Michigan

There’s a primal, exhilarating hunger that only hits when you’ve got Lake Michigan salt in your hair and sand in places it shouldn’t be. The shoreline has this uncanny way…

In the depths of a Michigan February, or March, a dinner reservation is the only currency that matters. When the sky turns that permanent shade of “impending doom,” you need…

My travel bucket list has always looked a little different than most; while some people are chasing infinity pools, I’m usually hunting for a dining room that used to be…

My obsession with the Michigan breakfast scene has led me to a startling conclusion: we don’t just eat cinnamon rolls here, but enter into a temporary, sugar-induced trance. I’ve spent…

My relationship with gluten has reached a point where I’m basically tracking bakery “drop times” like they’re limited-edition sneakers. My car practically self-steers toward these small-town Michigan storefronts the moment…

I used to think my palate was jaded, that after a lifetime of hunting down every hand-pinched tortellini and al dente noodle in the Midwest, I had finally seen the…

Look, I’m the first to admit I have a very specific set of standards when it comes to dining, but there is a neon-lit hum on John R Road that…

February in Michigan is essentially a test of human endurance, and frankly, the only way I know how to pass is with something warm, buttery, and unapologetically oversized. On those…

Hear me out: I know the Michigan wind is currently trying to peel the skin off your face, but you absolutely need to be eating ice cream right now. Stepping…

Look, I am the person who believes “moderation” is just a word for people who haven’t tasted a truly great pastry. My alarm clock and I are usually enemies, but…

February in Armada has a way of turning the world into a flat, gray watercolor painting, and the only known cure is a crust that shatters like a well-kept secret….

When a gray February afternoon starts to feel like a personal affront, the windows at 966 Cherry Street glow with the inviting warmth of a well-loved reading lamp. Stepping inside,…

Standing on a dark Jackson street corner at 5:00 AM might feel like the start of a noir film, but the plot twist is much sweeter. I watched the golden,…

When I fist pulled into the lot on Dixie Highway and my inner raccoon immediately started doing backflips. You know that feeling when your whiskers twitch because you just know…

Last summer I tracked the slow, rhythmic crawl of the Black River until the world finally loosened its tie at this dockside legend. This isn’t some manicured waterfront stage set….

When I stepped out of the Northern Michigan sun and into a brick-lined throat it seemed like it swallowed the 21st century whole. Walking beneath the former asylum grounds, the…

The moment I stepped onto the path, my shoulders dropped about two inches. There’s a specific, cool dampness that lives along the St. Joseph River. It is a scent of…

I learned that when a local in Marquette points you toward a low-slung building on US 41, you don’t ask questions, you just get in line. The second I opened…

Listen, if you grew up with a Polish grandmother who guarded her kitchen like a high-security vault, you know that “authentic” is a word people throw around way too easily….

I used to think I had the Michigan BBQ map completely figured out, but then a single curl of hickory smoke at this Michigan spot pulled me off course and…

I’m the type of person who will drive three hours out of the way just for a five-minute glimpse of a rescue animal, so finding a 160-acre black bear sanctuary…

There is a certain kind of peace found in downtown Clare at 5 a.m., a quiet blue hour where the only sign of life is the golden, buttery light spilling…

I’ve spent half my life chasing the perfect “lake hair, don’t care” energy, and this tucked-away marina spot in Muskegon finally nailed the vibe. You have to weave past the…

If a restaurant has been slinging the same red sauce and keeping the same loyal crowd for decades, you know it’s doing something right. I mean, these aren’t your trendy…

I’m the person who travels with a bag of loose-leaf herbs and a portable humidifier, so when I heard about a literal sanctuary of salt tucked away on W Ferry…

There is a moment on that narrow mile of trail where the cedar shade swallows the light, and for a second, the world goes silent. Then, the trees part, and…

Finding good Italian produce around here used to feel like a part-time job involving three different stores and a lot of disappointment over mealy tomatoes. I actively looked for a…

Along the rugged edge of Lake Huron in the eastern Upper Peninsula, there’s a trailhead that feels less like a hiking path and more like a secret passage. Stepping out…

Blink while you’re driving through Clare and you might miss it, but let me tell you, that would be a tragic mistake. Stepping into this tiny slice of Michigan history…

Look, I’m at a point where I’ve officially run out of patience for “deconstructed” anything and waiters who explain the origin story of my garnish. That’s why walking into this…

Outside, the Detroit wind is busy turning the sidewalks into a salt-crusted mosaic, but inside these brick walls, the air carries that intoxicating, vanilla-and-dust perfume of a million old souls….

Driving into Alpena feels like a mission to find the soul of the sunrise side, and every local I talked to pointed toward the same modest, hand-painted spot before I…

A specific kind of magic happens when you stumble into a hidden pocket of Michigan where the pathways curl like storybook sentences. Every time I stepped on any of these…

Most of the time I am skeptical of the “all-you-can-eat” promise, mostly because I’ve been burned by lukewarm gravy and sad, wilted lettuce more times than I care to admit….

I’ve always been a sucker for a place with “good bones,” and walking into this storied former hotel in Marshall felt like a heavy, velvet curtain had finally closed on…

I finally found that place, the kind of spot that makes you want to roll the windows down and just drive until you hit the water. I was wandering across…

I’ve reached an age where I’ve lost my patience for “concepts” and foam on my dinner. I just want something that has stood the test of time without blinking. Standing…

I’ll be honest, when I pulled off US-12 in Onsted, I wasn’t expecting to find a literal time machine. But stepping onto those weathered boardwalks felt like stumbling through a…

Look, I’m part of a generation that grew up ordering everything through a glass screen, so standing on Beaubien Street under that weathered sign feels like finally finding the “real”…

There’s a ghost of a better era that still haunts the asphalt in Dexter, a neon-lit sanctuary that feels like the last standing bridge to 1954. When the February wind…

There is a certain frequency you only find in the pockets of Michigan where the machines finally stopped humming and the maples moved back in to claim the silence. Walking…

There’s a specific kind of February wind in Fennville that not only chills your skin, it also hunts for your soul. But the moment you stumble through that heavy wooden…

I used to think finding legitimate, wood-fired brisket required a plane ticket to Austin and a cowboy hat I definitely can’t pull off. But then I pulled into a gravelly…

Standing at the edge of Muskegon Lake, I’ll admit I felt a bit small staring up at that jagged, steel silhouette. It looks like a time capsule that’s still humming…

I’ll be honest: when people first told me I’d find world-class noodles tucked away on West Nine Mile, I gave them a “sure, Jan” look. I’ve been burned by overhyped…

February in Michigan is basically a test of endurance, and by the time I hit Beverly Hills on a gray Tuesday, I was failing. I’ve heard the hype about “legendary”…

Skip the polished bistro with the QR-code menus for once, you want the Michigan that still has grease under its fingernails and a soul that hasn’t been corporate-scrubbed. I’m talking…

I tumbled through the door on a freezing Ann Arbor Tuesday, my glasses immediately fogging over with a glorious, greasy cloud of griddle steam and the scent of onions caramelizing…

I stepped off John R Street and honestly, I thought I’d broken the space-time continuum. One minute I’m in modern Detroit, and the next, I’m swallowed by a subterranean cavern…