Maurice Salad

I made my own wedding dress. I remember buying the fabric in the basement fabric department at Hudson’s Department Store on Woodward Avenue in Detroit. I loved that store. Shopping there meant I had moved up in the world.

Hudson’s opened in 1911. At 410 feet, it was the tallest department store in the world. It had fifty women’s restrooms, 39 men’s—obviously, Mr. Hudson was a genius. In the ladies’ room, an attendant showed you to a free compartment and handed you a cloth towel. She had an assortment of colognes if you needed a spritz, and other ladies’ supplies. If all you needed was the towel, you gave her a quarter.

The elevators still had operators who made sure the doors were closed and that the car was level with the floor. As the car ascended or descended, each time they stopped, they called out the departments on the floor, “Ladies, Mens, Linens, Housewares, Shoes.”
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When you went to Hudson’s, you went for the day. One of the special treats was the Maurice Salad in the dining room on the 13th floor. I always followed that with the Apple Danish, served warm with a vanilla sauce. The crust was a hundred layers (or so it seemed) of crispy pastry, the apples cut small, sweetened and spiced just right. The sauce dressed it to perfection.

In 1983, I was living in Florida when I heard that Hudson’s had closed its doors forever. It felt like losing an old friend, a friend I had known since childhood. It broke my heart.