HopCat — Restaurant in Southgate

There’s a burger in front of me that thinks it’s a cocktail. It sits there under the dim, self-consciously "industrial" lighting, a monument to a marketing idea that probably should have stayed on the whiteboard. The “Dirty Martini Burger.” You can just picture the brainstorming session, fueled by flat-fee consultants and lukewarm coffee. Let’s not just sell them a burger; let’s sell them a concept. Let’s mash up the country club bar with a roadside dive and see what happens. What happens is a half-pound of beef smothered in olive tapenade and Swiss cheese, served in a place called HopCat in the middle of Southgate, Michigan. My expectations are somewhere below sea level. The fries got here first. They call them “Cosmic Fries” now. Before that, they were “Crack Fries,” a name that was at least honest about its intentions. The change is a perfect little portrait of corporate America: invent something edgy and addictive, get a little heat for it, and then retreat into the kind of bland, meaningless language that focus groups adore. Cosmic. Right. But you put one in your mouth, and the marketing bullshit just melts away. The things are engineered for maximum damage. A shattering-crisp shell from a beer-batter bath gives way to fluffy potato, the whole thing carpet-bombed with a seasoning of black pepper and God-knows-what-else. You dip it in the accompanying vat of molten, Velveeta-orange cheese sauce—a substance that has no business being this delicious—and you just give in. It’s a surrender. But the burger is the real test. You don’t name something this audacious and serve up mediocrity. You have to commit to the bit. I pick it up. The bun is brioche, a bit too delicate for the job, but it holds. The first bite is a category five hurricane of salt. A tidal wave of brine from the coarse, pulpy olive mash hits you first, followed by the funky melt of Swiss and then, finally, the beef. The patty is thick, unapologetically greasy, cooked to a proper medium with a charred crust. It’s a beautiful, chaotic mess. The olive flavor, which should be a jarring, pretentious distraction, somehow becomes the star player. It slices through the fat like a razor, a salty, pungent counterpoint that makes every other flavor louder. It’s the culinary equivalent of putting a Fender Stratocaster through a distorted Marshall amp. It’s loud, it’s obnoxious, and it absolutely shreds. I look around the room. It’s the usual menagerie—the craft beer nerds ticking off their Untappd lists, the first dates, the office drones blowing off steam. The place is a machine, designed and replicated across the Midwest for maximum efficiency. But this burger, this glorious, ill-conceived, perfectly executed slab of meat and salt? It’s a ghost in that machine. It’s a triumph of pure, decadent appetite over clever branding. It’s proof that even in the most calculated of spaces, you can still find something that tastes reckless and real. This isn't health food. It's not culture. It’s a dirty, filthy, delicious middle finger to good taste. And I’ll be damned if I didn’t love every...

First things first: Mae, our server, was the whole hoppy deal. If servers were IPAs, she’d be the most perfectly balanced pour — bright, bold, and left us buzzing. Honestly, I’d come back just to bask in her good vibes and killer menu picks.

As for HopCat Southgate itself? Talk about a place that knows how to pour on the charm. From the second we walked in, it was all sunshine and suds — vibrant décor, a crowd that was clearly living its best life, and an energy that could turn a Tuesday into a Friday night.

Now let’s talk grub. Those Cosmik Fries? I’m pretty sure they’re fried in liquid joy. Each bite had me raising my imaginary glass for a toast. And speaking of glasses, with 40 taps lined up like a craft beer runway, I was basically a kid in a hop shop. Tried two, wanted twenty.

Even the mayor was geeking out over HopCat landing in Southgate, and after tonight, I totally get why. This isn’t just a bar — it’s a frothy little community hub where the only thing stronger than the beer list is the temptation to cancel tomorrow’s plans so you can stay all night.

So cheers to HopCat for brewing up such an epic spot, and a double cheers to May for being the real MVP of our evening.

Five stars? Pfft. More like five golden pints overflowing with awesome. Can’t wait to come back for another round — May, save us a seat (and your best picks from...

I recently had the opportunity to visit HopCat in my neighborhood with my sister, and unfortunately, the experience fell short of expectations.

The service, while polite, was somewhat lacking in attentiveness and efficiency. Our appetizer, which was a plate of the restaurant's signature French fries with cheese sauce, arrived lukewarm. The fries were so heavily seasoned that it was overwhelming—I found myself practically choking on the seasoning blend. While I appreciate a bold take on a classic dish, this one missed the mark for me. The accompanying cheese sauce was watery and lacked depth of flavor, doing little to complement the fries.

For the main course, I ordered the mac and cheese, which unfortunately incorporated the same bland cheese sauce. After just four bites, I decided to take the rest home. However, I ended up discarding it later due to how poorly it sat with me—it upset my stomach quite a bit. My sister had a similar experience and was equally unimpressed.

While I always hope to support local businesses and enjoy discovering new dining spots, this particular visit was a disappointment. With improvements to flavor execution and food temperature, this place could have potential, but as it stands, I won’t be...