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Right On Time: Introducing Coeur Happy Hour
The patio is open. The garden is growing. Ferndale is partying, and summer is coming.
It’s officially patio season, and my dad loves the patio at Coeur. Every chance he gets, he’s out there dining al fresco. I totally get it. Our patio is cute as hell. It’s chill, spacious, tucked away, and snug. It’s also behind the restaurant, so not a lot of people know about it. A sort of IYKYK situation. It’s quiet and spacious, with room to spread out. String lights connect the corners of the building to illuminate the space during night time, and garden gnomes poke out from the soil with their pointy little hats.
Finding Comfort At Coeur
On Monday mornings, you can usually find me at Hunter House Hamburgers on Woodward, posted up at the counter with three single-patty sliders and a side of French fries.
Growing up in this area, Hunter House has always been a breakfast staple for me. I had a weird school schedule because I played lacrosse and hockey — early morning practices and late starts to class — so I usually wound up at this white hut burger joint some time between 8 and 10 a.m. (They used to open much earlier.)
Choose your own food adventure
Growing up in Canada, I ate a lot of British food.
My Mom was an Air Force brat who spent a good chunk of her childhood outside of London. She and my grandparents cooked all of the British classics for me as a kid: flaky, buttery steak and ale pies; rich fruitcakes; fish & chips; Welsh rarebit; and plenty of sausage and beans.
British food was so common in my house that I had no idea other kids weren’t growing up with powdered Yorkshire pudding mix in their pantry. Hell, to this day, I still crave all of the British junk foods like Mars Bars, chocolate Smarties, and Scottish digestive cookies.
Fast Food, But Make It Fancy
I remember the first time I ate a McGriddle. (No, I wasn’t stoned.)
It was 2003. I was in high school, and I was curious about damn near everything. So when McDonald’s launched a new breakfast sandwich — eggs, bacon, and American cheese betwixt two maple-flavored pancakes — naturally, I had to see this Frankenstein monster for myself.
To my surprise, it wasn’t bad. The McGriddle, in all of its wondrous, twisted glory — sweet and savory and squishy — was pretty good, actually.