Sausage Fest at Summit Brewery

It's stupid cold outside. I'm not a native so I get to overstate the obvious for the next decade or so. In the midst of such icy, wintry ridiculousness, tonight I was comforted by two beautiful things: beer and sausage.

Both of these gifts came courtesy of the TC Daily Planet-sponsored, Summit Brewery-hosted Winter Sausage Festival.  I'd never made it to the Summit epicenter before, so this was a great way to finally see the taproom pouring a couple of my favorites (Saga, Horizon Red Ale).  The crowd was wonderfully diverse, equal parts male and female, skewing perhaps a bit over the 40 year mark.  It was great to see such a wide span of ages in attendance and that healthy mix added to the happy vibe of local folks enjoying their local beer and their local meat-makers. I saw one couple that had to be in their late 70s and the wife at one point asked, "Honey, d'you want another beer?" to which her fella replied, "Sure, and I'll grab you some more of that terrine." Man. I want to be them when I grow up. I want to be going to sausage festivals eating my weight in boudin when I'm pushing 80. 

The star of the evening was the embarrasment of riches from Butcher and the Boar, Three Sons Meat Co, Modern Cafe, The Sample Room, NateDogs, Corner Table, Seward Co-op, and Kramarczuk's. 

I'm not ashamed to say I taste-tested almost all of them (so sorry, Kramarczuk's, but I know your awesomeness well and saved room for the unknown-to-me vendors in the room) and no master slouched.  

I was thrilled to see NateDogs in attendance, as I reviewed the mustard-that-shall-haunt-my-dreams in my Republic review. This time I actually had a dog plus the aforementioned heavenly mustard with the added joy of some goat cheese.  It was like a high five for my mouth, no joke. 

But my favorite discovery of the evening was at the Corner Table, a restaurant that has been on my must-go-there list for some time.  The pate in gougere, pictured above, was the winner for me.  Side note, despite a decent knowledge of French, I always confuse gougere and courgette, always. As good as I'm sure the pate would have been on zucchini, I much prefer it tucked into a gougere, that flaky, cheesy pastry that Corner Table's Nick described as the savory cousin of the profiterole. And now...a picture of me in France with a plate of profiteroles, because that's always appropriate. 

Anyway, back to the pate gougere. I'm claiming to have eaten two but I think four may be nearer the truth.  The pate was mild and flavorful, the gougere had the necessary sharp touch of cheese, and the mustard seed dollop was the perfect finishing touch. Unfortunately, the gougere really just made me want someone from Corner Table to make me some profiteroles. Minor disappointment for the evening.

And as I was driving away, I thought two things: I really need to go to Corner Table.  And I really need to go running tomorrow. 

Amen, on both counts.

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Bulldog Nordeast

I do a lot of planning when it comes to where I go out to supper.  There are always a dozen or so places I'm keen to check out when someone asks me, "where should we get dinner?" But even the lists of new and new-to-me places are tossed aside when hunger, cold weather, and last minute planning come into play.  After a beer at Fulton brewery (ahhh, Sweet Child of Vine, how I love thee), I whined to a friend that I was hungry.  Hence, the decision to head to Bulldog Northeast, an easy drive from the taproom.

I've been to the Bulldog in Uptown too many times to count.  It's walking distance from me and so, in a pinch, this is where I often end up with friends when we're feeling indecisive and just want a good burger, a good beer list, and maybe some darts. The Northeast locale is bigger, of course, and the menu tends to offer a few more unique choices than the Uptown location, Delirium-braised mussels, tuna tartare, etc. 

I opted for the black bean burger Rooster style,which involves a sriracha glaze, housemade sweet pickles, garlic aioli, on a warm, thick bun. If this wasn't the best veggie burger experience of my life, I can't recall what could have trumped it.  I could eat this every day for the next month and be totally satisfied with life.  I'm a sriracha nut, and this glaze provided just enough kick to balance the sweetness of the pickles.  Served up with the asian vinaigrette-tossed salad, I couldn't have asked for a more satisfying impromptu supper. One of my favorite humans across the table, a new favorite burger on my plate...if only every Thursday wrapped up that nicely. 

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Grand Cafe

I frequent Victor's 1959, at the corner of Grand and 38th, fairly regularly.  While I'm a big fan of establishing familiar haunts, every time I've gone to Victor's I've looked across the street a bit to Grand Cafe and reminded myself that I needed to give the place a whirl.  Lucky for me, and thanks to the Twittersphere, I caught wind of a National Pie Day celebration there this past Wednesday and managed to not only enjoy my first trip to Grand Cafe, but celebrate a holiday I wasn't aware existed.

The interior of Grand Cafe is warm and romantic.  It's a small spot, with two- and four-person tables and small booths tucked here and there beneath soft, rosy lighting.  The evening was celebratory and the center of the main room held a table prettily decorated with pies destined for plates later in the evening. A $25 prix fixe menu gave one a vegetarian or meat-embracing option (I chose the latter) and finished with a "pie flight" of three gorgeous creations from local pie baker extraordinaire Christine Hoffman.

Cozied up in a booth, glass of Malbec in hand, the restaurant was the perfect balm against the negative temps swirling around outside.  A duck canape on flaky pie crust (coupled by my exclamation that the only time I made duck I dried the crap out of that sucker to the point of being forced to gnaw it free of the bone) was a decadent way to kick things off, but the light radish and caper-adorned salad that followed balanced out the naughtiness with some fresh greens and fennel flavors. The pork tenderloin was a lovely main course but I think the highlight of that dish for me was the kumquat marmalade.  Heavens. Can I just have a vat of that, please? I'd smear that on toast. Turkey sandwiches. Frittatas. Paired with the pork and squash puree, just divine.

The piece de resistance, of course, was the pie.  I went for the lemon lime confection on the left, the salty honey, and a bourbon chocolate pecan.  But I was lucky enough to not be dining alone and my companion went with the second flight option of cranberry walnut, apple with rosemary whip, and chocolate chess.  I had the chance to sample them all and the hands down favorite for me was my salty honey.  Perfectly light, sweet, enough salt to heighten that honey flavor, and a perfect buttery crust.  As much as I loved the salty honey, however, I also couldn't stop stealing bites of the rosemary whip cream.  What a wonderful companion to apple pie! Rosemary is strong stuff, but this whip held just enough of the aromatic to balance its sweet apple companion, an I am officially committed to trying my hand at that the next time I make an apple pie.

As You Like It

As You Like It is one of my favorite Shakespeare plays.  I wouldn't say that it's his best, his most beloved, his most famous, his most inspired, but it is a play that survives the clumsiness of its storyline deftly, beautifully.  And the lines of love, sugary as they may be, speak to me as much as a 32 year old as they did at 16.  So that says something about Shakespeare, and it says something about The Acting Company, the guild that breathes life into Rosalinde and Celia and Touchstone and Orlando at the Guthrie.

As You Like It is known for giving us the famous, "all the world's a stage..."  followed by the seven ages of man. It's always fun to hear that line and watch it performed so effortlessly, drawing smiles and laughs for the artistry of the moment, and not solely for the recognition of a phrase we've uttered for generations. But there are other plum lines worth catching.  Silvius, wonderfully played by Michael McDonald, who also does a crowd-pleasing turn as Le Beau, is a goldmine for love-struck ramblings, made all the more pathetic by the object of his affection, the witchy flirt, Phoebe.

The centerpiece of the action is the star-crossed pair, torn apart by an evil uncle, kept apart by a silly, costumed lie requiring Rosalind to wander the Forest of Arden as a man. Elizabeth Stahlmann is a beautiful Rosalind, and a sweetly uncomfortable Ganymede, paired perfectly with Joseph Midyett's Orlando, who wins the heart of Rosalind before escaping to the Forest only to wander the set plastering ill-rhymed sonnets to trees. It's one of the many things I love about this play.  The lovers are somewhat ridiculous.  They aren't tragic figures for long, they're merely children wrapped up in love and circumstances that together make them quasi-moronic.  And everyone can relate to that.

The lovers stumble through their idiocy and into moments of truth and comedy, with vibrant characters by their side.  The loyal Celia, too me, has always been a bit of a throw away character.  Merely a player to set up Rosalind's escape, her traipsing through the forest, an ear to hear her love-struck moaning.  But Megan Bartle gives Celia delicious life, creating a story of her own, a physicality and flirtatiousness that I simply never gave Celia in my mind. That vibrancy made for engaging dialogue and teasing between the two women, allowing the audience to feel it was eavesdropping on a pair of gossip-prone girlfriends dissecting the love interest of the day.

The players are buffeted by a set that moves and moans with its own life, with actors donning animal heads and singing haunting, sweet melodies between scenes.  The liveliness of the Forest, almost a character itself, and the beauty of the music, created a fascinating environment in which to watch these lovers trip all over themselves, always to land, happily and finally, in each other's arms.

A beautiful show in the Dowling studio, and it plays through February 3, 2013.

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Pizza Nea

Pizza Nea has been on my "to eat" list for a good while, and a recent trip to the Guthrie provided the perfect "where should we eat beforehand" question to justify a trip.

I'm disloyal when it comes to my pizza preferences. I've loved Chicago style, St. Louis style, thick crust, thinner, typical delivery, Boboli with packaged pepperoni, homemade crusts with whatever-is-in-the-fridge...if the word "pizza" has been attached to it, I've enjoyed it in some form.  Yes, even pizza rolls.

But one of my grandest pizza memories occurred in Milan.  Visiting solo one weekend this past summer, I wandered the city without knowing a stitch of Italian and loved every second of it.  I made meals of gelato and espresso and, of course, pizza.

Pizza Nea reminded me of that Milanese experience, sitting at a rickety outdoor table a stone's throw from the Duomo.  And that is high praise for Pizza Nea.  Great Neapolitan-style crust, fresh ingredients, and a price that won't set you back.

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Third Thursday at MIA

What is not to love about Third Thursday? Art, adult beverages, interesting humans, local music? The Minneapolis Institue of the Arts really has hit on a groovy little heartbeat of Minneapolis art-and-music-and-all-things-nifty with its monthly get together.

This month saw Paper Darts, a local lit/art mag, hosting a series of Choose Your Own Adventure stories by local authors. We scavenged about, following the teenage dramatics in The Ts, traipsing from one room to another, stopping to admire creations that struck our fancy. Bowen's new "Underwater" was a particular favorite.

My comrade and I also took part in the crafty color-your-part-of-the-exquisite-corpse project. As evidenced by our offerings, we are writers, not artistes.

A great evening, a great crowd, and an awesome way to experience area creativity, literary/musical/artistic, mere minutes from my front door.

Thank you, MIA! I will definitely put all Third Thursdays on my calendar!

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Gorkha Palace

Navarattan Korma

My kid sister goes to college in Texas.  While I envy her "winter", I do not envy the complete lack of ethnic restaurant options in her town. To ad insult to injury, the punk is also a vegetarian, and you can really only eat so many baskets of chips and salsa at the umpteenth TexMex establishment before wanting to scream.  So when she's in town for the holidays, she insists on only eating at ethnic restaurants. Ethiopian, Indian, Thai...they're all on the agenda.

For that reason, Gorkha Palace seemed like the perfect spot for some sisterly bonding before she headed back to her 60-degree winter in the great state of Texas. My sister had never experience Tibetan cuisine, so I was anxious for her to try the vegetarian mo-mo.  While I do prefer the yak variety (really, how often does one get to enjoy yak?), the veggie version was great and the accompanying tomato chutney was delicious. 

I'm disappointed to find that the tea list is not online and I'm kicking myself for not writing down the tea I ordered.  Unfortunately, the need to communicate the name of the tea is not because I found it delicious, but because I thought it tasted like socks.  My sister took a sip and immediately said, "broccoli," so there's a tea at Gorkha Palace that tastes like a hybrid of socks and broccoli.  So, tea-drinkers, be wary. 

The sock tea was the only hiccup to this meal.  We both ordered vegetarian dishes so that we could share (yes, I am a super awesome big sis) and I thought my Navarattan Korma was absolutely wonderful.  We were a bit skeptical of the mention of raisins and cashews in this dish but the tiny speck of sweetness added a needed cooling factor to the spice level. I love food with a solid kick so on a scale of 1-5 I tend to order a 4/5.  The 4 level at Gorkha is pretty perfect, just enough to justify another glass of water and a few clear-the-sinuses sniffles,and coupled with a hefty piece of rosemary naan, the Navarattan was exactly what I needed on a cold January night.  I will find it hard to venture away form this dish on my next trip, honestly.  It was good enough to make me care little about Gorkha's other options.  So the rest of y'all will have to report back to break me out of my rut.

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Republic

beer flight & sausage with 3 precious dollops of mustard

I will admit now that trekking to the heart of Uptown is not my favorite thing to do on a weekend evening. The area seems a bit overrun by 21 year-olds (now I sound elderly), parking is ridiculous, and the food is always going to be pricey. If I saunter that direction, it's usually during the week or on a weekend at, say, 10 a.m., when the bulk of the young-uns are still nursing their hangovers and I can order a meal or poke around a store in peace. 

But sometimes making an exception proves worthwhile and that was certainly the case with Republic. I sat at a high top around 8 p.m. on Saturday and didn't have trouble getting a seat (as long as we're not talking about the "trouble" a 5'1 woman has in scaling a high top chair, I realize this is a problem for which I am in the minority). The beer list is great, peppered with some up-and-coming local breweries like Lift Bridge, Indeed, and Harriet.  The $10 flight was an excellent option for someone like me who is routinely conflicted by the desire to stick to a well-loved brew (Indeed's Stir Crazy Winter Ale) versus trying something new. I enjoyed my Stir Crazy plus Arrogant Bastard Ale plus, the piece de resistance, the Odell's Chocolate Stout. My meal was filling so I doubt I would have wanted dessert anyway, but that chocolate stout was a thick, beautiful, sweet-but-not-overly-so cap to my evening.  A generous portion of each meant $10 saw me happy for the meal, vs. buying two $8ish beers, so I definitely appreciate the flight option. 

The food menu was impressive, too, and on my next trip I'd like to stick to sharing a couple small plates.  My local sausages and potatoes was HUGE and could have easily and happily been shared. That being said, I did eat all of the sausages, so I suppose I'm mainly looking for a comrade that wants to live off potatoes.  The roasted potatoes were good, just a bit too salty, and when coupled with sausage/mustard, you don't need any more salt! 

This may or may not be weird, but the part of the meal that thrilled me the most was the Natedogs mustard.  Holy moly.  You know you're into something awesome when you're mentally rationing a condiment vis-a-vis how many approximate bites of sausage you have on your plate. Rachel, talking to self, "Okay, three piles of mustard, roughly 15 bites of sausage left on my plate, but one mustard dollop is significantly depleted, how far can I stretch this mustard? Do I use it on the potatoes? Do I tie it chiefly to the sausage experience?" I credit the fact that I left half the potatoes on my plate to the fact that I ran out of mustard. For the sake of my hips, it's probably good they didn't provide more of this glorious condiment. Courtesy of a quick Twitter conversation, in which I inquired as to whether this stuff is for sale, I was informed that mustard sales are on the horizon, maybe a few months down the road. If I'd been given a date for the sale, I really think I would have added that date to my calendar.

That's how serious the mustard is, y'all, it would be worthy of my inputting the date of its sale into my phone. 

Suffice it to say, Republic is definitely worth being added to the Uptown repertoire, even if it requires this 30-something to pay for parking and fight traffic with children who have to be carrying fake IDs. I'd do it for the beer.  I'd do it for the mustard. 

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The Score

I really can't say enough nice things about HUGE Theater in Uptown. For $10 on a weekend evening you get to see 3 solid improv acts, unique and engaging in their own way.  They serve good beer. And I find more than one of the regulars quite easy on the eyes. My weakness for funny, bearded men continues unabated.

Improv crushes aside, I just have to encourage EVERYONE to check out The Score.  It's a creative, hilarious, quasi-pantomime improv peopled by some of the strongest improv actors in the Cities. Acting out vignettes inspired and underscored by audience members' iPod/iPhone playlists, the show garners laughs not only for the comedic joy onstage but also because everybody guffaws when Seal's Kiss From a Rose on the Grave (what?!) booms over the speakers. Yes, somebody has that on their iPhone. Somebody you'd otherwise admire. The world is a hilarious, terrifying place.

All the shows last night were great, but The Score is such a cool idea and is performed so expertly, I had to plug it a bit.  I love this theater, and I think you should, too.

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