The Freehouse ***3/5 stars

They said it couldn't possibly happen, but another giant hops brewing facility has sprung up, and out, down in the warehouse district. This sprawling establishment makes Fulton look like a lemonade stand (don't get me wrong, Fulton is still has its charm). Freehouse is like the Vegas of brew pubs here in town, complete with giant digitized, sparkle and fade signage.

Freehouse don't eff around.

Big enough to have your german-catholic family reunion.

We ventured upon this estab on the fine, balmy 14 degree morning of Stuporbowl, the infamous winter alleycat bike race. We needed a base for biking and drinking, two of my favorite activities combined into one! DP says the bloody here is more than acceptable. Look at that hunk of cheddar love.

Captain my captain

So this place is pretty serious about breakfast, but they know how to have fun with it. The menu has some inventive stuff, like this musli with fruity pebbles and whipped cream. Huh? (It's actually really good. You might have an erotic dream about it later...just sayin.) A word to the marketeers, who think they're pretty sly when they wrote breakfast as "breaky" on the menu. Yo, it's Brekky, not Breaky. Breaky is just, well, something that is apt to be broken, like Billy Ray Cyrus's heart (every time Miley twerks). Prolly shoulda thought a little more about that one...

Any self-respecting high-brow breakfast spot these days has to do something with lobster and charge you $16 for it. This take on "toad in a hole" made me resign my gluten-free diet for the day. The lobster was generously portioned.

Someone always has to get the standard "farmy" breakfast. This one's a pile of cheese and browns and caramelized onions.

This is the veggie hash...eggs, potato, carrot, fennel, peppers, peas. Thanks, Beth.

 Mapping the route... We came up with a conservative team name.

The parking lot here rivals Walmart. Bring your kids and a camper, stay for a month. Or be cool and ride your bike. Teens above zero is a tropical heat wave! Peace out...

Paul rockin' his new head gear. Matt and Beth pop unlocking.

Bridget's ballin' in her new goggles.

The Wienery **2/5 stars

Jeff has been telling me that the Wienery is his favorite breakfast for some time. We finally got up to it on one of those recently rare winter days in MN where the temp got above freezing...

Nestled in the colorful neighborhood of the West Bank, amongst equally aged facades and the towering retro, candy-colored crack stacks, lies the Wienery. No surprise, this is a legendary estab. Since the early 80s this joint has been slingin' dogs. But it wasn't until '99 that Pat added breakfast. People speak fondly, including Guy Fieri, but we here at Bad Eggs know better than to trust a man with frosted tips...

Ahoy! Inside is tiny and wonderfully decayed...a couple tables and a long counter with red vinyl stools. Behind the counter is a disorderly order of old books, photos, prison bracelets and hippie art. Yes, when you get out of prison, your first meal here is free. Keep that in mind.

The menu is your basic diner breakfast fare. Eggs, meat, hashbrowns. I wonder if they trademarked the Wienie McMuffin...

Jeff says you have to go here when Pat is cooking. He wasn't cooking today. We got some food, but it apparently was not Pat's caliber. Here's my extra greasy omelet...

And J's extra greasy sausage patty...

I was definitely underwhelmed by the food, but the atmosphere was so darn charming with the the classic country jams and the warm sun dancing through this stained-glass wiener. I'd give it another chance. Maybe the next time I get out of prison...

Parka **2.5/5 stars

Parka is a trendy little cafe down on east lake that I'd been hearing good things about. A concept of the Victory 44 peeps, I had to see for myself.

Very much a casual cafe atmosphere rather than a restaurant vibe...it's bright and warm in here. The cafe adjoins a tres chic fashion and home goods boutique...we'll get to that in a minute...

Order at the counter and sit style. The menu is pretty tradish, featuring simple comfort foods like oatmeal, egg sandwiches, farm breakfast, mac and cheese. Bacon wrapped dates add some flair. Don't forget the Dogwood coffee, gurrrrl.
 

Beer and wine only. Kel had this lingonberry mimosa. Sweet. Too sweet? Maybe? I drank the town last night. I needed coffee. The coffee is killa good.

Chalk drawing above our table.

Nicki likes it strong and black.

So, Kel got the Maple Grilled Cheese with pickled apple and bacon, which she enjoyed.

Nick got the eggwhich with some pubic greens. Underwhelming.

I needed some mouth to mouth from a bacon cheeseburger and bacon fries. My heart is cramping just looking at this. And it wasn't that great, honestly. That bun tasted like it came from a cheap plastic bag with polka dots. The bacon powder on the fries tasted like nothing. What a waste of my burger hall pass.

And Nicky got the Farm breakfast, which was no bueno. Soggy hashbrowns and under-cooked eggs...

But, OMG, there's an old snowmobile on the ceiling!!! Totes adorbs. I'm not even mad.

I think parka is great if you live in the neighborhood and coffee and over-priced thrift store knock-offs are your main priorities. That was harsh...Forage is pretty neat.
I leave you with the swag...

If you're jonesing for a hand-stitched iPhone case made of recycled military fabric, an indian chief blanket for your nursery or an ironic animal print with a geometric thread pattern... look no further. Forage is a fitting compliment to the quasi-pretentious, yet totes adorbs Parka cafe.

Flat furniture. So mod.

Nature. It's so...unnatural.

SUP

The Strip Club ****4.25/5 stars

Will someone please tell me why the french I am back in St. Paul again? And not just St. Paul but some weirdo abandoned neighborhood off of Mounds Bvld? Okay, I promise, though, this trip is definitely worth your while.

10am on a Saturday at the Strip Club looks like this (thanks Michelle and Matt for the early ass rezzie). A small, dark, sparsely decorated, sparsely populated dining room, yet somewhat cozy. Natural light glows from the large front windows. There's a slight eeriness about this place, like we walked into a dream, a warp in time. The walls seem wise, like they've soaked up a lot of secrets. Shhhhh...

Or maybe it's just my foggy brain from the previous night at Dangerous Man. We need drinks. Special drinks. Drinks that grow hair...like, all over your body. House-made, keg-compressed tonic and sour enhance many of these.

I started with a classic bloody. Dang, it's good. Horseradish and citrus and just the right balance of salty and sweet garnished with an awesome house-made pickle.

On the left we have a classic mimosa and on the right, the Pretty in Drink: Vodka, Galliano, lemonade, grapefruit juice, honey syrup, Easy & Oskey Apricot Bitters. Really refreshing and not as sweet as you might think.

Broad Strokes: a manhatten of sorts... this is getting serious.

So this is the place where you go to fatten up for winter and then continue to foster that extra layer for several months. Meat, meat and more meat. In fact they strongly discourage the V-word dieters from attending. No substitutions/eliminations. While Haute Dish is also known for their hearty dishes, the Strip Club has a certain finesse that makes their plates seem less dangerous. Watch out.

This is the Morning After Shrimp. Yes, you can have this for breakfast. Do it.

The duck confit hash. Gorge.

This french toast should be called Holy Mother of God. Irish whisky spiked caramel sauce. That sausage needs no introduction.

The Papi's beef. Charming, no? There's brisket in there. And a fried egg. And your will to live.

The Irish. Nuf said.

A burger. Standard.

Annnnnd... Wait for it... the Logger's Tower. Yep. Triple stacked layer of fried egg, ham and cakes. Unbelievable. Off the charts. A dish for those, like I, who crave both sweet and savory at breakfast time. A dish built for two...or three. A dish that can warm the deepest, darkest place in your soul.

So, obvs, everyone was stoked on their food and drinks. The service was great. Only reason this place loses points is cuz it's in the middle of freakin' nowhere. Do not fear. Go to there.

Mirror, mirror, how many miles do I have to run to burn off this meal?

Love the hand-painted glass.