<< Front page Commentary March 12, 2004

Chicken Soup for the Rock ’n’ Roll Hall of Fame

(Part one in a three-part series on Ohio City.)

It was during a languorous, balmy afternoon last semester that I discovered the Soupermarket. This was way back when I was still into Dean and long before I started drinking Shaefer in the shower before my 9:30 classes in an attempt to harden my resolve for the icy trudge across Tappan Square. Those were the early weeks of September, when the thought of the encroaching darkness of winter and the circle-jerk of American politics were like a story someone had told me once, so long ago it couldn’t possibly still be true.

I had driven into Cleveland on a Saturday to buy olives and pastries and other treats of which Oberlin stores only sell sucky and expensive versions. Across the street from the West Side Market, on the south side of a little park, a tiny storefront had opened with a name equal parts clever and obvious. For those who have never been, the West Side Market is a highly magical covered market with stall after stall of butchers, bakers, produce people, flower sellers and delightfully overzealous cheese guys. It’s located in the up-and-coming neighborhood of Ohio City, which is maybe where Real World Cleveland would be shot (or, if I may be so bold, will be shot).

Everyone loves to talk about how much of a ditch Cleveland is, and I almost hate to ruin the fun by saying, without a trace of sarcasm, that Ohio City is a rockin’ place. Hidden in unexpected corners you can find ornate early 20th century architecture that hasn’t yet been gentrified, strange hand-painted signs, excellent food and, perhaps what the rest of Cleveland most sorely lacks, people walking around on the streets. If circumstances dictated that I remain in Cleveland after graduation, I would get an apartment in Ohio City and laugh in the faces of my Williamsburg friends with their gi-normous rents in exchange for paltry landholdings.

The Soupermarket is little more than a counter that sells homemade soups, salads and stocks. There is standing-room-only capacity for about five people to slurp their soup from plastic to-go containers, and business is brisk. It’s owned by a young chef named Matt Moore, with whom I had the pleasure of chatting last week. I showed up at 5:30, just after the arrival of his five-o’clock shadow. Tom Waits was on the stereo in an end-of-the-day kind of way, and Matt was the only person working. He wore a spotless chef’s jacket and a Cleveland Indians hat on which the image of the mascot was tastefully absent. In his late 20s, Matt got a degree in sculpture at Ohio University, which promptly proved itself useless to his career. While working in restaurants as a busboy, waiter and prep cook through college, he got really interested in “watching chefs do their thing” (acting like maniacs, basically). After graduation, he began working his way up, got a culinary degree and opened the Soupermarket last year.

The soup options change seasonally, with six soups on offer all season and two new soups offered every week. Currently on offer are crab bisque, New England clam chowder, jambalaya, chicken noodle, chunky wild mushroom and tomato-ginger. I had one of the two soups of the week, sweet tomato and okra, and it was a perfectly composed meal — not too acidic on the tomatoes, luscious firmness to the okra. In the summer, Matt devises four chilled soups and four hot soups, and he “beefs up the salads.” Additionally, you can buy bulk stock made from scratch three times a week in an intimidating stainless steel vat visible behind the counter.

Soupermarket is a disarmingly pleasant experience. You can see all the soups and point to any one you’d like to sample in a little cup. Once you make your choice, it’s ladled into a humble container, the impish lad behind the counter hands you a warm chunk of homemade bread for dipping, a modest amount of cash changes hands and off you go. Perhaps it’s Matt’s combination of youth and sophistication — “I’ve worked everywhere in Cleveland,” he says with mock wariness — that makes it the kind of place that Oberlin students would really appreciate.

Soupermarket is doing well in its first year. Most of the customers are regulars from the neighborhood, and there’s an atmosphere of cheerful industry that pervades the place, which is hard to find in other parts of Cleveland. Matt maintains that Ohio City is blowing up, albeit gradually. When I asked him what owning a small business in Ohio City is like, he told me something that has the potential to definitively explode our dear little Oberlin bubble: “This city has more potential than any city in Ohio to be awesome.”

Soup or salad for one, incl. bitchin’ homemade bread: $4-6
Vegetarian/vegan friendly? Hells yes.
Service: Charming all-boy staff
Atmosphere: Despite absence of chairs or tables, quite hospitable.
Recommended: Tomato ginger soup, jambalaya.

Soupermarket
2528 Lorain Ave, Ohio City
Hours: M-F, 11-6:30; Sat 11-5


 
 
   

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