Despite my gimp leg, I have been able to get out and about. This week found me in the North Loop area of Minneapolis, otherwise known as the Warehouse District. For Twin Cities foodies, this is where it's at these days. Yummy-ness abounds.
First stop was Bar La Grassa for some birthday celebrating with the lovely Alison and Anne. Opening up in the Fall of 2009, I've heard nothing but good things about the Isaac Becker and Josh Thoma restaurant. The fare is sophisticated Italian with a unique flair. Delicious bruschetta and fresh pastas highlight the menu.
The space is dark wood, low lights with high, open ceilings. Elegant yet incredibly comfortable, La Grassa boasts an interesting scene of urban after work happy hour goers and the older suburban set. At one point, we swore we saw David Hasselhoff lingering by the hostess stand. Later, it seemed Father Time was hanging at the bar drinking a gin martini. John Forsythe anyone? Yep, he was there too. Ok, not really.
Come hungry and, better yet, come early. If you don't have reservations, you will definitely be hard pressed to nab a table after 6pm. My friends and I enjoyed a number of taste treats. The seared sea scallops were a great way to start our meal, but my favorite thing, by far, was the soft egg and lobster bruschetta. Oh my. This would make a killer breakfast. La Grassa, you had me at goat cheese and white truffle oil.
Today, Mr. Oz and I returned to the area and had lunch at another North Loop spot just a door down from La Grassa -- Be'wiched Deli. I would recommend.
The Be'wiched folks give the same attention to the choice of ingredients and flavor compliments as you would find in any high end, gourmet restaurant. They take the sandwich to a whole new level. Fresh. Spicy. Chewy. Move over Tom Colichio, Witchcraft has some competition.
For Mr. Oz it was all about the pastrami. I tried the roast beef, havarti, onion jam and creamy horseradish on a ciabatta. Next time I'm going to have to try the egg salad which, apparently, is to die for.
So, that's my restaurant 411 y'all. Enjoy!!
Been watching the winter Olympics this week and am amazed by the displays of athleticism and skill. My favorite sports, thus far, have to be alpine skiing and figure skating. My fear of high speeds and being out of control kick in and I break out into cold sweats whenever I watch those zooming skiers or the high flying snow boarders.
Some of the events, well, I just don't get 'em. The first is ice dancing. Artistic? Yes. Drama-filled? No doubt. Cool costumes? Ah ha. But, overall it seems to be more ballet than sport. And then there is the whole skeleton and luge deal. A dude DIED on a practice run. At what point does a person decide they want to go head first, 90 miles an hour, down a curved frozen track? How does someone get into this? Can you imagine the parental response to a small child's request to start practicing skeleton? No thanks.
"Mommy, I want to do the skeleton."
"What is that?"
"Well, I dress up in spandex and a helmet. Then I lay on a sled and fly head first down a track of sheer ice at almost 100 mph with little or no control over my own body."
"Hells to the No!"
Wouldn't it be cool if they just took the summer Olympic sports and turned them into winter Olympics sports? Swimming and diving outdoors in the cold? Gymnasts competing on a frozen balance beam and parallel bars? Javelin throw with ice spears? What about beach volleyball? Now, that would be something worth watching.
Go USA!
My oh my does time fly when your bones are mineralizing. Only 1 more week left wearing Das Boot, otherwise known as my air cast. I call it Das Boot because, well, whomever invented it must be a Nazi. And, while I recognize the helpful nature of its immobilizing properties, one cannot deny this molded plastic, foam and velcro'ed apparatus is truly an implement of torture. It really is. But, alas, soon we will part ways and I will not shed a single tear.
Last night I was wondering how it will feel to finally be walking on my two feet again without the assistance of my boot. Will I be able to put weight on my foot? Will my ankle swell up? Will it hurt? Will I need to use my crutches again? Right now I am all 'wait and see,' but am a tad nervous. Upon my doctor's advice, I've started to do some easy stretches. Flexing and pointing my foot and attempting to rotate my ankle has not been easy. The muscles are incredibly stiff. Luckily, I have my new found friends in the Facebook 'Broken Ankle' group to help me through. Apparently, there is a Facebook group for everything including bone fractures.
On a somewhat related note . . . . I'm contemplating starting my own Facebook group for people who really dislike their neighbors and would prefer to rant in a passive aggressive manner to their spouse and blog readers versus actually confronting the situation head on and doing something about it. Might need to work on the group name, but you get the gist of it, no? You see, I have a WTN situation otherwise known as the curious case of the white trash neighbors. They are a younger couple -- maybe late 20's -- who moved into our townhome complex about 4 months ago. At first, everything seemed great. They were nice enough -- waved hello when coming and going, smiled on occasion, did not wield pitchforks or axes, etc. They have a dog so there were a few moments when we would make casual chit chat while passing each other as we took our dogs out for a walk. No issues. Everything was fine.
Then winter hit and my annoyance level grew. First it was the dog situation. For some reason, the WTNs (aka white trash neighbors) like to stake their dog out in the front yard for stretches of time rather than take her for a walk or stand out there with her while she does her business. Now, I will admit that I've used a stake and lead with Ozy a few times in the summer months when it was really nice out and he was just dying to hang in the sunshine. But in the sub-zero dead of winter with snow piled a mile high? No way. I'd drive by and see this poor dog sitting outside shivering. Sad. It kinda reminds me of the old junkyard dog who's plight in life is to stand guard over trash. To compound this troubling scene, the WTNs don't clean up after said dog. Instead, poop piles dot the landscape of their front yard, which just happens to be connected to my front yard. It is disgusting. Seriously, poop clumps are everywhere. And, in case you wanted to get the full visual of junkyard, the WTN dude drives this old, rusted out white pick-up which is always sitting in their driveway. Now, far be it from me to criticize someone's choice in automobiles. Of course, not everyone can drive a nice car. I get it. BUT, this thing is about 2 seconds away from the junk heap. He fires it up in the morning and the rust bucket practically backfires. Can you say car up on blocks? Can you say eye sore? Yep it is.
So, you get the drift. Am I being too harsh and critical? Should I just live and let live? They make their choices and I make mine, right? Just as I was beginning to feel a little mean, the other night Mr. Oz and I were hanging out just watching a movie in the comfort of our living room when we hear this booming bass pumping. Heavy metal music blaring and literally vibrating the walls. The WTNs must have been having a party. I can appreciate wanting to let loose on the weekend, but the decibles were outta this world annoying. Ugh.
So, I ask you, dear blog readers, what is to be done? Do we suffer in silence and continue to pour out anger on the interwebs? Should we reach out to the townhome association and file a complaint regarding the dog turd situation and, perhaps, the noise if it continues to be a pattern? Do we just look for an opportunity to talk directly to the neighbors (and by "we" I mean Mr. Oz)? Or, better yet, maybe we should just pull up stakes and move?
Help, I need advice.
Despite my gimp leg, I have been able to get out and about. This week found me in the North Loop area of Minneapolis, otherwise known as the Warehouse District. For Twin Cities foodies, this is where it's at these days. Yummy-ness abounds.
