Thought for Food

Growing up in Minnesota, we actually didn’t have many snow days — blizzards, they can handle  — but we did have “cold days.” Days when the temperature was 30 below — that’s without windchill, mind you — and sending little kindergartners out to catch the bus was legitimately dangerous.

I like snow days better.

Minnesota nice by Maya Brenner Designs. (Via taxidermychurch, who gave home state necklaces as bridesmaid gifts.)

Jim James (vocals), M.Ward and Conner Oberst, “Always On My Mind”

Via beautifulordinaire & kateoplis, who writes:

An extremely rare bootleg from their 2004 concert at the Pantages Theatre, Minneapolis; they never performed it again. It’s probably the most gorgeous rendition I’ve ever heard.

Well you clearly didn’t hear a few thousand Minnesotans sing it at the Prairie Home Companion State Fair Grand Stand Show last Friday night.

But seriously … I listened to this twice in a row with tears in my eyes.

Crop art is the art of making things out of seeds and beans and the like. There’s a robust tradition of crop art as left-wing political statement at the Minnesota State Fair.

While the piece above, “Self Portrait with First Ladies,” is utterly baffling (what’s with the Frida Kahlo references?), the ones below are more straight-forward.

The visage of our 44th president was immortalized in painstaking detail…

… while his Certificate of Live Birth urges birthers to “MOVE ON!”

AIG was dubbed “too well-connected to fail.”

Michele Bachmann, Minnesota loon and “Patron Saint of Wingnuts,” was a favorite target.

She was a featured freak in the “GOP Sideshow” alongside fat man Rush Limbaugh and snake woman AnnaConda.

And her “Precious Moments” were celebrated in millet.

Finally, on an entirely different note, Farrah was remembered as an icon should: with dried beans.

We were at the Fair the same day as Al Franken — how could we have missed this?! So pointless and wonderful.

That morning he sounded quite reasonable discussing healthcare reform with its doubters. To get a taste of where they were coming from, we stopped by the RNC booth and found this at the front:

M. noted that, to the RNC’s credit, there was no “death” in the displays.

(What a low bar.)

Last Friday, my sister, her BFF Katrina, M., and I went to the Minnesota State Fair, aka one of the most awesome places on earth.

We made a rule: if it’s not fried or on a stick, we’re not eating it. The only exceptions we made were for ice cream.

And so we ate (in chronological order)….

A pickle stick with cream cheese and pastrami.

A Pronto Pup, “America’s ‘original’ corn dog.” (Note the “unnecessary” quotation marks.) Obviously on a stick.

Calzone on a stick.

Deep-fried cheese curds, a State Fair tradition.

A sampler of Minnesota wines on a stick. (Could my fancy-pants, former-sommelier boyfriend look more dubious?)

A giant turkey drumstick.

M., ever a good sport, posed with it in front of the Poultry Building … and with a feathered friend.

My favorite soft serve ice cream sundae from the Dairy Building.

Beer on a stick.

Hotdish on a stick. For those of you who aren’t from Minnesota, “hotdish” is what we call a casserole. It was a bit of a let down because it was simply tater tots and sausage meatballs on a stick, covered in batter, and deep fried, and served with a side of milk gravy. I was expecting a classic mushroom soup hot dish baked into little loafs and deep fried. Now c’mon, you know you’d be all over that!

We didn’t try the Uffda Treat (whatever that is), which I’m now regretting.

French fries from the big stand near the Midway. Apparently Gourmet has called them the best fries in America. Don’t get me wrong, they’re good and all, but … no frickin way.

Deep-fried pickles. [Ed. note: YUM!]

Walleye on a stick.

Deep-fried green beans.

Lamb on a stick.

Elephant ear.

Wonderful ice cream flavored with Minnesota wines (rendering the wines edible!).

Things we did NOT eat, because we are neither suicidal nor masochistic…

Tom Thumb Mini Donuts.

Unidentified massive fried things.

Potato lefse and Swedish meatballs on a stick.

BIG FAT BACON on a stick.

Buffalo on a stick.

Tornado Potato Spiral Chips, which looked like crazy balls of potato chips.

[Not pictured: deep-fried candy bars and Oreos, Belgian waffles on a stick, chocolate-covered bacon on a stick, key lime pie on a stick, teriyaki ostrich on a stick, deep-fried ravioli, Bloomin’ Onions, etc., etc.]

And last but certainly not least … Pot Roast Sundae (“Sunday dinner in a bowl”).

Just thinking about that last one makes me feel queasy.

Our trip to St. Paul was St. Perfect!

M. hit it off with the whole family, especially my dad, which made this dad’s girl very happy. When he regaled him with the history of hydroelectric power on the upper Mississippi, M. didn’t even have to fake interest! And he was duly impressed that Karl Marx mentioned the great flour mills of Minneapolis in his writings. Which is to say: he passed the test. ;)

Tonight I’m taking M. home to meet the family. He very briefly met my parents before we were dating and has hung out with my sister, but now it’s the real deal: four days in our house in St. Paul and a barbecue with the extended family on Saturday.

M., born and raised in Manhattan and convinced 90% of America is backwards and Bible-thumping, is going to get the full Minnesota experience. Tomorrow we go to the “Great Minnesota Get-Together,” the State Fair.  It’s the largest of its kind in this great nation of ours, second only to Texas.

We’ll ride burlap sacks down the Giant Slide, check out prize-winning sheep and fancy chickens, marvel at the fatness of people and the fatness of pigs, eat deep-fried cheese curds, assorted foods on sticks, and ice cream sundaes from the Dairy Building, admire bizarre crafts and perfect pies in the Creative Activities Building (where I once worked), giggle at busts of dairy princesses carved out of giant blocks of butter, find my Dad’s BLUE-RIBBON-WINNING relish in the Bee and Honey Building, and end the day with Garrison Keillor and “A Prairie Home Companion” at the Grand Stand. Followed by fireworks, of course.

Oh, it’s going to be GRAND!

Fingers crossed the city boy’s head doesn’t explode.