?

Warning: This post has absolutely nothing to do with Ann Arbor, except that I’m writing it.

Holiday greetings from Louisiana! The Brouhaha is being brought to you this morning from The Cottage, our home away from home at the Olivier House Hotel in New Orleans. Over the years I’ve become friends with the Danner family, owners of Olivier, and they are always kind enough to let me decamp to one of their nicest (and most quirky) accommodations. Long ago, The Cottage was actually the home of an elderly lady – it has a kitchen, working gas fireplace in the parlor, and the little private courtyard off the hotel pool that you see in the photo at right. When the lady passed away, the Danner’s bought the house and made it a part of their hotel. Tres jolie!

I’ve been in Louisiana since before Christmas, enjoying a somewhat sub-tropical take on the holidays. I spent five relaxing days in Baton Rouge, where my hostess Beth threw a party at her lovely new home on Sunday night (photo left). The weather was 55 degrees, clear and beautiful, but everyone was complaining about the cold. Meanwhile, I was running around barefoot! And I totally overdosed on bourbon punch, sweet potato casserole, butter beans, cornbread dressing, and turkey (not to mention enough chicken salad sandwiches to feed a small army). They really know how to eat and drink down here, but I’m afraid to check my cholesterol level or step on a scale. And Beth's father gave me electronic files of all his late wife's recipes. I told Beth that since I don't have a legacy of down home cooking in my own family, I'm going to co-opt hers!

Speaking of fantastic food and fearing the scale, I have to tell you that I enjoyed a meal last evening that probably has to go into my top ten pantheon of dining experiences. I’ve been wanting to go to Stella! in New Orleans for years, but usually haven’t been able to convince my traveling companions because the food isn’t Louisiana vernacular. Since I was on my own last night, I dashed down to the little place on Chartres Street in the French Quarter and found a slice of culinary heaven.

The meal started with an amuse bouche of Tasmanian wild salmon served sashimi style with a kimchi and mango sauce. Loved it. Then I ordered the foie gras appetizer, which was grilled and served over a toasted brioche with CHEESE GELATO (don’t ask me why, but this worked) and a drizzle of wild blueberry sauce. The rich, buttery foie gras combined with crunchy bread and the cool, creamy cheese of the gelato brought together several layers of “mouth feel” that were as surprising as they were delicious. For my entrée, I ordered one of the restaurant’s signature dishes, Duck Five Ways. The two more traditional preparations, the seared duck breast and the "laquered" leg and thigh, were perfect. But the duck miso soup and the moo shoo crepe interpretations were only so-so, and the wontons were not appealing at all. The niblet of foie gras in the middle slid out of the wonton like a little glob of fat. So, while not a home-run, the entrée was definitely a stand-up double.

After all that, how could I have had room for dessert? Yet, when I heard my waiter Adam describe the grilled cheese and chocolate to my neighboring table as his favorite thing on the menu, how could I resist? Yes, you read that correctly – grilled cheese and chocolate. It was a little sandwich of brie and dark chocolate, buttered, grilled, and drizzled with more of that lovely wild blueberry sauce. To. Die. For. Speaking of Adam, the service was certainly top notch. Discreet and knowledgeable, plus a team of non-uniformed hosts who would swoop in to assist. And I was impressed that Owner/Chef Scott Boswell was actually in the restaurant, out mingling among the guests. I was also impressed by the rose petals in the loo. Since I was too self-conscious to take flash photos of the food in the small, dark dining room (even I have limits), I thought you’d find this pic entertaining.

Besides eating like a glutton, social calling has been on my agenda and one day I drove over to Lafayette to visit Arthur and Terry McViccar. They are Ann Arbor expatriates recently relocated to be closer to family in Louisiana, and you may have known Arthur as the facilities manager at the Michigan Theater. They are living the bayou life, literally – they’ve got crawfish, fig and pecan trees, and a menagerie of pets. "I haven't quite gotten into the whole Cajun lifestyle yet," Arthur told me. "For instance, I didn't offer you a beer when you walked in the door this morning, and I didn't offer you a beer for the drive home."

In addition to visiting with Art and Terry, I was invited to attend a Christmas Eve Bonfire, a holiday tradition along the River. Trent and Kay James live in 150-year-old Creole-style plantation house named Bagatelle that they inherited from his family. Located on the River in Iberville Parish, the house was originally downriver in St. James Parish, but–get this– Trent and Kay put it on a barge and moved it upriver 30 years ago! They felt the area in St. James was getting too industrialized. On Christmas Eve, they invite all their friends and family to an open house and bonfire. Trent spent weeks building up the pile of wood, and after a generous dose of diesel they lit it around 7pm and I have to tell you, the flames must have been shooting 30 or 40 feet into the air. Biggest damn fire I've ever seen. And as if that weren't enough pyro, they set off fireworks, too! "Do you have to get a permit to do this?" I asked Kay and her daughter Kate (right). They turned and looked at me like I was some kind of crazy woman.

Two years after Katrina, many residents of Louisiana like the James family appear to be going about their lives much as they did pre-storm. In my next post, I’ll tell you a little bit about what I’ve observed of the people and places who continue to be impacted by recovery from the worst natural disaster in our history.

The Buzz in Bethlehem

The youth group at the First United Methodist Church on State Street performs “What’s the Buzz in Bethlehem?” every year during the holiday season as a fundraiser (view video clip). Highschoolers have the prime speaking parts, and this year The Button’s friend Katie played Rebecca, one of the innkeeper’s daughters.

“There’s always much mayhem with bees,” was how Katie’s mom described the somewhat revisionist interpretation of the Nativity story.

We are the bees
We are the bees
We swarm, we sing, watch out we sting!
We’re here at the King David Inn

We are the bees
We are the bees
We come to this inn to visit our kin
We’re here at the King David Inn

In addition to the usual complications of too many guests (including a drama troupe from Jerusalem), the inn suffers from an infestation of bumble bees and one particularly precocious wasp named Tyler. I’ve seen “What’s the Buzz” over three or four years, and even an unreconstructed heathen like me gets a warm, fuzzy feeling every time.

Merry Christmas Ann Arbor!

Security Cameras at Pioneer

I attended the informational meeting about security cameras at Pioneer High School last night. ('Cause I don't have anything better to do on a cold, blustery Monday night during the holiday season.)

Before attending, I was actually pro-cameras. I really didn't feel that our children should have an expectation of privacy in the hallways and parking lots of the school when their safety is at stake. But, based on the presentation by administrators at the meeting, safety isn't really the issue. Crime incidents at the school are primarily property theft related.

School officials feel that cameras will help successfully "close" criminal incidents, as well as allow intervention in fights or trouble before they actually happen and thus lead to a safer school. Yet they didn't produce any data to back up these assertions - they didn't even come prepared with numbers analyzing Huron's usage of cameras for the last six months, let alone comparable data from schools in Michigan that have used video surveillance for a longer period of time. And if there's one thing I can't stand (actually, there are a lot of things I can't stand...), it's when someone expects people to make a decision based upon generalizations without the data to back them up. It's sloppy, I don't like it in business meetings, and I certainly don't like it when civil liberties are at stake.

I was so irritated that I fired off an email to Superintendent Robertson, Principal White, the school board, and some of my fellow lefties in the ACLU. Here it is...

"I am the mother of a 9th grader at Pioneer and I attended last evening’s information meeting in the Little Theater at school. I try to be an informed and responsible parent whose eyes are wide-open to the realities of our world today. And it is soul wrenching to me that a couple times each year my daughter and I have to review her “emergency exit, phones don’t work” strategy.

Going into the informational meeting, I had the opinion that security cameras SHOULD be installed at the school. However, after weighing the information presented last night, as well as assessing other data and opinions, I have changed my mind. Not the intended effect, I’d imagine.

Principal White did an excellent job of outlining how video surveillance would be simply one tool in a menu of methods for achieving a safe environment at Pioneer. All present seemed to agree that “human” measures are best, and I was not aware that the school district already employs assistants whose responsibilities sound very similar to that of private security, simply without the uniforms.

That said, administrators do not appear to have historical data that indicates “non-human measures, ” i.e. security cameras , would decrease the number of criminal incidents. If such data from comparable schools (Plymouth Canton for instance) were available I assume it would have been presented. However, I do find it reasonable that video surveillance can assist in the resolution of crimes, and I’m surprised such information was not compiled and distributed last night.

As the daughter of a principal, I can imagine what it’s like for Principal White and the other administrators to be on the receiving end of phone calls from the parents of children who have had items stolen. And I understand that the hours spent on learning the whole story of an incident could be time better spent. But our students should not sacrifice their right to privacy during school hours` for the sake of solving primarily property crimes more easily.

Property crimes aside, Principal White and Officer Foster feel that monitoring video will help the assistants anticipate trouble and send staff to intervene in potentially volatile situations. Video surveillance did not prevent the mall shooting in Omaha, nor other recent high-profile incidents. And while I realize that incidents that WERE prevented by video surveillance don’t produce headlines, again I would assume that if there were data to support this it would have been presented.

One of my primary concerns is the access to the video files, and this was not addressed at all last evening. How long would the files be stored? Who would have access to them? How would they be erased? In light of recent news regarding our government’s “mishandling” of videotapes, my small faith in the ability of government institutions to deal in a forthright manner with evidence and documents has been reduced to an infinitely small level. Installing the cameras as administration essentially says “trust us” is simply not acceptable.

Finally, Pioneer is open 20 hours a day and to me that is the most cogent point made all evening. As a compromise, I would suggest that cameras be installed but only turned on “after hours.” This would address several concerns. Children are required to attend school, and thus don’t have a choice regarding whether or not to submit to video surveillance if the cameras are on during the day. After hours activities are a choice – just as I can choose to not shop at the mall if I object to security cameras, children AND adults can choose to not attend after hours activities at Pioneer. Also, it seems that some of the most disturbing thefts – the new mixing board, lockers cut open with a bolt cutter, car thefts– have occurred after hours. Video surveillance would assist in solving these crimes while impacting the fewest number of people. My daughter and I discussed this compromise over breakfast this morning, and she seemed to find it reasonable, “Yeah, that would help catch the kids from Huron who trash our cars after games,” she said. (all issues devolve to the cross-town rivalry, it seems) Principal White told the audience that the teaching staff overwhelmingly support the use of cameras, and I would suggest that an “after hours” compromise would address their concerns as well. Intellectually I know that surveillance cameras won’t make me safer in the parking lot or an isolated hallway at night, I would find it psychologically comforting.

In the wake of the Omaha mall shooting, this excerpt from an Associated Press article is particularly relevant:

'Reed Nyffeler, director of sales and marketing at Omaha-based Signal 88 Security, said his firm had received dozens of calls from local stores since Wednesday inquiring about stepped-up security measures. The holiday season is especially challenging for mall security because of the throngs of shoppers, making it difficult for employees and guards to keep track of potentially suspicious people, he said.'

During the day, the congested hallways of Pioneer are even worse than a crowded mall –security surveillance just won’t do that much good, and it impinges on the right to privacy of our children and sets a bad example. But in the evening, when school staff are not present and the district cannot afford to have the preferred “human” presence of the assistants, I think security cameras are a viable solution (though video file storage and access issues would still require clarification).

Both Principal White and Officer Foster stressed that the Ann Arbor School District has always been a leader. I would suggest that in this case, we lead by NOT blithely accepting 24/7 surveillance cameras in our high schools as have other districts. The erosion of our children’s constitutional rights for the sake of solving a property crime more easily or a mistaken sense of security should not be the “new normal,” at least not here in Ann Arbor. We can do better than that, and we can show how civil liberties and “law and order” contingents can reach an effective compromise."

TubaChristmas!

What could be more simple, more joyful, than TubaChristmas? Believe it or not, TubaChristmas is nation-wide! And in addition to Ann Arbor, eight other cities throughout Michigan participate in the seasonal, brass concerts. The first event was at Rockefeller Plaza in New York City in 1974, conceived as a tribute to the late artist/teacher William J. Bell who born on Christmas Day, 1902. Tuba on! (view video clip)

Season of Giving

Busch’s, FM 107, and Food Gatherers are conducting their annual “Rockin’ for the Hungry” food drive at the South Main grocery this weekend. Busch’s makes it easy to donate by offering grocery bags (right) that are pre-filled with appropriate canned and dried goods. For $10, you get $17 worth of food that you simply drop off with the volunteers on your way out.

With the radio station broadcasting live ("we're freezin' for a reason") from the store’s porte cochere, they’ve gathered over 120 tons of food as of lunchtime Saturday. April and Erin are volunteers from the Culinary Arts program at WCC – they were loading a second truck, and counted over 20 skids in the big trailer!


(Sung to the melody of “Jingle Bell Rock”)
Tags for all
Have a ball
Tag Days are here.
Donate to us, and bring kids some cheer
Good cheer is coming, to all the sick kids
Innn Mott, and Wash-te-naw!
It’s the ri-ght time
To make a beee line,
And grab a tag from us.
Tag Days is to-day
Don’t let it get a-way
Without helping out ALL those kids!

Singing with gusto, Jon and Stefan are second -year medical students at the U. Jon and another student, Ajay, “doctored” the lyrics in honor of the annual Galens Tag Days fundraiser. Galens is the University of Michigan Medical School’s honor society, and since 1927 they've raised funds for local children’s charities every year in December.

Donate money into the Galens’ bucket and you receive the eponymous tag to hang on your coat, thus able to proceed about your holiday excursions guilt-free and unharassed. This year they’re raising money for several different worthy causes, including the Corner Clinic and a playroom at the new Mott’s building.

(My love affair with malapropisms started early, and back in college I thought “Galens Tag” was some sort of Ann Arbor/German thing, akin to “guten tag.”)

These two young men clearly pulled one of the primo locations in town to solicit – right in front of Great Harvest Bread Company. Benefiting from free bread and hot cocoa courtesy of GHB, Jon and Stefan told me that the “Happy Van” fortifies all the volunteers. It’s supplied and driven by supportive med school faculty, and there’s even a song for when the Happy Van arrives…

(Sung to the melody of “Here Comes Santa Claus”)
Here comes Happy Van
Here comes Happy Van
Right down South Main Street
Careening over curb, and loaded with snacks and
Other things unnamed.
Look at the wa-cky fa-cul-ty, with smiles so happy and bright.
Keep it pouring into my mug, and maybe I’ll survive the night…

Lloyd Carr Replacement Rumor Fever...Catch It!

Notes from the rumor mill. Because no one is immune.
Sunday, November 11
Reliable source has friend in Ann Arbor real estate who says Les Miles has made an offer on a house in Barton Hills.

Wednesday, November 14
Another reliable - and unrelated- source hears same thing from a real estate developer.

Wednesday, November 28
LSU faculty source - announcement will be made in Baton Rouge on Tuesday, December 4.
Baton Rouge source - LSU Chancellor already has replacement chosen.

A2 Questionnaire: Janene Centurione

(Same 6 Questions, Different Victim – Thanksgiving Edition)

Janene Centurione, Owner, Great Harvest Bread Company

Janene, what’s your favorite dish to cook?
Anything Italian...currently experimenting my way thru Giada and Jamie Oliver cookbooks, and recipes from "Mediterranean Summer." It’s by a chef who crewed an Italian luxury sailboat all thru Italy, Provence and Greece.

It’s Friday night and you’re exhausted – what do you do for dinner?
Tell my husband Dan to stop at Siam Square and pickup carry out...it's Thai, inside the Quality Hotel at the corner of Washtenaw and 23...hot and spicy with a cold beer on the couch.

It’s Saturday night and you’re ready to go out and have a great time – what do you do?
Find Mandy Kay and let her drag us somewhere that she can't believe we haven't been to.

What’s your favorite restaurant (besides Zingerman’s!) to take out-of-town guests?
Paesano's, altho I can't wait til Blue Tractor opens...that's one of our favs Up North and I expect it to be here too...our favs in the Metro Area are Andiamo and J. Alexander's.

What do you love about Ann Arbor that you think is unique among other cities?
The well-traveled and interesting people, in a smallish city...I love to read the local calendar of events, because of all of the amazingly different things people are passionate about. I love that we have a world-class library, that people read, sing, talk, think, and are engaged in more that just the material world. I love the students and the energy that the University brings. And yes, I love Art Fair.

Last question – if you were to write a Blues song about living in Ann Arbor, what would the title be?
The “Standing on the Corner of State and Liberty” Blues

everyday wines for the holiday

I popped in to everyday wines recently to stock up pre-holiday, so I asked owner Mary Campbell what she would recommend for Turkey Day. “This Villa Soldati,” she said right away, “it’s like Thanksgiving in glass.”

“It’s a blend of 40% Croatina and 60% Barbera,” Mary continued. “The Croatina is like a Gamay on steroids, with a full, fruitiness. And the Barbera pulls it back, gives it some restraint and smoothness.” Sold!

For a white, Mary recommended the Bigi Orvieto Classico, which has been a regular on my wine shelf for some time . The Bigi is a nice, crisp white that seems smoother than a Pinot Grigio and has perhaps a touch of sweetness.

Also, if you’re entertaining, I’d recommend the Ironstone Obsession. This is a crazy bottle of wine that I’ve found myself buying repeatedly when friends are coming over. It’s made from the California “Symphony” grape, a cross between Muscat and Grenache Gris. With that heritage, it’s not surprising that this wine is much more sweet than I would normally like. But it’s just so dang drinkable! And people love it, regardless of whether they’re German or Chardonnay or Sauvignon Blanc fans.

Meanwhile, the gals over at Gastro 3 beat me to the punch, posting a recent e-mail from Mary to her customers. She's going before the Ann Arbor City Council on Monday night to make a pitch for receiving a liquor license. A license would allow her to do wine and beer tastings along with her cooking classes and events upstairs at everyday cook, and IMHO makes total sense. Show your support for Mary and creativity/initiative in business by sending an e-mail to your City Council members.

The Game

“My first game was 1951 and the rivalry was good, but not like now,” my neighbor Howard wrote in an email. “The Minnesota game was as intense as OSU, but nothing like when we played Michigan State.”

As you may recall, Howard Zeck is a retired Ann Arbor police officer who has been working the sidelines at U of M football games for over 50 years. He and his wife Dorothy are snowbirds, so like many fans they’ll be watching The Game on TV this Saturday. The internet is ablaze with the speculation and hysterics of much bigger sports brains than mine, so I emailed Howard inquiring about the old (better?) days.

“I met Woody Hayes, and of course was there to see him kick all the yard markers over,” Howard replied when I asked what it was like to be on the sidelines with two gargantua of college football. “About a year after Woody was fired, he and Bo spoke to our Law Enforcement group here in Ann Arbor,” he continued. “Woody told us a story about talking to one of his players. ‘Last week I was crossing the campus and this player ran up to me, hit me on the shoulder, and…(Woody then paused) now you heard what I just said, HE HIT ME!’ Of course everyone in the room came unglued, and Woody just smiled.”

“The teams under Bo and Woody were always disciplined and well behaved. Woody always told the players, ‘YOU will not protest anything. I will do all the protesting around here.’”

“I had tremendous respect for Woody Hayes and the way he treated his players, many very poor,” Howard continued. “There are stories of how he spent most of his salary on the kids and their families.”

I asked Howard (photo at right) what he would tell the team and coaches if he could send them a message. “Go out there and play like Michigan and win one for BO!!”

Amen, Howard. Amen.

The Eleventh Day

I’ve been watching Ken Burns’ “The War” in dribs and drabs over the past several weeks. I really do want to absorb all 15 hours, but imagine I’ll have to rent the DVDs one at a time to climb that mountain.

Yet watching the incredibly moving interviews of vets and their families who held down the home front has caused me to give some thought to how my teenage daughter will view that war. I have to guess that for her, World War II will seem just as remote as Valley Forge and Antietam. “Basra,” “The Green Zone,” and “Gitmo” will resonate for her generation 20 years from now, not the Bataan Death March.

I grew up hearing stories about the Depression from my mom and grandparents, and Dad was a pharmacist’s mate in the Pacific. He didn’t talk much about that, though I do remember him telling us that his hospital ship picked up POWs and how ravaged those poor soldiers and sailors were. And he always loved to recount the time his ship docked in San Francisco and he and his buddies got shore leave. Whenever I’d travel to SF on business, he would ask me if Finocchio's was still there, as if the city had been frozen in time since 1944.

But Dad, Mom, and my grandparents are all gone, and I wonder if I’ve done The Button a disservice by not telling her what few stories I can remember about her grandparents’ youth. Announcing “there’s where Granny and the Greats lived during the War,” every time we drive by a particular house on White Street certainly doesn’t address the scope of what her family went through, only one generation removed.

Trite as you may think the term, “The Greatest Generation” is apt. And you might say that Dad and Mom’s stories would be more relevant to our current era than anything I could tell my daughter about the bell bottoms or Reaganomics of my childhood. Though I can’t wait for the week they tackle Watergate in her Civics class.

One of the reasons this country is wallowing in the quagmire of a senseless war is because the men currently in power stood aside when their brothers were called to serve a generation ago. As service men and women come home from Iraq and Afghanistan, we can at least hope that our children will benefit from the serious lessons those young men and women have learned under fire half a world away.

Monkey Toes and Footie Pajamas

A blustery, early-November evening in Ann Arbor town...

“We’re going to drink Monkey Toes!” my friend Kelly blurted out. Bill the driver cocked his head toward the back of the cab, and he and I both said simultaneously, “did you just say ‘Monkey Toes’?!”

Kelly was visiting from Chatanooga, and we had called Amazing Blue Taxi to transport us to the first stop on our Girls’ Night Out, Café Habana. “You mean Mojitos, right?” I laughed. “Yeah, of course,” Kelly said, “what did you think I said?”

And that’s pretty much the way things go with us. Our outings are legend (at least in our own minds), with antics not limited to Ann Arbor – we’ve cut a swath across a good chunk of the U.S., and ventured as far afield as England, making friends with dozens of cab drivers, waitstaff, and miscellaneous barflies along the way. Our London expedition was most memorable for the fact that we went two straight days without sleep, in a marathon of pub crawling interspersed with the occasional double-decker bus ride.

Joined by our faithful partner in crime Sherry (sadly, BFF Rachel was MIA, volunteering at the A.R.K.), we did in fact start with Mojitos and appetizers at Ann Arbor’s newest entrant to the restaurant scene. The mariquitas (fried plaintain strips) were EXTREMELY garlicy, and the chicken croquetas were odd little ground chicken nuggets, but the dipping oil was yummy. We shared with a gentleman named Mark, who took a seat next to us at the bar entirely unwitting of the vortex of booze and girly conversation he would be sucked into.

Mojitos a blurry memory and two bottles of pinot grigio dead soldiers, we made our way across the street to Arbor Brewing. Settling in, Sherry tugged my sleeve and pointed across the bar. “Is that guy wearing pajamas?” she asked incredulously. “Mandy, you have to go talk to him,” Kelly exclaimed, “that’s a blog post waiting to happen!”

If your average foreign correspondent posted to the world’s armpit is even half as liquored up as I was that night, I can tell you that the fact checkers earn their paychecks. Cause the most intelligible thing written in my little notebook is where Stasek and Sara themselves wrote their email addresses. I think the story was that Stasek lost a bet, and was on Day 6 of a full week of wearing pajamas. Everywhere. Even class at law school. As if having a dish like Sara on his arm weren’t evidence enough, Stasek must be a pretty extraordinary guy to have the cojones to follow through on a wager like that.

Blogging duty served, I had to call it a night. My cell phone rang and it was Rick, owner and driver of my Amazing Blue chariot, waiting outside to carry me home. Mark and I promised to meet for lunch next week (Vinology, natch), and Kelly and Sherry progressed to Old Town to indulge in some good, greasy food in a hopeless attempt to soak up the alcohol. At home, snuggled under my poofy down comforter, I dreamed of monkey toes, rubber duckies, and footie pajamas.

He's Just Not That Into You

Commiserating over Cosmopolitans with my friend Jane at Melange one night last week, I asked, “how are things going with Sushi Guy?”

“Sushi Guy” is the nickname assigned to Jane’s recent Match.com prospect, because they went to Miki on their first outing. “Well, on the first date it took me a while to warm up to him,” Jane responded. “But then, on the second date at Good Night Gracie I decided I really quite liked him, despite our obvious differences.”

“So…” I prompted. “So then after the second date we played phone tag for a few days. And then he sent me an email,” she continued, “he had decided to get back together with an old girlfriend!”

I had warned Jane that Lewis (his real name) was probably not right for her, that she was barking up the wrong tree. Aside from the obvious cultural differences, to my knowledge he has never been the type to settle with one girl. Never married, no (acknowledged) children, he's much too comfortable in his bachelor life. And really nothing in common with Jane, except perhaps a love of raw fish and live music.

But you see, if a guy’s willing to date realistically proportioned/aged women, can spell “articulate,” and says he likes Guster (qualifications that are challenging to fill in a single man in a 50-mile-radius of Ann Arbor), Jane won’t hesitate to get all dolled up and drop some serious cash on a dinner date downtown. Only to find afterwards that he doesn’t call, doesn’t email, nothing. In fact, I suppose she should count herself lucky that Sushi Guy even bothered to let her know he was seeing someone else. Better than bumping into them at Gratzi one Friday night.

If you ask me, Jane’s problem is that she’s overly optimistic. But I suppose that’s her nature.

2-Bit Review: Cafe Habana

One or two visits. A few hundred words. Sometimes that’s all it takes.

If you’re looking for heart disease on a plate (and I say that with love), you’ll find it with the Huevos Habana breakfast entrée (above) at the newly opened Café Habana on Washington. Since they're open early for breakfast, I stopped in one Saturday on my way to the Market and ordered their version of Eggs Benedict with a Cuban twist –pulled pork over arepas (corn fritters), with two eggs and roasted poblano hollandaise. I am not a big Benedict fan, but this dish reminded me of a fantastic Creole version I once enjoyed in the French Quarter of New Orleans. The spice in the pulled pork and the poblano Hollandaise were right up my alley.

A few days later during a lunch outing, my friend ordered the Baja Burrito(above left) stuffed with lots of fresh tasting shrimp and mahi mahi, corn relish, and topped with a zesty green salsa. My Ropa Vieja was essentially shredded latin pot roast in a tomato-based sauce over rice – great comfort food, with plenty of leftovers for the next day. To close the meal, we ordered Coconut Turnovers for dessert. A little dry, even doused with the chocolate sauce. “Do you think they taste like an Almond Joy candy bar?” our waitress asked. Um, yeah, kind of. Actually, more like over-toasted coconut pop tarts. But points for being unique.

And tonight I ate at the bar. The restaurant was almost full, about two thirds of the guests were ladies. “Women like mojitos,” speculated the gentleman sitting next to me at the bar. Encouraged, I decided to try a Lava Mojito – the traditional Cuban drink jazzed up with mango and pomegranate (left). Then I moved on to a Caipirinha. Jim, the bartender, makes it with simple syrup infused with mint – tasty, but not really caipirinha-ish to me.

For dinner, I started with the baked goat cheese. A good app to share, and with the tomato sauce and pepitas on top it had a nice zip. But it was under the broiler too long. Better if the goat cheese still had a little structure, not quite so melted. Then came my entrée, the Churasco Chimichurri.What a great dish! “That’s my favorite,” commented Jim. The hanger steak was medium rare as ordered, and surprisingly tender. Marinated extra long, perhaps? Topped with tart, parsley-heavy chimi and served with rice and sautéed spinach, it was yummy. And at $14, a reasonable price.There’s a lot of overlap between the lunch and dinner menus at Cafe Habana. Down the road the restaurant will need to come up with some daily, unique specials to keep repeat customers intrigued (lest they fall into the food fatigue I always seem to experience at Prickly Pear). But with great breakfasts and dinner entrées averaging $14, and lunches around $9 or less, Café Habana slots into an economical niche in the downtown restaurant scene. And in a very stylish atmosphere, too.

A2 Questionnaire: Tommy York

(Same 6 Questions, Different Victim)

Tommy York, Owner/Partner, Morgan & York


Tommy, what's your favorite dish to cook?
I love to braise / roast fatty meats this time of year. So things like osso buco, ox tail stew and even chilli are hitting the spot. It has been so warm we are still eating chef salads for dinner!

It's Friday night and you're exhausted – what do you do for dinner?
We don't carry out that often but if we need carry out food we'll get sushi from Miki, pizza from Anthony's or burgers from Blimpy. Julie and I usually plan ahead so that we can have something made ahead like soup or a crock pot meal. We prefer to cook if we can. Sometimes cooking aftrer a long week can bring me back to the land of the living.

It's Saturday night and you're ready to go out and have a great time – what do you do?
Hanging out with friends is the most satisfying. We are so busy with the boys that going out for a drink and some appetizers will do the trick.

What's your favorite restaurant to take out-of-town guests?
I have three that I think are great Amadeus, Eve and Logan.

What do you love about Ann Arbor that you think is unique among other cities?
There are many things - Top of the Park, shopping cart races, Ann Arbor Velo Club, The Ark, UMS, the Peony Garden, sledding at Vets and on it goes...In summation I love that often more than half of the Observer is dedicated to what is happening in town!

Last question. If you were to write a Blues song about living in Ann Arbor, what would the title be?
"I Used To Have a Unique Town and Now All I Have Is This Stupid Wal-Mart T-shirt"

Five Fav Lunches

Five lunch entrees that are reliably tasty and economical.

Word Play Challenge (WPC): Guess the celebrity, public, or historic figure using the entrée name in a sentence – answers at the end of the post!

The nice thing about ordering a cheeseburger at Old Town is that if you order it medium rare, it comes to you medium rare. The melted Swiss and sautéed mushrooms add to the gooey, gut-busting pleasure, and the crunchy, steak-cut fries are icing on the cake.
“My dear Lizzy,” cried Mrs. Bennett, “I feel quite certain that Wickham would never have taken Lydia to an establishment such as the Old Town, much less required her to partake of a cheeseburger with grilled mushrooms.”

“When you took the picture of your salad,” my friend said laughing, “you should have SEEN the expression on the face of the lady sitting next to us! You'd have thought you were taking a picture of a pile of s---!” Ah, the hazards of blogging, though why a fellow diner would give a s--- whether I take a photo of my food, I don’t know. Regardless, Café Zola’s salad sampler serves up a perfect little plate of chicken, egg, tuna, and lettuce salads. I don’t even LIKE egg salad normally, but Zola’s is fantastic.
“I'm the decider, and I decide what is best. And what's best is the Salad Sampler. Because there are samples. And it’s salad.”

I’m starting to feel like broken record singing the praises of Vinology. With their sandwich and salad/soup combo, you can choose from any of their lovely sandwiches – I like the chicken salad or the shrimp po boy – and have a salad, or one of the day’s selection of soups. And it comes with a pile of perfectly crisp shoestring fries. At only $8, it’s the best lunch deal on Main Street in a crisp, contemporary atmosphere.
“I have no plans to be a candidate for president again, I don't expect to ever be a candidate for president again. But I will tell you that I plan to have the soup and salad combo at Vinology for lunch today."

I imagine the owners of Makkara generate most of their income providing sushi in little carry-out boxes to groceries like Busch’s. But their storefront on Packard next to Fantasy Attic is an easy stop when you’re on the east side of town. I always order a spicy tuna roll, which the staff serve quickly with a smile. And their drink cooler is the coldest in Ann Arbor – my bottle of Diet Coke is always just short of frozen. Looove that.
“Being in jail was like being in a cage, but that nice sheriff did let me send out for a spicy tuna roll.”

In college I worked in a sandwich shop owned by a Korean family, and became addicted to BiBimBop. Bell's Diner, over on West Stadium, serves up a satisfying bowl of the stuff in an old fashioned diner where you might expect Andy and Barney to walk through the door any minute. And I’ve found it’s a great antidote for what ails ya the day after a night of overindulgence. Beef, egg over easy, and don’t forget the hot sauce.
“The proletarians have nothing to lose but their chains, and everything to gain including BiBimBop. Workingmen of all countries, unite!”

WPC Anwers: 1) Jane Austen 2) George W. Bush 3) Al Gore 4) Paris Hilton 5) Karl Marx