Monte Carlo

Monte Carlo is a new find for me, despite the fact that it has been nestled into the Minneapolis dining establishment since the first years of the 20th century.  I'm about 100 years late to the game, clearly, but better late than never. 

I ended up tucked into a cozy booth for a business lunch this week and was enamored not only by my poached salmon (perfect) but by the throwback gentility of the place.  A colleague informed me that the waitstaff do not offer straws to the gentlemen, only to the womenfolk.  And small cards beside the glass of silverware request that patrons turn off their cell phone ringers and, if forced to take a call, use the restaurant's phone booth (!) for said disruption. A restaurant reminding its patrons about basic etiquette? I loved it, though the necessity for such reminders is, perhaps, a bit disconcerting.

My simple, delicious poached salmon (this was a business lunch so I didn't feel comfortable taking my traditional photo of my meal) with green beans and potatoes and a flavorful onion-y salsa kept me happy and left me satisfied.  But, I must admit, my colleagues' meatloaf sandwich gave me enough food envy to inspire a second trip, sooner rather than later, I hope.

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