Detroit Shipping Company

We brought reinforcements: Mike’s sister and her family in from out of town, four adults and a kid, and not one of us wanting the same thing. This is the exact problem Detroit Shipping Company was built to solve — twenty-one refurbished containers welded into a two-story food hall on Peterboro, six independently run kitchens inside, everybody ordering what they actually want and still ending up at the same long table.

The wings from Konjo Me were the table favorite, no contest: real spice worked into the breading, two sauces alongside, and the woman taking our order walked us through the whole Ethiopian menu, asked what we did and didn’t like, and steered us right. Momo Cha’s chicken and pork dumplings held up. Bangkok 96’s shrimp and salmon bowl was a generous plate and considerably spicier at “medium” than we’d bargained for. Motorburger’s burgers ran a touch dry — the fries covered for them — and the Sushi Lounge tempura roll arrived in pieces big enough to need two bites, which is a complaint we’ll allow.

The room is boomy, because stacked steel is boomy; there’s music, but you won’t name the song. The bar staff move a long line fast, water stations are everywhere, and one enormous ceiling fan keeps a hot day survivable — hold your napkins. It’s also a launch point for a couple of bar-crawl outfits and a short walk from Little Caesars Arena. Upstairs: a small shop called Detroit Dog Mom Company (our pug endorses the treats), a podcast studio, and a deck looking out over the empty lot where the Gold Dollar once stood — the bar where Jack White played the White Stripes’ first show. Drag bingo was filling the back tent while we were there, which, given the Gold Dollar spent three decades as a drag venue, felt like the block quietly keeping its own tradition.