A fairly amazing-sounding Better Beer Society brown bag series event at Butcher & the Boar, some revised menus at local restaurants, a local foodie’s epic Mother’s Day feast, tasting notes for Summit Pilsner and Steel Toe’s Provider, the Star Tribune’s Taste 50, and a new urban farm in Minneapolis.
by Elizabeth Millard on April 25, 2012
Natalie Champa Jennings / Heavy Table
The term “dive bar” conjures up a host of not-so-great images: tired furnishings and even more weathered patrons, sad little decorative touches from a well-meaning owner, lipstick on the glasses even though only men are at the bar.
Sure, there are plenty of places exactly like that — you can pick them out based on the lack of windows — but many of these alleged dive bars also boast plenty of charms. The most notable? Cheap, satisfying burgers.
Winnowing the possibilities down to just three dive bar burger standouts wasn’t easy. Arteries got clogged. But in the end, this trio made an impression, and not just the greasy kind.
Dean’s Tavern
Situated on Rice St. just south of Hwy. 36, this modest bar and eatery is surrounded by industrial buildings — including the compellingly named Hess Hair Milk — and the parking lot is bustling by 10am.
Like any well-worn neighborhood bar, Dean’s offers karaoke nights, loud bands, pull tabs, and prime booth space. A few years ago, the place came under new ownership, and a couple old-timers there waxed nostalgic about a grubby, darker tavern atmosphere, but they had to admit, the cleanup improved the food. Plus, there are occasional taco specials, and you can’t beat a $1 bar taco.
Unless, that is, you can offer a pretty decent burger ($7 for a basic), and Dean’s works hard to make that happen. Although the place tries to differentiate itself with hot dogs, especially its Coney dogs, the burger was surprisingly tasty, given its regulation-type shape. Anyone who’s worked a fast food line knows the dimensions of a frozen hamburger patty, with its neatly pressed edges and perfect circumference, and although Dean’s had the same look, it was far better than anything off a griller conveyor belt.
Granted, this sounds like faint praise, but when talking about affordable bar food, let’s face it, expectations get lowered. Chances are that a James Beard Award winner isn’t going to pop into Dean’s and put duck fat and truffle flecks into the burgers. Instead, what bar denizens want is a nicely prepared burger that doesn’t make them joke about hockey pucks or regret leaving their Maalox at home. So, given the somewhat moderate expectation level for bar food, Dean’s rises a few notches above that. Also, they serve their burgers in plastic baskets, and that always evokes a salt-of-the-earth feel somehow.
Dean’s Tavern, 1968 Rice St, St. Paul, MN 55113; 651.488.6868
Natalie Champa Jennings / Heavy Table
Adrian’s Bar & Grill
Another fan of plastic baskets, Adrian’s is squished between The Town Hall Tap and the Parkway Theater / Pepito’s on 48th and Chicago. It’s a sliver of a place, with just two rows of booths and a modest bar.
Natalie Champa Jennings / Heavy Table
Some Adrian’s enthusiasts believe that this is where the true jucy lucy originated, but owner Jim Pratt calls BS on that. “Nah, we just stole it from Matt’s,” he says, with a shrug. “The 5-8 Club stole it too. But I will say that we improved on it.” The addition, he says, is a second piece of cheese.
For the regular hamburger ($4.75), though, there are no spiffy additions, just a slightly greasy patty on a white bread bun, with a few chips thrown on the side like an afterthought. Add a few pickle slices, and you’ve got yourself some mighty affordable bar fare.
What makes Adrian’s burger a little unique is the aroma — there’s something just a bit meatier in it, as if the cook was grilling on his Weber out back instead of flipping them in the kitchen. Perhaps it’s the smaller space, catching the scent of the many burgers delivered at a rapid pace, or maybe it’s the VFW-meets-backyard-grillout atmosphere, but it would feel wrong to opt for a grilled cheese or even a BLT here. Go burger or go home.
Adrian’s Bar & Grill, 4812 Chicago Ave, Minneapolis, MN 55417; 612.824.4011
Natalie Champa Jennings / Heavy Table
The Rail Station Bar & Grill
The largest of the three beer-and-burger joints profiled here, The Rail Station seems like an institution — or, at least, a permanent fixture. Similar to the others, and to dive bars everywhere, the place has enough of a loyal clientele that most patrons look at the door whenever someone walks in. This can be disconcerting if you’re new, but that first-date awkward vibe doesn’t last long, fortunately.
Continue reading Dive Bar Burgers at Dean’s, Adrian’s, and The Rail Station »
Becca Dilley / Heavy Table
Step into any bakery of French or European influence, and the stimuli are plenty: colors of caramel, pistachio, apricot, and lemon; compositions of cream, curd, and crunch. Next to a sea of tantalizing contrast, the croissant recedes, destined to be perceived merely as ambiance. But at three Twin Cities bakeries, the croissant doesn’t need to vie for the customers’ attention. Chances are, it’s the reason they came.
Croissants are crafted by lamination, the technique of layering dough and butter. The process begins with a block of yeasted dough. A chilled sheet of butter is enveloped in the dough and rolled out. Next is the long and exacting dance of folding, rolling, and chilling. After the final rolling, triangles are cut and the croissants take their shape. They proof overnight, take an egg wash in the morning, and finally hit the ovens. That is, more or less, the sequence of events. If it seemed the least bit exhausting, steel yourself.
Becca Dilley / Heavy Table
It’s Monday at Patisserie 46, and the front of the house is closed. In the kitchen, however, croissants are in production, and baker Andrew Mooney is making tracks. He grabs a book of dough from the cooler and walks briskly to the other end of the kitchen. While Mooney works, pastry chef and shop owner John Kraus explains that a dough block becomes a “book” once the butter is incorporated. Mooney runs the folded book through the sheeter, a mechanical rolling pin of sorts. Each time the dough is folded into thirds and passed through the sheeter, it’s considered one turn. Too many turns, Kraus warns, and you don’t get the distinguished layers of dough, butter, dough.
Even more critical to layer preservation is temperature. In textbook lamination, the dough and butter are the same temperature. The butter is pliable enough to stay flush with the dough as it’s rolled out, but chilled enough that it doesn’t get absorbed into the dough. Butter in such a textural state is said to be “plastic.”
Kraus grabs a day-old croissant off the rack, cuts it in half, and proudly displays the network of uniform air pockets contained within the crisp, dark crust. He knows he’s got a good thing going, but he’s hardly a croissant snob. “I never met one I didn’t like,” he admits.
Kate NG Sommers / Heavy Table
Across city lines, Margo Bredeson takes a break from the helm of her namesake, Patisserie Margo. She talks about patience. “Croissants need to rise the right amount of time; you can’t hurry them.” She elaborates: Bake them too soon, and you’ve only allowed the outer layers to rise; the center is still dense. When the croissants enter the oven, the outside will rise quickly, leaving the inner layers behind. That’s when you get a croissant with a big gap in the middle. As Bredeson explains this, her gestures get bigger, her voice impassioned. She’s love struck, digressing into reverence for the layers and leavening properties of butter. She stops short, having rendered herself almost speechless. “It’s just… wonderfulness,” she concludes.
Kate NG Sommers / Heavy Table
The last stop is Rustica, where head baker Tammy Hoyt introduces the pre-ferment. She’s the first to bring it up, and it’s evident why. Artisan bread is Rustica’s raison d’être, and pre-fermentation is essential in developing complex flavors. For the croissants, Hoyt uses a sponge pre-ferment. It’s a portion of the recipe’s flour, water, and yeast that’s mixed a day in advance, so the yeast can get a head start converting the carbohydrates into flavorful byproducts. According to Hoyt, the resulting croissant is more tangy and buttery, with a more pronounced wheat flavor.
She decides that she could tolerate a lower-quality butter, as long as the dough is pre-fermented. “I can always tell when it isn’t,” she says. “The taste falls a little flat.” (Note: Kraus also uses a pre-ferment; Bredeson does not, relying instead on a long, slow fermentation.)
These three bakers were consulted only after a single-judge vetting placed their croissants above all others. Any croissant from any one of these bakeries receives this writer’s stamp of approval. However, suggestions are in order:
Becca Dilley / Heavy Table
The almond croissant at Patisserie 46
The first bite reveals a remarkable crunch. Crepe-paper-thin layers of crust are sealed tight, hardened like a cast. The crumb inside is moist and mingled with almond cream. The secret: It’s a day-old plain croissant, sliced and resurrected with orange blossom water. A thin layer of almond cream (browned almonds, powdered sugar, butter, and rum) goes in the middle, and a coating on top holds the slivered almonds secure as the pastry weathers the oven a second time. Out of the heat, it’s one light dusting of powdered sugar away from being the flashiest croissant in the building, and the best-selling. Continue reading Twin Cities Croissants (and Their Keepers) »
Katie Cannon / Heavy Table
Bibimbap is the comfort food you never knew you were missing. It’s starchy, it’s ample, and it’s full of possibilities. It is, essentially, Korean cooks’ go-to way of doing lunch — a big bowl of steamed rice topped with beef and a color wheel of cooked and pickled vegetables that surround an egg sunny-side-up.
Everything about it sounds ordinary, like the dregs of the refrigerator piled in a bowl. But Korean cooks are really masters of variety and proponents of a thousand original bites. Take a typical meal at any Korean restaurant in town and you’ll see a cast of little side dishes, called banchan, accompany every entree, presenting you with numerous ways to make every spoonful of rice different from the last.
Banchan usually involves fermented vegetables, known as kimchi, and other highly seasoned vegetables called namul, which can include piles of glassy bean sprouts, sweet threads of daikon, spicy pickled cucumbers, and slices of marinated bean curd, potatoes, or fish cakes. These bits of confetti, along with koch’ujang, an essential red pepper sauce, are what make bibimbap a creative experience.
Katie Cannon / Heavy Table
Good, fresh-tasting bibimbap can be had at one of Minneapolis’s newest Korean restaurants; Tofu House in Stadium Village has been open for about a year and a half, at the hands of a lovely husband-and-wife team. Students stream in and out and the kitchen sparkles. You can count on their bibimbap ($8) to come with enough fresh slivers of carrots, sweet beef, and the usual suspects of banchan to satisfy an afternoon craving. But a bibimbap at Tofu House (307 SE Oak St, Minneapolis, MN 55414; 612.331.1112) is really a bibimbap wasted, for the real magic occurs when this dish is served in a hot stone bowl.
According to Korean cookbook author Hi Soo Shin Hepinstall, this style of bibimbap originated in the city of Chonju. The stone bowl is called tolsot and is seasoned by boiling it in salted water and rubbing it down with oil. A tolsot lends its inhabitants the same flash of greatness that a cast iron pan can give to a blackened cheese sandwich.
When your sizzling stone bowl arrives, it’s a good idea to avoid hugging that hot bowl right to your chest, even though you’re glad to see it. Squirt a healthy zigzag of the sweet and spicy red pepper sauce across the top of the rice mountain, break the egg yolk, give the mess a stir, and then sit tight for few minutes so the rice along the bottom has time to develop a chewy, brown crust. Texture, texture, texture, and adjustable levels of spice, sweet, tang, and nuttiness are all at your fingertips. And while Tofu House does not offer bibimbap in this way, plenty of other restaurants do.
Katie Cannon / Heavy Table
King’s Korean Restaurant in Fridley | “Dolsot Bibimbap” ($14)
Truly the freshest of the bunch, King’s version of stone bowl bibimbap is light and bright. Raw slices of carrot, greens, zucchini, and tiny bits of beef ring a single, raw egg yolk. Each grain of rice floats separate from its neighbor, but is generally bland and requires a good dance with the other elements to pick up other flavors. In King’s case, the red pepper sauce is crucial to the achieving savoriness throughout the dish. And at almost 14 bucks a bowl, King’s bibimbap has a couple of worthy contenders.
King’s Korean Restaurant, 1051 E Moore Lake Rd, Fridley, MN 55432; 763.571.7256
Korea Restaurant in Minneapolis | “Dol Sok Bibim Bop” ($10)
A good deal is Korea, the busy, no-frills joint that’s just down the street from Tofu House, and also triples as a salon and karaoke destination.
Korea’s bibimbap is tasty and classic, but perhaps lacks the precision of other versions, with less attention paid to the quality and appearance of the banchan. Shreds of dressed romaine lettuce with little crunch and a small bowl of tepid broth finish off the list of banchan without adding any extra zing. Nevertheless, Korea’s bibimbap is a hot, affordable option if you’re on the University campus and want to eat fast.
Korea Restaurant (no website), 221 Oak St SE, Minneapolis, MN 55414; 612.746.0559
Dong Yang Oriental Food in Columbia Heights | “Stone Bowl Rice” ($10)
Perhaps the quietest, most reliable deal is the stone bowl rice found tucked at the back of Dong Yang’s Asian market, where they also sell commercial and homemade incarnations of red pepper sauce. Dong Yang’s bibimbap includes the welcome addition of seaweed in the garnish, and a decent variety of banchan. Marinated bean curd, sweet and spicy cucumbers, eggplant, sweet strings of daikon, and a dish of classic kimchi round everything out. The rice itself is extremely moist, almost wet, which is simultaneously mushy and conducive to a super caramelized rice-y crust.
Dong Yang Oriental Food (no website), 735 45th Ave NE, Minneapolis, MN 55421; 763.571.2009
Mirror of Korea in St. Paul | “Dol Sot Bi Bim Bob” ($12)
Mirror of Korea’s mountainous rice bowl has a depth of flavor not quite matched by the others. It’s true that the vegetables don’t have the straight-from-the-crisper lightness of King’s version, but the sweet, juicy flavor of beef is more prominent and more generous, and the rice itself has a hearty, sticky quality and a faint perfume. Topped with the well-seasoned vegetables, the bowl begins with a bunch of flavor even before you add a drop of red pepper sauce.
The variety of side dishes is large, including cucumbers, daikon two ways, potatoes, bean sprouts, kimchi, bean curd, and fish cakes. Each of these bits has a specific character, from sweet and fresh to pungent and vinegary to funky and fatty. In fact, fat seems to play a more important role in Mirror’s stone bowl bibimbap, which makes everything taste better, after all.
Mirror of Korea, 761 Snelling Ave N, St. Paul, MN 55104; 651.647.9004
Shaun Liboon / Silver City Photography / Heavy Table
In the ebb and flow of food trends, some things are worth letting fade away (sriracha aioli, “kobe” burgers, fancy banh mi) and some things are worth holding on to for dear life. Reasons to hang on may be as simple as “this is really good” or as significant as “this makes life…better.” Ramen in the MSP, real ramen made from scratch, is of the latter disposition. While some may argue about the authenticity of the current ramen offerings in the MSP, to debate this point is to miss The Point entirely. In these times, a thoughtfully made bowl of ramen is always a good thing.
While the parameters for what makes a good bowl of ramen are largely a matter of opinion, there are rules. The foundation of a good bowl of ramen is a stock that is made from scratch: This means bones, aromatics (like onions and leeks), and sometimes an accent component like mushrooms, miso, katsuobushi (a resin-like seasoning made from bonito that has been smoked, fermented, and dried), and seaweed. Noodles are an equally important component of the ramen experience.
Whether they start out as fresh or dried, a good noodle will properly absorb a hot ramen stock without turning to mush too soon. Something special happens when you slurp noodles, as you should, from a bowl of hot stock: While tasting a spoonful can give you the big picture of a particular stock’s character, the act of slurping noodles aerates the stock, opening it up and telling you the details, like decanting wine. Ramen accoutrements often include, but are not limited to, meat, eggs, fresh and / or pickled vegetables, and nori. None of these accoutrements should be fighting for the spotlight. Rather, these should be thoughtfully chosen to complement the bowl of ramen as a whole. After all, there’s more to ramen than a perfectly cooked noodle…ahem. And so, the very best bowls of ramen are the ones that work well as a whole. A good bowl of ramen is a perfect world in a bowl.
On Mondays Obento-Ya, tucked in a commercial intersection of Minneapolis’ Como neighborhood near the U of M, sells their Ginger Pork Ramen for $10 a bowl. The Obento-Ya space is meticulously clean and seating is tight. The service is very matter-of-fact, which bodes well for those on a tight lunch schedule. The Ginger Pork Ramen is served in an oblong shaped white china bowl, a modern presentation choice that immediately eliminates any expectations one may have, if any, for a more traditional bowl of ramen.
The contents of the bowl are minimal: stock, noodles, seaweed, and pork. The serving size is a conservative portion which, considering the strength of the flavors in this bowl, isn’t necessarily a bad thing. The soup base is a salty and full-flavored pork stock that opens up to a smoky and fishy character when slurped and carried by softly chewy and pale yellow noodles. With the multitude of ramen choices happening around the MSP, this ramen is a decent meal if you’re in the area, but not worth going out of your way.
Obento-Ya, 1510 SE Como Ave, Minneapolis, MN 55414; 612.331.1432
Shaun Liboon / Silver City Photography/ Heavy Table
Just beyond the western edge of the U of M campus, at the intersection of East Hennepin Avenue and 4th Street SE, is Masu Sushi & Robata, initially shaped by Chef Tim McKee of La Belle Vie. As one would expect from the James Beard Award-winning chef, Masu’s Pork Belly Ramen ($12.50) is damn near perfect for a Western style of ramen, heavily influenced by the restaurant world’s current wonder boy David Chang of Momofuku in New York City.
Masu’s ramen is built upon a rich porky stock and carried by perfectly chewy noodles which are brought in fresh from the Los Angeles-based noodle maker Sun Noodle. As if the broth weren’t rich enough, the soup is garnished with a poached egg which, when the yolk is broken and stirred into the stock, creates an outright sublime texture and flavor. Diners who are more interested in the food than the scene should visit Masu during the lunch hour since the dinnertime crowd, clad in skinny jeans and fedoras, can be overwhelming.
Masu Sushi & Robata, 330 E Hennepin Ave, Minneapolis, MN 55414; 612.332.6278
Shaun Liboon / Silver City Photography/ Heavy Table
Where Masu’s finds its niche as an unapologetic caricature of Japanese pop culture, Zen Box Izakaya successfully operates as an honest-to-goodness Izakaya modeled after the comfortable and fail-safe bars in Japan where businessmen and locals gather after work for food and drinks. Co-owner and Chef John Ng, along with his wife and Front Of House Manager Lina Goh, serve ramen with conviction and authenticity. Zen Box’s “Tonzen” Tonkotsu Ramen ($12) is built on the foundation of a pork stock that’s painstakingly simmered for 36 hours, a labor of love that creates a creamy texture and a deeply layered pork flavor. The soup is garnished with a generous slice of Chashu pork belly that’s been marinated, rolled and butcher tied, and slow roasted until tender.
Where chefs of any culinary background will agree that a particular chef’s level of skill can be judged by his / her ability to cook an egg, Chef John Ng’s thoughtful treatment of his eggs is downright masterful. He begins by cooking a large pot of perfectly soft-boiled eggs which, in restaurant quantities, is a feat in and of itself. Once the eggs are cooled, they’re peeled and then preserved in the rendered fat and marinade from the Chashu. Tasting these soft-boiled eggs in the context of a bowl of ramen is, above all else, a hang-your-head-and-sigh-with-pleasure experience. Thanks to Zen Box’s quality of food and unassuming atmosphere, it should be of no surprise that off-duty local chefs and Japanese food enthusiasts call this place home base. Zen Box Izakaya is located on the corner of Washington Avenue and Portland Avenue in downtown Minneapolis.
Zen Box Izakaya, 602 Washington Ave S, Minneapolis, MN 55415; 612.332.3936
Katie Cannon / Heavy Table
Upon hearing about the recent influx of frozen yogurt shops popping up across the Minneapolis-St. Paul area, a colleague remarked, “Is this the 1980s all over again?” Though we have yet to see a Flock of Seagulls haircut resurface, he does have a point: The Twin Cities hasn’t seen this many fro-yo places open in quite some time. Just as cupcakes were the rage two years ago, self-serve frozen yogurt — sweet and tart, with toppings galore — is becoming ubiquitous, and The Heavy Table has the lowdown on four shops that let you swirl and scoop your perfect dish. Just be warned: Those cups are generously sized for a reason. The more you add, the more you pay.
The New Kids on the Block
Of the four recently opened frozen yogurt shops we visited, two were home-grown concepts and two were franchises. Tutti Frutti, located in Maple Grove’s Main Street at Arbor Lakes, was first of the four to open in September 2011 by franchisee Kelly Gaspar, who saw an opportunity to dish up a treat she felt was missing from the Twin Cities.
Katie Cannon / Heavy Table
“We didn’t have a lot of good yogurt, let alone self-serve yogurt, in this area,” Gaspar says. “I did a lot of research, and it came down to quality of product. I found that with Tutti Frutti.”
Another popular national chain, Menchie’s, entered the Twin Cities market in early October when manager Whitney Anderson and her family opened their Highland Park location at the corner of Cleveland and Pinehurst avenues. A University of St. Thomas alum, Anderson had spent a year scouting a storefront and found that even with an autumn opening, the locals were ready for frozen yogurt.
“Obviously, the ideal time [to open] would have been summer, but we’re in this for the long haul,” Anderson says. “We liked that Menchie’s is, at its core, family and community and giving back. It aligns well with our beliefs.”
The holidays brought a third fro-yo concept to the area: The Yogurt Lab, adjacent to the new My Burger near Lake Calhoun. According to manager Marie Tavlin, owners Aaron and Andrea Switz and Phil Becker saw the trend explode on the West Coast and saw an untapped niche here. A Dec. 18 opening, combined with a milder-than-average month, proved to be advantageous for the shop, which welcomed a flood of students and families in its first few weeks.
Katie Cannon / Heavy Table
“It was a great time with the kids back from winter break,” Tavlin says. “We’ve been doing better than we thought we would with a winter opening.”
And across the river near the St. Paul Trader Joe’s on Lexington Parkway, former restaurant and retail consultant David Brandner launched Free Style Yogurt just last weekend. Like with Yogurt Lab’s owners, he saw the frozen yogurt scene flourish in California and Texas and decided Minnesota would be the ideal location for his first fro-yo venture.
“I love the product, I love the energy in the stores, and I thought I’d really like to do this,” Brandner says. “I wanted to build a brand from the ground up and create a shop atmosphere that would be unique.”
The Heavy Table did an exhaustive, gut-busting pilgrimage to sample the frozen yogurt, discover new toppings, and feel the vibe of each shop. Overall, we found the yogurt quality and flavor selection ranging from good to excellent, but subtle differences among the shops’ offerings exist. While not a strict head-to-head comparison, below we explore the nuances of taste, decor, and cost. While you can’t really go wrong with any of the shops if you’re craving a cold treat, chances are one will fit your style more than others. Continue reading The Frozen Yogurt Resurrection »
Natalie Champa Jennings / Heavy Table
They’re patacones from Panama to Peru; Haitians call them bananes pesées, and in the Dominican Republic, they’re casually referred to as fritos. But in much of Latin America and the Caribbean, they’re known as tostones, and that’s how you’ll find them on menus across our own Twin Cities. Regardless of its varied nomenclature, the dish can be described simply and invariably as “twice-fried green plantains.”
Especially popular in Puerto Rico, Cuba, and the Dominican Republic, tostones in their most essential form are products of a mere three ingredients: plantains, oil, and salt. The plantains are sliced and fried, then flattened and fried again. Classic preparation enlists a tostonera, a plantain press that produces perfectly rounded and uniform coins. Even without such a handy tool, the process is simple, especially to someone who has been doing it a while. Tony Panelli, chef and co-owner of Caribe in St. Paul, laughed after describing the rather humdrum procedure. “It’s not really an art.”
Becca Dilley / Heavy Table
Having spent the first decade of his life in Puerto Rico, Panelli has been making and eating tostones since he was a kid. Now they’re a constant on his menu. He may be weary of the things, but he still knows what he wants in tostones: They should be thin, crispy, and made with very green plantains.
Most chefs would agree with that last part. It’s the green plantains that make tostones, tostones. The unripe fruit is strong enough to withstand the frying, smashing, and frying, and it accounts for the starchiness that defines the dish. So what do chefs do when black specks, the harbingers of ripeness, begin to appear on their plantains? Some may stop selling tostones altogether. Brasa has adopted this practice, switching over to fried sweet plantains until the next green batch comes in. Most establishments, however, must work with what they have. That means the same restaurant may serve tostones of variable sweetness and starchiness, depending on the day.
So maybe tostones aren’t as straightforward as we’d think. As chefs contend with the processes of nature, they can rely on myriad toppings and dipping sauces to create a wholly unique taste experience. Though they must be able to hold their own unadorned, tostones offer a blank canvas and potential for a masterpiece. A recent search for local tostones found three renditions born from three very different approaches.
Natalie Champa Jennings / Heavy Table
Authenticity at Your Own Risk: Victor’s 1959 Cafe
“Tostones with house mojo” ($4.75)
We felt that these failed on all counts. They looked interesting enough, the lightly golden hue of the tostones scattered with green onion and globs of the jellylike house mojo. It wasn’t pretty, but with the merits of ugly food in mind, we dove in. The mojo instantly overpowered everything in its wake. According to Victor’s, it contained onion, garlic, and lime — the makings of a genuine Cuban mojo. This sauce is characteristically acidic, sometimes made with vinegar in addition to lemon or lime juice. The Victor’s version may have been authentic Cuban, but it was much too astringent for my “yanqui” palate. Continue reading The Tostones of the Twin Cities »
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