GUEST POST--LUCY BLUMPKIN GOES TO ANN ARBOR

Today's guest post is from Lucy Blumpkin.

Dropped into downtown Ann Arbor after a long hiatus to see a show.

Memories of past dining experiences arose pleasantly as I juggled time and location issues. Many options swirled but one rose to the top like a plump olive in a martini, The Grecian Pizza joint two or three doors down from The Michigan Theater.

Rolling into town, I soon realized what a few months absence could do to a place. All the old standby eateries I recalled from the old days of loafing in Ann Arbor were strangely missing. These landmarks were the foundation of my navigation in the city, and I was soon befuddled as to where I even was. Seva, the veggie haven was still there. But where I knew the Grecian should have been, was literally a new block of architecture. Gone was the brightly lit, linoleum-floored haven that had supplied beers, thin slices and good antipasto before concerts gone by. Gone, in fact, was the pay phone outside that had heard so much of my useless chatter in the days before the pocket tele.

Parking hadn’t changed, and my date Jesse Sheafer drove around for 10 minutes, finding street parking in the residential area near Ann and Thayer. Amazing historic homes being ripped apart by students trying to load kegs in the window. Or so Jesse reasoned based on days visiting friends here as an undergrad.

Walking into town, we searched for a non-franchised establishment. Considering the scandal when Starbucks took over the corner of Liberty and State, the coffee shop now seemed like an old friend with Cosi, Buffalo Wild Wings, Potbelly and the like budding up like a teen blemish.

Then we walked by a cavernous place, all pale wood, high ceilings and sherbet silk fabrics. The delightful menu on the door declaimed it a place where you could relax, feel at home and enjoy food in good company (or something as granola crunchy.) Nuff said, we went in.

The thin, knit capped mild-mannered host may as well have said “Welcome to Ann Arbor” as he led us to a roomy booth with warm lighting and large menus. The next two things that happened were testament that they saw me coming and were prepared. First, we were instantly served large delicious glasses of water with ice. And second, the easy-to-find restroom (below street level, A² style) was delightfully warm.

The large bar area was festooned with students, and my eye instantly registered the sweet potato fries, thus beginning my wish list.

The menu offered interesting subsections such as Small Plates, Sides and Hand Helds along with the usual Entrees and Sandwiches.

Another thin young man walked up and offered his services as our waiter. With his soft manner, he was instantly likable and when he came back later smelling slightly of smoke, I liked him even more.

As is my wont, I made a menu choice then changed my mind several times until the waiter arrived to receive my questions.

“Tell me about the Caribbean Fish Taco’s, are they good?” I began.

“Oh yes, they are very popular at lunch,” he delivered back. This being dinner, I naturally slid the tacos into the maybe category.

“What about the lobster BLT?” I prodded

“We get a quite a few orders for that,” he said ambiguously.

LBLT was dead.

“What other fishy sort of things do you recommend?” I asked as if I were just asanxious as everyone to come to a conclusion.

“The seafood with pasta has this amazing white wine sauce…” he started to say, before I waved him off with disinterest.

“What about the butternut squash ravioli?” I tried.

He brightened, “That’s my absolute favorite thing on the menu.”

I had finally worn him out.

After a few minutes of contemplation to

imply that I had my own mind, I proceeded to order the ravioli.

“Oh, can we have the sweet potato fries as an appetizer?” I said, gratuitously including my partner.

Jesse made an easy getaway, ordering a cob hand-held and a bowl of the tomato bisque.

The soup was the first to arrive, and we explored its basily-garlic goodness, noting its similarity to that of Win Schulers in Marshall, Mich.

The fries did not disappoint, lightly flour-coated and fried to a delightful crispness, served with a creamy red pepper sauce.

Jesse enjoyed his wrap, while eyeing my bumpy brown dish suspiciously.

I sliced into the ravioli pillow brimming with squash, and slid it through the cream picking up walnut pieces and bits of sun-dried tomato along the way. It melted in my mouth. I ate in rapture until sharing occurred to me, but my offer was politely declined.

Knowing I wouldn’t be taking any home I ate too much, having been raised in the clean plate school of dining. I forced a bite on the reluctant Jesse, who humored me, then was more than pleasantly surprised. He too overindulged.

Sava’s posted promise did not disappoint. The experience in fact, gave me a tiny shred of hope that maybe the Ann Arbor I’d feared so changed, was simply evolving, it’s core individuality still intact. The card I grabbed on the way out confirmed my hunch; in addition to the vitals, the card read Life I love you, all is groovy.

Sava’s Cafe

734-623-2233