I like to start every restaurant review by reminding everyone that I am NOT a food critic, nor am I a professionally-trained chef. The only thing that I am professionally trained at is eating good food, and we have my French/Armenian family to thank for that. So if you ever don’t like any of my reviews, I am going to ask you to calm down and eat a soft pretzel or something because you’re clearly carb-free or you wouldn’t be getting so upset. Or maybe you’re a Trump supporter and just upset all the time? Who knows. I can’t fix you.
So anyway, down to business: Townhouse Detroit. Let’s start by saying that I’ve been to this place twice now, and it’s easily in the top 3 most beautiful places to eat in Detroit. For starters, when you walk in, you see the wrap-around bar right away, which is nice because it gives me ample room to check out cute guys and lots of angles to work with when flirting. I’m an awkward flirter. I need all the angles that I can get.
The staff at Townhouse is nice. Real nice. Hospitable as crap. The hostesses are super friendly and the wait staff is smart, personable and that sort of level of cool that leaves you wondering what their Instagram profile looks like. Their suspender-black pants-denim apron look is definitely an emoji-thumbs-up. I was eating my burger thinking, “Where can I get that apron.” Ya know, for when my boyfriend that I meet at the bar at Townhouse stops in and I make him dinner. Gotta look good for bae.
Let’s talk about the atrium at Townhouse: Divine. If you go there and do not sit in the atrium, you are a fool. Some of you just got upset because I called you a fool, and that’s fine. I’m fine with that. The inside of Townhouse is a total building-babe as well, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that I love being outside, and the atrium is perfect for when it’s too hot, too cold, raining, or you don’t want the breeze blowing your hair into your lipgloss. PLUS, bonus, the top of the atrium opens so you can gaze at that crisp Detroit sky while eating truffle fries. God, life is good.
So let’s get down to the real thing that you’re all dying to know here: how’s the food? Let me start by saying that the last time I dined here, I brought my parents for their anniversary. How many years have they been married? Who knows. Anyway, I told them to get whatever they wanted. My mom got the build-your-own-salad, which is awesome because you can avoid all of the fancy, weird things that restaurants put on your salad that you’re stuck pushing to the side because this isn’t Top Chef and you don’t want pickled golden beets.
And if you’re like me, a girl with an appetite, please know that these salads are MASSIVE. Like butt-size salads. (Butt sized because my butt is easily the biggest thing on my body and we needed a comparison. Also, a reminder of why I should order more salads. #booty)
I ordered the Townhouse Veggie Burger. I’m not gonna lie to you guys, it wasn’t the best veggie burger of my life, mainly because veggie burgers aren’t meant to be the best burgers of your life, but it was still very, very good. I ordered it with the truffle fries because I don’t want to come across as too healthy and snooty but mainly because I have zero self-control around these fries. More on that later. The consistency of the burger was almost like a falafel. Lots of rice, lots of black beans, and the on-the-side Sriracha Aioli was bomb. (Can I be totally transparent with you? I don’t know how to pronounce aioli. I’m a human, guys. It’s hard to remember because I’m so wonderful, I know.)
Dad ordered a plethora or appetizers: Preserved Mushroom Flatbread (pizza with mushrooms, for the less fancy), Crab & Avocado Toast, and Tomato Tartare (Caprese salad with crunchy baguettes). He loved all three, but I knew that he really liked the Preserved Mushroom Flatbread because every time he took a bite, his head fell back and he closed his eyes. For a second, I thought he had passed out from the beauty of the atrium, but, as it turns out, this is just what dad does when he’s overwhelmed by a taste sensation. He kept saying, “This is very good.” He’s a man of few words, so that is pretty huge.
Before we move on from the food, let me tell you about these dang truffle fries. I was 4 days into the diet that I’ve been 4 days into for about 4 years now and saw some truffle fries come out and land on somebody else’s table. So in true Barterian form, we ordered some.
I just want to make sure that I’m being perfectly clear: I would buy these fries off of a guy on the corner who was selling them out of his trenchcoat if they were illegal. (“Hey, you got that stuff?” JK, mom, I’ve never bought drugs.) They are THE BEST FRIES IN DETROIT. Hopcat who?
So, let’s sum up: Townhouse is immaculate. If I were God and I had to pick a restaurant to birth my new delicious entree, I would pick Townhouse. That’s the level of immaculate that I’m talking about. The entire experience was great, beginning to end. The decor is perfection. It’s a smidge pricey for the average, middle-class American who pays for Netflix (used often), a gym membership (not used as often as Netflix), and a library full of iBooks that she hasn’t gotten around to reading, but completely worth the cost. Is it fancy? Well, it did take my mom 5 minutes to figure out how to use the salt shaker and then 56 seconds to figure out how to get out of the incredibly clear glass doors to leave the restaurant, so I would say yeah, a little bit. Dress code? I wouldn’t wear shorts and a t-shirt there, but that’s just me. I’m sure you could, but I’m kind of the Beyonce of Detroit, so I usually try to at least wear heels and lipstick and maybe brush my hair if I have time.
Townhouse, in my opinion, gets 5/5 stars, mainly because their atrium is ON POINT and their truffle fries leave me wondering what my life was before truffle fries. Townhouse is the perfect place for a date, a rehearsal dinner, a girls night, a celebration, a serious talk, or just a huge splurge on truffle fries that force you on the treadmill for 2 hours at 3am (my life).
Go to Townhouse. It’s a must. Don’t be a fool.