What Michigan Knew

This is from The Sportswriter, by Richard Ford, which I'm in the middle of reading right now. It also (like the below) takes place in New Jersey. And there's a spell in Detroit, which this passage is taken from.

Far out crowded Grand River I am struck by what seems like thousands of restaurants, and by how dedicated the population is to going out to eat. As much as cars, meals are what's on people's minds. Though there is a small and heart-swelling glory to these places--chop houses, hofbraus, rathskellers, rib joints, cafes of all good quality. Part of life's essence is here. And on a brooding spring eve, a fast foray out to any one of them can be just enough to make any out-of-the-way loneliness bearable another nighttime through. In most ways, I can promise you, Michigan knows exactly what it's doing. It knows the enemy and the odds.