Postponed: check back later.
Dinner includes four naughty courses encased in bread man + wine.
Veggies welcome, sorry, again, gluten-free’ers.
Postponed: check back later.
Dinner includes four naughty courses encased in bread man + wine.
Veggies welcome, sorry, again, gluten-free’ers.
It is with a heavy heart that I write this homage to Su Casa, a beloved grocery and Mexican restaurant in Fennville, Michigan that will close its doors after 27 years this month. Su Casa has supplied Ox-Bow with nearly all of its Thursday Mexican Night fixins, since at least as far back as 2000 when I came to work in the kitchen. Cue the blaring cumbia soundtrack– anyone who has eaten at Ox-Bow has probably gathered that Mexican night is very dear to me– its my favorite cuisine and I just love doing up a huge spread of slow cooked taco meats, diverse salsas, and of course, the famed 60 avocado batch of guacamolé. Su Casa is where those avocados come from, lovingly cared for and selected carefully for us by owner Edgar Suarez. Second to the avocados in importance is their fresh made chips, which have an irresistible crunch and a pleasant greasiness, that I started buying when I took reigns as chef in 2004. The rest of my typical Thursday purchase might look like this: locally produced flour tortillas, Chicago-made corn tortillas, Mexican cheeses also imported from Chicago, canned jalapeños en escabeche and chipotle peppers in adobo, homegrown tomatillos and when not seasonally available at the Holland farmer’s market– fresh cilantro and jalapeños. For special dishes like molé and salsas, Su Casa would reliably provide specialty dry ingredients like a full range of dried chillies, epazoté, tamarind, etc. Sometimes a really special ingredient would pop up like the herb papaló, grown in the garden of one of the Suarez’ friends. And you could always count on Mamá to be scraping spines off of nopal petals, a favorite ingredient of mine for vegetarian taco filling. Oh and a Mexican Coke in the bottle or a Jarritos for the road (and maybe a six pack or two of Bohemia after they got their liquor license).
Su Casa and I go further back than my time at Ox-Bow, in fact. My dad’s best friend Skip Rettker owned a little shack off the Blue Star Highway in Glenn and every once in awhile we’d make the trek up from our place in Grand Beach to hang out at his cabin or check out the shopping in Saugatuck. Skip first brought me to Su Casa as an adolescent sometime in the early 90’s. And I can distinctly remember my order- a torta de milanesa, which has become a staple order of mine at taquerias ever since. I grew up eating Americanized Mexican food, though occasionally I’d get a taste of something closer to what is eaten in Mexico. This torta experience was formative– I had no idea that they even ate bread in Mexico back then. I’d eat there often in my early years at Ox-Bow, enjoying dishes like bistec ranchero, camarones a lá diabla, and carne en chilé. Su Casa expanded their facilities in 2006 and perhaps because my palette had grown more sophisticated by then or it was simply a change of kitchen staff, the food just did not have the same vibrancy after the move. More on that shortly. A few things remained consistent on their menu, however, most notably their excellent salsa verde, which is made creamy by fortification with avocados. I have successfully reverse engineered the stuff and it retains a firm position in my salsa wheelhouse. Their guac was always pretty great and distinctively served in a split dish with smooth and rich refried beans for dipping. I’d still order their enchiladas poblanas in molé, which remained pretty consistent. But my go-to order that always hit the spot was the torta de milanesa.
The original Su Casa was crowded– astonishingly so. Every nook and cranny of the place held a unique discovery whether that be medicinal teas for ailments like gas or migraines, giant reflective dragon stickers, or creepy votive candles with powers to silence your enemies. The ceiling was low and for a tall guy like me that meant being slapped in the face by hanging lucha libre masks or futból jerseys. Shopping there was like foraging in a claustrophobic, psychedelic labyrinth, not unlike markets I’ve since been to in Mexico. The old restaurant was a little more breathable than the grocery, with cozy booths and crazy hand painted fluorescent light ceiling tiles depicting scenes of ancient Aztec times. It saddened me when I learned news of the demise of the original space in exchange for an expanded new building in 2005, which coincidentally aligned with Ox-Bow’s plans to similarly bulldoze our own kitchen to rebuild a big new shiny one.
Enter Edgar Jr. I love this guy and I am sad I had’t see him around in recent years. We are about the same age and he and I became fast friends at the old place. The ever ambitious Edgar Jr. was instrumental in the design of the vision for the new Su Casa. When I returned in the spring of ’06, I was stunned to find a probably about 10,000 square foot Mexican mega-plex towering over the empty lot where little old Su Casa once stood. Edgar was stoked to take me on the tour, the grocery was bigger though still populated by a lot of the same junk from the old spot like racks of norteño CDs and handmade leather keychains. The restaurant was considerably bigger with pretty nice mosaics inlaid in the center of the floor and outdoor breezy patios. They now had a liquor license which was great. But the expansion did not stop there. There was a separate café attached in the front that would serve fancy coffee drinks and gelato and there was a huge honking night club upstairs called Club Casa. This made our expansion back at camp seem modest in comparison. And this is where things got complicated. Edgar Jr. left just after a year or two in to launch his own, highly successful Su Casa brand restaurant in South Haven. Su Casa Fennville chugged along doing what it did best, serving decent Mexican grub on the restaurant side and providing an amazingly stocked grocery for the local Mexican population, curious tourists, and a gangly Mexi-phile weirdo in a Maria Sabina t-shirt buying avocados by the caseload. The café quickly became a storage zone for Mama’s prolific piñata making enterprise. As an aside, her piñatas are truly a work of art, she can do anything with her medium– from Sponge Bobs to freaky anthropomorphic monkey dudes in rainbow shorts to custom made orders like a pigeon she did for me (which if you scroll back enough you can check out on this blog). I was never quite sure what became of Club Casa, though occasionally I’d see an overly Photoshopped flyer for an all ages dance night on their windows. It was clear to me over the years though, that beyond their core business, all the extra bells and whistles were not optimally managed without the vision of Edgar Jr. And the rent on this hulking space was the downfall of Su Casa. Mamá told me they would be closing a few weeks ago with heavy eyes.
I made one final ride to Su Casa last week and received some promising news from Mamá– they are talking about scaling back and renting a storefront in Holland. I sure hope this happens. I will dearly miss my tranquil Thursday afternoon drive out to Fennville after lunch. Breaks like these from the grind of an otherwise always-on-your-feet job make it all worthwhile. Especially when on the other end you get to explore the very definition of a mom and pop joint with an organically odd selection and are warmly greeted by old friends like the Suarez family.
This was a weird one! I was asked to respond to the work of the HALFLIFERS (the collaborative team of Torsten Zenas Burns and Anthony Discenza) whose show recently opened at Gallery 400. I hadn’t been super familiar with their work, but as I delved into their catalog of videos, I was immediately attracted to their parodic, ridiculous zombie flicks. I guess I am kind of a zombie guy. “Night of the Living Dead”, the original, scared the bajeezus out of me as a child and I have more recently succumbed to late night viewings of my-least-favorite-show-that-I-watch, “The Walking Dead”. Zombies are in for sure. I love the idea that there are theories explaining the current cultural obsession with them– reflecting our morbid fantasies of the apocalypse in the late Capitalist moment, mindless consumers endlessly wandering to the brink…
HALFLIFERS do a good job at poking fun of this. I like jokes, but so often my ideas come forth from more earnest places. I have been thinking about survival lately (and for awhile for that matter). My buddy Mikey Henderberg, my right hand man in the Ox-Bow kitchen, has been a down-right preparer for years and more than a few of his ideas have rubbed off on me- preserving food and foraging, for instance. Flung into the chaos of a real apocalypse, would I have the cajones to survive through my own resourcefulness? I do have a taste for bugs… So, I have been teaching a class called “You Art What You Eat” to freshman at the School of the Art Institute and have a gaggle of young Korean women in my class. I won them over when they learned that I make my own kimchi and we opened up a very interesting dialogue about the origins of certain food traditions in the Pacific. Koreans love Spam, as do Hawaiians. How the heck did this oft-maligned processed ham loaf migrate across the Pacific? Americans brought it during the wars as rations. And speaking of rations, do any of you watch Supersizers Go? I just watched the wartime Britain episode and rationing has been on my mind, a sort of mandated survivalism. So, Spam and survival would be on the menu.
This project had to have a tongue-in-cheek aspect– come on, zombies are funny! Eating bugs and Spam is kinda funny too, but I wanted the project to have some visual pizazz. Serendipitously, one of my favorite peer artists, Rimas Simaitis, was on his way into town to open a two person show at Roots & Culture. Rimas’ themes of marooned-ness, Macgyver-esque ingenuity, and island cultures seemed like a good wheelhouse to throw into the mix. Plus the guy has a pretty good sense of humor and bringing on a partner added another layer of collaboration intrinsic to the HALFLIFERS project. So I shot him a text and fortunately he was down. And it turns out he’d been interested in zombies for some time too after a visit to the Caribbean where he learned of the origins of zombie legend, Haitian witchdoctors would keep them as bodyguards of sorts. We swapped out the Caribbean for the Pacific though and went with a Tiki theme. Ever heard of the zombie cocktail?
So, on a chilly apocalypse-like day on Peoria Street, we launched the E-Dogz Zombie Apocalypse Refuge Center serving a menu of foraged items (local dandelion greens) and preserved items (Spam, Korean fermented chile paste, seaweed, and canned silkworm pupae). Rimas made his signature “Painkiller” cocktail which he first tried in the Caribbean. He decked out E-Dogz with Tiki flair and also manned the soundwaves, live DJing a set of shortwave frequencies. The dandelion green Korean-style pancakes were the biggest hit, the Spam Musubi (Hawaiian nigiri sushi) was surprisingly scarfable. I shot myself in the foot, though, with this exercise in entomophagy. This not being abundant bug season I had to outsource– I had ordered fried bamboo caterpillars (which I’ve had and are delicious) from Thailand, but they did not show up in time (and still haven’t!). I knew of a few local purveyors of preserved insect products and after deciding that the public might not be ready for giant water bugs I went with canned Korean silkworm pupae (which have a reputation). All the gochujang in the world couldn’t mask the dirty socks meets dog breath aroma and flavor of these little fuckers. So, sorry y’all, I will convert you to bug eating next time!
The bar
A trailer side Painkiller
Dandelion pajeon in the skillet.
Spam musubi
A combo platter
Yuck
Rimas on the decks
When my friend Elysia Bowery-Reeder, the recently appointed Executive Director of the Museum of Contemporary Art Detroit, asked me if I would like to haul E-Dogz out to the D for the launch of Mike Kelley’s opus, how could I say no? Kelley has been a favorite artist of mine (and really guys, most of us, right?) since I picked up Sonic Youth’s “Dirty” freshman year of high school (my first CD actually). You know the one I’m talking about, the cover had this cute/creepy little orange sock monkey dude with a gatefold of more plush critters. The part that really fucked with my head though– and at the time I hadn’t realized that I was owner of a limited edition copy– was an image embedded in the part of the jewel case that held the CD. It contained an image of a naked man saddled up on a said stuffed animal with what appeared to be shit smothered everywhere. Oh Mike…
So yes, I had to do this. To park my project in proximity to Mike Kelley’s parked project was truly an honor. The weekend was pretty bonkers (on top of the 12 hours of trailer pulling back and forth on I-94). We saw middle aged freaks in preposterously hip attire shakin their thing to Kid Rock’s DJ, a dad rock band that would not give up, and most memorably members of Destroy All Monsters (Jim Shaw!) jamming in the Homestead’s garage with some cosmic drummers. The Homestead itself unlocked an internal dialogue about the role of platform art in actual communities, of which I will spare you a play-by-play analysis. But how crazy that Mike Kelley, whose largely anti-social body of work, created a masterpiece of social practice?
Tom and I served up Chi-dogs and Coneys side by side. Apparently Mike loved a good Coney. I do too. The event was called a Throwdown/Showdown, but I truly love both styles of dog, my two favorites. Like the relationship of house and techno, as a Chicagoan I feel a kinship to Detroit. I may not understand it completely, but something feels right whenever I’m there. Big thanks to Elysia, Jon, Leto, and all the MOCAD staff for inviting me/ accommodating me. I truly hope that they’ll have me back!
Some pics:
Eric May & Rimas Simaitis present:
E-Dogz: Zombie Apocalyptic Refuge Center
May 13th, 5pm- 7pm
at Gallery 400
in response to Halflifers
When the zombie apocalypse goes down, we’ll all have to think on their toes– watching our backs as we hit the roads– escaping the ravenous army of undead relentlessly pursuing our cranial tissues. The living will have to eat too and the mobile kitchen of E-Dogz will be a beacon of nourishment in these end days. Eric “E-Dog” May has teamed up with Rimas Simaitis to equip the food trailer to travel land and sea, feeding the people in these dyer times. The zombie plague actually began generations ago, conjured through black magic by Voodoo priests on island nations during the glory days of the high seas. To honor the zombie resistance of yore, E-Dogz: Zombie Apocalypse Refuge Center will host a tiki party to ward off zombies and serve up doomsday cuisine and circuses. This event may feature, but will not be limited to: Spam nigiri, entomophagy (look it up), flaming cocktails, and/or coconut short wave radios.
Piranha Club #8 was a smashing success! It was a real pleasure to tap into the resonating, collective love for Leo’s Lunchroom. We had old regulars come out and folks that weren’t around back when, but were excited to tap into the legend. This was the first time we’d served restaurant style and it proved to be a fulfilling exercise– a good way to accommodate wider audiences. Be on the lookout for a return to this format.
It was a huge honor to be featured by my favorite Chicago food writer, Mike Sula in the Food Chain over at the Chicago Reader. His words (and really nice photos) can serve as a snapshot of the event better than my own, so please check out the piece HERE.
The menu:
A few of my own pics from the day:
April 27th, 11am- 9pm
Ericʼs On-The-Cheap Eats Guide to Chicago
Photo c/o Sean Starowitz
Many folks don’t know that I keep this regularly updated guide to cheap eats in the Chi. I’ve been asked for it a bunch lately, so here it is to share. Check back every few months for an updated version. UPDATED 11/13/14
Download HERE