Within 24 hours I had consumed one of the best and worst veggie burgers of my life. It felt disorienting.
The low, a veggie burger from a speciality butcher shop, was fortunately followed by the high, ironically, also from a meat-centric place.
The Impossible Burger has taken over menus everywhere. To be honest I haven’t even tried one. Ever since I read that it “bleeds” I’ve avoided it. It’s also pricey and I’d rather just enjoy a house-made veggie burger than a meat substitute.
While I can’t say I’m a vegetarian, I’ve become more of a flexitarian. I typically eat more meatless meals than carnivorous. But, if someone offers me food, I’ll gratefully accept it either way. This means I’m seeking more veggie burgers than before.
The good veggie burgers are really, really and the bad ones are horrifically dismal. You never know what you’re gonna get when you order one.
Last weekend we had to get out of the house.
Another blizzard was predicted to land Saturday night. I laughed-cried when my phone notification dinged that the previous snow emergency was over. For, the next day, the city called another one.
We carefully maneuvered through the lumpy snow filled streets of Minneapolis and St. Paul. The city streets become so narrow with snow piles and parked cars that each block feels like a scary game of chicken.
Lake Street is an incredibly diverse street that spans the city. As a newer St. Paul-ite, I try not to refer to the Lake Street Bridge as the Marshall Avenue Bridge in the company of Minneapolis residents.
This bridge crosses the Mississippi river and takes you to either Minneapolis or St. Paul. There’s a lot of eat along the entire stretch.
We parked near Ingebretsen’s, a 97-year old Scandinavian market.
Our dining-out adventures have been casual and close-to-home, lately.
Between the snow and polar vortez cold snap, we haven’t wanted to drive very far. Never in my life have I felt -26 (and worse). Walking the 2.5 blocks to the bus was unbearable. I thought my legs were going to give out and collapse after running one block. The house cracked, but our boiler held up. Every potty break for our dog went something like that Bird Box conversation where Sandra Bullock was yelling at her kids.
“UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES ARE YOU ALLOWED TO TAKE OFF YOUR BOOTS. . . YOU HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING I SAY OR WE WILL NOT MAKE IT! DO YOU UNDERSTAND.”
We’ve gotten together with family for various occasions and visited our favorites like Stewart’s for patty melts and Himalayan on Lake Street for our typical order of garlic naan, fried okra and potatoes, chicken tikka masala and palek paneer, all spicy.
Find yourself a good bar close enough to tromp through the snow to.
Here are a couple of new things we tried in St. Paul:
- Pad Thai
These are foods that I really like but can’t cook well.
The only pancakes I can make somewhat well is Jenny’s recipe for Grandma’s Featherlight Pancakes.
Buttermilk pancakes had been on my mind all week. On Friday, I rode the early bus downtown and wearily stumbled up to my desk. I perked up upon opening the cafeteria menu and seeing the breakfast special was buttermilk pancakes.
Suddenly the day felt shorter. I perked up.
Becoming comfortable dining alone is a satisfying part of adulthood.
Our parents probably warned about the un-funness of bills, cleaning, fixing things and working. Sometimes eating ice cream for breakfast is the most satisfying part of a tough day. I’ve also found that pulling up a seat at any bar to order the food and beverage of my choice is very satisfying.
Dining alone used to terrify me. One May term in college, I spent an entire month eating alone in my dorm room. My roommates and best friends were gone and I felt too embarrassed to eat in the cafeteria. I literally ate baby carrots, oranges, ramen, and grilled cheese sandwiches all month.
If I could go back in time as current me, I would stroll into that cafeteria and and sit wherever I wanted. Of course, there’s a lot I’d tell my younger self.