Road Trips

It was another rough night, but this time I just stayed in bed and read until I fell back asleep. I woke up around 5:30 AM and filled in the Blog entry.

I put on a pot of coffee and watched the news. I had a couple of cups and then decided what I really wanted was breakfast. So, I made some scrambled eggs and topped them with hot sauce.

I sort of lazed around until about 10:30, when I finally roused myself to shave and shower. Then I got dressed in my good pants and a nice shirt. I have a road trip in mind.

Between this and that, it was about 11:30 AM when I left the house, hit the expressway and headed for the “D.” It was warm and I was driving in just my shirtsleeves because I don’t want to get all sweaty, walking around with a coat, later on.

I was on my way to the Detroit Institute of Arts. They have an exhibit called “Rembrandt and the Face of Jesus” that I want to see.

Here’s how they describe it on the DIA’s website:
“Rembrandt and the Face of Jesus brings together for the first time many of Dutch master Rembrandt van Rijn's finest paintings, prints and drawings that portray Jesus and events described in the Bible. The exhibition of 64 works includes approximately 52 small, intimate paintings, prints and drawings by Rembrandt and his students that illustrate how Rembrandt broke from traditional 17th-century representations of Jesus.”

By “traditional 17-century representations,” they mean at that time, Jesus was usually portrayed as a northern European, with light hair and blue eyes. And, his divinity was expressed by a halo or rays of light shooting out of his head. And, some of Rembrandt’s early works were like that, too. But, as a successful painter (and he was wildly successful in his early 20’s) he bought a huge house in the Jewish part of Amsterdam, where he not only had his studio but a very profitable art school.

Living amongst Jews, his perception of what Jesus would have and should have looked changed. So, he started painting Jesus as a Jew, with the Jewish style of hair, worn long and tucked behind the ears. He also started showing Jesus’ divinity by subtly painting his face with a glow that, when there were others in the portraits they did not have, and with a faint glow (almost like an aura) around him. See photos.

Anyway, I only got a little lost on the way there in downtown Detroit. However, my recent jury duty experience had taught me how the streets connected so, other than an interesting ride in the New Center Area (I got to see people ice skating and this year’s Christmas tree in Campus Martius) I made it there just before the 1:00 PM showing.

I paid $8.00 to get into the museum and $8.00 more for the exhibit. I got directions and headed upstairs in the elevator. Since the exhibit only opens on each hour, I foolishly thought there would be a guide who explained things. Nay, nay. I forgot technology. Almost everyone had a little radio or tape recorder and a set of ear buds. I have no idea where they got them. But, they did have placards next to each painting with explanations, so I did okay.

It was indeed as fascinating as I’d hoped. I spent almost the whole hour wandering the various galleries in the Special Exhibit hall. There were a lot of people, but not so many that you couldn’t get right up to the paintings.

At one point, one of the many museum staffers walked up to me and asked me if I was missing my party. I smiled at her and asked her just what she had in mind. She laughed and said a woman and her kids reported that their Grandfather had wandered off and he had a cane. Since I had mine (I knew there would be a lot of walking on tile floors) she thought it might be me. I said, "No, its not me."

After I finished the tour, I wandered around the museum itself. Now, if you’ve never been there, here’s how Wiki describes it:

“The Detroit Institute of Arts (DIA) is a renowned art museum in the city of Detroit. In 2003, the DIA ranked as the second largest municipally owned museum in the United States, with an art collection valued at more than one billion dollars. With over 100 galleries, it now covers 658,000 square feet (61,130 m²) The museum building is highly regarded by architects. The original building, designed by Paul Philippe Cret, is flanked by north and south wings with the white marble as the main exterior material for the entire structure. It is part of the city's Cultural Center Historic District and listed in the National Register of Historic Places.”

If I remember correctly, the last time I was there was with Lu and the boys. She was fascinated by the paintings on the high ceiling in either the Great Hall or the Riviera Court, so she laid down in the middle of the marble floor and took pictures. The boys and I stood off to the side and amused ourselves by watching the faces of the people who walked by her.

I spent another hour or so and only got through these galleries: European, Inspired by Italy; Ancient Greek and Roman; European, Medieval and Renaissance; the Great Hall (with it’s fascinating suits of armor) and just part of the American Gallery. Then my legs began to give out.

So, I walked out and retrieved my car from the parking lot behind the museum ($5.00 for all day parking! Compare that to what I paid to be a juror). Then I hit the road and got really, really lost. I ended up in Highland Park instead of Hamtramck! (Well, they both start with “H” right?) So, I had to backtrack and finally found I-75. I did find Hamtramck, but not Holbrook Ave.

Now, Hamtramck is not that big. Back when I was a lad, it was the Polish section of Detroit (like Corktown was the Irish section), but it has a much more varied population now. I suppose many of the kids moved out and on and the old folks died off. I think the last time (and probably the only time) I was there was either just before or just after I married Fran. We went there so I could meet her Grandparents and her Aunt Lorraine.

Anyway, I sort of quartered the area (I passed the Kowalski sausage factory about three times, BTW). This was not easy as many of the narrow original streets have been turned into one-way streets. I finally found Holbrook and then drove up and down it to find the next street, Charest. From there it was easy to find my destination: Yemans Avenue. Please note: the title “Avenue” is a bit misleading. It’s a little one-way street you can barely get through when there are cars parked.

What was worth all this effort? I was watching Guy Fieri’s show “Diners, Drive-ins and Dives” a week or two ago. It was an episode called, “Doing it Old School” (I think) and one of the restaurants featured with the Polish Village Café in Hamtramck.

According to their website: “In 1925, Mr. Pilecki built a 31-room gentleman's hotel with a rathskeller at 2990 Yemans Street.

The hotel was home to their rich customs and trades to the city of Hamtramck.

In the 1940's and 50's Hamtramck's population surged to over 50,000 as more immigrants arrived to man the city's factories. The Bakerstreet car line took people north and south on Joseph Campau, which was then the second busiest shopping district in the nation. Walking through the neighborhood at that time, you could feel the hospitality and smell the fine cooking typical of the European villages.

In 1976, Mr. Pilecki's cellar beer garden became the Polish Village Café. His tradition of welcoming immigrants and their descendents continues to this day.”

I had to check it out.

It was indeed in the basement of a house. I thought I was being clever by going in the afternoon, so it wouldn’t be crowded. Again, nay, nay. It was packed, with people standing at the bar, waiting for a table. Thankfully, there was only me and there was a one person table against the wall. Naturally, as busy as it was, service was a little slow, so it gave me time to people watch.

I don’t think I’ve seen that many Polish people in one place in my life (well, maybe back in the day at weddings when they would play Polkas). Many of them were speaking Polish. Speaking of people watching, I had forgotten how pretty young Polish girls were. The menu was in Polish, with English subtitles. Oh, and they don’t take credit cards – remember that and don’t mess up.

A friendly waiter (I was hoping for one of the friendly, busty waitresses, actually) finally brought me a bread basket (rye bread) and a glass of water and took my order.

Since I didn’t recognize half the dishes (well, I did recognize the SLEDZIE W SMIETANIE (Herring in sour cream) but at 3:30 in the afternoon?) I ordered the POLSKI TALERZ (Polish plate), billed as "A Taste of Poland." It consisted of stuffed cabbage, pierogi, kielbasa, sauerkraut and mashed potato. I picked the dill pickle soup as my starter.

Now, I’ve had dill pickle soup before in a Livonia restaurant, but this was better.

When it came, the food was excellent. The stuffed cabbage was huge (I could have made a meal out of that alone), the kielbasa was great and so juicy every time I cut into it, grease shot out on my shirt and the mashed potatoes and gravy were good too.

The only thing that tasted a bit weird was the sauerkraut. It was done old school, alright. It had cooked so long it looked like caramelized onions. When I make mine, I heat it just through, so it is still white and a little crunchy. This was more like my Mother used to make.

I managed to eat most of it (I couldn’t finish the mashed potatoes and the sauerkraut). I went to the rest room (mostly to check out the open kitchen – while there was one or two younger women, most of the cooks were older grandma-looking ladies). I paid my bill ($7.30) and left a good tip for my waiter.

I got up the stairs (no ADA accommodations, here) and got my car out of the parking lot. Having been over it so many times, it was easy to get back to I-75 and head for home. I got there about 5:30 PM.

I missed the Michigan Ohio State game, but I did see Michigan win it on the bar TV at the Café. First time is 7 or 8 years, I believe. My legs really hurt, so I alternated between reading and watching TV for the rest of the evening.

I did talk with B___ who called to see if I did really go to the DIA, like I had mentioned (back in college, he had started out as an art major and had been to the DIA several times, so he was interested). I told him all about my adventures and he told me he had managed to diagnose his furnace problem, bought a part and got it going again. Sidebar: I wish I could do things like that. I always end up paying somebody to repair things for me.

I washed the bedding while I watched another excellent Redwings game. They are kicking butt!

About 8:00 PM, I was still too full for dinner, but I wanted something. So, I made my Thanksgiving dessert: Maple Cream Berries and Walnut Ice Cream. This was a Rachel Ray recipe, BTW.

I had a half-pint of raspberries and a half-pint of blackberries (my favorite berry) and a pint of strawberries that I cleaned and quartered. Two pints of any mixed berries will do, BTW.

I combined 1/2 cup of maple syrup, a cinnamon stick, a few grates of fresh nutmeg and one cup of heavy cream in a small pot. Note: I do have that stuff on hand, but I don’t see why you couldn’t use a few sprinkles of regular cinnamon and nutmeg if that’s all you have. I brought it to a boil, reduced the heat to low and simmered it for 20 minutes. Then I removed it from the heat and combined some with the berries.

Since you need to eat this warm, I just put a few of the berries in a small bowl and a little of the maple cream on top. Then I topped them with a scoop of ice cream. The recipe called for one pint black walnut or maple walnut ice cream. I couldn’t find either so I went with plain vanilla, topped with chopped black walnuts. See photos.

This tasted so good I made another small bowl and ate that too. I put the rest of the berries and the rest of the maple cream mixture into separate container in the fridge for tomorrow. I bet that maple cream and berry mixture would taste great on pancakes or a waffle, too.

My legs still hurt, so I went to sleep around 9:00 PM, pleased with my day’s adventures.