An Ode to the Genius of Immigrant Food
LatestDETROIT—Running parallel to the endless stories about the “revitalization” (read: gentrification and resegregation) of Detroit are stories about its burgeoning restaurant scene, itself a marker of the startling development and influx of corporate cash that have reshaped the city in recent years.
Just drive through downtown and its surrounding neighborhoods, as I did recently on a reporting trip for this website, and you’ll find restaurants helmed by James Beard-nominated chefs and chic bars, all filled with young, (mostly) white members of the creative class that have steadily flocked to the city in the past decade, taking advantage of its relatively cheap housing and eager to insert themselves into the narrative of a city rising from the ashes.
“Detroit is in the midst of a culinary transformation,” wrote the Washington Post in 2016. That same year, Zagat proclaimed Detroit one of its “hottest food cities,” ranking it above San Francisco, Chicago, Austin, and New York City. A city that even a few years ago was described as a food desert is now a “culinary oasis.” Detroit is “cool,” typified in the popular imagination by Shinola, the purveyor of overpriced watches and bicycles, and worthy, even, of a goop travel guide.
The best thing you can eat in Detroit isn’t some artisanal doughnut or vegetable carpaccio or pork belly sliders—it’s a freakishly good $3.38 egg roll filled with corned beef and cheese
Fuck all of that. These narratives—of Detroit on the rise, of a rebirth of a city that was devastated by deindustrialization, white flight, and a callous economic retrenchment—conveniently elide the the black Detroiters, who are more than 80 percent of the city’s population, and immigrants that have for decades actually made Detroit “cool,” an erasure that is also reflected in the coverage of its food scene. The best thing you can eat in Detroit isn’t some artisanal doughnut or vegetable carpaccio or pork belly sliders—it’s a freakishly good $3.38 egg roll filled with corned beef and cheese, from Asian Corned Beef, a homegrown chain with seven locations (largely in still-black neighborhoods outside of the downtown core), and the brainchild of Kim White, an immigrant from Vietnam who moved to Detroit in 1974. Today, she runs the restaurants with her son Hasan, and an eighth location is in the works.