Twelve Things I’ve Learned So Far (About Grosse Pointe)

I’ve been living in Grosse Pointe for a little over two weeks now. Here are twelve things I’ve learned so far…

1.  The Starbucks in the Village makes a better dry cappuccino than any San Francisco branch. (milk foams better here, too. humidity levels?)

2.  Every second car is an SUV or truck. Every 20th car is a cop car. Every 50th car is foreign.

3.  An unexpected snowstorm in April is magical, revitalizing and cathartic.

snow in april

4.  Detroit-style pizza is going to be the death of me. (If I can’t fit into my swimsuit this summer, I blame you, Buddy’s!)

5.  I can make a perfect grilled cheese on an electric stove. Sushi rice, not so much. Pork cutlets, a struggle. Stove = 2, Me = 1.

stove.grilledcheese6.  Nope, that’s not a cute cottage, that’s a garage.

garage7.  Fire hydrants are red.

hydrant

8.  Squirrels are creepy.

9.  Japanese beetles are not ladybugs (and they are all over the apartment. and also creepy).

10.  A quarter will get you anywhere from 20 minutes, to and hour and 15 minutes, at a meter (and look at them!).

meters11. Detroit is beautiful.

detroit212.  An after-dinner family walk makes everything better.

walk

Quote: 2

These are the same sort of women as those I encountered 20 years ago…who told me that they NEVER leave Grosse Pointe unless they are forced to. When they travel to Paris or Hawaii or Turks & Caicos for their holidays, they call a limo service and ‘close their eyes when the car travels through Detroit’ to the airport.”

– From the Comments section of Grosse Pointe Today

Eliza’s Pot Stickers

Pot Stickers and MenuIf you’ve never had pot stickers from Eliza’s, I’m feeling very sorry for you right now. I grabbed some of these in the middle of a frantic errand-running morning and devoured them in the car. And maybe I brought a container of rice vinegar from home so I could add the sauce packets to it because I am that obsessed about how a dipping sauce should taste like. They are perfectly flavored with ginger, pork, scallions, garlic (could it be that simple or are there secret ingredients?) and are juicy on the inside without being soggy on the outside.

My love of pot stickers started when I was a kid. Growing up in Hawaii, I had access to a variety of dumplings: Korean mondu, Japanese gyoza, Chinese won ton, pot stickers. I loved them all. I’m one of those people who gets food cravings, and pot stickers is at the top of the list (along with steak, which is totally random). When I was pregnant with Lucy, all I wanted were pot stickers and hot and sour soup from Eliza’s. If dumplings are on the menu, they will be in my belly.

Restaurant 18th Street

Eliza’s old location next to Chez Maman. Photo credit: airbnb.com

I’ve been going to Eliza’s since the late 90s, back in my SF Weekly days, as I now call them (as many of us do). They used to have a location on 18th Street on Potrero Hill, sharing a wall with Chez Maman.  Whether there were just two or a whole crew, we always ordered the pot stickers, aka “pillows of love.” While we were waiting for our orders, we would all mix our own dipping sauces using our preferred combination of the three condiments on the table (soy sauce, vinegar, chili paste). They didn’t give you little bowls for the dipping sauce, so the only thing we had for our sauces were flat appetizer plates. What this meant was that every time someone lost part of their pot sticker (which happened often, especially given the slippery plastic chopsticks), it would splash onto their plate, splattering the culprit and sometimes the whole table.

My love for these dumplings run deep. How am I going to satisfy my pot sticker, my Eliza’s pot sticker craving in the middle of the Midwest?! Does Detroit even have a Chinatown?

Abandoned building

Image credit: detroit.curbed.com

Yup. Here it is. According to Curbed Detroit, vacant for 14 years, Chinatown can be yours for just $500k. Although someone wrote in the comments section, “I didn’t know Detroit had a [Chinatown]. Where did all the Chinese people go?!? Troy?!?” Great.

I’m not sure Operation: Find the Best Pot Sticker in Detroit is even going to get off the ground. I could try to make my own version, sure, but it won’t be the same. *Sigh* Eliza’s, you will be missed.

Borders

detroit border

I came across this photo (yes, I see the spelling error) while doing research on Detroit vs. Grosse Pointe. It illustrates the close proximity of the Pointes to Detroit, and it’s also a good example of the abandonment and decay that has been going on in the city for decades. There are walls (actual physical barriers in the form of guard rails, fences, brick walls) separating parts of Grosse Pointe from Detroit. A horrible realization at first, but… I get it. I mean, we’re moving to Grosse Pointe and not Detroit for a reason.

So what does the future hold for this broken city? It’s a question I plan to examine once I get there. I feel like I know San Francisco in such an intimate way; it’s going to be daunting being a stranger again . But as is true with almost every unknown, there’s an element of excitement, too. Looking forward to exploring and sharing my discoveries and perspectives.

Google Maps image via http://www.63alfred.com/thewalls.htm

Welcome to the Blog: the What and Why

the Golden Gate A quick Google search reveals that Grosse Pointe is a 10.4 square mile “coastal area in Metro Detroit…that comprises five adjacent individual cities.” Its dwellers are “urban sophisticates” who benefit from a “small-town atmosphere” and “strong sense of community.”

Scroll further down and you’ll find this:  “GP, as it is called by some, is a hotbed for money, teenage marijuana smoking and a prodigious amount of alcohol, thanks to expensive fake IDs.”  And “rich white people” and so forth. Did I mention Detroit? I started this blog as a way to process our family’s move from San Francisco to Grosse Pointe, my husband’s hometown.

When we first tossed the idea around, I was elated. Get me the bleep out of this child-hating, downstairs-neighbor-yelling, summer-is-winter-but-winter-is-also-winter, no-parking-spots-ever city. Enter the panic attacks. I’d be on a run in the Presidio looking down at the stormy grey Pacific Ocean…and in front of me the ever majestic Golden Gate Bridge. Then BOOM. Weakness, lightheadedness, shortness of breath, nausea, tears, etcetera. The truth is that I looooove this place. I freaking love it. I love its insane beauty, its crazy people (hippie, yuppie, techie, LGBTQ, homeless, I’ll take them all), its quaint and quirky neighborhoods, its progressiveness, its intensity, its demand for equality and betterment…there’s no place like it.

Map of Detroit

Note: Lake Huron is mislabeled. It is Lake St. Clair.

Still, I sanction the move. I’m ready for a change. For the comforts of suburbia. A suburbia that shares a border with one of the most turmoil-ridden cities in the country. Let’s do this thing.