Bright Days, Twin Cities

Minnesota State Capitol, St. Paul.

St. Paul Cathedral

After a week of cities no larger than Duluth or Thunder Bay - most no larger than a few thousand people - the reunion with big-city life jarred us. Columns of recreation vehicles and SUVs topped with canoes queued north. Our schedule avoided the jam of people headed into Minnesota’s wild north. Time for the Twin Cities arrived. After a brief squeeze of rush hour, we settled into a third-floor rental, an old attic space turned into a loft apartment with skylights.

In this part of Minnesota, we had friends awaiting us. Nancy’s friend Becky recently moved to Minneapolis to live with her fiancé Mike, and we met them for an evening out. To unwind after our day in the car, they took us to the Red Stag Inn, a stately older bar and restaurant, where Mike’s father once worked.

Wind Chime, Minneapolis Sculpture Garden

We spent the next few hours on the bustling patio at the Butcher and Boar, one of Minneapolis’ top restaurants. Amid several glasses of excellent wine, Nancy had the crab legs and I somehow devoured the largest pork chop I ever encountered. We also had several rounds of small plates. As the Twins game ended and people in baseball gear funneled onto downtown sidewalks, we ducked into The News Room for a nightcap. By luck, they poured a S’mores porter from Flat Earth Brewing Co., which was otherwise exclusive to the Minnesota State Fair. I can still taste that silky porter that delicately draws out chocolate, marshmallow and graham cracker notes. With the hour late, we soon big good-bye to Becky and Mike.

In the loft apartment, bumping my head became common. The ceiling sloped rapidly near the bed, couch and bathroom. I also perpetually underestimate the height of my noggin. I could not think clearly about Minneapolis, not even with a painting of Prince staring me down. Already the Twin Cities seemed too huge, too impossible to explore deeply in our remaining time

I have not met much of Nancy’s extended family, her cousins live across the Southwest and Mountain States, just Alan Todd. Minnesota brought a chance to meet a second Todd cousin. We spent Saturday with Brian, along with wife Michelle and daughters Ayla and Hailey, drove from Rochester to visit see sights across the Twin Cities.

When they arrived we adjourned to the Uptown Diner. Despite a name that could have been a trendy new breakfast hotspot, it was one of those diners that definitely changed little through the decades. That’s for the best – this diner served large plates of breakfast stalwarts, and I went with the Minnesota omelet to get one more fix of wild rice and local sausage. This was a breakfast and brunch place, as we were the lone party in now-closed section. At the front counter, they sold frosted cinnamon rolls large enough to replace a meal.

Horses charge below the capitol dome.

Leaving Minneapolis, we crossed to St. Paul and its massive capitol complex. On the mall below the Minnesota State Capitol, tents of a South Asian festival filled the lawn below the newly restored capitol. A crowd of thousands circulated through the plazas.

The capitol was a hard building to stop staring at, especially the row of charging golden horses affixed to the roof near the dome. Visits to the balcony level below the horses and the governor’s reception room are limited to guided tours, and we arrived 30 minutes before the building closed, leaving us with a short self-guided tour.

Capitol dome rotunda

The marble interiors were staggering. Art filled every quiet corner, along with statues of Minnesota politicians and art installations. Designed by Cass Gilbert - who was responsible for New York City’s Woolworth Building and state capitols in Arkansas and West Virginia -Minnesota’s capitol broke ground in 1898 and opened in 1905 to replace an earlier capitol inadequate for the state’s needs.

A wall of paintings depicted moments in early Minnesota, including a gathering where the territorial government forced indigenous tribes to surrender their lands for promised money they never received. Another display illuminated the flags of remaining tribes and their reservations, a reminder that all 12 remain autonomous nations inside Minnesota. Side galleries hosted works of local artists, including a former Minnesota First Lady whose name escapes me.

Baldachin

St. Paul’s architectural beauty doesn’t end at the capitol. Along with a pretty typical urban skyline, the city boasts a second stately domed building. Less than a mile from the capitol, St. Paul Cathedral’s copper dome soars atop Cathedral Hill. No one needs to be a confirmed Catholic to enjoy a visit to this cathedral, one of the few Catholic churches in the U.S. on equal footing with those in Europe.

More than a century old, St. Paul Cathedral replaced several earlier churches on the same site. Services continued in several side-chapels as tourists circulated around the main chamber. The slightest noise echoed across the vast interior, where dozens of people milled around, surveying the design flourishes and statues. Every surface was photogenic from statues of the apostles to the stained glass and gold leaf decorations under the dome. An ornate baldachin, a ceremonial stone canopy, rose above the altar. In the basement, a glass case guarded a Lego version of the cathedral.

Nancy and I at Spoonbridge and Cherry

On Nancy’s recommendation, we journeyed to the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, series of eclectic public art installations that recently reopened after a two-year renovation. Between renovations at the state capitol and the sculpture garden, we could have been significantly disappointed if we visited the Twin Cities any sooner.

We arrived at the perfect time for an outdoor walk in the late afternoon sun. More than 40 pieces span the park, crowded as expected on a breezy, 80-degree Saturday. As we wound through the park, I tried to enjoy that rare balance of temperature and cool breeze, knowing they inaccessible on Sunday.

Like most first-timers, we started with the Minnesota icon Spoonbridge and Cherry, which features a giant cherry balanced on a giant spoon in the middle of a duck pond.

Hahn/Cock

Few public spaces command such attention. A blue rooster strutted atop a cement plinth (Katharina Fritsch’s Hahn/Cock). A series of brick walls in a field resembled a ruined house on a countryside. In the lone tall tree, artist Pierre Huyghe installed a series of wind chimes to play notes from a classical score by composer John Cage.

The choice for dinner was really impossible to avoid - Matt’s Bar and Grill. It was also around the corner of our rental, so we walked to meet the Todds for one more Twin City highlight.  From its facade, Matt's appeared to be a dive or old-time neighborhood bar, but it was home of the Juicy Lucy and a Minneapolis institution.

A line queues at the entrance for table and bar seating. Diners, Drive-ins and Dives stopped here, as did former President Obama, whose photo with the staff graces the crowded wall. The lone cook worked on a square griddle not much larger than kitchen stove.

While we waited and talked with the Todds, I drank a Grain Belt, a surprisingly tasty, easy-drinking pale American lager (if you don’t believe me, take Deadspin’s word for it). Few burgers come with a warning. Matt’s Juicy Lucy demanded one – let it sit for a few minutes lest the volcanic cheese squeeze from its chamber. Matt’s stays minimal – burgers were served in wax paper. As we wrapped up and the line showed no signed of easing, we exited into the fading day.

As we bid each other goodbye and the Todds returned to Rochester, Nancy and I explored our neighborhood as dusk settled. It was our last chance to roam in Minneapolis.

The Chatterbox Bar and Grill had a lounge and a small bar dining area with deep black vinyl booths. The lounge offered video games to patrons, and in the bar we had our choice of board games. Once I saw Candyland on the list, the choice was clear. Since the game’s simple rules can accommodate children as young as three, we played around a dozen games over the course of some local craft brews.
Stepping into the attic left us to take stock of a last long day and a hectic week, neither of us ready to look away from Minnesota. For a brief spell, we were part of its fabric, enjoying a sparkling end at summer’s end.

By law, all Twin Cities rentals must have Prince wall-art.