Cause Sound Bar- Uptown, Minneapolis

Friday, February 18^th

So far, I haven’t been disappointed by any of the places I’ve been. Even dive-bars have their “atmosphere” in the “characters” that regularly hang there. But, atmosphere was something very deficient in this place. In fact, there seemed to be a massive black hole of negativity in this place.

I met my friend, “boots” there for “happy hour”. Or in this case, more like unhappy hour. I was disappointed that even though she got there at 4:00, she wasn’t able to get a couple places at the small bar.  The black-clad young men occupying the seats at the bar, well…I wonder if they ever leave. They were all there when I arrived and still all there when I left hours later. I felt like I had stumbled into the place where Emos go when they are old enough to drink. I realized there was no loss in not being able to sit at the bar, as none of them were connecting with anyone else around them. To illustrate, at one point, one of the guys sitting at the bar suddenly seemed to come to life and held up a detailed drawing, over which he had his head down, diligently scribbling away, rather than working on communication skills. It was a neat drawing; surrealistic, exactly like the work being churned out by up-and-coming artists in New York and LA.  

The art displayed all over on a consignment basis, was pretty neat to look at, but that was about all there was interesting in the bar. There was a stage set up for someone to play. It was supposed to be a “sound bar”, after all, but there was no musician or band there when I was there.  It was kind of a weird configuration for the lay out. There were two sections because the bar sprawled out between two buildings. The side where the bar and stage wasn’t, was just a section for extra seating, but it would have made more sense to put either the bar or the stage over on that side, so you get interest points on both sides to draw people, but they jammed all the interest into one small space and basically condemned anyone not getting there early enough to get a seat in the main bar, to the “back alley” basically. The place was visually so uninterestig, that I didn't even bother taking pictures.

The bathrooms were interesting …bring a Sharpie if you go, because you might want to weigh in on some of the topics brought up on the toilet partitions.

There were a few other people around the bar who, like us, were probably just in the mood for something different. They looked as out of place as we did. They didn’t look out of place for Uptown, just for that bar.  There were a couple of fat girls. I consider myself slightly “candy coated” and I hate to use to use the word "fat", so maybe it would be better to say they were roly-poly.  AND, they were wearing dresses that showed off every curve. I have to hand it to them, they were feeling sexy though.

The food was just “okay”, nothing to blog about, but the service was good. Our waitress was attentive and pleasant.

I was really hoping for more here. I’ve been hoping for more interesting things to happen during my sojourns, so my blogs would spice up a bit. But, this was very disappointing, especially for a Friday. I’m not going to say don’t go there, it’s all individual preference. After all, you may like fat girls or tortured, artsy Emo dudes, and if so, this is the place for you.

Whisky Park, Downtown Minneapolis, February 9th, 2011

Whiskey Park opened in October, in the old Lodge location on 5th Street just across from the Lumber Exchange Building. I’d been meaning to go there and check it out for some time, and just have never gotten around to it. Last night, after work, I had some time to kill, so I decided to make it my bar of the week.

The owners also own the Lyndale Tap in Uptown and this is an attempt to cash in on the recent popularity of country bars. Not a lot of effort was put into decoration, but I appreciated the row of paintings of various country icons such as Willie Nelson and Johnny Cash, flipping the bird. However, I’m guessing, when it’s busy, the décor is the last thing people are looking at. Wednesday is the first day of the week the bar is open and it’s usually the slowest day of the week, according to the bartender, Anthony. It was even slower than usual last night; probably because of the sub-zero temps. I mean, who really wants to wander out in this weather? But, there were still a few young, urban professional types in pairs or groups around the bar proper.  It was a little awkward, but it is actually a rather vast bar and it would have seemed a bit odd if I had sidled right up to the only two guys that were sitting there when I first arrived; therefore, I opted for a perch where I could get some good pictures and eye up whomever entered.

Luckily, Anthony is a professional bartender who understood the art of schmoozing. He had worked at Sneaky Pete’s and Barrio previously and even has “groupies”. He was the primary, full-time bartender there. So, although there was no possibility of me interacting with the other people, who were involved in their own quiet conversations, he and I got on quite well. He managed to get everyone sitting at the bar involved in various conversations, and that is what a good bartender does. Just like at the St. Petersburg, which I spoke of two blogs ago. The shared topics of discussion were how ugly Cameron Diaz is in person and whose bathrooms are more disgusting, men’s or women’s. He insisted women were grosser in the public bathroom area.

Speaking of bathrooms, one had to travel down a dark, winding hallway to get there. It felt like a funhouse hallway and I was sure some bad-guy was going to jump out and grab me at some point. I mentioned to Anthony that the owners should have fun with that and make it up like a funhouse. That would be especially great for really drunk people. The bathrooms themselves didn’t look like they’d been remodeled from when the bar was The Lodge, but there were nice new “touchless” soap dispensers, faucets and towel dispensers. In a bar bathroom, there’s nothing better than not having to touch things.

Whisky Park has great specials. Happy hour runs from 4:00 to 7:00, which is better than the typical 3-6 HH. Then there’s another late happy hour too. Thursdays, from 8:00 to 10:00, ladies drink free (I think). When I was there, it was 2 for 1, and that wasn’t just for tap or rail drinks. That included whatever you wanted, as long as they had it. They had all the usual popular beers, but no PBR (WHAT?). Is that not cool anymore? I was really in the mood for a cold PBR, and despite their numerous choices they didn’t have anything I wanted, so I ordered the usual (Jim Beam/sour).

Apparently they have a countryish type band that plays once a month, but seriously, the bar could cash in on the recent grass-roots, country, folk music insurgence that’s popped up lately. They also apparently have a mechanical bull, but alas… no Karaoke. (WHAT?)

Their menu was the usual bar-type food; wings, nachos, pizzas. Anthony knew the preparation of the food and described it well enough to make me curious enough to try something different, but when I saw that they had dry-rub wings, I had to try them. They were actually pretty good. Some people across the bar ordered the nachos. As you would expect, a plate piled high with heaven.  

In closing, I would go back, if only to chat with Anthony. I’m sure one would need to go there on a Friday or Saturday night to get the feel for the REAL Whiskey Park atmosphere, but I’m not sure I really care to be around the type of people that hang out there on Friday and Saturday nights. Instead, I might just make that chair my usual Wednesday perch.

I think I’ve sort of neglected Uptown so far in my blogs, so next week, I’ll be reporting from somewhere in the UT. ‘Till then…bottoms up.

David Fong’s in Bloomington

February 3, 2011- Chinese New Year:

Located in Bloomington, far enough south on Lyndale Avenue that it’s almost on the Minnesota River, this family owned restaurant has been around since 1958. It looks like it still has its original décor, which is exactly part of its charm. Where Psycho Suzie’s tries to look retro, this place truly is. It’s Kitschy, but genuinely so and I wish there were more places in the cities that were like it.

I probably wouldn’t have gone quite so far from my neck of the woods, but it was Chinese New Year and I always like to celebrate with some Chinese food, beer and preferably a kung fu movie and a game of Mah Jong. Having no Mah Jong partners for the evening, I decided to strike out for the benefit of my blog. I did some research on Chinese restaurants that also had bars. This seems to be a rarity, but Fong’s boasted of a “Lounge” and also other entertainment for the evening in celebration of the New Year. I was intrigued, so I was willing to go that far to check it out. This was a stretch for me, because I had never been there before, it was a long way from home, and I went alone and completely blind into the place. To begin, it was an adventure finding the place. I had no idea it was so far south. Driving along Lyndale, I was just about to give up and turn back, and then I saw it; the huge, landmark, neon sign.  

The parking lot was full and my social anxiety meter was just about on tilt. This was my first time going into a completely strange place, completely alone. As I entered the establishment it was clear that many others were there celebrating the New Year. The place was teaming with people waiting around for a table and I was worried that I might not find a seat at the bar. Luckily, there was one seat open by a young red-haired girl who looked really out of place amongst the middle-aged (and older) crowd. I was relieved that she was someone I would be able to talk to. She was a waitress there, but not on duty. She was just waiting for her family to arrive, because they were having dinner there. That explained why a young lady like her would be hanging out at a place like that. She abruptly abandoned her seat to go have a smoke. I got the feeling that she was annoyed that I was attempting to speak to her. I’m not sure why.  I think she might have thought I was hitting on her. I wasn’t…even if I was a lesbian; she wouldn’t have been my type. No, after her brothers arrived, I was considering hitting on them though, they were nice looking. But I digress…back to the subject.

This time I actually got a lot of pictures. I apologize for the quality. My I Phone takes blurry pix in low-light situations. I ordered a Tseng Tao and some pot-stickers. Also some Kung Pao Chicken (for later). The pot stickers were tasty, but nothing special. Pretty much tasted the same as every other pot sticker I’ve ever eaten. The red-head’s abandoned seat was soon occupied by a young African gentleman carrying a laptop bag. I don’t mean African-American, I mean African. He was from Nigeria, by way of Georgia Tech. He has a PhD in Chemical Physics (or something like that) and had just gotten a job with a global chemical company (won’t mention the company) as a chemical engineer. He said it was his job to figure out how to make membranes that filter dirty water. His name was something African that I can’t pronounce, but it sounded like Coyote, so I just referred to him as Dr. Coyote.

Poor Dr. Coyote. The bartenders were so busy by the time the good Dr. arrived, that he could not get their attention. Finally one of the bartenders asked me if I needed anything else, and I said, “Yes, for you to take this guy’s order. He’s been trying to get your attention for the last 15 minutes.” I could see the bartenders were extremely busy filling drink orders for the tables, but it would have been nice for them to at least tell the guy “I’ll come back for your order as soon as I finish this drink order.” Or at least have acknowledged him in some way. But, they just acted like he wasn’t there. It was rude. I can also understand, from a server’s perspective that, when it’s really busy like that, it might be rude of a customer to order food at the bar when they have a ton of drink orders to fill. However, I did ask if it was okay for me to eat at the bar before I ordered, and they told me it was fine. Dr. Coyote ordered some sort of beef dish, but only ate half and sent it back. He said it just didn’t taste right. He ordered another dish and proceeded to eat that as well. He made no comment about that, at least not before I left.

At one point, I had to use the ladies room and while finding my way there, I noticed there was quite an extensive bar on the other side of the bar where I was sitting. That must have been the “lounge” the website boasted of. I was a little upset that I hadn’t seen it before, or I would’ve sat there instead, but the patrons on that side looked a little more raucous than the crowd on my side and so I decided I was planted in the right place.

Around 7:00, the Fong family did the traditional Lion dance to ward off the evil spirits. Three generations followed behind the dancing gold lion, banging drums and cymbals. As the Lion was dancing by me, he stopped, looked right at me, fluttered his eyes and flapped his jaw. I hope that means he was bestowing me with “good luck”. I need some.

After my third Tseng Tao (I didn’t even have a buzz. Does anybody know if that beer is 3.2?) I paid my tab, wished Dr. Coyote luck at his new job and with developing tolerance to our Minnesota winters and headed out. As I was leaving, the Fong family, four generations this time, were milling around the hostess area. You could see that it was a really special time for them, like they just really enjoyed doing what they do, and doing it together. It was actually very touching. I wanted to take a picture, but thought it’d be rude of me to take a picture of their family moment.

I was going to save my Kung Pao chicken for lunch today, but I was curious to try it, so when I got home, I dug in. Yes, like Dr. Coyote said, there was just something not right about it. I think the chicken may have actually been turkey. I’m not even going to try to describe the rest. As far as Chinese food is concerned, I’ll stick to the Tea House, but Fong’s was a fun experience. I’m sort of proud of myself. This was a big stride towards knocking down some of my walls. You just never know who you’re going to meet, until you’re forced to speak to the person sitting next to you. I’ve got many more places and people to discover. Until my next blog…bottoms up!

St. Petersburg Vodka Bar- Thursday January 27

As I mentioned in my initial blog here, I'm attempting to come out of my shell. I keep thinking, if I do something outside my comfort zone, such as go to a bar alone and talk to strangers, I might find it rewarding in some way, and therefore I will become more extroverted. I visited St. Petersburg Vodka Bar in Robbinsdale. This place is not new and I've visited many times before. But, this would be the first time I visited a bar, by myself. I felt that maybe a bar that I was familiar with, would be a good start. Baby-steps, right?

I do love St. Petersburg. It's the best bar you're not going to. If you remember the series "Cheers", then this bar is the closest to "the place where everybody knows your name". In fact, it's where I got my nic-name, "Cupcake". The bartenders are gregarious and charismatic and make an attempt to get to know all their customers. They don't act like they are simply cocktail slingers and they'll never see you agai after you walk out the door. They act like they definitely want to see you again after you walk out. They truly understanfd the concept of customer satisfaction. It seems rare in this day and age that the bartenders really want you to keep coming back. Most bartenders treat you like you're a number and they only want to serve as many people as possible for the tips. You are nothing and no one to them. Here, long-time bartending masters John and Brian make you feel like you're part of the family. You sit around and listen to the banter and feel like you have a little insight into the lives of the other people at the bar. Momentarily, you can escape fom your own life.

The bar itself is not flashy or trendy, but they have an excellent menu ranging from the usual drunk-snacks like wings to very high-brow fare, like Blini and Caviar. But no matter what you feel like, it all tastes fantastic.

They usually have a few different types of infused vodka on tap and because of that, they mix many badass martini's I reccomend the vodka soaked cherry's. They don't really taste good, it's just one of those risks you need to take in life, similar to launching yourself from a perfectly good plane with a pack full of silk on your back.

The clientelle also makes this place special. There is always something crazy going on. That is, in the lives of the people that come here. Many are regulars, attending several times a week, and others, like myself, once every couple months or so, but no matter what, everyone's life get's shared openly and the other regulars, or not-so-regulars opine on whatever the subject may be.

Initially, I sat and focused on eating a plate of wings. Gently coated in a light batter before frying, but not Buffalo-hot or coated in any sauce. They reminded me of tiny KFC "Original" morsels. A young guy across the bar seemed to be trying desperately to hit on me, He kept asking me the strangest questions in an effort to connect. Flattered though I was, he couldn't know that it was really bad timing. I just wasn't the slightest bit interested in being receptive to some guy's advances. He wasn't unattractive, I just was sort of pissed off at men in general at the time. (Long story and I won't relate that at his time) After a couple of Jim Beam Sours (mixed very strong) I started talking to the people sitting next to me. I knew I had met them before, but didn't know them. I reconnected, figured I'd talk a little and then go, but I ended up really connecting with them and stayed four hours. I hate to admit it, but I was way too drunk to drive home; however, I didn't have too far to go and luckily made it home without endangering anyone else. I actually had way more fun than I thought I would. I just couldn't leave. But that seems to be the case for most of the times I go there.

Okay, so It was easy enough to talk to people I already had met. The next time the people or person I talk to at the bar will be strangers, so it will be a test, for sure. Onward...until next time...bottoms up!