“Cleveland’s restaurant scene is a mostly unexplored abyss for many students at Oberlin.  The restaurants appear in unlikely places, jammed into strip malls, quiet suburbs, abandoned streets, farm stands, and downtown on occasion.  While some people think of the midwest as a sanctuary for bland tastes, my mission is to prove otherwise, by seeking out and consuming as many bold flavors and unique tastes as time and money permit.  In this land of farms, corn-fields, and malls, there is an underbelly of culinary ecstasy waiting to be found.”

It is with the utmost sadness that I confirm the closing of the donut shop on Mayfield Avenue in Cleveland’s Little Italy, a bastion of hope under the guise of its little-known name, Gilly’s, and a perpetually under-construction storefront, which supplied joy and meaning to countless souls. 

The first food item I consumed in Cleveland was a sour cream donut from this shop, one of its two specialties, the other being the double chocolate donut. 

The peculiar thing about a truly magnificent sour cream donut is the crispiness of the exterior, which exhibits none of the fluff and airiness of your conventional donut.  The rim of the donut cracks in your teeth and the dense interior melts in your mouth, revealing a creaminess that is exhumed with each falling crumble. It has the texture of a muffin with the sweetness and smoothness of high fat ice cream. 

For a long time, this donut was the single most pressing reason to travel into Cleveland.  Sure, I might go under the pretext of a concert, the art museum or a lecture, but donuts burned on my brain throughout the day. 

For those who have trouble staying awake at the concert, the solution lies in donuts, I assure you. 

Yet is there anything more to Cleveland than dynamite donuts?  Or anything else that might keep me alert through a potentially sleep-worthy concert? 

Yes!  There is good food to be had in Cleveland if you know where to look. But no, it is almost certain to be closed after an orchestra concert, unlike the 24-hour haven of the donut shop.   Most of these places are Cleveland institutions, with an atmosphere of worn-down homeliness, yet they are dependably delicious, and that is what truly counts for this writer.

The first stop is Mama Santa’s, also on Mayfield Avenue in the Little Italy section of Cleveland.  The place is billed as an Italian restaurant, but the true heart of the place is the cheapest and most delectable item on the menu, as nearly everyone in the crammed dining room will order pizza. 

One of the few places in Cleveland with a line, Mama Santa’s is as simple as they come.  The servers are gruff, the tables are covered with checkered vinyl and the pizza is frighteningly good. 

The pizza, served on a thin crust, has an exquisite crispness, crackling in the mouth against healthy amounts of sauce and melted cheese layered on top.  Though almost any combination of toppings will suffice, Mama Santa’s offers items such as the spicy-sweet pepperoncini (a kind of pepper) and fresh Italian sausage both of which are high-quality, flavor-packed and with textures that alongside the crisp creaminess of the rest of the pizza unleash a spicy, cheesy lather, encouraging uncontrollable lip-smacking.

Tommy’s, in the tiny Coventry neighborhood, is the most fun place I have found in Cleveland, sporting a retro diner-cum-restaurant atmosphere.  Situated alongside a toy store and a used bookstore, it also provides complete amusement for a night on the town! 

Tommy’s is a sort of free-for-all restaurant with a very basic list of ingredients, yet a ridiculously diverse set of combinations.  All of the food relies on central bases of hummus, falafel, meat pies, spinach pies and burgers.  These can be eaten in unadorned healthy platters or with an assortment of goodies, including baba ghanooush, cheese, barbeque sauce, veggies, sesame sauce and curry powder. 

The menu is very reasonably priced (under $10, more likely about $7) and all dishes are named after friends, cartoon characters or from the depths of the creator’s minds, such as my personal favorite, the M.R. 3. 

It sounds like a gun, but it’s delicious. 

A spinach pie with falafel, curry powder, mushrooms, sesame sauce and cheese, the M.R. 3 is an unwieldy pile of strong flavors, brought together by the flood of sauce, juices and melted cheese that inundate your plate – and sometimes your clothes.

Tommy’s also makes terrific fries, cut thicker than most and with a crisp, brown exterior that combines perfectly with the puffy softness on the inside. 

But the restaurant is known for their signature milkshakes.  There is something special about the thickness and smoothness of a Tommy’s milkshake, intoxicating and totally comforting to any emotional distress you might be having at the moment.  The creaminess is divine: a soft, lush, refreshing texture bearing intense sweetness and flavor.  After a few visits, I have settled on the vanilla milkshake with blended banana, although chocolate — with or without banana — is also mouth-watering. 

The West Side Market is not a restaurant, but instead a giant assortment of produce, meat and specialty stalls assembled in two large warehouse-like buildings on the West Side of Cleveland. 

Be prepared for more sausage stands than you have ever seen in your life: Polish, kielbasa, barbecue, pork, andouille, chorizo, spicy Italian. 

Despite Cleveland’s downfalls, if you want some sausage, this is the place to be.  But if you’re like me and love to wander around for maximum diversity of flavors, there is lots to be eaten either right away or when you get home. 

Among the immediate noshes, there are pastries galore, caramel-laced popcorn, falafel sandwiches, Italian sausage sandwiches, the supposed “World’s best Pizza-Bagel,” and Thai food in a small shack in the corner.  The nice thing about the West Side Market is it brings together all these different neighborhood foods into one place. 

I can assure you, your bite of pizza bagel will be enhanced and altered by the hummus and hot sauce still swirling around in your mouth, downed with an orange soda or the like.  As for shops, there are some terrific bakeries, including a few ethnic bakeries, such as the one featuring Polish specialities, a bunch of local cheese shops, a fresh pasta company, a fish shop tucked in the corner and all the meat you could ever want to consume. 

The most fun excursion in the market is the Mediterranean importer’s shop at the corner of the market.  The place is awash in spectacular cheese, and an assortment of unusual goods such as candied fruits and herbs, such as ginger, imported jams – plum and fig are delicious – and a full column of mostly German chocolates with a few other countries’ attempts thrown in.

So have hope, all is not lost in Cleveland. 

There is life after donuts, though it’s not quite the same.   Still, this town has a fascination  with and love of uncomplicated foods, so that sausage or pizza can become a high art.  Almost every meal I have eaten in Cleveland has had an exact correlation between levels of messiness and heights of flavor.  This oft-maligned city just may have cornered the market on comfort.