What's Being Missed

Just over one and a half weeks into a month of eating vegan and people are asking quite often what foods I miss most. Honestly, I don't really miss too many foods, partly because it hasn't been that long and partly because I know I can have them again in a few weeks. But that said, I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I might be missing chicken, at least a little bit. Everywhere I turn there's chicken. A new cooking show called the Spice Goddess introduced me to a dish of chicken and yogurt and spices that made me swoon just a little, and an article in a work publication today about the expansion of the delicious Portuguese chicken chain Nando's almost pushed me over the edge. Which got me to thinking about the wonderful Amish chicken I had at Cafe 128 the night before this month started (photo above). Oh, that chicken with blue cheese mashed potatoes was good. It's just a few more weeks, right?

The Weekend Vegan

My first vegan weekend wasn't as bad as I worried it would be. That's probably because I'm not a healthy vegan, but rather I take it as it comes. What I mean is that I don't mind supplementing my healthy, green vegan lifestyle with Puffcorn and vegan chocolate. Hey, life is short.

Friday night Doug and I spent a lovely evening walking to Chipotle for a little din-din. Chipotle has great vegan options, like their black beans, fajita vegetables, rice, salsas, and guacamole. A big salad was in order downed with an undrinkable, skunky Corona beer. Didn't finish that, to be honest. Then we walked to the movie theater in my neighborhood to see Cedar Rapids (funny and local!) and I enjoyed a nice bag of Sour Patch Kids (naturally and accidentally vegan!). Doug got popcorn but poisoned it with butter, or buttery topping. I'm not sure if my local theater does the real thing or not, but I don't like my popcorn with any sort of liquid topping. I'm a salty purist, so it wasn't tempting for me to cheat.

Saturday morning my parents arranged a breakfast out for the whole family, and to accommodate my vegan lifestyle, they chose the Triple Rock Social Club. Yes, the Triple Rock is known for Free Bacon Wednesdays, but they also have tons of vegan menu choices. I opted for a mush of potatoes, fake nacho cheese sauce, scrambled tofu, and toast with vegan butter. Oh, and two delightfully large vegan Screwdrivers. After that we ventured on to a couple of meat raffles. Yes, that's wrong for a vegan, but to be fair, I didn't win any meat. Doug did, and lots of it - ha! But I shan't eat it until next month. Dinner was a delicious Thai vegan curry feast from Sen Yai Sen Lek that I would love to try again because just a little while later it was all gone when I barfed my guts out against my will. Curses! A perfectly fantastic vegan meal - gone!

On Sunday I tried to eat a little, a vegan banana pancake from the Seward Cafe, but while it was absolutely delicious, my stomach wasn't ready for it. Instead I watched Doug down the vegan biscuits with mushroom gravy and vegetables. The color of the gravy, I won't lie, was a bit off-putting, a weird gray hue instead of the usual whitish with peppery flecks. Doug, who was being nice and ordered something vegan, said that it wasn't horrible. He said the gravy lacked a certain depth but he liked the hearty biscuits and the unusual inclusion of vegetables.

The rest of my first vegan weekend was uneventful because no kind of food was good. Barfing makes it much easier to eat vegan because you don't miss food of any kind. Lesson learned.

That Thing I Love Too Much

It's been awhile since I've written about one of my favorite topics, nachos. That's because generally there's not much to report. There are a lot of monumentally bad nachos stinking up this world, and I usually choose not to report on them because it's so much more fun to talk about the good ones. Too bad they're so few and far between.

Recent events have changed all that. The first was a visit to Acadia Cafe on Cedar and Riverside, kitty-corner from the 400 Bar. Acadia Cafe is definitely a college hangout, super casual and borderline dumpy without going all the way there. They host live music and boast one of the most amazing beer lists around. Last week Doug and I went there for dinner before a beer tasting event at the nearby Cedar Cultural Center. We settled on a grilled cheese with bacon and tomato and an order of the nachos, because we were eating healthy. Ha! Anyway, the chips for the nachos are fried on the premise and it shows in the final result, there's a definite homemade taste to the chips that is quite delightful. As for toppings, they were basic, but generous. Cheese, black beans, tomatoes, with a side of salsa and sour cream. They're not going to win any awards, but they're solid and deserve a chance.

The other nachos I tried recently could win an award, if there were such a contest out there. And if such a contest exists, I beg to be invited to judge. Friday night I celebrated my upcoming birthday with the Hags - my girls, my peeps. Originally I had wanted to go to Bar LaGrassa, but that is not the place you go with a big group on short notice. All of the Twin Cities wants to be there and they make early reservations, which we couldn't. So instead I chose a place where I hadn't been in years but remember enjoying, a place centrally located for all of us in downtown Minneapolis, a place where reservations wouldn't be an issue. Eli's Food & Cocktails is on the periphery downtown, at 13th & Hennepin, but has the most important thing a restaurant downtown could have - a free parking lot adjacent! Love that.

The menu at Eli's is substantial, with great appetizers and entrees and specials that include ingredients like pork belly and duck confit. The atmosphere is laid back, with Ella Fitzgerald and Ray Charles crooning in the background, and the lighting is subtle. We decided to share a few apps to get things started and, thankfully, Maria suggested a half order of nachos with chicken. The menu says they fry their chips at the restaurant but I couldn't tell. Still, these nachos may just be my new favorites in town! Just the half order was a good size, piled high with chips and cheese and spiced chicken and the requisite tomatoes and onions and salsa and sour cream on the side. There wasn't a big pile of dry chips left at the bottom, the sin committed by so many restaurants. I truly didn't want the plate of nachos to end and briefly considered ordering another plate for my dinner entree. But I came to my senses and realized I could actually return to Eli's and enjoy them again. Which I will be doing, soon.

Too Much of a Good Thing

Recently Doug had the day off from work and picked me up for lunch. It was beautiful out so, after an unsuccessful attempt to get anyone to acknowledge our presence at Sushi Tango and walking out, we found ourselves sauntering into Uptown Cafeteria & Support Group, the new and oddly named restaurant in Calhoun Square. The Cafeteria has windows that open completely, so even though you're inside it feels like you're outside, which is fantastic until some loser's car alarm goes off ten feet away for twenty minutes. Suddenly you find yourself longing for the dark, cavernous booths of a local burger joint.

Nonetheless, we were happy to be enjoying the late summer warmth and ordered, somewhat foolishly, two bleu cheese menu items - a bleu cheese salad and the bleu cheese nachos. Both came with an (over?)abundance of bleu cheese, something I never thought I could feel. Too much bleu cheese? What? But the salad was covered, absolutely covered, in bleu cheese crumbles, and sometimes more is actually too much. Perhaps if we had only ordered one or the other I'd feel differently, that might have been our mistake, but I'm pretty sure each were overkill nonetheless. The nachos were a fun twist on traditional corn tortilla/cheddar/salsa nachos, with bleu cheese sauce, crumbles, bacon and green onions atop crispy fresh homemade potato chips. The bacon was a fantastic addition, but the chips suffered from an all too common nacho issue - chips drenched in toppings while many others went without any. Still, I'd order them again with just beers and no bleu cheese salad and share them with several other people because a little goes a long way with these.

On the other hand, The Uptown Cafeteria & Support Group has something really wonderful to offer its guests - the best table sauce selection I've seen in awhile! Always at the ready no matter what you order, soy sauce and bright green jalapeno Tobasco sauce share the caddy with Sriracha sauce and a giant, shiny bottle of Mrs. Butterworth's syrup. What more could a diner need?

His Name in Lights

When I just checked my last post here on this blog and saw the date was Thursday, August 5, I breathed a sigh of relief. I'm not as far behind in posting as I believed, I thought to myself. Thursday was only a few days ago, after all. And then I thought a little bit more about it and remembered that since we celebrated my dad's 70th birthday on Friday, and his birthday is on August 13, it's actually been more than a week since I posted last. Dang. What's up with that?

Well, while we're on the topic, let me assure you that we celebrated my dad's big decade marker in style, with a cocktail at Sapor with his family and old friends from high school and then with a Twins game at the gorgeous new Target Field in downtown Minneapolis. It was hot and humid when we started out, just like it has been for the last two weeks, but within a short time of the game starting, the sun went down and everything cooled off to a perfect temperature. It couldn't have been a more perfect evening to enjoy the Twins beating the Oakland A's while shoveling Kramarczuk's Polish sausages and nachos down our gullets.

While we happily noshed on our stadium grub, we anticipated the coming of the fifth inning when our "Twins O-Gram" birthday message for my dad would appear on the jumbotron for everyone to read. And then we kept anticipating, kept anticipating, and anticipated some more as messages of all sorts were flashed up on the big screen for seemingly every person in the stadium. Finally we saw ours, excitedly pointing it out to Gordo while I took a photo of his name in lights. It was pretty neat, and the celebration continued with a fireworks show after the game for a delighted crowd. Not that the fireworks were actually meant for my dad, but he likes to think so. Happy birthday, Dad!!

Weekend in the City

By mistake, Doug got an extra Saturday off this month so we decided to make something special of it. Our first instinct was to go away somewhere for the weekend, perhaps a getaway to some tourist town outstate. After some investigation, we determined a weekend trip too expensive and decided to make a weekend of it right here in the twin towns. We decided we'd throw in one night at a hotel downtown, having my parents take care of Hakeem so we'd have no reason to stop at my place for a full twenty-four hour period. And we decided to throw in some things that we wouldn't normally do around town, pretending we were tourists in our own hometown.

First stop Friday night was dinner at Sea Change. Not a new experience for us, but a good one. We sat at the raw bar and Doug waited patiently for the sparkling wine to kick in and wipe away my busy day. He's really great about that! Doug knows the chef from his work so we chatted with him briefly and he sent out an order of delicious oysters for us. In addition, we ordered a variety of small plates - albacore, langostinos, octopus, and a main dish of fish, pork, egg and ramen in a too salty broth. For me to say that something is too salty, it has to be pretty bad. However, I still really enjoy Sea Change and know that any dish can have a bad day. It won't deter me from returning, if for no other reason than the wonderful location on the main level of the Guthrie Theater. After dinner, we took the world's longest escalator up to the Endless Bridge, the cantilever that juts out over the River Road and provides spectacular views of the Stone Arch Bridge and the Mississippi. It was a perfect Minneapolis night and we continued on outside, walking around the gorgeous lofts that line Mill City and calling it a night.

On Saturday morning we got up early to hit the Mill City Farmer's Market before the crowds got too bad. That's the secret to enjoying the experience of the whole thing, arrive during the 8:00am hour to avoid the annoying crowds that inevitably gather later in the morning. We met up with my parents and enjoyed softshell crab sandwiches, deep fried and slathered in homemade tarter sauce, from the Chef Shack, plus my absolute favorite Indian-spiced mini donuts from the same vendor. We sauntered around, buying Green Zebra tomatoes from the Amish booth where the men all wear wide-brimmed hats and I can't help but wonder if they're costumes or they really dress like that. We walked around some more and Doug introduced me to Brenda Langton, the owner of Spoonriver and the former venerable Cafe Brenda, who now also runs a crepe stand at the farmer's market that doles out both savory and sweet crepes with ingredients like homemade Nutella and cheese and fresh fruit. I love those crepes. Brenda could not have been sweeter, it's no wonder she's one of Doug's favorite customers at Coastal Seafoods.

On our way back to my place from the market, we stopped in the downtown Minneapolis main post office. This is an historical building, an Art Deco masterpiece on the river that supposedly has the longest fluorescent light fixture in the world, and I've never been inside it, at least not to my memory. The building was as beautiful as I'd heard, with long, marble-filled halls and brass cage windows where stamps are sold and parcels mailed. Doug and I marveled about the wonders of general delivery, mailing letters to people in care of the local post office without benefit of address - like in the case where someone is backpacking across the country and has nowhere to receive mail - as we scoped out the fancy post office boxes and that super long light fixture. It's fun to see something new in your hometown, right under your nose!

Once home we hopped on our bikes and headed towards the river, passing through Nicollet Island and over to the west side so that I could show Doug my favorite hidden little bridge that hides away in a little pocket just across from Boom Island. It's off the bike and walking paths, but not difficult to get to, and once there you stand on one little footbridge while looking at another, usually without other people around. In the distance across the river you can see the riverboats and the lighthouse of Boom Island and everything is very beautiful and hidden and nice. We continued on to the store Clay Squared to Infinity, a handmade tile store located in the keg house of the former Grain Belt Brewery. Just cycling around the Grain Belt Brewery is fun, but to go inside where they make the crusts for Punch Pizza and to see the amazing tiles being produced at Clay Squared is a quintessential Minneapolis experience. I purchased a number of little tiles to make a picture frame and then tried to figure out how to carry them on my bike. Once that was done, we rode on down Marshall to Psycho Suzi's, where we sat outside on the wonderful patio on a warm, sunny day and drank Caribbean beers and ate pickle dogs. Nothing makes me happier than drinking in the middle of the afternoon, because it means I have absolutely nowhere to be for at least another day! The feeling of freedom runs through my bones as a sip my cold beer and laugh happily in the sun.

We rode back to my place and spent some time deciding what to do next. We settled on trekking over to St. Paul to share a juicy lucy from The Nook on Randolph and Hamline. Despite heavy traffic to the capital city because of the crowds heading to the Red Bull Flugtag at Harriet Island and because of the closure of 94 east, Doug's knowledge of backroad routes got us there in no time. The Nook was packed, so we headed toward its sister bar, Shamrock's on West 7th. We sat right down and ordered up the Juicy Nookie, two hamburger patties squished together lovingly with American cheese in the middle, which oozes out like molten lava when you bite into it. Incredible, and worth the drive. After lunch, we gathered our things back at my place and went downtown to check into the Aloft on Washington, our destination for the night. We stayed there for a few hours, enjoying the views of Gold Medal Park and some much needed rest before continuing on with our weekend in the city.

Dinner Saturday night was across the street at Sanctuary, a French restaurant with Asian and Latin influences that I had wanted to check out for some time. We ate outside on what might have been the most perfect weather of the year, and it was divine. The food was just fine, Angus filet and striped sea bass, tuna and a cheese plate, but my pear vodka cocktail and our shared bottle of pinot noir were incredible. I don't need to go back to Sanctuary for a full meal, but I'd be happy to go for drinks or appetizers. It's a gorgeous little place with a bar that I'd love to check out sometime. After dinner we walked across Washington and down to the Guthrie, just under the cantilever, where we sat down along with half of the Twin Cities to enjoy the unbelievable Aquatennial fireworks. These are the best of the year, better than July Fourth or the state fair, and seeing them on the river is a wonderful city treat. It was especially nice, after the show was over, walking just a block to our hotel, rather than fighting traffic home.

Sunday morning we moved slowly, since we had no place to be, until we finally got moving and walked across the street to Spoonriver for brunch. We sat outside in the hot sun and ordered a screwdriver and a Bloody Mary, which we enjoyed with our eggs without hurry. After brunch we killed a little time and then went to Boom Island and boarded the Minneapolis Queen riverboat for a one and a half hour ride on the Mississippi, through the very first lock on the river and down to the new 35W bridge and back up all the way to see the progress on the new Lowry Avenue bridge. While nothing on the river trip was new, it was all from a new perspective and it was really fun doing something we wouldn't normally do in the city.

Our last destination for our weekend in the city was to have a beer on the patio at the Bedlam Theater in the Cedar-Riverside neighborhood. I really didn't know anything about the place until recently, but heard they had good views of the city skyline and would be closing in about a week to make way for a parking lot. They are located off the beaten path, right on the Cedar-Riverside stop of the light rail, in a neighborhood known mostly for its heavy Somali population. We were pretty much the only ones on the patio for a while since it was late afternoon on a Sunday, which was the perfect end to a perfect weekend. We tried new places, enjoyed some old favorites, visited both cities, and fell in love with our hometown all over again. This will not be our last weekend in the city.

Summer in the City

I've discussed my love for Sea Salt Eatery before, this is nothing new. But it can't be understated just how wonderful a summer evening in Minneapolis can be when you have fried squid, beer, music, friends and family, and a waterfall. This week Doug and I enjoyed some of the best calamari around, a Mexican seafood cocktail that was just okay, and a delicious crawfish po' boy with spicy mayo, along with a few cold ones, and then settled in the grass to listen to my coworker's band perform at the Minnehaha Falls pavilion. As the water audibly rushed over the rocky wall nearby, the Melvilles sang and kids licked ice cream cones and danced around soap bubbles floating listlessly about the crowd. It's no wonder Minnesotans go so crazy for summer – it's really short, but intensely beautiful.

Dinner and Jayhawks

The Jayhawks, one of my all-time favorite bands that just happens to hail from the Twin Cities, reunited this past weekend for three shows at First Avenue. I couldn't have been more excited to see them, until I heard that Romantica was opening for their Monday night show! Two of my favorites in one night, what could be better? I'll tell you what could be better, taking the next morning off from work to truly enjoy the fun!

To start off an evening of wonderful music, it never hurts to have wonderful food. We chose to eat tapas at Solera, only because I had a gift certificate. We both felt a little reluctant because while Solera is gorgeous, it hasn't really kept up with the times. The decor hasn't changed a bit in many years and, except for the perfect rooftop, people don't talk much about the place anymore. But they should. We chose to eat in the bar where we had four tapas and drinks and enjoyed them with the company of a good bartender who gave us a generous sample of some sherry and a fun size Kit Kat Bar. We ate my absolute favorite thing at Solera, the chorizo-stuffed dates with smoked bacon, and they were as good as ever. We also enjoyed some perfectly grilled asparagus with a thin slice of cured pork loin and a mahon cheese sauce. There was also a required pork belly small plate because pork belly is about as good as it gets, and finally a beautiful octopus ceviche dressed up in a terrine and sliced thinly to resemble stained glass. Everything went very well with my sangria, which is something I could drink every day all summer, but probably shouldn't. For dessert we shared the unbelievably delicate cinnamon-sugar churros (donut sticks) dipped in a thick hot chocolate called champurrado. Big fan here.

After dinner we headed over to First Avenue and met up with Sweet D and her friend Michelle and loved the snot out of Romantica and the Jayhawks. Romantica performed all of their usual songs that I adore, and then the Jayhawks took us back in time, singing tunes I hadn't heard in fifteen years but found I still knew all the words to. There were songs I missed that I wish they had sung, but overall I have no complaints because they performed great, unexpected covers as well as People in This Place on Every Side, the song that sucked me in to the Jayhawks in the first place so many years ago. After the show we had a final beer in the new bar owned by First Avenue just next door called the Depot Tavern, and we loved it. With a large, open garage door that provides airy patio drinking under cover, and a menu that includes Belgian fries that I'm dying to try, the place is the perfect little spot for pre- and post-show gatherings. It's the kind of place, and it was the kind of night, that really makes you appreciate all the beauty and fun that Minneapolis has to offer.

Obento-Ya

There's a little storefront gem not far from here in the University of Minnesota neighborhood that serves up some tasty Japanese vittles that you might like to try. Obento-Ya is located at the corner of 15th Avenue SE and Como, very near Van Cleve Park, and you'll be surprised when you walk into the place, nestled between some nondescript storefronts and across the street from an actual old-fashioned hardware store and a Crescent Moon pizza shop that I didn't know existed. I know about the Northeast Crescent Moon, but it looks like they may have branched out, which is neat.

Obento-Ya is small, but uses its space well to fit in a good amount of diners without feeling crowded, and I just learned they have an outdoor patio in the back as well. Their large menu showcases a number of sushi options as well as tempura, bento boxes, noodles and plenty of small plates, hot and cold. Last night there I met my new favorite food in the world, a Japanese small plate that is apparently eaten often in the streets of Tokyo after bar close. No wonder, so easy to eat and bursting with different flavors. Okonomiyaki, as prepared at Obento-Ya, is a pan-fried batter cake (I sensed lots of egg, which I loved) with ginger, cabbage, scallions, bacon and asparagus. It's like a thick, crispy-edged pancake sprinkled with dried bonito flakes (flakes of dried, smoked bonito fish), Japanese Kewpie mayonnaise and some sort of teriyaki sauce. All the tastes and textures come together and explode in the mouth in a symphony of flavor that I wouldn't mind experiencing every single day of my life. Health-wise, that may not be my best option, but happiness-wise, it is. Besides the okonomiyaki, we had the ginger pork ramen special, a large bowl of good quality ramen noodles in a spicy broth with generous bites of perfectly cooked pork and vegetables. We also shared a sushi bento box, which last night was just okay, but sometimes is very, very good. The best part, and this is weird for me to say because of my staunch anti-soup stand, was the simple miso soup starter, with tender cubes of tofu and minced scallion bobbing along the steaming surface. I'm no expert at Japanese food, but I like to think I know what tastes good, and Obento-Ya tastes good. Go try the okonomiyaki and try to deny its tremendous power over you.

Portuguese Chicken, How Do I Love Thee?

I wish I could explain my love for chicken. So many people consider it sort of a throw-away protein, bland, boring, white. But I find it exciting and mysterious and lovely. It takes on such an assortment of flavors without getting in the way of them. It accepts them in with the love of a mother and disperses them with the generosity of a Mother Theresa.

I've written before of swooning before the rotisserie chicken joints in Mexico City, but I wasn't prepared for something even better than that ever could have been. Nothing could have prepared me for this. In Chicago this weekend, Doug's friend Paul served up this magical chicken prepared with a Portuguese marinade that would have converted even the most staunch Foghorn Leghorn hater. Nobody could have resisted it. I asked Paul how he prepared it and he said it like it was all simple and stuff, that he got his organic chickens from a small farm in Michigan, butterflied them, then marinated them for two days in Portuguese spices, lemon and olive oil. Then he explained that he was going to "burn the shit out of them" on the grill. I wish I had taken an "after" photo, but my fingers were too constantly messy with Portuguese spices after the chicken cooked to take any more pictures. The chickens were cooked perfectly, with blackened skin and spices that broke off crisply into my mouth and then melted quickly, like butter in a sizzling hot pan. I couldn't have been happier the next morning when there was leftover cold chicken in the fridge to eat before hitting the road. I will never forget you, Portuguese chicken.

According to Paul's wife, Mary, this very chicken is occasionally on the menu at one of Paul's restaurants, The Publican. Even if this chicken isn't available, you'll find something else to love. Next time you're in Chicago, go.

The Rabidity of Fans

Look at this photo I took at the State Theater Friday night. See the decorative chandeliers and ornately painted walls? See the old fashioned stage? Oh, and see Anthony Bourdain? That's him in the middle of the shot, on the stage, next to the lectern. Squint your eyes really tightly and imagine a dark, tall drink of water pacing the stage, ranting about TV chefs and food and travel and maybe you can picture him, because this photo will be no help to you.

Purchasing the cheap seats for Anthony Bourdain's lecture was not a problem, there was no reason to be up close, but it was amusing how tiny this tall man looked. My friend Angie and I made a night of it, starting with delicious small plates and cocktails at Bradstreet Crafthouse and ending surrounded by Bourdain's rabid Twin Cities fan base. I am a fan of Tony Bourdain, so much so that I call him "Tony," but unlike so many others in attendance at his show Friday night, I'm okay with disagreeing with him. To be fair, Bourdain is a polarizing figure and attracts a certain type. But I couldn't help but be amused every time he launched into a new topic about a certain well-known chef like, say, Bobby Flay, and the audience broke out in unappreciative hisses (I imagine they feel Flay has sold out or is overexposed or something like that), until Tony talked about how much he likes Flay. Suddenly the rabid fans were all cheering Bobby Flay like he's the second coming of Christ. The cadence of the audience response to Bourdain's topics was fascinating, as if they waited with bated breath to be told by Master Bourdain who to like and who to hate, exhaling with relief if they guessed the proper response.

I love Anthony Bourdain. I think he's quick and funny, I think he expresses himself well, I think he's handsome. But, unlike so many folks at the State Theater Friday night, I also think for myself. I believe Tony would like it that way.

Chicago in Spring, Part Deux

Sunday in Chicago was the kind of day more days should emulate. Sunny and clear. Sleeping in, no hurry to be anywhere, walking and driving around new neighborhoods, several cocktails, and lots of Spanish. We took the opportunity to use several open hours to explore the city by car, getting to know the streets and neighborhoods and not being concerned about getting lost. Then we checked out Chicago's "Little Mexico" neighborhood, Pilsen, where we visited a Mexican grocery and bought oranges and Mexican soda. We stopped into a local tortilleria and just enjoyed translating all of the Spanish signs. Then we moved toward our late afternoon plan in Wicker Park to meet up with Paul and Mary at Paul's newest restaurant, Big Star.

We had an hour to kill so we stopped at a little bar/restaurant where we enjoyed $3 mimosas and $2 PBRs. Perfect. At one point the chef came out of the kitchen and asked us, "Do you like pork?" There's only one answer to that question, and we were rewarded for answering it correctly with his new version of pork belly sliders, crisp and tender pork belly burgers with a Sriracha sauce. Very nice. Then it was time to hit one of the hottest spots in Chicago, Big Star tacos. Paul and Mary had a table outside in the sun (much easier for the owner to get such a table on a beautiful day than for us!) and we proceeded to order a good portion of the menu, including several different tacos, guacamole, and one spectacular salad. Mary recommended the salad, which is usually difficult to get excited about, but this salad was different. It had so much life and flavor, it was one of the best salads I've ever had. I also had their version of my favorite cocktail, the Paloma, and it was quite delicious. It was fantastic to just sit out in the sun, chat, eat, drink and forget about my real life for awhile. When we were done there and one young couple had stopped Paul (like so many people do) to thank him for his previous advice that they get engaged (!), we stepped across the street for more drinks at the Violet Hour. The Violet Hour is styled like an old time speakeasy, nestled inside a building without a sign and with a door almost invisible. Only if you know where the place is could you find it. We sidled up to the dark, cool bar for expertly made cocktails, like those served here at the Bradstreet Crafthouse, with lots of pomp and circumstance. It's the sort of place I'm not cool enough to be in, but I love it nonetheless. I ordered the Violet Hour version of the Pisco Sour and loved that while they put their own spin on it, they topped it off very authentically with bitters, just like in Peru. The four of us continued to talk and drink until it was time to go and we parted ways.

As we said our good-byes and walked to the car, Doug broke into a shiver and full-on teeth chattering! He was suddenly very ill so all we could do was get him back to the hotel and wrap him in blankets while I found the closest 24-hour Walgreen's (luckily, there is a Walgreen's every three giant steps in Chicago) and a thermometer and Tylenol. With a temperature of 102.5, Doug spent the rest of the night in a delirious shiver while I looked on helplessly. Luckily, we both slept well and by morning he felt a little better. We didn't get to do all of the things we'd set out to do in the Windy City, but we got to do all of the best things. And now we have things to look forward to on a future trip, which there will no doubt be. Man, I love Chicago.

Chicago in Spring, Part Un

Spring time in Chicago is spectacular. The city is one of this country's finest, offering up beautiful parks and friendly people and fantastic restaurants. Doug and I drove there this weekend in search of all three and were not disappointed in the least.

I found a fabulous deal at the Palmer House Hilton, a gorgeously renovated hotel that showcases all that is beautiful and historic in Chicago. As luck would have it, we were able to upgrade our room for a small fee and ended up unknowingly getting a room with two bathrooms! That is probably the only reason we are still together now. Ha! Doug is friends with Paul Kahan, a well-known chef in Chicago who owns several restaurant hotspots like Avec, the Publican, Big Star Taqueria and Blackbird, President Obama's favorite Chicago restaurant. Paul was nice enough to arrange the best seats in the house for Doug and I for dinner at Avec one night and it was spectacular. We sat at the bar, not near anyone else, directly across from the chef who was plying his craft for the entire restaurant on a small six burner stove. It was fascinating to watch him do a hundred things at once and do them all well, except when he accidentally burned his arm. Ouch. The chef was really friendly and was actually a native of Minneapolis. The other Avec staffers were equally charming, never allowing our wine glasses to become empty and bringing us plate after plate of amazing food.

From English pea crostini with mint salad, roasted spring onion vinaigrette and pecorino (pictured above) that was so good it nearly changed my life, to chorizo-stuffed Medjool dates with smoked bacon and piquillo pepper-tomato sauce, to prosciutto with honeycomb, orange zest, marcona almonds and black peppercorn vinaigrette (pictured below) that despite my dislike for black pepper almost made me cry, all of these dishes and more made my heart sing and my tongue want for more. And beyond the unbelievable food was the wow factor of this beautiful restaurant. The chef-owner, Paul Kahan, who could not have been nicer when he and his lovely wife, Mary, joined us after our meal for drinks, was a judge on one of my favorite TV shows of all time, Top Chef. His executive chef, Koren, who was also at Avec that night, was also a judge on a quickfire challenge on Top Chef (I knew I recognized her when I saw her!), as well as being a finalist for a James Beard award. President Obama's White House chef, Sam Kass, was there eating, himself a former chef at Avec, and I was introduced to Blackbird chef Mike Sheerin, one of Food & Wine magazine's 2010 best new chefs. It was pretty heady stuff for a little food dork like me!

Between a wonderful meal, a handsome companion, and fascinating conversation with all sorts of people, it was a marvelous introduction to a different side of a city that I already loved, but now love just a little more.

How Not to Cook an Octopus

The guys who own the fabulous Sea Salt Eatery at Minnehaha Falls, which opens this coming week after their winter hiatus, threw their annual Ribfest party at the restaurant last night, inviting folks to enter their best ribs for all to taste and judge. Fourteen different entries were tested, along with sides and desserts, and lots of beer consumed. Money was also raised for St. Jude's Research Hospital, the Danny Thomas charity (as I think of it). But mostly, lots of beer was consumed, Surly and Fulton and Summit, and a poor octopus met a sad fate at the hands of fellows (not the Sea Salt fellows!) not in any condition to take good care of him.

I'm not a chef so I'm not dispensing cooking advice, but I would advise against drinking many beers and then throwing an unseasoned octopus on a hot grill and calling it a meal. I think this photo of the last moments of this poor guy's existence says it all.

Best. Weekend. Ever.

I scored the coveted four day weekend and took full advantage of practically every minute, filling them with friends and food and drink and fun. Just the way it should be.

Friday night included an art opening, then a stunning nighttime view from the Guthrie's famed Endless Bridge, a place I consider to be one of the most beautiful places to visit in the city and do so often, and finally dinner for the first time at Sea Change, Tim McKee's sustainable seafood restaurant inside the Guthrie along the river. While I drank cocktails with odd combinations of ingredients like Sambuca and muddled basil that somehow worked perfectly together, the chef sent out a number of small plates of his choosing. Oysters with roasted jalapeno mignonette, impossibly thin cut albacore tuna with lardo, soffrito crudo and apple cider vinegar, langostines with hot olive oil, chili and rosemary, and my favorite, a sous vide and grilled octopus with a texture that evoked beef rather than the usual octopus mouth feel. It was spectacular. There were lots of other plates and cocktails, but the details are blurry after so much of everything. Suffice it to say it was all some kind of wonderful.

Wonderful seafood continued into Saturday night when I had my gals, The Hags, over for copious amounts of seafood and drinks and music while my friend Doug prepared course after course of glorious, mostly Japanese food for all of us. The menu included oysters on the half shell with a traditional shallot mignonette, soup with Dungeness crab and crab claws, soba noodles with dipping sauce, Kobe beef with smoked sea salt, eel rolls with jewel-like red fish roe, freshly made Korean kimchi, seared tuna with a citrus/pepper/sesame crust, and lots of sashimi - salmon, yellowtail, hamachi, and albacore. I didn't think I appreciated large oysters, but that has all changed and I could have them every day with a simple mignonette and never get sick of them. The same goes for my friends, except not with the mignonette. What a great evening.

Along came Sunday and Joe Henry was singing at the Dakota Jazz Club downtown. I am no Joe Henry expert and have subsisted mostly on his earlier alt-country music, not as much his more current stuff that's closer to jazz and Tom Waits, but I loved almost everything he did last night. He told a funny story about collaborating with his sister-in-law Madonna (yes, that Madonna) on a song that they agreed to each publish their own versions of. Joe said he turned his version into a tango and she turned hers into a hit: Don't Tell Me. His version was beautiful. Just like this weekend.

Dad's Night Out

You know you have a cool dad when you find yourself enjoying a cold 24-ounce Red Stripe beer with him at the sold out Avett Brothers show at First Avenue, right after sharing polenta fries and foie gras torchon at the Bradstreet Crafthouse. Awesome.

Chicken Wing Fear

I have never prepared chicken wings. There, I said it. I've been busy, who has time? Actually, I just am so enamored of the Buffalo wings at our own downtown Minneapolis' watering hole, Runyon's, that it doesn't seem necessary to try this at home. But yesterday that all changed when I picked up my Steamy Kitchen cookbook and read the recipe for Baked Garlic Chilli Wings. Baked, huh? Ok, that was tempting. I just don't need another deep fried food in my life, I have plenty that I already love, thanks.

Job one: buy chicken wings. I didn't want to go the frozen route, so I drove over to Northeast Minneapolis' favorite butcher shop, Ready Meats, and tried to casually ask for two pounds of chicken wings after I noticed they were whole wings, not just the cute little drummettes I'm accustomed to. Once home, I immediately accessed the Internet to find out how to break down the huge chicken wing clusters in my possession. I had an idea of how to do it, but I needed a little encouragement. I found it in the form of a southern gentleman making wings in a two minute video. Thank you, kind gentleman. The whole experience was pretty easy, I just wasn't prepared for the thick folds of chicken skin webbing the drummette and the wingette, nor was I ready to find tiny little feathers. Yes, I understand the chicken once had feathers, I just didn't realize I was going to possibly eat them. Unless it's baked super crispy, I don't even like poultry skin, so this was a bit much for me. But I persevered, cut the pieces up, and threw them in a Chinese marinade for a few hours. Then I baked them up and did a quick stir fry of them in a wok filled with aromatics like garlic, green onions and ginger. Voila.

The result? Nice looking, good flavor, but I still struggle with the rubbery skin that results most of the time when you don't want to deep fry your bird. My friend Maria really liked the wings, so it was a success as far as I'm concerned, but I think I need to try again.

Bradstreet Crafthouse

When a restaurant goes above and beyond the call of duty both in service and in quality of food and beverage, it deserves to be celebrated. Today I celebrate Bradstreet Crafthouse at the Graves 601 Hotel in downtown Minneapolis, across from the Target Center. Seriously, this place blew me away.

My coworkers, Becky and Liz, and I decided that rather than exchange unnecessary Christmas gifts this year, we'd go out together for dinner and drinks. After lots of discussion, we settled on Bradstreet Crafthouse because of its intriguing cocktail menu and because none of us had been there before. The place is sophisticated and sleek, modern but not cold, with lighting that could make Ed Gein look vaguely attractive. There are three main dining areas, with large comfortable tables in the bar area, kitchen seating where you can watch the chefs prepare the food, and a lounge area that is dark and cozy with music you can listen to without shouting for conversation. We chose the lounge and settled into our low table with comfortable banquette seating and table tops especially designed to complement the cocktails. Yes, the cocktails.

Bradstreet Crafthouse is all about the mixology. That's fancy talk for slinging drinks. But the drinks slung here are at a whole other level than most people are accustomed to. Bradstreet makes eight of their own bitters, fresh squeezes their juices, and includes crazy things like elderflower liqueur and Zwack in their drinks. I don't even know what Zwack is, but it makes me feel pretty cool to be around it. When we asked a few simple questions about our cocktail choices, decisions that were tough to make due to the number of delicious-sounding concoctions, our server Jesse presented us with three brown apothecary bottles filled with bitters. He invited us to stretch out our hands and he proceeded to add a couple of drops to our palms, then instructed us to rub our hands together and smell them. The difference in scent between the three bitters was amazing, I never knew that bitters had such depth. One smelled earthy and gingery while another presented a Christmas-y spiciness. Who knew? I just thought there was one kind of bitters. Jesse taught me that my least favorite alcohol of all time, Campari, is a form of bitters. He also told us about the "ice program" at Bradstreet, the fact that they offer five different forms of ice in their drinks, including a perfect ice sphere about the size of a tennis ball that takes four minutes to create each one. I'm telling you, the entire evening was one fascinating lesson after another, presented in a fun and informative way.

The whole experience started with a liquid amuse bouche, a small cocktail that the mixologists create each day that are presented to each diner. Ours was called Merry Christmas Kermit (for the green color) and though I don't know what was in it, I could easily have downed several. After that I enjoyed two different full cocktails, the Lima Sour and the Moscow Mule. The first is a potent mixture of Pisco (Peruvian brandy), fresh lemon juice, egg white, pineapple and bitters. I drank many of these in Peru a few years back and this one really brought me back. The Moscow Mule, on the other hand, made me yearn for the tropics with its organic vodka, fresh lime juice and ginger syrup. Yum. Beyond the drinks we shared the hot, tasty, toasty house bread and a delightfully simple cheese plate. For entrees, all under $10, we shared duck confit quesadillas, beef sliders with house made ketchup, and a BLT made with crispy, melty fried pork belly, chard, tomato jam and a fried egg. Every dish was better than the last and the portions were perfectly sized to allow you to enjoy your drinks and your dinner without feeling overly full. Not large portions, but just right on, especially for the price. For larger appetites, there are plenty of options to fill you up.

All three of us have pledged to return to Bradstreet Crafthouse and to bring friends with us. I'm very excited to spread the word. Don't miss it.

Twice as Nice

Having a birthday on Thanksgiving like I did this week brings something quite delightful – twice the usual desserts! In addition to the pecan pie, pumpkin pie, pumpkin cream cheese swirl pie, and coconut bundt cake (what can I say, I have a giant family and my Cousin Megan and I love to bake!), there were two birthday cakes. One was the beloved DQ ice cream cake that the kids all happily devoured in about two seconds, and then there was the Wuollet's cake (pictured below) that shows me doing what I love, riding my bike with Hakeem. You can tell it's me because of my thin, athletic frame and flat chest. You can tell it's Hakeem because he's orange and very active. Could it be any cuter or more delicious? No, it could not. As for the pumpkin cream cheese swirl pie, this is the first time I've made it but it will now be the standard bearer for pumpkin pies in my household. It's really quite easy and it breaks up the solid mass of pumpkin custard that I actually love but some people find to be too much for them.

If you think my birthday celebration is over, think again. This morning will be the family get-together (Thanksgiving didn't count because we have to get together for that!) at Maria's Cafe for Cachapas Venezolanas with Cotija Cheese – giant Venezuelan sweet corn pancakes with a salty, powdery cheese on top plus maple syrup, and this week Brasa for dinner with my Hags. I'll never understand why people want to deny their birthdays, it doesn't get any better than this!

What To Do in Chicago

Your next trip to the Second City won't be complete if you don't visit the Billy Goat Tavern, a greasy dive made famous in the old '70s Saturday Night Live sketches where Greek cooks smoked cigarettes over a hot griddle covered in juicy cheeseburgers while yelling out "cheezborger cheezborger cheezborger!" and "no fries, cheeps!" There are a few Billy Goat Tavern locations, but the real deal resides below Michigan Avenue right across from the storied Chicago Tribune building. Famous newspapermen were known to hang out at the Billy Goat, as well as SNL alumnus Dan Aykroyd and pals. It's a kitschy little workingman's saloon and has a very Northeast vibe as well, so we were quite comfortable throwing back Billy Goat Lagers and brandy sevens.

After a particularly well-made gin martini, my dad asked me to take his photo in front of the Horny Goat talk bubble meant for a stuffed goat's head affixed to the wall there. Now you know what to do the next time you make it to the Windy City. You're welcome.