Mathew S.
Yelp
I'm not from Detroit. I lived there as a kid and my dad and I take a once a year trip for a Wings game. On our way out of town, we pulled up to this delightful spot and had a hearty lunch before sitting in DTW for a bit.
One, I'm glad I gave up the sauce. I hit my lifetime quota a few years ago, and if I hadn't I'd probably be a regular (read: attempted to have taken up residence above or below the bar, lost any semblance of employability, and would have attempted negotiate room and board with the owners by offering barbacking and janitorial service). It would have been bad.
Why? Because this is a beautifully appointed, small, warm, unpretentious bar. It feels every bit of having 120 years' worth of history to it. (TANGENT WARNING: And it's located next to, I think, a place where one can watch women, ostensibly, critique scant pieces of attire by discarding them one by one to loud music. Performance art, I've heard, featuring feminine superiority through the judicious exercise of selective wealth distribution from the lesser base-driven male to superior calculating female sex. END DIATRIBE/RIFF)
As for the food: I had a the German Sausage Dinner with knockwurst, weissewurst, and brat. All standard, all good, nothing life changing. The kraut was standard, pungent. The potato pancakes well well fried, crispy, light.
The guy running the bar was affable though the place was dead (not surprising at 11:45 on a Monday after the Lions had vanquished the Bucs; apparently Detroiters' hair of the dog approach involves going to work rather than calling in notification of absence- the Midwestern work ethic is alive and well!).
All in all, for the food, very good, not great. If I worked Downtown Detroit and wanted to walk to lunch, this would be in regular rotation.