Like many of you must, I keep a short list of favorite restaurants. They’ve earned their way onto it for a few reasons: the time and place remembrances they return me to, my affections for the people I broke bread and made merry with there, and, of course, that occasionally magic spell of vibe and vittles that makes one A-list worthy, all things considered.
Would it surprise you to know that my all-time top five are about as far from fancy as can be? There’s The Shack (La Jolla, California): Best hand-battered chicken tenders anywhere, hands-down. And Horseman’s Haven (I-25 Cerrillos Road exit, south of Santa Fe): Have the green chile burger in a booth held together by duct tape. And consider Phnom Penh (Chinatown, Vancouver, Canada). Take a walk on the wild side and pick your own black toad from the tank. Not to be outdone, China Chili in Phoenix: No-frills, dim sum-style dining hall. Experience the high art of lo mein.
Lastly, and as of just recently, I added Cutter’s in the Eastern Market district right here at home in Detroit. Sorry, Los Olas (Encinitas, California), you’re giving up your top five spot. Still, your jalapeño-pineapple margaritas will always be world-class to me.
I came to Cutter’s on a recommendation during a tour of nearby Whiskey Factory, Detroit City Distillery’s production facility. Just beyond a Saturday Eastern Market crowd’s bustle, parking was free and easy to find right outside. Inside, Cutter’s long bar-centric, squeaky-clean confines outshine its grittier street corner location. Glowingly-lit, caramel-colored, ceramic brickwork behind the bar beautifully backed up warm welcomes I received from smiling staff on both visits. Watching them whistle while they worked — swaying and singing, actually, to the plug-in playlist on Cutter’s digital jukebox — moved me to pay for a few songs myself. While I never got to hear a single selection of mine, somebody with a serious love for Anita Baker kept us all serenaded just fine.
The food started making music with me from jump street. Crisp, cornmeal-crusted chicken wings (six whole, $11), were steamy-licious inside and seasoned with spices I’d buy if they sold them. I gnawed away at every bit of them, right down to the crunchy wing tips. I suggest you do the same. Take it from a guy who eats fried shrimp, tails and all. My first bite attempt at piping hot fried dill pickles ($8) failed when the puckery wedge slipped from its coating. I slid the precious, frittered spear back in like a sword into its sheath and took another stab. Shazam! Spectacular. Fresh-fried food, when well-executed, is worthy of Beard Award consideration, in this writer’s opinion. When served with one’s own, personal squeeze bottle of ranch or bleu cheese and hot sauce, it’s a winner. Just to confirm Cutter’s deserving nominee status, I ordered Catfish Bites ($11) for good measure, which netted me a nice basket of fried fillet twizzles that I boxed up to-go but finished in the car on the way home.
Cutter’s “Famous” Stuffed Burgers should be ($14-16, a la carte). I thought I might regret the potential saltiness of the blue cheese and olive model I chose, but the kitchen quelled that concern by deftly incorporating the right amount of those two saltier foodstuffs into my thick and juicy, hand-formed fatty of a burger patty. Not one from the pile of napkins my bartender delivered with it went unused. My side of hand-cut fries ($3.50) tasted homemade as could be. The trick with these is getting them crispy. Typically, it takes cooking them twice; a first blanch in the fryer oil, followed by some time to chill before a second and final fry. I’m not sure Cutter’s goes to all that trouble but, honestly, that’s a lot to expect. I was perfectly satisfied with a bit less crunch for the better taste of from-scratch French-fried potatoes.
What really sealed the deal where my respect for Cutter’s kitchen is concerned was the unquestionable quality of the seared beef tenderloin component of my Steak Bites Salad ($14). I was skeptical when Chimika — my second-visit bartender and Cutter’s general manager — took a cook temperature from me when I ordered it. Sure enough, every perfectly tender, beefy bite had been rendered medium-rare as requested. And there must have been twenty, kebab-sized cuts of tasty fillet in my bowl. However you managed that for fourteen bucks, Chimika and crew; my most sincere thanks and compliments. I’ve never had better beef, let alone a better steak salad, and that seemed to substantiate what the guy who told me to go there (thanks, Garrett) offered about the lore behind Cutter’s along with his recommendation. Apparently, the place has a history (just celebrated its 19th anniversary) of loyal patronage from butchers and vendors working in and around Eastern Market. That could explain the name, though my now obligatory perusal of the business’ “our story” web page didn’t corroborate as much. I didn’t delve any deeper. I’d tasted enough to know why this is the place to go.
From simple but serious-effort food to cocktails as strong as those poured at uninhibited house parties, Cutter’s delivers the goods. On that note, the house music you can’t help but vibe along with seems to keep everyone equally afloat. The staff are happy. There’s munching and singing, drinking and dancing. I can’t wait to come back for more bites of this or that, some more tequila, tequila, and soda, maybe a third helping of Anita Baker, and my fill of Janet Jackson, Natalie Cole, and whoever else I hear when I’m there.
Without exaggeration, I’ve probably eaten at a hundred restaurants since returning to Michigan. But it’s only the best ones that make the most lasting impressions, leaving us feeling good, having eaten well, and having thoroughly enjoyed our experience there.
And for me, you’ve become one of those places, Cutter’s. I feel you.
Location Details
Subscribe to Metro Times newsletters.
Follow us: Google News | NewsBreak | Reddit | Instagram | Facebook | Twitter
