Author: Ari

A bold balance of flavors in every bite
This super tasty salad brings a good bit of culinary beauty to dinner at home, and it’s remarkably easy to make. The citrusy tang of grapefruit, the creamy richness of avocado, and the salty, buttery depth of Dry Jack cheese create a beautifully balanced dish. A sprinkle of sea salt, the aromatic spice of the wild pepper, a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil, and a splash of vinegar tie it all together. For a final flourish, toss in a handful of toasted red walnuts or Italian hazelnuts.
To prepare the salad, start with the best grapefruit you can find. Peel it and separate it into segments. If the segments are large, cut them into smaller chunks. Next, dice the avocado into pieces roughly the same size as the grapefruit. For the cheese, take some of that delicious Dry Jack I wrote about last week. Trim off the cocoa-rubbed rind, and instead of cutting the cheese into uniform cubes, break it into irregular pieces using a knife—just as you would with Parmigiano Reggiano. The uneven texture, I’m convinced, makes each bite more interesting!
Dress it with a few drops of vinegar—I’d opt for the orange and muscatel vinegar we have at the Deli, or, alternatively, the Gardeny Cava Vinegar. Both are from Catalunya and are terrific. Add some extra virgin olive oil—we use the Moulins Mahjoub organic oil from Tunisia at our house (just bought another three-liter tin at the Deli the other day). Sprinkle on a small bit of sea salt. The wild Voatsiperifery pepper from Madagascar, with its prominent fruity spiciness, is a superb accent to all of it. Add the nuts at the end to seal the culinary deal.
The contrast and diversity of flavors and textures are terrific: spice, smooth, creamy, crunchy, all in one wonderful, super-tasty, winter salad. In essence, it’s an artistic act that can brighten a cold winter day in a matter of minutes!
Photo credit: Valerie de Limoges via Pexels
Author: Ari

Pepper-spiced deep-fried maitake make for some marvelous eating!
One of my favorite new foods in the ZCoB over the last few years, these chicken-fried mushrooms are more than worth making a trip across town to try!
To be clear, there’s no actual chicken involved here. The “chicken-fried” is a reference to the batter in which they’re dredged, and the way they’re deep fried! They are, to my taste, absolutely delicious! They start with buttery, meaty, moist maitake mushrooms grown in Michigan. The maitake—also known as hen-of-the-woods—are spiced with that totally terrific farm-to-table Tellicherry pepper from Kerala on the west coast of India. Like the Roadhouse’s more famous fried chicken, the heat from the pepper is prominently present upfront but not overpowering.
Maitake are used widely in Chinese medicine, loaded with nutrients, and contribute to immune system health. So there are, it seems, possible health benefits to eating them, though for me, it’s all about how tasty they are. In the wild, maitake can grow to be huge, but the folks at Stony Creek manage the growth so the mushrooms are harvested at a more manageable size. Because they’re cultivating the maitake so effectively, Stony Creek is making it possible for us to get a year-round supply of these great mushrooms, which opens up the door to doing delicious dishes like this one for many months to come. Mycologist Paul Stamets says,
Maitake mushrooms are known in Japan as “the dancing mushroom.” According to a Japanese legend, a group of Buddhist nuns and woodcutters met on a mountain trail, where they discovered a fruiting of maitake mushrooms emerging from the forest floor. Rejoicing at their discovery of this delicious mushroom, they danced to celebrate.
When you taste these chicken-fried mushrooms—either on a Chicken-Fried Mushroom Sandwich or as an entrée of their own—I forecast that you will find yourself dancing as well! I know they sure get me going. The other evening a guest stopped me to say, almost glowing as she spoke, how darned good they are! I agree!
Author: Ari

Paying homage to one of Ann Arbor’s great historical leaders
On Monday, April 7, 1975, as Irina Ratushinskaya approached the end of her third year as a university student in Kyiv, Albert Wheeler was elected Mayor of Ann Arbor. Wheeler’s election was historic—he was the city’s first, and so far only, Black mayor.
Many non-Black residents of the city may not realize that, in the years leading up to his election, Ann Arbor remained segregated through a series of largely unspoken social norms. As the Ann Arbor News later wrote,
Far away from the segregated lunch counters and water fountains of the Deep South, Ann Arbor was wrestling with its own brand of racism in the 1940s and 1950s. Blacks moving to town were only shown houses in the North Fourth Avenue area, a grimy neighborhood heavy with the odor of slaughterhouses and coal-fired plants. Jobs for African Americans at the University of Michigan usually got no better than cleaning floors or operating elevators.
Mayor Wheeler was born in the city of St. Louis in 1915. He studied biology at Lincoln University, an HBCU (Historically Black Colleges and Universities) in Pennsylvania. He came to Ann Arbor in the late 1930s to study at the School of Public Health at the time that the Great Depression was winding down and the geo-political tension in Europe that was about to turn into WWII was increasing. In 1945, when Wheeler and his wife Emma attempted to purchase a house, the banker continually pushed them to look at buying only in Black neighborhoods. Nevertheless, the couple persevered. In 1952, Dr. Wheeler became the first Black professor at the University to be tenured. The Wheelers would go on to be instrumental in the founding of the Ann Arbor chapter of the NAACP. He first ran for mayor, unsuccessfully, in 1970, but ran again in 1975 and won.
As mayor, Wheeler worked to change beliefs about what a city government was supposed to do—working in the opposite of what we read about right now in national news, he advocated significantly increased services for its citizens. Wheeler’s path was not an easy one. Even in our fairly “liberal” city, he faced verbal and physical threats. He pushed forward anyway, working to help disadvantaged members of the community, create effective public housing, and more. He has been credited with instilling the idea that city government should be involved in human services, helping disadvantaged citizens, and that’s something the city continues to do. The Ann Arbor News noted that “a pattern of scattered public housing on small sites throughout Ann Arbor is another Wheeler legacy,” and that he “worked to avoid the large, isolated housing projects that other cities built with public funds.”
As Wheeler explained his deep dedication to working for Civil Rights in the city, “I thought I was working for what I was entitled to as a human being.” His daughter Mary McDade, an appellate court judge in my home state of Illinois, talks about how her father led with positive beliefs: “He recognized that as women and as Black people, it was going to be an uphill struggle to do anything in this life.” And yet, McDade says, “He was constantly reminding us that if you used your brains, if you applied yourself, there was nothing that you couldn’t do.”
In 1987, five years after we opened the Deli, the name of what had long been called Summit Park, a few blocks to the north of us, was changed to Wheeler Park. The plaque at the park says it well: “The city of Ann Arbor is a better place to live because of the Wheelers.” Albert Wheeler passed away at the age of 78 in 1994.
In order to honor Albert Wheeler’s good work, and mark the 50th anniversary of his accession to become mayor of Ann Arbor, the Coffee Company has created what we call “The Wheeler Latte.” It’s a super tasty coming together of the Coffee Company’s Espresso Blend #1, a housemade Demerara brown sugar syrup, and steamed milk that comes in from Calder Dairy in Carleton, Michigan.
As we see it, the Wheeler Latte is a tribute to Al Wheeler’s wonderful work here in the 20th century, and also a recognition of what we can all do to build on his caring community contributions. Order one up this week and make a toast to the mayor’s memory as a salute to the social improvements that he worked so hard to make happen, and that all of us remain responsible for today in the winter of 2025!
To sweeten the deal, and in support of Albert Wheeler’s life work, the Coffee Company is donating a dollar from every Wheeler Latte to the local chapter of the NAACP.
Author: Ari

A light touch of citrus to sweeten a winter day
This stuff is super! Light, refreshing, bright, delicate, and delicious. In the dark dog days of winter, we can all use a bit of brightness—this super tasty sorbet serves up a little bit of metaphorical culinary sunshine!
If you aren’t familiar with the satsuma, it’s a variety of Chinese mandarin that came to the U.S. via Japan. Its original Chinese name means “honey citrus of Wenzhou,” a fitting description of its gently sweet flavor. “Satsuma” is a more modern name, taken from a former province of Japan (now Kagoshima Prefecture) on Kyushu Island. The region holds significance in what I wrote about 20th-century art critic and philosopher Soetsu Yanagi’s The Beauty of Everyday Things and his passion for mingei—the beauty of the many small, handcrafted items commonly found in Japanese kitchens and workshops of the time. (Kagoshima: Stories in Craft from South Japan, published a couple of years ago, explores the story of mingei in the Satsuma region.)
Satsumas today are well established in the United States. Satsumas came originally to a Jesuit plantation up the river from New Orleans early in the 19th century, and from there spread across the South and out to California. The towns of Satsuma in Alabama, Florida, Texas, and Louisiana were all named after the fruit. By 1920, Jackson County in the Florida Panhandle started to call itself the “Satsuma Capital of the World.”
You can serve the satsuma sorbet for a dessert or a light afternoon pick-me-up. Better still, take advantage of the slightly warmer weather that means spring really is coming, swing by the Cream Top Shop at the Creamery, and get a small cup to share with a friend. Pair it with vanilla gelato to make a dreamy Dreamsicle. You can play around with it at home, too—its citrusy, not-too-sweet brightness makes it a nice touch to serve a small bit on the side with some fresh oysters! Or top small scoops with a garnish of chopped fresh tarragon—it’s an interesting combo and a great palate cleanser between courses. It’s great, too, with a twist of really good black pepper on top, like maybe the Elephant Valley pepper we have from the folks at Épices de Cru in Quebec!
Author: Ari
When dairy deliciousness and doing the right thing come together
While the country seems suffused in controversy on any number of social issues, here’s a cause that could bring anyone who loves great food into the fold: the campaign to Save The Emmentaler® is calling for our help!
Gourmino’s Save The Emmentaler initiative is committed to supporting “small-scale cheesemakers and their centuries-old craft, promoting the genuine, natural qualities of Emmentaler AOP as an authentic product that goes beyond tradition to ensure its continued excellence.” I’m on board!! If you’d like to enlist as well, the action step is easy—swing by the Deli and buy a bit of this terrific cheese! (If you’re out of town, just email [email protected] and we can ship you some!) Don’t delay! Supplies of this handmade artisan offering are, not surprisingly, sort of limited!
Emmentaler AOP has long been revered as the “king of Swiss cheeses”; it comes in a massive, 30-inch diameter, 200-pound wheel, and features distinctive holes. Its iconic shape is so well-known that children often draw it when depicting cheese. Tracing its origins to the 13th century, Emmentaler AOP is still crafted by this small number of tradition-minded cheesemakers using the same centuries-old methods. Old-school Emmentaler like this is made only in the Emme Valley, in the central part of Switzerland, about two-thirds of the way from Zurich to Bern. It dates back to the same era as the founding of the Swiss democratic system, in the late 13th century and has been exported since the 16th century. Minimum standards have been legally in place since the formation of the Swiss Cheese Union in 1901, the year before the Deli’s building was built. The far stricter Appellation d’Origin standards were put in place a century later, and these are the standards that the Emmentaler AOP we’re working so hard to save has exceeded. You really can taste the difference. It is, in truth, a truly remarkable cheese. The mission of the Save the Emmentaler movement is both simple and powerful: “Preserve Emmentaler AOP’s integrity through sustainable, small-scale cheesemaking and traditional ripening methods.” Here are six reasons that it really resonates deeply for me.
- It tastes terrific—there are hundreds of “Swiss cheeses” in the world, but they are not the same as this one, the original. It is to the flavor of supermarket “Swiss” what a stuffed whale would be to the sort that swims in the ocean and that most everyone reading this will also want to help save. It is an ideal fit for our longstanding definition of quality at Zingerman’s: full-flavored and traditionally made.
- When a community loses its cheese, it loses part of its spirit and connection to place. As Sinead O’Connor sang in “I Want to Talk About Ireland,” “We’ve lost contact with our history … And this is what’s wrong with us.” The work behind Save the Emmentaler was established to keep that from happening. Rooted, connected community is the core of caring; healthy countries are made up of caring communities.
- Switzerland is one of the oldest democracies in the world, and craft-based, cheesemaking spread throughout the country is one of its anchors, economically, environmentally, agriculturally, and culturally.
- The more we can demonstrate that there IS a viable market for traditional foods like this traditional Emmentaler AOP, the more people are likely to take on the work of making them.
- Full-flavored foods like this create joy and beauty in the world. And we could certainly use more of both!
- As I discussed in the pamphlet “A Revolution of Dignity in the Twenty-First Century Workplace,” this system is built on the foundation of dignity at every level. The farmers, the cows, the land, the community, the cheese, and the customers—all are treated with respect and care in this wonderfully regenerative process.
What makes this cheese so special? It starts with the cows. They graze on a diverse diet of grasses and herbs in open meadows, which gives the milk—and the cheese—a unique and rich flavor. The herds are small, usually just 12 to 20 cows, allowing farmers to maintain a close connection with each animal. Healthier, well-cared-for cows naturally produce higher-quality milk. The milk itself is raw and delivered to the dairy twice a day. It still arrives in old-school milk cans—unlike industrial pumping (which is faster but can damage the delicate fat globules in the milk), cans can help preserve quality. The milk is made into cheese within 12 hours of milking, ensuring it’s as fresh as possible when the process begins.
Gourmino itself was founded nearly a quarter century ago by a quintet of quality-conscious farmers in the interest of helping sustain traditional Swiss cheeses into the 21st century. Today the group is up to 12 producers, and, I will say with confidence that every single cheese we’ve ever gotten from Gourmino has been great!
The Emmentaler AOP Reserve we have on hand right now was made by the Schöpfer family at the Mountain Dairy of Kleinstein. It’s been aged for an impressive two years. The affinage process begins in Gourmino’s Langnau Emmental cellars, where the wheels are hand-washed weekly. Later, the best wheels are moved to the facility in Reichenbach Mountain Galleries for what they refer to as “Affinage in the Mountain,” since the cellar is literally carved into the mountain.
With 24 months of maturing, it should be no surprise that the flavor of the Emmentaler AOP Reserve is meaty, concentrated, complex, and compelling. There’s a small touch of sweetness, a good bit of lovely bitterness. Eat it at room temperature to access its full flavor. Great with some of the heirloom apples we can still get around here this time of year! Totally terrific on slices of Bakehouse’s Dinkelbrot, which have been spread generously with Vermont Creamery Cultured Butter.
For anyone who loves full-flavored traditional cheese, the Emmentaler AOP Reserve is a really great choice! And, the more we eat it, the more demand goes up, and the more effective the campaign to Save the Emmentaler is going to be!
Author: Ari
A Southern Italian Twist on a Korean Classic
Since we opened the Deli in 1982, we have focused on making full-flavored, traditional food. In the context of Sōetsu Yanagi’s writing, they are foods that are all about the beauty of everyday things. Not stuff to serve for fancy, once-a-year meals, but rather the kind of food one wants to eat every day, as wonderful on a random Wednesday as it might be at an evening celebration of your 18th anniversary.
Our work at Miss Kim is no exception. Thanks to managing partner Ji Hye Kim’s in-depth research work, over the years we’ve been learning more and more about a bunch of traditional, but little-known in the U.S., Korean recipes. Over the years, Ji Hye’s cooking has deservedly gotten more and more attention. In 2021, she was named one of Food & Wine’s best new chefs in America and she’s been nominated for a James Beard Award multiple times. Sōetsu Yanagi, in fact, spent a good bit of time in Korea—starting in 1916, he did extensive explorations into traditional Korean folk arts, advocating often for Korean culture in the imposition of forced Japanese colonization.
Tteokbokki has been one of the best sellers on the Miss Kim menu since the day we opened back in 2016. At the time it was totally unfamiliar to nearly every non-Korean in town. What was once barely known by folks who don’t have roots in Korea or Korean cooking and culture, has become one of the most talked about dishes in the ZCoB. Of the different variations on the menu, Ji Hye shares,
The Street Style Tteokbokki with the sauteed rice cakes was the first one, of course. Then I added the Royale Style Tteokbokki with seasonal vegetables, local mushrooms, and soy sauce. We’ve also had the Stew Tteokbokki as a special sometimes, more brothy sauce and softer tteokbokki.
A few months ago, Ji Hye added a new, not yet traditional tteokbokki to the menu. It has taken off in fine style, so much so that, say in 2082, when the ZCoB is celebrating its 100th anniversary I can imagine this now innovative dish having become a long-standing, simple, and beautiful classic. Ji Hye explains,
Cacio e Pepe Tteokbokki combined my training in Rome and reflected the evolving nature of food and this dish in particular. I’ve seen young chefs in Korea take tteok, the very traditional ingredient of rice cakes, and use them like pasta. I found it intriguing and inspiring to see tradition evolve, but I wasn’t really looking to put a pasta-like dish on Miss Kim’s menu. This dish was more of an accident—I was just making a snack for myself. I crisped up the rice cakes, tossed in miso butter and a healthy pinch of good black pepper from Épices de Cru, and topped with grated parm. I love traditional cacio e pepe with Parmigiano Reggiano and Pecorino Romano. I thought the salty funkiness of miso was a pretty good substitute for pecorino. I just added a bit of pickled red onions to brighten up the dish a bit. As I was enjoying my snack, our staff asked for a taste. Then a whole plate. Then another plate the next day, followed by a plea to put it on the menu, so here we are!
Come to Miss Kim and get a plateful, hot from the skillet!


