Detroit’s avenue of Fashion; where chicken, cupcakes, coffee and my first novel come together. Oh, and also space probes.
This piece is all about the time I went to Detroit’s Avenue of Fashion back in 2018 to try and market my novel to some thriving Black-owned businesses, but first I want you to look at this picture of Earth that was taken thirty years ago by the Voyager 1 space probe:
You see that little blue speck in the band of light on the right? That’s the Earth from about four billion miles away. That’s billion with a ‘b.’ Got it? Ok, on with the story.
It was a Wednesday in October and the weather was picture perfect. The temperature hovered in the mid 60s with that crisp, clean air you want to pull in by the chestful. It was the kind of autumn day we only seem to get a handful of here in Michigan before winter’s icy cold grips us until April.
Not to let it go to waste, I figured it was as good a time as any to start the grassroots, pound-the-pavement marketing campaign for my novel, Nocturne In Black and White, that I’d self-published just months before. I’d attempted to go the major publishing house route with the book, which would then of course mean I’d have the power of major publishing house marketing behind me, but after one-too-many rejection letters from literary agents, I decided to go it alone. I often wonder if the book, with a plot that tackles issues like police brutality, the lingering effects of the 1967 riot and generational racism, would have garnered their interest today with those topics defining our current zeitgeist…
I suppose that’s neither here nor there. As I was saying, it was a gorgeous day so I hit the Avenue, books in hand ready to spread the word. Why did I choose the Avenue (to the uninformed, it’s the stretch of Livernois between 7 and 8 Mile)? Years ago, it was a top regional destination for upscale shopping that had since fallen on hard times. However, several businesses have emerged in effort to restore some of that former luster and many of these restaurants, coffee shops, and boutiques are Black owned. To me, it made sense to market my book with its prevailing themes of hope, rebirth, and the reconciling with the past to these businesses that embody those very things.
My first stop was the bustling neighborhood favorite, Kuzzo’s Chicken And Waffles. What hit me immediately upon entering the door was the intoxicating aroma of fried bird. It’s the kind that sort of wraps itself around you like a warm blanket of herbs and spices. I knew right then that I would be eating entirely too much of it. But it wasn’t just the smell that was enticing. The interior featured a handsome combination of exposed brick and warm woods that was instantly welcoming while distinctly urban. Local art adorned the walls adding little pops of color. One such piece was an enormous mixed media, graffiti style portrait of rapper Notorious B.I.G. from Detroiter Desiree Kelly whose eye-popping work can also be spotted on buildings all around the city. You should check her stuff out.
The place was buzzing. When former Detroit Lion Ron Bartell opened the upscale-casual eatery in 2015 he envisioned it becoming the kind of place “you can come in jeans and a T-shirt or a suit and a tie. We want to have that type of feeling where everybody is welcome.”¹ Looking around the room, I could see that’s precisely what he got.
I sidled up to one of the few open spots available at the counter and examined the large mural painted on the bricks behind the bar that doubles both as infographic and mission statement.
“Oh! Like cousin!” I said to myself, very proud now that I understood the restaurant’s name.
A friendly, young Black waitress greeted me with a smile and a menu, which was unnecessary as I already knew what I was ordering. After all, you don’t go to a place with “chicken and waffles” in its name and order a salad (you might, but I don’t).
She took my order for the Tender Love, which consists of three hand battered tenders and a waffle, and then, noting the several copies of my novel I’d set down next to me, asked if I’d just visited a bookstore.
“Nope. These are copies of my book,” I told her, filling her on my dual purpose of marketing and supporting the Avenue. (I suppose their was a third purpose and that was filling my face.)
“What’s it about?” she asked, over the chatter of my fellow gourmands.
It’s a simple question but one that’s not so simply answered. I always wrestled with how to explain my book about racism to someone who is far more likely to be impacted by it than I, a Hispanic/Caucasian. I told her that I was inspired to write my book by the unnecessary divide in our community that has always pained and perplexed me. I expressed how I’d approached the delicate subject matter with all of the requisite care and thoughtfulness it demands and that I took care to avoid appropriating Black culture in my depictions. And I told her my true goal in writing the novel was to prompt people to reexamine their own prejudice.
After all of that, she gave me what can only be described as a ‘Look’ with a capitol ‘L.’ It wasn’t a rude look or anything like that. More like skepticism with a dash of confusion. Picture Gary Coleman wondering what Willis is talking about.
And I was fine with that. In fact, that was the reason I was there in the first place. Well, that and the chicken.
Over the next half hour or so, I waited for my lunch (you can’t rush perfection, after all) and she would periodically drop by to chat in between tending to the other customers. I enjoyed the discourse with me giving my perspective having grown up in the suburbs and hearing hers, as a lifelong Detroiter. And after I finally and concisely delivered what I believe to be the book’s ethos, that empathy and understanding is the only way to drive real progress for the region, she did me a huge service by accepting a copy of Nocturne.
Moments later, she did me an even BIGGER service by delivering me a plate of culinary bliss.
The waffle…so crisp yet so airy. The chicken…moist and plump with the right amount of crunch. The butter…how it seeps into all the little, square waffle-ditches. When you toss a morsel of the chicken into one of those pools of decadence and then you add a splash of maple syrup for some sweetness…it’s just heavenly. Anyone who objects to the marriage of these two seemingly disparate food items should NOT speak now and should FOREVER hold their peace. Because they are wrong.
When I was finished, the waitress offered me the dessert menu but I respectfully declined and requested just my bill. Though I wanted to taste of its offerings, I had already promised what little space I had left in my abdomen for the delicious goodies proffered at my next destination, Good Cakes and Bakes.
Located just steps away, it is another glowing example of Black entrepreneurialism made good. Founded by April and Michelle Anderson, the shop has provided Detroiters with fresh baked goodness for several years now. April, in particular, has quite the impressive resume, receiving an MBA from the University of Michigan before going on to bake for dignitaries like Oprah Winfrey. In 2018 she even had the honor of being named pastry chef for the James Beard Awards in NYC.
Even though I really had no business in eating anything else at that moment, I knew I had to press on. As soon as walked in, my eyes were drawn to the vibrant, colorful murals that populate the walls. They’re spirited and lively and suggestive that you’ve just entered an amusement park for your taste buds.
I meandered over to the display case and was overwhelmed with choice. Sourced from local ingredients whenever possible, it all looked so fresh and appetizing. Did I want cheesecake or brownies? Cupcakes or cookies? The answer was yes.
I had the young lady behind the counter give me a smattering of items which I would take home to the family. It would have been cruel to keep it all to myself. Needless to say, the items were received gladly and did not last long in my house.
Before leaving, I dropped off another copy of Nocturne with the young lady who was enthusiastic when I told her about it and that was all I could really ask.
“Did you want a coffee to go?” she asked.
I did, but my fix was to be filled at my last stop on the Avenue; Narrow Way Cafe.
Founded by brothers David and Jonathan Merritt, the Narrow Way Cafe exists to provide the community a fine cup of joe in a stress-free environment where they’ll be appreciated and respected. Not necessarily a novel concept, but one that can be often hard to come by for people of color. You may recall when Starbucks closed 8,000 stores one afternoon for racial-bias education after an incident at a Philadelphia location. The Merritts’ focus on community service no doubt stems from observing their parents’ forty years of dedication to the people of Detroit through the Straight Gate International Church on Grand River.
I popped in to the Cafe and suffice to say the brothers Merritt cut exactly zero corners in decorating the space. From the shimmering white subway tile behind the baristas to the neon sign with their distinctive logo of a merged N and W, every detail seems well thought out and executed. The luxurious studded padding along the benches and with the gigantic, cursived Narrow Way wall sign above…it’s all *chef’s kiss*.
Honestly, the cafe wouldn’t look out of place in Ann Arbor, or even Chicago or New York. And I think that’s what I loved most about it. Sure, the coffee was delicious and the friendly, young barista even accepted a copy of my book, but the fact that Detroiters have a space like it to study, unwind, or even just have a conversation is the real triumph. Bravo, fellas!
So went my journey of grassroots marketing along the Avenue of Fashion. What does it have to do with a thirty year old photo where the Earth looks like a speck of dust? Nothing, really but also, everything. Let me clarify.
It was astronomer, cosmologist and author Carl Sagan that requested NASA have the Voyager 1 space probe turn its camera around to snap that one last picture of Earth as it drifted further towards the outer limits of the solar system. He thought that by viewing our world from this vastly different perspective, it may help mankind better acknowledge its place in the universe.
He would go on to publish a book called Pale Blue Dot in 1994 where he would expound on this idea. In one particularly poignant excerpt that I encourage everybody read at least once, he stated that man’s “posturing” and “imagined self-importance…are challenged by this point of pale light,” and to view our world in this way, smaller than a pixel, should make us all rethink “our responsibility” to care for “one another.”²
Much of the strife our country is currently embroiled in seems to stem from a deficit in the caring for one another department. The good thing about it is, once you recognize the problem, that there are countless ways to remedy it. Some choose to raise funds supporting worthy causes, others lock arms in protest. On that afternoon a few years back, I chose to support some people who are doing right by their community by patronizing their businesses (with my stomach reaping much of the benefits).
Maybe eating isn’t your thing (if so, you’re missing out). The Avenue also features art galleries, clothing shops and even a jazz icon, the historic Baker’s Keyboard Lounge. And if you don’t live near the Avenue of Fashion, that’s fine. There is someone near you doing something to elevate and unite the community. Seek them out and support them. Whatever you do needn’t be some grand gesture to register in the win column. It can be something as simple as a smile or a kind word.
It would serve us well to remember that pale blue dot and how it trivializes all of the hate and melts away all of our perceived differences like butter on hot, crisp waffle. Because if you think about it, really think about it, deep down we are all kuzzos.
Links: https://goodcakesandbakes.com/ https://thenarrowwaycafe.com/ http://www.kuzzoschickenandwaffles.com/
¹ https://detroit.eater.com/2015/2/27/8092495/check-out-livernois-newest-southern-style-eatery-kuzzos-chicken#0
² https://www.planetary.org/explore/space-topics/earth/pale-blue-dot.html
Art design: Erik Belcarz. Credits: earth photo, nasa (public domain). Frame, Beach-Gal-1 (pixabay). All embedded photos, Erik Belcarz. sign, charlieus, b (foursquare).