For a tiny carryout tucked inside a Southfield liquor store, Mi Casa Tacos is big on many things.
Spices. Flavors. Selection. Hospitality.
And, said manager and partner Reggie Smith, “we’re very big on peace” — which explains a menu notation you’re unlikely to see at even the largest restaurants.
The first entry under “Sides” on the 8-by-10-inch cards stacked atop the counter is a traditional Mexican street corn with a mayonnaise spread, cotija cheese and the chili seasoning known as tajin.
“Elote − $7,” it says. Then, between parentheses, comes a weepy-faced emoji and a request: “Stop The War.”
As usual on our ill-tempered planet, there are several of those to choose from. Mi Casa is taking aim at the one in the Middle East.
It’s not a matter of politics, said Smith, 37, so let’s not ramp up the hostility. It’s about general philosophy, practicality and prices.
Mi Casa is 3 months old, which makes it about the same age as our Strait-of-Hormuz-blocking, anxiety-spiking standoff with Iran.
We all notice the peaks and higher peaks of gas prices, but the bulk costs of things like tomatoes and corn have doubled, Smith said. “We couldn’t even find corn for a minute.”
That crisis passed, but he’d much rather sell elote for $5 than $7, and go back to marinating pork and grilling chicken worry-free.
More tacos. Less strife. Order an agua fresca del dia on ice — blended juice, in strawberry, pineapple, mango and more — and chill.
Old recipes and old-style hellos
Mi Casa turns out first-rate tacos and truly memorable rice from a tiny kitchen just inside the front door of Franklin Liquor Store.
From Northwestern Highway, turn into the little strip mall with the Taste of Ethiopia at the end and glide all the way through the parking lot. Or, point your GPS to 28500 Franklin Road.
Either way, expect to be greeted when you step inside.
“How many times do you walk into a place, and nobody says anything?” Smith asked. “Why would you eat there if it’s not hospitable?”
Smith had spent a decade in fast-food management and training, he said, when an old friend from their days at a medical marijuana dispensary called with “the best idea in the world.”
The friend goes by Rudi G, which makes his Mexican-born wife Vida G. They wanted to build a takeout spot around her family recipes, in a city whose only other non-chain Mexican outlet appears to be Las Cazuelas on Evergreen Road.
Las Cazuelas has tables, bright colors and its own earthy origin story — it’s spun off from a tiny restaurant at a gas station in southwest Detroit — but it’s 4 miles and a couple of roundabouts to the southeast.
“Do you walk away from that bread-and-butter job,” Smith said, “or do you take that leap of faith?”
He jumped, and found himself hustling through a half-a-cigarette break out front the other day when a stocky man rolled up in a wheelchair.
Smith stubbed out the cigarette and opened the door for him. Near the agua frescas, Richard Hammond gave the new arrival a nod and a smile and said, “Welcome.”
All roads lead to tacos
Hammond, 24, is a Detroiter and former bartender who’s already fond of the hours, the clientele and the food.
“People ask, ‘How is it?’ ” he said. “I say, ‘Our elotes, they stop wars.’ “
If that’s premature, it does sound like a nice peace offering. And the walking tacos are building bridges.
From behind the liquor counter, store manager Yuri Dado, 41, of Southfield, said his favorite item is the Mexican pizza. But kids gravitate to the walking taco, an inspired approach to the Fritos-and-chili snack stand classic in which the customer buys any bag of chips on the premises and Mi Casa piles on meat, beans, cheese, sour cream, red onion and tomato.
That, social media, and yes, tacos, are bringing in families from places beyond the store’s normal reach.
“Franklin, Bloomfield Hills. They know we’re here now,” Dado said. “Tacos and tequila, they go together.”
At Mi Casa’s sliver of the store, a man from Southfield who said he had been in for tacos at lunchtime was back for a light supper. He was considering elote.
“Take a bite of faith,” Hammond told him.
It hasn’t changed the world yet, but there’s always hope.
Reach Neal Rubin at NARubin@freepress.com.
This article originally appeared on Detroit Free Press: At Mi Casa Tacos in Southfield, elote comes with a plea for peace
Reporting by Neal Rubin, Detroit Free Press / Detroit Free Press
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By Neal Rubin, Detroit Free Press | USA TODAY Network
