In Benton Harbor, Anemel’s James Galbraith is Challenging the Standard

I grew up in a small town a few miles from Lake Michigan, or as we called it, “The Lake”, because any other body of water was really just a pond in comparison. My summers were spent playing in the sand or walking the pier to watch the sunset, and winters were spent hiking along the beach and climbing the ice shelves (don’t try this at home). The Lake was more than a nice place—it was a main character in my adolescence.

So, after seven years of living away in land-locked states (Ohio, Tennessee), I moved back—not to Michigan, but to South Bend. If you live here, you know The Lake is less than an hour’s drive, and I suspect it’s a feature of your summers.

The little beach towns sprinkling the coast of Lake Michigan are all similarly quaint, each with a pier, a lighthouse, a public beach, and a little downtown with souvenir shops and the obligatory chocolate store. The area is brimming with people when the weather is warm and eerily desolate in the cold months. As for the restaurants, well, they’re pretty standard.

But, in Benton Harbor, there is a chef who is challenging the standard.

On the corner of Fifth and Main sits a casual Tex-Mex joint called Anemel Tortaria, led by chef James Galbraith. Benton Harbor’s Arts District is a bit inland from The Lake—it’s grittier here. It’s also home to Houndstooth, a fine dining restaurant owned by James and his sister Cheyenne that has earned respect and admiration around the region.

I think of Anemel as Houndstooth’s younger sibling—the fun, rebellious one—just a few blocks from each other. Stroll in, and you might think you’ve been transported to Logan Square—or Austin, Texas, for that matter.

The restaurant is housed in a renovated Texaco station from the 1940s featuring fresh brick, lime green paint, and modern garage doors for walls. The original Texaco sign, now showcasing Anemel’s logo, towers above a large patio with surround sound and a wide, green awning.

Inside, the same color palette carries throughout the space. The tables, lights, walls, artwork—even the toothpicks—have been meticulously selected. Someone cared a great deal about every detail of the space. 

That someone is the chef, and a few weeks ago, I visited Anemel to chat with him.

“I think I want to be an interior designer when I grow up,” James laughed. He had just rushed through the door from prepping chicken wings for dinner service at Houndstooth. We sat in the back dining room at a black table stretching the length of the space, surrounded by cactus wallpaper.

“I love building a restaurant from scratch,” he continued. “It's just like a recipe, you know. The drinks have to be on par with the food, which has to be on par with the ambiance.”

Looking around, you’ll notice each table has an intentional light source, be it a chandelier, disco ball, table lamp, or green industrial spotlight. “They're old lights that would shine in the back of semi-trailers,” James explained. “We found them in a warehouse and sent them to a body shop to get bondo-ed. The plastic parts we couldn't replace, so we had them 3D printed. Lighting is extremely important, you know. You want to feel sexy when it’s dark out.”

And James’ attention to detail continues through to the menu. The wall by the walk-up counter is covered in a menu with evergreen items like the Chicken Katsu Bao Taco, Nashville Hot Chicken Torta, and Totchos. To the left, there is a corkboard with cartoon sketches—drawn by James—of the day’s specials. Each item is worth the hour drive on its own.

“There's a lot of small stuff that people don't know that goes into it, but as an owner, you know, and you feel proud.”

So how does a chef with sensibilities like this end up here? Or perhaps, how does someone from here become a chef with these sensibilities?

James grew up in Benton Harbor and, when he was thirteen years old, started as a dishwasher at a place called Stooges. His mom was a server, and he worked there on the weekends. “I've kind of done every job in the restaurant,” he shared. “ I never went to culinary school, I just kind of grew up in it.” 

Then when he was 26, he became a father and got serious about his career. “I said, man, I need to get my shit together. Because this whole going out with the buddies after work, like, I can't be a pirate anymore.”

So he found the best restaurant town, got a job there, and started poring over cookbooks. His dedication paid off when, within a few years, he was promoted to sous chef. “I was finally able to just cook my own food.”

For a long time, he cooked classic French cuisine, learning the mother sauces and classic techniques. “You have to learn the rules before you can break them.” In 2019, he and Cheyanne opened Houndstooth, and in 2022, he opened Anemel with his wife Gabby.

James is a creative, ambitious, and extremely driven person, and through his career, has learned that to be the best, you have to be surrounded by the best. But in a small town, the ceiling of ambition and innovation—in any profession—can be low.

“Once I got serious about food, I wanted to be in Chicago,” he shared. “I just wanted to know that I could be at that level.” 

But his family—his life—was here. So, instead of moving, he staged at some of the best restaurants in Chicago. “I did all the Michelin stages,” he said. “I got really into The Bear stuff.”

He worked at places like Boka, Elske, and Blackbird, absorbing the finer sensibilities of dining—the food, the ambiance, how to structure a restaurant—that you can only really learn from being in the city.

“Once you see that stuff it's hard to forget it. Like, you go work in the Michelin kitchen and Chef calls out, ‘I need three fish.’ And everybody says, ‘Three Fish!’ in unison. You get these goosebumps, you know, it's like it's like something that doesn't go away.”

One operational detail that James is bringing from the city is their pay structure. Everyone is paid a flat rate—from the dishwasher to the cook—and an eighteen percent service fee is added to each check that gets evenly dispersed. 

“I got on the phone with Mason from Turkey and the Wolf, and he helped me build the pay structure here.” While a service fee is becoming common in big cities, Anemel has received negative reviews from locals who don’t want to pay it. But to James, its worth it.

“In our industry it's hard to make a living, right? I want to make it known here that we're trying to spearhead something new, especially in smaller towns. The majority of my staff are in their 30s, have significant others, mortgages, and they have to pay their bills.”

Typically in small towns like this, it’s hard to hire a quality team. But between the pay structure, James’ relationships in Chicago, and his dedication to excellence, he has managed to draw some real talent.

“Our people like learning stuff. It's helping their resumes. We’re curing things and fermenting things and, you know, building their skill set. They're able to move vertically instead of laterally. I think that's the draw here, we are paying competitively, but our edge is that they're also gaining something more than money. Money's nice, obviously, you gotta pay your bills, but money doesn't give you pride. You don't sleep better at night than you would if you had something that you are passionate about.”

It’s this passion that has led James to create an exceptional restaurant in an unassuming place. Well worth the drive.

An invitation: I’m hosting a special night of Kath’s Dinner Club on April 19th at Anemel. Please RSVP here.

Photography by Jacob Titus