This place changes its name more than Prince

Put another log on the fire — here’s the last installment of the Roseville Restaurant Trilogy. This time, it’s all about the restaurant formerly known as KFAN.

If you’re familiar with the Roseville area, you know that this restaurant location is cursed. It seems like every time you drive by this place, it has a new name. In only five years, this restaurant has changed ownership four times…that’s nearly once per year. It probably sets some sort of record or something.

Because of this location’s spotty tenant track record, one might think that the history of this restaurant would be a good premise for a future Stephan King novel.   Why can’t anything can stay here very long? Surely it must be haunted! Perhaps it’s built on an ancient Indian burial ground?

I wish the KFAN/Big City/WhateverTheFuckIt’sCalled’s folklore were that exciting, but it isn’t. It’s simply a shitty location for a restaurant, that’s all. There’s no creepy ghost story and no need to call Scooby Doo to the scene. If you’re really that desperate for a spooky tale, fix yourself a bowl of BooBerry cereal and grab an Ecto-Cooler HiC juice box from the fridge, and skim through a FearStreet book. Then hop back on your computer and continue reading.

Originally, this was an Italian restaurant called “Lido’s”. Can’t say I ever ate there or even remember it. I believe that Lido’s was torn down sometime in 2003 and KFAN went up in its place.

Here’s the timeline:

KFAN the Restaurant: Opened in December 2003, closed in 2005.

Big City Tavern: Opened in September 2005, closed in July 2006.

Majors: Opened in September 2006, closed sometime in 2008.

Grumpy’s: Opened in 2008 – present. How long will this last? I could probably start a death pool on this and offer up a prize to the reader who correctly guesses its closing date, but that wouldn’t be very nice now, would it?

The KFAN Restaurant logo

In case you’re not familiar with Minnesota radio, KFAN is a supposed to be a sports talk radio station, but whenever I turn them on, they’re talking about politics. I suppose even the biggest sports nut has a limit on how much Brett Favre joining the Vikings speculation they can take per day. I don’t listen to the station much, but I know that last year, one of their big-time personalities was busted for crack and promptly fired. They also have some yahoo who calls himself a common man like it’s a good thing. Then again, in today’s world of everyone thinking they’re a special snowflake, someone who calls himself a “Common Man” is a little refreshing.

KFAN 1130 AM, like most radio stations in town, is owned by media giant Clear Channel communications. In the early ’00s, Clear Channel had a bright idea to launch a chain of sports bar style restaurants, but wanted to class it up by focusing more on food quality and decor rather than nailing a bunch of faux vintage sports memorabilia to the walls like most sports joints do.

KFAN the Restaurant was their pet project and Clear Channel’s foray into the restaurant business all hinged on its success. If it was a hit, Clear Channel planned to open 12 to 18 similar radio-themed restaurants around the country, using the namesake of popular local radio stations.

Unfortunately for Clear Channel, KFAN the Restaurant wasn’t a winner.  The exact reason why KFAN closed is up for debate — a few articles alluded to restaurant management not being happy with Clear Channel’s rigid restrictions on how they ran the place. Location probably played a huge role in its failure as well. Despite it being located and easily

The entrance/exit to Grumpy's. I always wondered why they couldn't connect this road to Snelling Avenue. It'd make things a little bit easier

spotted on busy Snelling Avenue, it’s tough to figure out how to access this place. If you’re coming from North Snelling Avenue, you need to drive about a 1/2 mile past the restaurant, turn at the stoplight, and then take the service road alllll the way back, passing a strip mall, various ho-hum retail establishments, and a car dealership before turning into the cul-de-sac in which the restaurant resides. That’s just too damn much work to eat at what appears to be a generic sports bar. Meh,  it’s easier just to sing for your supper….or just say fuck this bullshit, and head over to the area closer to Rosedale.

Speaking of which, this place is located too far away from the Roseville’s hotspot — the Rosedale Mall. Plenty of eating

and entertainment options surround the mall, and it’s no surprise that shoppers are more likely to eat at Granite City, Macaroni Grill, Flame, Good Earth, and so on, rather than try to navigate their way out to Snelling Avenue and try to figure out how to access this place. But hey, it’s located next to Midway Ford, so….?

Had KFAN the Restaurant succeeded, would we now have a KDWB the Restaurant? Imagine the possibilities! Gary Spivey readings! They could host Jingle Ball/Star Party/Last Chance Summer Dance (do they still do that?) in one of the basement banquet halls here! An expansive, 3-song playlist piped over the sound system: the latest Black Eyed Peas song, a rap song with a hook featuring T-Pain, and Baby Got Back!  There could be ads on the bathroom stall doors peddling mangle mouth makeovers from Dr. Dave Hertelendy at All Care Dentistry, an ad for LASIK surgery from the good folks at North Suburban Eye Specialists, and Slim4Life ads (just the kind of propaganda you want to see when you’re taking at shit at a restaurant selling fried food).

Okay, so back to KFAN.

When you walk up to this place, the first thing you notice is the monumental, eye-catching entrance. Upon entering, you immediately feel like you’re under dressed — like you should be wearing a sports coat instead of wearing jeans and your Randall McDaniel jersey purchased in 1995.  After looking around at the high ceilings, marble tiles, grand staircases, and mood lighting, you feel a bit confused — this supposed to be SPORTS bar, right? A sports bar for a radio station that calls its listeners “Rubes”? The luxurious backdrop of this place is a bit unexpected.

As you’ve probably figured out, this wasn’t just your typical, tired suburban sports bar. Sure, they had Golden Tee, pool tables, top 40 90′s alt rock music blaring on the sound system, (I remember going here one time when it was Big City Tavern and hearing The

Grumpy's offers outdoor dining

Wallflowers’ One Headlight 3 freakin’ times!), flat screens, and a plenty of slutty girls with bad highlights and 20-something men with beer guts wearing too-tight Affliction t-shirts.

This place is just too big — three levels too big.  Only two areas are open to the dining public — the dining area and the bar area. The rest of the place includes several banquet halls and conference rooms, all of which I’ve never witnessed anyone using.  At one point, when this place was Big City Tavern, the downstairs was going to be turned into a dinner theater. That would’ve been kind of cool.

There was a gift shop near the entrance hawking KFAN sweatshirts, beer kozies, keychains, Dan Barreiro autographed photos suitable for framing, and other various overpriced, screenprinted doodads featuring the station’s call letters. Never saw anyone buy any of this shit. They also held live radio broadcasts from the restaurant a few days a week, so you could do a meet ‘n greet with your favorite KFAN personality — just like you would at the state fair.

I only ate in the dining area once. I felt like I was missing out on all of the shenanigans happening over in the bar area. The dining room was quiet and peaceful, but that’s not really what I expected when I went here. It’s nice that they didn’t shove the sports down your throat like most places do, but really…it’s a sports bar, and, well, I kind of wanted to watch THE GAME and scream obscenities at TV sets. That’s why I chose a place named after a sports station. Even though the experience was pleasant, every time I’d go here after that, my party and I forgo the dining area and belly up to the bar and shoot some pool instead.

The food wasn’t too bad, but it couldn’t have been that memorable because I don’t really have anything to say about it. It was your typical American fare–burgers, chicken sandwiches, salads, fried apps. You could even order “fancier” entrees like salmon and porterhouse steak.  Prices were okay, perhaps a bit on the expensive side. I do remember ringing up quite the tab after spending a night of aggressive drinking here. Oops.

A view of the doomed diner

Despite all of its different lifeforms, this restaurant didn’t really seem to change. You really couldn’t distinguish whether it was KFAN/Big City/Majors when you walked in or even by looking at the menu. It all pretty much seemed the same. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or what.

Today, this place is Grumpy’s, suburban-style. Seems to be quite an odd location for a Grumpy’s , so we’ll see how long this will last. I haven’t eaten here myself since it was Majors, so here’s a local blogger’s review of it as Grumpy’s, complete with food pics and snapshots pics of the inside.

Any information to add? Any memories of this place? Post in the comments!

Joe's Crab Shack is a sensory experience, to say the least

Installment #2 on Dumpy Strip Malls’ Roseville Restaurant Trilogy – the closed Joe’s Crab Shack off of Snelling Avenue.

So yep, another abandoned building/former restaurant post with complementing photo essay. These places look so sad and creepy when they’re all boarded up & lifeless like this. But, hey, I like this kind of stuff and that’s why I have this blog. I’m the weirdo pulling off the side of the road, taking pictures of run-down buildings & weedy parking lots.

The Joe’s Crab Shack chain arrived in Minnesota in 1999 with two locations — Roseville and Maple Grove. Minnesota suburbanites love their chain restaurants (me included — I don’t mind a chain restaurant, as long as it’s GOOD), but poor Joe couldn’t make it work in this town.  Maybe because of the abundance of Red Lobsters around, there wasn’t room in this town for another french-fried seafood chain? Or perhaps people just wanted to go to dinner to RELAX and EAT (what a concept!) & not have their server bully them into joining their conga line every 15 minutes? Whatever the reason might’ve been, the Roseville location closed in March 2007 and the Maple Grove location shut down in early 2008.

The beach-themed Joe's Crab Shack. No, they don't take sand dollars as a form of payment, but it would add a touch of authenticity if they did

The Roseville location is still standing in development limbo, with nearly every fixture still intact, making this former non-stop summer beach bash locale look exceptionally creepy.

The Maple Grove location is now a Broadway Pizza, which is located along the northwest area of Elm Creek Blvd. There’s been a fair amount of restaurant turnover in this particular area.  Former food eateries in this area include Green Mill, Krispy Kreme (which has been completely remodeled and is now a bank), Hops Restaurant & Brewery, and Baker’s Square (being torn to pieces to make way for a strip mall addition).

Unfortunately (…probably not the best choice of wording), I never ate at the Minnesota locations. My only experience with Joe’s Crab Shack was in 2000 in Gurnee, IL after a long day at Six Flags Great America (apparently, at the time, none of us knew that Joe’s Crab Shack had already infiltrated the Twin Cities area). I have pictures of this “event” but hell if I’m posting them. I would if it had been at one of the Minnesota locations, but it’s a Joe’s in the Chicago area, so no dice.

Unlike the lovely Fridley Crab House, this dining establishment is a chain, so location usually doesn’t matter, and most of this could apply to one of the MN locations. Whether it’s Chicago or Minnesota, you’re still in a landlocked state thousands of miles from the sea, leaving few choices for authentic and fresh-off-the-liner ocean seafood. Unless you want to fork over some big bucks for a meal at Oceanaire (which, by the way, isn’t doing so hot), places like Joe’s or Red Lobster will have to do. The people in my group thought

Joe's Crab Shack had a kiddie playground. What, is this McDonalds?

it would be way cool to eat here based solely on the building’s semblance of a weathered seaside frathouse that takes a yearly beating during hurricane season (Well, we were college kids).   With the tiki posts, the Christmas lights strung from the deck beams, and the sheer amount of ear-numbing NOISE coming from this restaurant, it seemed like a potential hotspot for some crazy drunken shit to go down! We were all for it. (Evidently, we didn’t notice the huge outdoor KIDS play pit smack dab in front of the restaurant. Quite a perceptive group!)

I’m not crazy about seafood, but I didn’t complain — it looked like a fun place to eat. If anything, I can just grub on the popcorn shrimp and get a lil’ tipsy. Hey, it’s better than getting smashed in a depressing hotel bar.

Even though the atmosphere has that “forced-fun-designed-in-a-corporate-boardroom” feel to it, they do an okay job making you feel like you’re at the beach. The beach = throngs of people smelling like dogs & dirt from getting wet and sweating all day…which is exactly what you’d find when dining at a restaurant right next to a major amusement park. It was packed wall-to-wall in here with the same people who were at the amusement park, sporting the putrid clothes they wore all day, still damp from riding the Roaring Rapids. (same thing as Valleyfair’s Thunder Canyon).  Pretty gross — but this could be said about any restaurant located near a Six Flags. I’m sure this wasn’t the case at the Minnesota locations.

We were seated at a booth that looked like a picnic table. The utensils and napkins were stored in some sort of metal bucket. I remember looking at the menu and I couldn’t find anything I wanted to eat. Everything on the menu looked like the type of food that leaves me running for the toilet. If the seafood isn’t battered, I don’t want anything to do with it. This only escalates the digestive troubles.  With enough breading and tartar sauce dollops, the fishy taste can be kept to a minimum. (That’s what she said!) .  I ended up ordering some sort of fried seafood basket for which I paid dearly.

Such a festive setting

Their specialty drinks here are more like DRANKS. High calorie, complicated, recipe-required alcoholic beverages that look like a work of art. I thought I remember them having quite an extensive drink menu, but looking at the menu online, it pales in comparison to TGIF’s selection. Maybe it varies by location? I don’t normally like spending $10 on one drink, but hey, I can live a little. I’m at JOE’S for crying out load. The waiters are wearing hula skirts and doin’ The Butt (Owww! Sexy, Sexy). I think I ordered some blue drink (just because it was blue. Damn gimmick every.freakin’.time) — pretty sure it was the Shark Bite, and I was tipsy-doodle-do after a few sips. That’s not saying much on the drink strength though. I’m a lightweight and beer battered walleye would get me feelin’ loose.   When my drink arrived, everyone in my party thought it looked wicked cool, so more Shark Bites were ordered by our crew. Gotta live every week like it’s Shark Week, I guess.

Despite this seaside shanty’s appearance of a party house for drunken beach bums, it was crawling with little kids. The outdoor playground, cheeseball decorations, and a menu made up of mostly kid-friendly seafood should’ve tipped us off, but we were pretty surprised at all the little rugrats swimming around in here. Definitely not a place for a romantic dinner.

I can’t write about Joe’s Crab Shack without mentioning the singing staff. Every 15-20 minutes, all the servers here break into a silly song and dance routine that no one pays attention to, except the kids. It’s kind of cute the first time they do it, but beyond that, it just gets annoying. Sometimes, they try to guilt-trip you into joining them. The first act, they do the Macarena. Second act is the Sprinkler. Third act, they do the Hustle. Enough already, just let me eat my soggy seafood and limp french fries!!  By the way, NEVER mention that it’s your birthday. Unless you like wearing a coconut bra and dancing in the aisles to a Jimmy Buffet song…all while a pulsating strobe light illuminates the room, making you dizzy. The free scoop of vanilla ice cream just isn’t worth it.

They also had a gift shop here, kind of like what you’d find at the Hard Rock Cafe or Margaritaville, except Joe’s totally capitalizes on the “crabs” theme. Obviously. Nothing like a little STD innuendo to whet your appetite. You can buy all kinds of shit with clever puns – like shotglasses inscribed with “Peace, Love, and Crabs” or a t-shirt that reads, “Check out my mussels.” You go Joe! I surely didn’t see those jokes coming!

The abandoned Joe's Crab Shack Playland.

The food eventually came, with our server hastily dropping our grub off at our table to go do another dance. Between the Shark Bite drinks, my fried platter, and the sand pails of crab, by the end of the night, our table looked like Jaws threw up. No one complained about the food, but no one raved about it either. Or maybe they did. I don’t know — it was so damn loud up in hurrr that I don’t think anyone in our party held a conversation beyond, “WHAT?? CAN YOU REPEAT THAT?” “OH FUCK IT, TELL ME LATER.”  We left this place with our ears ringing and our bellies full of grease. Joe’s Crab Shack was one big fishy pile of MEH…but I bet my cat would love to eat the leftovers.

That said, I can’t say I’m sad that this chain uprooted itself from Minnesota. I remember one time in 2001, when my sister came into town — we had just finished up a marathon shopping session over at Rosedale and we were looking for a place to eat. She saw Joe’s and noted the boisterous vibe, but I just couldn’t bring myself to go here again. We settled on Olive Garden. Free salad and breadsticks, yo!

If I had a choice, give me Red Lobster. At least they have the cheesy biscuits. Or just give me that filet-o-fish. Give me that fish.

Any memories of Joe’s Crab Shack? Feel free to share in the comments!

Photos taken June 2009.

Eat at Joe's

Another view of the Roseville Joe's Crab Shack

The labelscar is actually more fitting than its original lettering -- it gives it that very appropriate 'branded cow' look.

I have 3 Roseville restaurant posts coming up — I was going to put them all into one blog entry, but this Cattle Company entry got long, so I’m splitting them up. Look for a Joe’s Crab Shack and KFAN/Grumpy’s entries coming shortly. No, this blog is not turning into a restaurant review blog. These places are either closed (Cattle Company & Joe’s) or just plain cursed (Grumpy’s location). That’s why they end up on Dumpy Strip Malls, with the unflattering snapshots, and not here with the yummy food pics.

You could say this stretch of land off of Snelling Avenue is a mini Roseville Restaurant Death Row. The Cattle Company closed up shop, and Joe’s Crab Shack wasn’t far behind. But the Olive Garden and Fuddruckers are still here…so I guess my stupid joke doesn’t really work.

I chose to photograph the Roseville spots but these upcoming restaurant posts can probably be applied to any location of these restaurants. They’re chains, for crying out loud. They’re pretty much the same wherever you go. Unfortunately, with these two restaurants, you can’t eat at them in Minnesota anymore.

Well…shit.

Stuart Anderson’s Cattle Company closed all of its Minnesota locations in September 2004. I guess this chain wasn’t doing so hot here, so they bid our state happy trails and left a smattering of empty buildings that look like barns in its wake. Seems to be difficult fill these former Cattle Company locations — 5 years later, and many are still standing today. But don’t have a cow, man — Stuart Anderson’s is still operating in many states today, but under the name Black Angus Restaurant.

The satellite dish is still on the roof

When you pull up to this place, it just makes you want to start humming “Oh I’ve got spurs that jingle, jangle, jingle…as they go ridin’ merrily along!” in a sing-song voice. The outside of this joint looks like a cowboy outpost and screams spittoons, spurs, and achy breaky boots. You almost feel like you should tie your horse up outside, walk bow-legged into the restaurant wearing a neckerchief, and light up a Marlboro. The logo even had a silhouette of Stuart Anderson himself panning for gold. (Yeah, I know. He’s cooking some concoction over a campfire, but in this economy, it’s the first thing that comes to mind — Mr. Anderson is obviously searching for a nice-sized bounty to bring into The Gold Guys).

When ‘ya get inside, you realize Stuart Anderson was just fuckin’ with ‘ya. This place was actually fairly trendy, almost a “business-romantic” atmosphere, as Michael Scott would say. Mood lighting, tabletop candles, a hostess in a little black dress, and piped-in Adult Contemporary music. What the hell is going on? Where’s the Minnesota’s Most Wanted posters on the wall? The Tim McGraw music? The howdy-do greeting by the hostess?

I can’t remember if they even had cowboy crap on the walls. I mean, they might’ve. I’m sure there was at least one wagon wheel nailed to the wall. How could they resist? You’d think I’d remember this a little better, being that I did eat here a fair share of times. All I know is that I didn’t feel like I was on the set of The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly.

This was a reasonably-priced suburban steakhouse with decent food.  You could always find coupons in your weekly

A cow figure is branded on the side of the building.

junkmail bundle, usually enticing you with a 3-course meal for two, for about $45. It faced competition from other mid-level steak chain places in town, namely Timberlodge with its rustic hunting cabin theme, and the Outback Steakhouse. As far as the Outback Steakhouse goes, I think I’m too dense to understand what the fuck the Australian Outback has to do with steak. When I think of the Land Down Under, I don’t think of beef. I think crocodiles, kangaroos, and the Men at Work. Not bovines. Whatever. And of course, there’s Manny’s and Murray’s — the downtown, high-end/Daddy Warbucks-genre of steakhouses with a la carte pricing that give off that traditional “old boy’s club” ambiance, if you want to shell out some dough and rub elbows with Sid Hartman.

Cattle Company was in the Twin Cities for as long as I can remember. I remember my parents getting a babysitter for us kids and going here sans offspring for a nice dinner out. Most kids really don’t like steakhouses anyway. Sirloin steak topped with shoestring onions? Warm bread and whipped butter? Loaded baked potato? Sounds good now as an adult, but most kids would prefer to eat soggy pizza at Circus Circus, doggy-paddle their way through the ball crawl, and come home with the Chicken Pox.

One of my favorite things about this place is that had HUGE, comfy, private booths in little alcoves around the restaurant. The downside to these alcoves was that booths were so high, your server would often forgot someone was sitting in the booth, resulting in very slow service. It was also really dimly lit, like an underground lair or a nightclub. Lots of steakhouses do this for some reason — I’m going here to eat my steak, not to pick up a guy.  This is the Cattle Company, not Redstone!

This is a place you'd want to go when you didn't want to shell out the dough to eat at Murray's.

They did have a bar area, where that sort of shit went down. I remember a friend and I coming here to sit at the bar in 2001 to watch the World Series and two different dudes bought us a round of drinks. It seems a little odd that people would come to Cattle Company to hook up with a mate. Maybe it’s all those women with cowboy fetishes, thinking they might find a Kenny Chesney look-a-like here? I feel ‘ya — I went through that cowboy thing myself…when was when I was 16. My obsession was nipped in the bud when I saw Garth Brooks without his hat on. The closest you might get to a cowboy in here is perhaps finding a deputy sitting at the bar, enjoying a cold one after a long day of rounding up some stray cows on the county road. So, girl, if you really want that cowboy, either move to Montana or just go to the Disney store and get yourself a Woody doll.

We went to the Fridley location) for my pre-Junior prom dinner back in 1996. It was either this or the Sunshine Factory because that’s just what everyone did at my high school for prom. In the north suburbs, we really didn’t have much choice back then for nearby, high-faulting dining establishments.  I remember walking in here (decked out in my prom dress, flower corsage, and high heels) and making

Cattle Company had a really good Molten Lava Chocolate Fudge Cake!

a spectacle of myself by tripping over some extension cord taped down on the floor. Fuck, it’s no wonder that after the prom, my date just wanted to “be friends.” Technically, we are still friends. On Facebook, anyway.

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I never ate at the Roseville Cattle Company — I went to the Brooklyn Park and Fridley locations. I can’t recall where BP location was (might’ve been in Brooklyn Center?), but I’m sure the building is long gone. The Fridley location (off of University Avenue, in the Cub Foods parking lot) was razed a few years ago to make way for a CVS.

This disowned parcel in Roseville was supposed to be redeveloped into a grocery store in 2007. Not sure what happened to those plans, but here we are, 2 years later, with the Cattle Company eyesore still standing proud. The Minnetonka location is still unleased as well — let the cow fun live on!

Hate the Cattle Company? Miss the Cattle Company? Did you also have your prom dinner at the Cattle Company? Leave a note in the comments!

Photos taken June 2009.

The outside of this place says, "Home on the range where the deer and the antelope play" but the inside tells a different story

The Roseville, MN Cattle Company

Okay, so that’s not the official slogan of Baker’s Square — it’s “Come for the food, stay for the pie”. Close enough though. Personally, I’d rather just come for that 3,000-calorie slice of pie & scoop of ice cream that will surely lead me down the path of bedridden obesity, and pass on the food, but that’s just me.

Keep your fork, there's pie!

Welcome to Baker’s Square, a restaurant chain serving all-day breakfast entrees, inoffensive continental cuisine, burnt coffee, and sweets that go straight to your ass. And lots and lots of French Silk Pie.

The Baker’s Square restaurant chain is still alive ‘n kickin’ in Minnesota, but only a handful of locations remain. Many locations, including Maple Grove, were wiped out in the Great Bakers Square-icide of April 2008.  (Those locations were Plymouth, St. Anthony, Maplewood,  Minnetonka,  Burnsville, one in Minneapolis, and one in St. Paul).

Bakers Square closed early, probably keeping a lot of riff-raff out of the restaurant

Okay, so a random chain restaurant closes in the suburbs — big whoop, right? Yeah, I know…not very interesting.  But by golly, I just like taking pictures of abandoned buildings and writing blog posts about said abandoned building.  I’m no photographer (as evidenced by the shitty photos on this blog), so I’m not going with an artsy angle here.  Just a post about a ho-hum suburban chain restaurant that I haven’t eaten at in years. I can’t really say I’m shedding tears over this one.

I’m sure Grandma is though!

Baker’s Square is the local elderly hangout. Whether it’s a gathering place to shoot the shit before hitting up the Kohls Early Bird specials, or the spot of a Grand Casino after-party, Midwestern old fogies love this place,  my grandma included. When my parents would take us to Grandma’s house, Grandma would always want to come here. She’d gather up her pie tins (grandma always saved the pie tins. She’d get a whole quarter every time we’d go here), and squeal,  “POPPIN’ FRESH!!! POPPIN’ FRESH!!! POPPIN’ FRESH!!” (even though this place dropped the Poppin’ Fresh name years ago) and would practically wet herself on the drive over, just thinking of the pies.

Bakers Square

Prior to 1983, Baker’s Square was known as Poppin’ Fresh. You’d think that after all this time, people would call this place by its correct name, but no. The elderly crowd this place caters to keeps the Poppin’ Fresh name alive.  Oh fiddlesticks, I shouldn’t talk — I’m sure in 30 years, some young whippersnapper will poke fun at me for calling US Bank “First Bank” and referring to Macy’s as Daytons and saying stuff like, “Back in my day, Wells Fargo was Norwest Bank!!! Their logo was a giant green “N”!!!” *waves cane*

Most of the Baker’s Square locations are or were in need of a major renovation. It looked like you were dining at Grandma’s house, with the fluffy window valances, stain-concealing carpet, country floral wallpaper and matching border, all in the Baker’s Square-signature cranberry red and seagrass green color accents. Ho-hum.

You can still see the decor through the window

The food wasn’t anything to write home about either, but your Grandma probably raves about it. Lackluster comfort food and an anytime-breakfast menu is how Baker’s Square rolls — it’s the stuff you crave when it’s 2 below and you want to eat something that requires elastic waist pants (luckily, most of their regulars are people who already rock the elastic waist pants, so no wardrobe change is necessary for most patrons). The elderly-friendly menu consists of breaded chicken patties, BLTs, meatloaf, onion rings, chicken fried steak, rice pudding, pot pies– all assuring that critical bowel movement later on in the day.

So yeah — starchy, simple meals that can be gummed easily by Grandpa. And pie. Can’t forgot that pie. But really, when do you ever eat a meal at Baker’s Square? I honestly can’t remember the last time I ate here.  My friends and I used to rock Perkins or Denny’s HARRRDD when we were in high school. But Bakers Square closed at like 10 or 11PM — far too early for our 1AM dinner parties, so they lost out on the teen demographic and just went after Grandma.   Too bad — we’d eat ourselves sick at these places, running up a huge tab chowing down high fat trucker-style breakfast food and greasy appetizer samplers right before going to bed.  How I escaped my teenage years without blowing up like a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade balloon is beyond me.

The free WiFi (Wi-Pie. I stand corrected) gives Grandma another opportunity to check her email and clog your inbox with more chain-letter email forwards.

I used to come here to pick up a pie to bring up to my parents’ house for Christmas dinner. Baker’s Square took holidays seriously. On any major pie holiday (Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas), they’d have a pie hostess sitting at a card table in the lobby, taking orders and giving you a slip of paper to claim your pie. She’d pass on your order to some hotshot manager wearing a headset and he’d fetch your pie from the fridge, and update the inventory tally. It was quite the production! With the Maple Grove Baker’s Square location closed, our Christmas dinner will forever be without a Baker’s Square pie but really, with a little effort, you could probably make a better pie at home. Especially the French Silk — probably Baker’s Square’s most popular pie.

French Silk Pie is not that difficult to make. Buy a pie crust at Cub, whip up some instant Jell-O chocolate pudding, pour into the crust, and cover in Redi-Whip. Done and DONE. If you’re feeling really adventurous, toss a Hershey’s bar in the SlapChop and sprinkle the shavings on top. Want to make the Candy Cane Christmas pie? Follow the same steps for the French Silk pie, and cut up some candy canes. BINGO – Christmas Pie!

I do miss the Fresh Strawberry pie (seasonal). That fucker was a pie I’d die for.

And I’m willing to bet the Baker’s Square pies were not made fresh, on-site. Probably trucked in from Jersey or something.

I’m not sure if Baker’s Square will last in Minnesota — with all the recent closings, it doesn’t look good. All of these breakfast places pretty much offer the same thing, but I think Perkins does it best. They’re open 24/7 AND they have a wishing well. (just don’t go there on the “Kids Eat Free Tuesdays” — the entire restaurant turns into one loud juice box-flingin’ family section). Denny’s had the silly-named menu items but other than that, it doesn’t do much for me.

And Bakers Square has the pie.

So keep your fork.

Photos taken June 2009

Baker's Square

A weedy, reedy swamp and a rusty highway rail complete the picturesque view of the Fridley Crab House

Welcome to the Fridley Crab House Music Cafe — Fridley’s mistake by the lake.

First off, being that it’s a shabby-looking CRAB house,  I suppose you’re waiting for me to roll off a bunch of STD jokes about creepy-crawly creatures feasting on someone’s diseased groin. Aww, c’mon, that’s just too easy and cliched.  STD jokes about a crabhouse are very “…what’s the deal with airline food? And Grape Nuts? There are no grapes or nuts…what gives?”, ya know?

Anyway, this joint opened in 1968 as the Shorewood Restaurant. It stayed as the Shorewood Restaurant until sometime in the early ’00s.  It was bought out by (I’m assuming…) the same people who own the St. Croix Crab House Music Cafe. Damn, that’s a mouthful.

Even when this place was in business, the outside always looked like Red Lobster’s sad sack cousin. (And if you’re like me and not a fan of Ol’ Red, that’s not saying much). It had the same type of cliched seafood restaurant outdoor decor – nautical ropes, sawed-off wooden stumps, and a counterfeit dock for a walkway.

The Crabby House

It did have one thing going for it that most Red Lobsters don’t: It was next to a body of water, almost giving the impression that the fish they serve is caught fresh near the premises. Thank goodness it’s not – no way in hell I’d want to eat anything caught out of Moore Lake.  I do see people fishing here, quite often actually. What the heck are they catching, carp? Bullheads? Geese droppings? It can’t be anything worth frying up; I don’t think Moore Lake is stocked with walleye.

Door's open

Anyway, this joint tries to pass as some seaside boardwalk cafe in a lazy beach town serving today’s catch. In reality it’s a smokey dive bar with a shitty live band, serving processed seafood & low-grade crab meat trucked in from 2000+ miles away, surrounded by a parking lot filled with cigarette butts, all while overlooking a swamp in an inner-ring Minneapolis suburb.

A SIGN that the Shorewood restaurant was once here. Unfortunatly, some careless driver rammed it into the tree.

Now, to be fair, I only ate here once a few years ago (when it was the Fridley Crab House) and never returned. Once was ENOUGH. I heard that it was better when it was the Shorewood Restaurant, but I never had the chance to visit. I went with a friend who had a craving for seafood, and since she lived close by, we decided to give this place a shot. After all, how bad could it be?

Yetch. If you think the outside looks shoddy, the inside was just as lovely.   It had a dark and smokey (this was pre-smoking ban days) atmosphere, wobbly tables, cracked vinyl booths, a scratched-up dance floor, and had all the town drunks lined up at the bar crying in their beer — the Oceanaire, this ain’t.

Now, I’m not a huge seafood fan. I’ll eat it, but I don’t seek it out on a regular basis. So I can’t speak to the crab, but I’m guessing they didn’t serve the stuff they net on The Deadliest Catch.  And the fresh salmon they advertised was probably not wrestled from the paws of baby grizzlies. I’m sure it was all trucked in, Sysco-style.

I remember the hostess seemed to have an attitude and our server looked like she just rolled out of bed. We should’ve left right there, but we pressed on and ordered cheap happy hour well drinks and appetizers. I think I had the walleye fingers or something.  I wasn’t impressed because all I could taste was the breading. We also ordered onion rings that were dripping in grease. The drinks were served in spotty glasses and were very weak – not that I was looking to get twisted up in that bitch (though it would’ve taken the edge off dining in this hellhole) – but if I wanted a glass of melting ice cubes with a splash of soda, I would’ve ordered a diet coke, not a Cap’n Diet.

Something FISHY is going on at the Crab House…

They did have live music here, but we ate here too early in the evening to experience this. I can only imagine that once the band starts up, the shit starts goin’ down. The alcohol gets flowin’, the men start mackin’ on the hussies, and next thing you know it, you’re either walking out with a black eye or the girl. This hole-in-the-wall looked like it could get pretty damn wild. It’s one of those places that by closing time, a dozen chairs have been thrown, a few tables tipped over, and every once in a while, the fuzz shows up to break up a  brawl.

As expected, the bathrooms were gross. The walls looked like they had 30 coats of paint and the locks on the majority of the stalls were broken. They also had an outdoor patio — you know, so you could enjoy the scenic view of the marsh, watch horseflies crawl all over your popcorn shrimp, puff on a Winston, and get eaten alive by blood-thirsty mosquitoes.

The crab house closed sometime in the fall of 2008. I believe it was because the owner was/is facing tax evasion charges, not because of the shitty service and food. As of today, something’s up at the Crab House. It looks like someone bought this place, though this cannot be confirmed at press time. If this is so, I do hope the new owners gut the inside (looks like they’ve already begun), give the exterior a new coat of paint, and re-pave the parking lot. This place probably could be a fun hangout spot, if done right.

Photos taken May 2009.

Moore Lake "Beach"

See what I mean? This city has a MAJOR geese problem

The first Krispy Kreme retail location opened in Maple Grove in April 2002 with major fanfare and a media shitstorm. And

Krispy Kreme's conveyer-belt donuts couldn't even last a decade in Minnesota

in February 2008,  it went out with less than a whimper.

When the Krispy Kreme opened in Maple Grove, there was  an incredible amount of commotion. I guess it set a KK store opening record. Hundreds of people camped outside the Krispy Kreme for several days,  all local news stations were there doing live reporting from the scene, and they had policemen directing traffic in the area. There were even ad hoc donut tycoons selling boxes of Krispy Kremes on street corners for profit! The congested traffic and long lines went on for months.

Yeah, all of this ballyhoo over hot donuts. Nutrition was officially dead in 2002; long live rotted pancreases, kidneys, and livers!

Ahh, it was such a simpler time back then. In those days, our biggest worry was timing a visit to Krispy Kreme to get there right when the blinking light goes off.  These days, it’s all about the unemployment rate, the in-the-crapper economy, and poisoned peanut butter. These days, no one’s going to play hooky at work to camp out for donuts – ‘cuz if you have a job, you do whatever you can to keep it. (By the way, if you think I’m going to knock on those folks to pitched tents outside of Krispy Kreme, or the donut entrepreneurs who flipped donuts on the black market, you’re wrong. I’m not one to talk. I’m one of those jokers who camped outside of Target for 2 days for a Playstation 3, hoping to make beaucoup bucks on eBay, only to sell it at a loss.)

The Krispy Kreme phenomenon only lasted for six years in Minnesota. Krispy Kreme Minnesota locations began closing in the summer of 2007. The Maple Grove location was the last one standing, and it didn’t last much longer, closing its doors in February 2008. Today, the Krispy Kreme building is empty.

I never understood why people were so krazy about those things. I’d hear the excuse that you have to get them while they’re hot, but when you fry up some shortening and dough, anything will taste good hot. I tried ‘em hot and still didn’t get the hype. All it was, was a warm donut. Big whoop. I could emulate the same thing myself in the microwave.

Krispy Kreme’s major fault was they grew so fast that they over saturated the market with their product. In a few short months, KK’s were in every grocery store and every Target in the state. I think everyone in Minnesota pretty much OD’d on donuts.

My first encounter with Krispy Kreme was in October 2001, before Minnesota even had a Krispy Kreme “restaurant.” I was working at Target HQ and Target struck some sort of deal with this particular donut shop to stock these things in their stores. Prior to this, I had never heard of such a place. To celebrate this event, all HQ employees were entitled to a free box of Krispy Kreme glazed donuts down in the lobby.  I swear to God, my coworkers were going apeshit over this stuff.  Our weekly team meeting fell on this same morning during which the donuts were given away, and my manager canceled the meeting so we could all could queue for the free donuts AND have time to sit down and enjoy them.

Now, I’m not much of a donut fan – I’ll eat them, but I don’t get cravings for them (that’s because I eat DANGER for breakfast, not Bavarian Cremes). But because there was so much emotion and fervor over these pastries, curiosity got the best of me, and I found myself taking the elevator down to the lobby to pick up my complementary donuts.

The donuts were handed to me in a green & white polka dotted box with a Krispy Kreme logo that looked so retro, I started to yearn for those simpler times of sock hops, poodle skirts, and Dick & Jane readers. Hey, whatever happened to predictability? The milkman, the paperboy…evening TV?!

Krispy Kreme has been closed for a year now, but someone is still using their dumpster

I hopped back on the elevator, holding my box of donuts, wondering, “How can CREAM be CRISPY?”  I was perplexed. Is that even scientifically possible? The anticipation grew after every floor the elevator passed.

I thought to myself, “I bet these donuts have some sort of crispy outer shell, yet are creamy on the inside…oooh, that sounds positively divine!” By the time I was back at my desk, I was practically having heart palpitations over my thoughts of the sugary consumables inside the polka dotted box.

I opened up the box, expecting these donuts to blow me away. Instead, I ended up being more disappointed than I was after seeing Jurassic Park III a few months earlier. Staring up at me were twelve generic-looking glazed donuts and a puddle of grease pooling on the bottom of the box.

“These look just like the ones from SuperAmerica,” I thought.  I picked up the donut and immediately wished I had swiped some napkins from the cafeteria. It was incredibly sticky, almost too sticky to hold.  I eagerly took a bite of the donut, hoping to have a near orgasm.

I was incredibly disappointed. It wasn’t crispy and it sure as hell wasn’t creamy. It was simply a sickeningly sweet glazed donut and nothing more. I could feel my pancreas seizing up from trying to fight the sugar and I swore I saw a spare tire forming over my waistband as the donut slid down my gullet.

“Good thing I wore my fat pants today,” I thought. I finished the donut sans orgasm, and stared at the remaining 11 police officer energy rings in the box. No way in hell was I ever going to eat all those damn donuts. I wiped my sticky-donut-residue-covered fingers on my fat pants and offered up the Kremey Krispies to Bob, my cube neighbor.

“What?! You don’t like Krispy Kremes?”

“Errr…well, I tried one, and it’s just a glazed donut.”

“But you gotta try them hot!” Bob insisted.

“Oh yeah, I’ll have to do that. I’m not really a fan of donuts though.”

Poor Bob. His eyes grew wide and he started to stutter. “But! But! You’re a member of the DONUT club?! And you *gasp* don’t like DONUTS?”

You're going to have to find somewhere else to have a heart-attack.

Oooh BUSTED!

Eek. Time for a little backpeddling. “Well…errr…I mean, I like donuts, I’m just not in the mood for them today.”

There. Face = SAVED.

I should back up. I failed to mention that during my time at Target, I belonged to this exclusive clique- the DONUT CLUB. (Or as I liked to childishly call it (in my head) – the Donut “Fattening” Club).

Oooh. A donut h8ter in the Donut Club. Did I live on the edge or WHAT?

I joined the Donut Club out of obligation. This was my first job out of college, so I wanted to “network” and try to fit in with my much older colleagues.

The rules of the donut club were that you had to bring 2 dozen donuts of a mixed variety on Thursday morning when it was your turn.  The donuts were to arrive no later than 7:45AM, as the donut club “met” at 8am in the conference room on our floor. Under no circumstances were you to substitute bagels for donuts.

I wasn’t a donut fan, but I joined this donut brotherhood because I figured it’s a good way to get to know everyone — and one donut per week won’t kill me, it’ll just make me feel bloated for a while. I just had to remember to wear those fat pants on Thursdays.

Once Krispy Kreme opened, the hype spilled over to our Donut Club. The rules were amended. If you lived anywhere NEAR a Krispy Kreme, you were to bring Krispy Kreme donuts. I was 4th on the list after the rules were amended and so far, everyone had brought in Krispy Kreme donuts.

The closest Krispy Kreme to me was the one in Maple Grove, but it was quite a bit out of the way. It wasn’t exactly en route to downtown Minneapolis.

Screw that. I was willing to suffer the consequences. The little girl lowest on the corporate ladder was about to break Donut Club Rules of Conduct. This is Minnesota though – and donuts ‘n drama go hand-in-hand.

If I ate a donut here, I wouldn't go to sleep for a few days

I ended up buying a box of Cub Foods donuts. I set them on the conference room table, stood back, and let the sparks fly. I had roughly 30 coworkers who were all foaming at the mouth for Krispy Kremes and I had to go & bring generic grocery store pastries. Not exactly a way to win friends and influence people, but fuck if I’m driving all the way out to Maple Grove.

I got out of the meeting without any bruises, but I did overhear several snotty remarks about no Krispy Kremes. I half expected to be discharged from the Donut Club after that, but no. My coworkers weren’t quite that radical.

So, back to Bob. By noon, he had polished off his entire dozen, plus 3 more out of my box. Oink, oink, indeed! Later in the afternoon, I overheard him whining to a few other people, (while shoving another one down his throat), about the donuts not being hot off the conveyor belt. Fuck, dude, they’re FREE. Whatchu complainin’ about?

Today, there is no national donut chain in Minnesota. If you want donuts, you’ll find them at a mom & pop bakery or Cub or Rainbow. However, Dunkin’ Donuts is coming back to the state soon, within the next few years. And you know what, it’s probably going to open with the same fanfare Krispy Kreme did. Lines around the block, community service officers directing traffic, lead story on the 10pm news. What I wonder is, why couldn’t we support the chain when it was here the first time? Because, 10 years ago, the only way Dunkin Donuts could get people to queue up is if they would’ve put opium in their donuts.

The Krispy Kreme drive-thru was once a center of complete chaos. Now it stands empty.

Everyone in Minnesota is clamoring for Dunkin’ Donuts and waxing poetic on how much they miss the place. How the donuts are spectaular and the coffee is to-die-for. The ones I like to laugh at are those fools who claim they just go there for the coffee, not the donuts. Yeah, right. Those are the same people who profess that they go to Hooters just for the wings.

I didn’t mind Dunkin’ Donuts, probably because I’m more of a cake donut fan myself. Dunkin Donuts have SUBSTANCE. You can actually chew them. . Krispy Kremes are mostly air and glaze and turn to mush when you pop them in your mouth. That’s great for Grandpa, but I still have my teeth and I want to use them. You see, if you mushed up a Krispy Kreme in your hand, it would be about the size of a marble. You can’t do that with a Dunkin’.

In KK’s defense, Dunkin’ Donuts are really tiny. Tiny, girly, wee little donuts – not suitable for a real man. You have to eat three of the damn things, when just one Krispy Kreme would’ve done the trick.

A blog post about donuts just isn’t complete without a police officer joke. So I’ll wrap up this long-winded post with my favorite joke:

How am I going to get my fried goo and lard these days?

A policeman pulls a guy over for speeding and asks him to get out of the car. After looking the man over he says, “Sir, I couldn’t help but notice your eyes are quite  bloodshot. Have you been drinking?” The man gets really angry and says, “Officer, I couldn’t help but notice your eyes are glazed. Have you been eating doughnuts?”

All photos taken Feb. 2009

Birthdays, new employee welcome lunches, promotion celebrations, Mardi Gras – no matter what the occasion, it’s always Fuddruckers. There are dozens of other restaurants in the St. Louis Park/Golden Valley/Minnetonka area, but for some unholy reason, the admin thinks our team loves this place, so we keep going back.

Well, for the most part, our team does enjoy a good Ruddfucking. It’s just another coworker and I who have a stick up our ass about this place.

Get Gordon Ramsey in this joint!

You’d be surprised on how many business guy-type assholes come in here to “touch base” with each other over lunch. I don’t get it – find all your clients and whip out that expense account and take them to…Fuddruckers? Whatever floats your boat “at the end of the day”, I guess.  If you don’t believe me, come here around noon on Friday and watch them drink the corporate kool-aid in action.

I’ve been called a “snob” by a few coworkers over my hate for Fuddruckers.  Oh, I’m a snob alright. Because, you know, I only go to five-star restaurants where I can go pick out a chicken from the coop myself and hobnob with my high-powered friends, all of whom I’ve invited to a mixer on Saturday night at my estate, where you can overhear me saying things like this:

“Ahem! Thurston, could you please bring me some Grey Poupon? My finger sandwich is a bit dry. Oh, look! The Wentworths have arrived. Oh, hello Biff, that’s a beautiful polo you’re wearing…”

Fuddruckers is dirty, it’s grimy, I don’t like their grease bomb food, and it’s just not worth getting fat over. They used to hang dead meat carcasses in the windows for crying out loud! I can’t, for the life of me, get that picture out of my head. Not to mention that the last time I was there, I spotted a giant centipede scaling the wall.

It’s kind of expensive too, for what it is. I don’t mind paying $$ for a decent meal. Keyword = DECENT. If I’m eating at this place, it’s because of a work function, not by choice. Work never pays for our lunch; it’s out of our own pockets. I hate spending money on food I don’t like. One

You've never been fucked until you've been Rudd-fucked. (Sorry, I *had* to go there)

time, my Fuddruckers-hating coworker and I both had ONLY water and got hateful looks from everyone. So now I succumb to peer pressure and always order something.  I’m in the corporate world and ‘ya gotta play the game.

I should mention that there’s no waitstaff here – you order at a counter and they call your name over a loudspeaker when your food is ready. Fuck, if I’m going to pay $8.00 for a burger, $3.00 for fries and $2.25 for a soda, somebody had better bring it to me!

The folks who like this place go here for the burgers. I’m not a big burger fan (obviously, otherwise I’d probably luvvv this place). You can add your own toppings on your burger, allowing you to stack the tomatoes 5 feet high or if you want, you can put enough mayo on your burger to make it look like the money shot in a porn flick.

With the smoking ban firmly in place, you don’t have to worry about walking out of a restaurant anymore, smelling like an ashtray. That doesn’t mean you can walk out of an eating establishment odor-free though. Especially at Ruddfuckers. Yep, you’ll end up walking out of the place smelling like a hot, filthy short-order kitchen. I had to take my jacket to the drycleaners after the last time I was here – the french fry grease + slaughterhouse stench followed me home like a feral cat.

I think Fuddruckers struggles a bit with its identity – at least the St. Louis Park location does.  It’s supposed to have 50′s diner type atmosphere, but I really didn’t notice it much. Some of the decor does give out that “1950′s era/get-in-the-kitchen, woman!” vibe. However, there’s video games (BIG BUCK HUNTER, w00T!), tons of TVs tuned to ESPN, NASCAR flags hanging from the ceiling, a wall created with cases of beer (classy!), and, oh — and a giant bug crawling up the wall. Lest we forget.

Bless those doomed souls inside the Fuddruckers

Really, what the hell is this place supposed to be? A 50′s diner or ESPN Zone? They weren’t even playing 50′s music in the background. I heard TI’s “Whatever You Like” not once, but twice when we were eating here. Which isn’t a bad thing because I do like that song. Speaking of which, have you heard the Weird Al parody? Classic!

For all the bashing I just did, Fuddruckers isn’t ALL bad. Their milkshakes are large and thick (that’s what she said) and WILL get the boys to the yard. And BIG BUCK HUNTER. Can’t go wrong there. They have Golden Tee too – if I want me some cooties, all I have to do is touch the ball. It’s my preferred method of getting sick.

Bennigan’s

One crappy food chain down, 30,000 more to go!

The St. Louis Park Bennigan’s closed down (along with almost all Bennigan’s nationwide) in July 2008.  What will poor Butters do?

I shed a tiny tear along with Butters when I learned of the chain’s closing. Really, I did. I liked their baked potato soup and their Turkey O’Toole. Mmm…baked potato soup. Nobody did it better.

About 6 or 7 years ago, the guy I was dating at the time and I would come here for dinner occasionally. We’d always get in fights about the Minnesota Twins. It was like clockwork -the baked potato soup we’d share would arrive, we’d each take two sips, and the baseball bout would begin.

Bennigan's is closed. OH NO! I'll have to go to TGIF's. Or Ruby Tuesdays. Or Red Lobster. Or Chilis

He was such a homer that he’d get pissed over the not-so-nice nicknames I gave our players. Luis “0-for-3″ Vas, Brian BuCAN’Tan, Brad “First Inning Rally” Radke, “There’s no I in team, but there are 2 in” Torii Hunter (thanks Chris Berman!), Ron GardenFIRE, and so on. There was one in particular that would really throw him over the edge (it also was the most childish): Matt LeSuck (LeCroy). Oh yeah, that’d really piss him off. So much so that he told me I might as well just become a Chicago White Sox fan.

Oooh BURN.

Anyway, it’s not surprising that a nationwide restaurant chain would shut down in this economy. After all, how many damn burger sports bars do we need?

I always figured Applebee’s would be the first to go, not Bennigan’s. At least Bennigan’s TRIED to be different, with its St. Patrick’s Day theme and all. Applebee’s, on the other hand, is the most bland and generic of all the major chains and doesn’t specialize in any particular theme – unless you count “neighborhood grill with random shit glued to the wall.” Say what?

The inside looked like a you stepped into 1984. They didn’t even have flat screen TVs in here! We’re almost 10 years into the 21st century and this

Butters is going to starve.

place still had CRT televisions. I thought it was a requirement for all restaurants to have flat screens these days. Hell, if this Bennigan’s were still in business, all their TVs were probably still getting an analog signal and the screens would turn to snow next month. (**Note to all wannabe hipsters: February 2009 is the perfect time to join the pretentious “I don’t own a TV” clique.)

The St. Louis Park location had an upstairs “party” area, with another bar, a bunch more uber modern CRT TVs, and a few pool tables. I’m not sure if this is common at all Bennigan’s locations (the SLP location is the only one I’ve been to).  Sometimes this area is sealed off for VIP private parties, where they whisk people in with  high 5′s and secret handshakes. Most of the time, the area is open and it’s a happy hour free-for-all.  The upstairs is like a pigpen of 40-something year old nerds who went “AFK” long enough to get a Miller Chill + a game of pool in before returning to World of

Too bad this wasn't for sale in 2005. I'm sure Countrywide would have financed me.

Warcraft.  It’s just as gloomy as the main dining area too – even more so since some guy was killed up there in 2004 in a fight over a game of pool .
This whole area of SLP is beyond depressing. On this service road, we’ve got a few hotels, train tracks, some abandoned buildings, weedy parking lots, ugly-duckling office buildings from 1975, a shady gas station with prices well above the MN average, and — for fuck’s sake — a gun pawn shop.

Plus there’s all those white-elephant eyesore city internet wifi solar panels on every damn block that I don’t think ever got used. I feel bad for those folks who had one of those planted in their front lawn. Yuck.

Another view of Bennigan's. You can see the "Alaska Eatery" (formerly Shelly's) next door.

Photos taken November, 2008. Much apologizes for the bad photos. It was a gloomy day.

Nothing says "dumpy strip mall" better than seeing housing projects in the distance

When it comes to dumpy strip malls, Humboldt Square takes the cake. It’s got it all – weedy parking lot that needs resurfacing, skid row neighbors, questionable clientele, a couple boarded up shops, a random smattering of local businesses, and about 4 different barber shops.

I didn’t snap many pictures because I wanted to get the hell out of dodge. This isn’t the safest area for a gal who’s by herself to be wandering around with an IPhone and a Coach bag, snapping pictures. Relatively speaking, of course. It isn’t like this is the south side of Chicago. After seeing a drug deal go down in broad daylight in front of Main Street Video, I knew I wasn’t getting out of the car.

This ain’t your mama’s Brooklyn Center.

After finishing up their drug deal, these upstanding citizens head into Main Street Video to rent "Next Friday"

Main Street Video was a childhood favorite. Mom would drive my siblings and I down to Humboldt Square and before she could even put the mini van in “park”, we’d be dashing into the store to see what Nintendo games were checked in. When I hit my teens, my brother and I were allowed to bike down to store and rent movies and games on our own.

Judging by the looks of this place today, I don’t think Mom would’ve let us bike there ourselves — much less pay a visit to this lovely strip mall.

And now it’s a video store AND an income tax place? Or is the business simply named “Main Street Video Income Tax”? Whatever it is, the “Income Tax” sign looks like a kindergartener cut it out of red construction paper. Either that or someone did a really bad impression of Comic Sans.

I suppose if those drug dealers get the munchies, they can head down to Scoreboard Pizza

Scoreboard Pizza was a Friday night staple in our household, but I wasn’t a fan. I would’ve rather had Little Caesar’s, Pizza Hut, or Dominos, but despite my coaxing, my parents weren’t having it. Their house, their rules = pizza from Scoreboard.

I haven’t had their pizza since mid-nineties, but I can still taste fennelicious sausage, the cardboard crust, and the greasy pools in the cheese to this day. Scoreboard’s pizzas came in a plain white pizza box that would be soaked in greasy splotches during the 5 minute commute home. I don’t even think the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles would touch this shit.

We never ate inside, always did carry out. There was a reason for that too – the ambiance is a flashback to the ’70s – dark and dreary with wood paneling and dark carpeting.

Don’t mind having to use an entire roll of paper towels to sop up all the grease? Then Scoreboard Pizza is for you! In all fairness though, despite my dislike for their food, Scoreboard Pizza found a way to survive in “30 Minutes or it’s FREE!” trend in the ’80s and 90′s and is still kickin’ today. This dive joint must be doing something right.

Despite the vast amounts of competing Chinese buffets in the area, House of Hui's remains in business

House of Hui’s was another family favorite. Well, to everyone but me. Being the picky eater that was (still am…), I would throw a fit if I found out we were having House of Hui’s for dinner. Think slimy stir fry over a mountain of white rice, topped with a bucket of soy sauce. Wash it down with a stale fortune cookie as you enjoy the inevitable post-dinner coma.

Krispy Kreme couldn't stay in business in Minnesota, but the Donut Delight lives on! Then again, it's next to the Movin' On Up Church...

Here’s the other end of the strip mall. There’s a Donut Delight (they have good donuts!) and a New Horizon Child Care center (looks like it’s still in business, to my surprise). Both have been a part of Humboldt Square for as long as I can remember.

Like most of Brooklyn Center, Humboldt Square has gone downhill since the ’90s and continues to slide. It was never meant to be a high class shopping destination, but at least it was a safe place in my day. You didn’t feel intimidated by the loitering locals or fall witness to teens slanging crack.

Across the street from Humboldt Square lies more low income housing projects.

Another housing project with a carefully manicured lawn