Wednesday, November 30, 2016

Jefe ***3/5 stars

Well, Turkey Day has come and gone, but let's not forget about Halloween, people. My procrastination is fueling your foggy memory of October. If you're a mild-mannered, passive-aggressive Minnesotan with christian guilt, your excuse to get freaky only comes around once a year (twice if you count 'merica's birthday.) And we try to stretch out the freak as long as possible...so why not start with brunch?! A wise person once said, you can't drink all day if you don't start in the morning. So, let's get crackin'...


Jefe is a relatively new joint positioned discretely on the south-east end of the ever-so-quaint St. Anthony Main. Graced with towering ceilings and a spacious floor plan, we thought it the perfect locale to host a massive costume brunch.


Jefe's interior is wicked cool. They have a sick patio, and a v. spicy statue of some day-of-the-dead bad hombre. The exposed brick, wooden beams and low lighting really enhance the old-world Mexico theme.

Understandably, a 20-person reservation can be hard to handle. As we watched the weirdos filter through the door, settle down and tuck into their first round of brunch cocktails, I knew this was going to be at least a 3-hour affair, and I was hoping the staff was up for it.

I'm getting all of it,
but the dinosaur in pink long underwear...

Banana Hammock, of course
Strange lovers on their anniversary.
Tee-hee.

It might be, that I've died, risen from the dead and ended up at brunch. I must've done something right... As you may have guessed, Jefe declares themselves an "Urban Hacienda" serving upscale Mexican street foods, a personal fave. The brunch menu reads accordingly, featuring tostadas, chilaquiles, guacamole, corn pancakes, plantains... And the American breakfast for all the v. boring locals who can't handle the spice.



 WARNING: THE BLOODY IS BAD. DON'T ORDER THE BLOODY.

Looks bueno, tastes no bueno.

So the wait staff split our table in half and tag-teamed the service. The irony of this, was that one dude was really great and attentive and the other dude forgot to drink her coffee that morning, or coke, or whatever she needed to be alive... Unfortunately, I was stuck on the unlucky side of the table along with Persephone and her Satyr mate, a shark, a hot dog and half of the Beetlejuice cast. I do cite first world problems here, as we did eventually get everything we needed... And it was pretty dece.

Really good, really over-priced guac.

Nicki swears the Classic is a brunch barometer.
If so, this one is dipping into bad weather territory.

Chliaquiles Verde

Breakfast Tostada


Chorizo Eggs Benedict
Them plantains, tho.

Corn Mango Pancakes

Simple Jefe Breakfast, my personal favorite.

Chilaquiles Rojo

After several hours and a bazillion photo ops, our bills arrived. We had some sorting to do, and luckily we're a peacful mob. We were happy to reassess the misappropriations. I do think the food was over-priced, and the service was sketchy, but we enjoyed our opening Halloween ceremonies here at Jefe...and I have to give points to the staff for putting up with our crew. For the record, other estabs have handled us like pros (nod to Eat Street Social). We might be back to see how a normal scenerio would conclude. Hasta.

One of these is the REAL Mr. Fox

Winning

Freaky Sailors

Party Monsters and Pancho Villa



Thursday, October 20, 2016

Studio 2 ***3.5/5 stars


I've ridden by Studio 2 Cafe on 46th and Bryant many times, still groggy enough in the early stages of my morning commute that I'd never deduced exactly what was going on here. This place has been many things in recent years: a bar, a restaurant, a software development firm... I just assumed it was still having an identity crisis, and I avoid people and places that don't really know who they are...


Finally, out of desperation for a new review, I decided to take one of the last Sunday mornings of our beautiful short summer to conduct an investigation. Okay, so open air cafes are the shit, especially when you're trying to hold on to the fading season. Who doesn't want to feel like they're outside when they're inside and vice versa...


I really love the setup here. It's an order-at-the-counter deal with ample seating, and they give you old, shitty 45s for your table markers. 


You may have guessed, and it is true, that the coffee/espresso here is stellar. They also have beer and wine stuffs, some fancy mimosa concoctions, but unfortunately it's sober October, and I cannot report on their tastiness. I can report that I miss drinking like I miss a long lost lover.


This is a simple, but tasty breakfast sandwich with cheddar, egg, bacon, and garlic aioli. Kel added tomato. Good on her.


Nick got the veggie frittata with a side of bacon (to balance out the veggie) and some grapes (to balance out the bacon, of course.)


Somehow it took much longer for me to get my frittata...I guess the salad was giving them a hard time. I'm not even mad.


In the midst of a sugar hiatus, this toast with homemade jam makes me believe in some kind of god.


One last shot from street. It's cold now, but get over to Studio 2 and cozy up inside with your half-written business plan screen play memoir. This year it's all gonna finally happen. I believe in you. Namaste.


Friday, August 12, 2016

Hi-Lo Diner ****4/5 stars


Hello, Hi-Lo. You're the glorious, neon-crested time machine that parked itself in the old Taco Hell lot on East Lake Street. RIP? Your mash-up of retro and modern is quite magical. All the charm of a classic diner with some modern upgrades, like booze and your crazy ass Hi-Tops, which we'll get to in a second... The future looks bright.


I'm joined this morning by some esteemed brunchers...a little beat down from F-off Friday*, but here none-the-less. Luckily one of us was clean enough to go to yoga, so we could try her Bloody. It was decent, but not great. Fortunately, I greet baby beers with the same affection most normal people greet babies. Extra effin' cuteness points all around:

Heather from @presencehealingarts doin' some healing.

Hi-Lo is also known for their adult-child cocktails. I dunno about you, but I'm over this whole complicated drink movement. Give me three ingredients, max. Orrrrr four different kinds of booze + ice cream...cuz it's morning! Screw Fruit Loops, I'm going straight to Hi-Lo for my Saturday sugar jolt. *insert gif of Beavis shaking his fists*


Let's get to the menu, shall we? We've got some classic stuff and some creative stuff. To whomever designed this menu: Stellar work, my friend.


Not enough booze on this table...

So here's some classics. Like the burrito, sans carnes. Apparently this lacked some flavor. Reasonable deduction says it was probably in the meat...


This is Zie Local Yokel... It's an omelette. Big deal. These time-travelers do good hashbrowns, tho.


Hash Stuffed Hash. There's some corned beef in there. Onions and peppers and shit. #hollandazed


Standard cakes with house-made bourbon sizurp. Dang.


 Guess they were okay...


Now we get to the goods. These are the illustrious Hi-Tops. The sweet & savory combo that will have you crying salty-sweet tears of joy. This is the Notorious P.I.G. - Pulled pork, citrus glaze, sunny egg, black bean salsa. FML.


It gets weird. This is the Quack of Dawn. See what they did there? This baby is decorated with duck confit and cherries. Yup.


If you're like me and want all the brunch flavors in your mouth, go here. It's busy and best for parties of six and under, although they do have a back patio if you're one of those insane morning people. You might get there in time to enjoy it before the pack of irresponsible adults wearing PJs and sweating vodka rolls in...

*F-off Friday: When you decide not to go to work and do fun stuff instead.


Thursday, July 7, 2016

Grand Cafe ***3.5/5


Oh, you Grand Cafe, you. You are quite possibly the cutest freaking neighborhood joint in S. Minne. Maybe in the whole Minne. You've been a staple estab. for as long as I can remember and it's a damn shame it's taken me this long to review. But we're here now. Let's chat, shall we?


Once you scan anxiously over the sidewalk patio and realize it's slammed full, enter the gilded door of the charming Grand Cafe. The Grand is just simple, understated, authentic goodness through and through. Tin ceilings, a bit of decay and a sort of barren-yet-warm aesthetic welcomes your low-brow/high-brow fringe.



We came today because my ladies needed sustenance before some aggressive pool lounging. We were able to grab a table right away and dive into some mimosas and bellinis. (No booze, yo. Whaddya do?)



The menu is pretty classic: omelet, basic eggs, b & g, huevos, benny, pizza, french toast, pancakes. The end. Oh, and granola, but who the f eats that for weekend brunch? Oh, and salad...and hell yes we be gettin' salad for brunch.

A beautiful house salad with an amazing vinagrette.

And here's half a benny. I wish I would have gotten the whole. Portions are not huge here. And not super cheap.


The B & G. It's a chunky, smoky, red-eye gravy. If you like that, then you like this.


And the most coveted dish here: the crock. The crack. Or as the Grand calls it: Eggs en Cocoette. Poached eggs, puff pastry, ham, Gruyere, and muther effin' truffle cream. Dreams do come true.


If you've never tried the Grand, shame on you. It's worth the overpriced everything, if only to bury your face in a crock full of love. Do it for your country.

LL wants his hat back.

The back patio garden. I can't even...