A Battle of French Fries (Now Without Community Guideline Violations), 4 August 2024

Note: I honestly cannot tell if it was how I talked about the E 26th St & Hiawatha Bike Trail intersection or if it's how I talked about how Courtney did Kurt that got this post flagged, so, in the interest of making this available without logging in for age verification, I have [sigh] censored some of my more colorful language.

 Ono Hawaiian Plates, 23 March 2024

Sometimes you're biking home from work on your short route and you realize you just don't have it in you on one particular day to deal with that one tihsllub gnikcuskcoc unlubed-business-end-of-a-flashlight-up-your-ssa intersection, so you pull off the trail a block early and divert your route one other block over just so you don't have to deal with all the dirty and dumb looks from drivers who don't seem to understand that you have been given the right of way by the green bike shaped light.

    Which, by the way, is my favorite Nirvana outtake, "Bike-Shaped Light". You know, Steve Albini said it was his favorite Nirvana song ever. Go ahead, ask him, he'll tell y- O- Oh. Um, well, that's not going to work.

    Man, this has been a weird year, huh? Uncle Stefanio croaks, we're getting a new Lagarto De Jesus record next month, and there's a feature length documentary about the srefruS elohttuB coming out. What the fuck even is twenty twenty four? I mean, for some of you, you're probably gnitaews, gnikup, and gnimmuc over federal level politics but, man, I aint got time for that. (And before anybody confuses what I mean by that, I mean one: I'm a dirty pinko and you can misconstrue that however you want, I'm forty three fucking years old, I am too old to give a shit what you think about me - we'll come back to that - and two: It's a secret ballot, it's always been a secret ballot, it's still supposed to be a secret ballot, don't fucking worry about how I vote. If you have ever read this blog before, you probably have a good idea of how I vote, anyway.)

    Anyway, did you know that the original lyrics to "Drain You" went "I am too old to give a shit what you think about me"? It's true. Ask Cobes, he'll tell y- Oh, shit. Like thirty years ago? Did I actually forget that? Damn. That's fucked up. His wife dellik his ass thirty years ago and she never even got dragged in for questioning for it? In fact, shortly afterward, she went on to get nominated for a Golden Globe? For acting? Alongside Woody Harrelson? What?

    OK, I have forgotten much of my basic HTML skills but holy shit if I don't want to run a poll over which was the weirder year, nineteen ninety four or twenty twenty four. I mean, that's some weird shit, dude. The biggest rock star in the world gets murdered by his wife and she's just out there, to this day, free, like what the fuck? That's fucked up, man.

    ANYHOO, sometimes you have to take a detour because you're just not feeling that shitty shitty intersection and you pass by the Asian grocer and you remember, "Oh, yeah, there's that little restaurant in there we went to that one time." And then you remember that you probably, out of force of habit, took a pic of your sandwich (in this case, a burger) there so, after you get home, you look up your photo gallery on your phone and, yep! you took a picture of it and then you can't remember the name of the place so, later that week, you stop in just to see the name of that place and it's Ono Hawaiian Plates. Great, now you can look up the menu to see what this thing was and it's listed as:

Half pound Angus Beef Truffleyaki Burger with white Cheddar, sauteed Onions on a buttery Brioche Bun.  Served with Hurricane Fries

    OK, so now do you write this up for your sandwich blog that you abandoned like a year and a half ago just to get the photo off your memory card? Yeah, why the hell not?

    Now, because this was four and a half months ago and you hadn't had any reason to take notes, you have to work off of memory for what you're going to tell people about it and, well, all you can remember was that it was good. The sauteed onions gave it the right kind of sweetness and, if memory serves, the white cheddar didn't actually do anything for it. So it's kind of a sweet burger, not as sweet as Safari Express. It's enjoyable. You want to go back and get it again. The house pickle skewered through the top was the right erotic touch.

    But then, there are these hurricane fries.

    I would love to tell you how in love I was with these hurricane fries but, dude, it was four and a half months ago. I don't really remember them that clearly. I remember really liking them. I remember insisting that Kath try them. I remember wanting her to not try them so I could have them all but I was torn and wanted to share the experience and be greedy at the same time. Just go there. There are two locations. What can I tell you? Just Google Ono Hawaiian Plates.

    But you want to talk about fries? Let's talk about bulgogi kim chi fries. Particularly the ones from Mi-Sant in Roseville.

Mi-Sant, 3 February 2024

Hey! Check this shit out: I don't remember the banh mi. I remember that I liked it enough that I ate it, yeah, of course. And I remember thinking it was better than Lu's because Lu's? Fuck, man... Lu's? You know about my history with Lu's. They've gotten better in the last year but, goddamn, that steamed mock duck banh mi? With those bitter mushrooms in it? And they took the fries off the menu when they had the indisputably best fries in the Twin Cities. Man, their fires were magical. Why did they get rid of them?

    But these bulgogi kim chi fries? I remember these bulgogi kim chi fries. They're why I ate only half my banh mi, so I could eat the fries. And I still took half the fries home and finished those before I finished the banh mi. And I texted Kafe Nasty about them because he was up on his bullshit like, "Hey, guys, I just took a two and a half hour bike ride for a cup of coffee and a scone!"

    I was like, "Yeah? Well, I went with my old lady on a Dick Blick run and I got bulgogi kim chi fries. Would you like some? Psych! Because I'm finishing them right now!"

    Sometimes, Kafe Nasty just needs to be put in his place. I mean I love the guy, don't get me wrong, but sometimes his show-off side is as bright as the Bat-Signal. And there are the very few times I get to engage in the one-up-manship and feel like I actually won.

    Now, am I going to go back through six months of texts to find out where he went on the third of February just to prove to you, meine kleine Tyrannjugend, that I won? No. Of course not. Just take my word for it that he admitted that I won on that day and you will win, too, if you go to Mi-Sant and order absolutely anything from their menu and the bulgogi kim chi fries.

    This was another instance in which I wanted to share my fries, so I did, but I wanted Kath to keep her fucking hands off them because they were so good but I didn't say that because I am a normal human being. This is what's called a dilemma.

You will not go wrong with Ono and, if you live in Minneapolis without access to a car, this is going to be the place I tell you to go to. But if you can get a ride to Roseville, go to Mi-Sant. They have fucking sectional couches in the atrium. It's pimp as hell.

OK, now I have to go do something actually productive with my day.