I swore I’d always remain loyal to Minneapolis. Back when I was a new college grad, I lived in Uptown and rarely crossed the river. Now, I work in Minneapolis and live in St. Paul. I love my Twin Cities. Here are a few places where I recently enjoyed and excellent cocktail (or two) that also serve really good food:
No one in my family is Finnish but we grew up eating Finnish Oven Pancakes nearly every week.
My mom got this recipe from my Godmother, with whom she exchanged many other recipes that became family staples.
“I know why my mom made Finnish Oven Pancakes so often,” I thought as I prepared one for the second time this week. They’re easy to make, only require a few ingredients, and taste like a humble feast.
Wanderlust is real. It’s the constant longing to take a road trip. The moment you get back from one, you’re itching for the next. The desire constantly nags and all-consumes. If you can relate, you probably have wanderlust too.
This weekend, I took a miniature road trip to Mankato, Minnesota located about 1.5 hours southwest of the Twin Cities. This was not just a road trip, this was a literary quest.
The life lesson I’m taking away from my subscription to Candy Club is that you can have too much of a good thing. And by “good thing” I mean something that you like, not necessarily that’s good for you in a nutritional way. I mean, it’s candy!
Last month I received my first candy club box. The promo code I used provided double the amount of candy for the price of one box. This meant that I got to pick out six kinds instead of three. I subscribe to the month-to-month option meaning I pay more per month ($27.99 +$6.99 shipping), but can cancel any time. The other plans cost less but commit you for six or 12 months.
It’s a hella lot of money per box. I would never spend $35 on candy each month. It’s definitely a splurge (albeit a fun one) and since I referred two people I get my next two boxes for free.
Fargo is cool.
Everyone who’s been to Fargo already knows this. Everyone else doesn’t always believe me.
When I think of Fargo-Moorhead, I think of hanging out on our friends’ big front porches and drinking wine. I think of tromping down main street in a snow storm, popping in and out of bars ordering pickled eggs and Chuck Norris shots.
I think of the troll lounge at the Sons of Norway building, cheese plates with slices of cheeses fanned out as opulently as a peacock’s tail feathers at Mezzaluna (half-price at happy hour!), and knoephla soup. I think of overflowing molcajete and ridiculously cheap beer at Mango’s and buttermilk pie at Josie’s.
I think of blowing up Peking ducks with air compressors in M State culinary school and the madness that was German Sausage Chowder day in the Sanford hospital cafeteria.