1. Where will you go when the volcano blows: The Parrot’s Cay

When you’re pining for the tropics in the depths of winter but can’t swing a trip to the Bahamas or Key West, head to this quirky establishment tucked behind a gas station off South Washington.  (1149 36th Ave S 11th St).  Parrot Heads abound here, and once a year there’s a Parrot Head party. (Jimmy Buffet has yet to show but hope springs eternal, dontcha know.)

ATTENTION WING LOVERS: The Parrot’s Cay is a favorite in town. Try their wings with “shark sauce” (BBQ and ranch dressing). But if you like your wings the way I like my men, really hot – go for #40 –then call the Fire Department.  Or maybe you’re looking for crawfish. Say whaat? In North Dakota?  You came to the right place.  Mind you, crawfish – or as the menu calls them “crawdads,” – have their season, so these guys might be on the small side. But get a plate of jambalaya and hush puppies to share, down it with a pint or a pop, and y’all be drawlin’ in no time.

Tip: Go early on the weekends because this little hole in the wall fills up quickly.  Oh, and check out the bathrooms.  Apparently, everyone wants to be a writer. Sheesh.

 

2. Give me mo’, mo’, mo’ choices: Mo’s Café 

Heading north on Washington, on your left behind Sonic, you’ll notice a mall.  Locals, depending on their age, call it the K-mart Mall – even though K-Mart is long gone – or The Grand Cities Mall, or the Hope Church mall, or maybe the Rydell antique car mall – anyway — you can’t miss it. Turn at 17^th. You can park in the lot on the Washington side and enter through the mall’s doors.

Just off to your right you’ll find Mo’s Café. “Mo” took over the long-time greasy spoon “Del’s” – and we were sad to see Del go, but happy when we saw Mo’s menu. It’s an eclectic spread that you’re not going to find at your average franchise. Pastrami hash, Scotch eggs, pistachio-crusted walleye, anyone? Or try the vegetarian wu-ben: “thinly sliced seitan corn beef – made in house- layered on toasted rye-bread, with kimchi cabbage, melted Swiss, and thousand island”.  Holy, schlamoly, this ain’t your grandpa’s café! However, if your grandpa is with you, he’ll enjoy one of their juicy hamburgers or one of their omelets. If Grandpa is from New Orleans, he might try the Shrimp Po’boy.  And if Grandma is from Havana, she might like the Cubano.  Did I say Mo’s has an eclectic menu?

 

3. Oo la la: The French Taste Creperie

If you’re a professional eater like me, you might still have some room left after eating at Mo’s, or you could just pause this gastro adventure and return to The Grand Cities/a.k.a. K-mart Mall another day. But you definitely need to pop into Ferguson’s Books, the only indie bookstore in town, and eat some crepes. Wait, what? Crepes in a bookstore?

Warren Sai is the proprietor and crepe mastermind behind The French Taste, a little café tucked behind the used paperbacks and new releases. Originally from France, Warren is a young entrepreneur who began selling and serving his crepes at the Grand Forks Farmers Market in summer. Next, he’d do pop up events around town. This is his first indoor space with a half-dozen or so tables. He also opened up a shop downtown this year and is open late for those who have a two a.m. snack attack. You can order a savory crepe: shrimp, chicken, or salmon. But the sweet traditional is my go-to: fruit, chocolate, and whipped cream. The fresh fruit balances the oozing, warm chocolate – and you can say you ate healthy.

The French Taste also sells lattes and cappuccinos, but the chai tea is to DIE for – so creamy, so good, so – worth the wait. Yes, you need to be patient. Crepes take time to prepare, so bring a friend, or buy a book, and enjoy The French Taste in the Forks.

Tip: They also make and sell homemade macarons. You’re welcome.

 

4. I like street tacos, and I cannot lie: El Gordito

El Gordito, tucked away in yet another mall – The Columbia Mall off of – you guessed it – Columbia Road – is waiting with a smile and a street taco with your name on it.

I can’t get enough of these delicious tacos. You can go ground beef or, like me, order beef asada with fresh cilantro. Oh, yeah. You can go with the flour tortilla or, like me, the corn. Homemade, verdad.

People also rave about El Gordito’s pork tamales. Or maybe you want to try the cheek barbacoa?  How about tongue – taco lengua?  Not that adventurous? I hear ya (see #6). There are burritos and enchiladas, and even a taco salad.

Orlando Carpano opened the stall in the Columbia Mall after successfully running El Gordito in Crookston, MN for twelve years. Staff shortages caused him to close that location. Crookston’s loss, Grand Forks’ gain. Orlando works alongside his mother Julia, affectionately known as Mama. Everything is made from scratch, so don’t expect fast food. The Mexican and Salvadorian dishes are made with love, people. Love.

5. Dine Food Dakota Style: Northside Café 

A “café” in North Dakota is a lot like a diner in Jersey. It’s a place where you can get comfort food in large portions. The Northside Café moved after 14 years, from its bustling street on Gateway to its new location tucked next to the Ralph Englestad Hockey Arena.

The décor is a little incongruous when you look at the extensive home-cooked staples on the menu. This café/diner is in a former sports bar; there’s dark wood, high-tops, and mounted TVs. There’s a full bar, too. There’s also a lot of space between the tables, so if it’s privacy and eggs you want, you’ve found it at The Northside.

And, oh yeah, I found Disco Fries on the menu, although they don’t call them that. Disco Fries are a late night-diner staple. You eat them to help head off a hangover. The Northside’s portion was so large that I had it for lunch and dinner.

(And we’ve established that I’m a professional eater.) Yep, it was that big. (Wait – maybe I was supposed to share? Oops.)

What are Disco Fries?  Well, usually they’re crinkle cut fries, the better to catch the gravy and mozzarella they’re covered in – kind of like poutine. The Northside upped their Disco Fries with chili and cheese. Excellent.

My dining companion, K.K., ordered another diner staple: The patty melt.  It was a thin burger with onions and cheese between toasted bread, accompanied by two balls. We thought the balls were mashed potatoes, but since they were both bathed in gravy, K.K. was surprised to discover one was stuffing and one potatoes. Quite a hearty meal. You can expect this. plus a no-nonsense waitress and great prices at The Northside Café.

6. I’ll have what she’s having: DogMahal

In the movie When Harry Met Sally, there’s the famous scene with Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal in Katz Deli, which serves amazing New York hot dogs and pastrami on rye. “Sally” is dramatically explaining – uh — something to “Harry,” and after her exuberant outburst, an older woman, played by Estelle Reiner the director’s mother, turns to the waiter and says, “I’ll have what she’s having.”

Now, I won’t promise that the hot dogs at DogMahal are that special, but you and I are going to find out together – today.

DogMahal is located on the beaten path – South Washington. Yes, it’s in plain sight on a major avenue in Grand Forks, but you might mistake it for a record and comic shop – because it is. But this would be an egregious error. The gourmet hot dogs are sold inside next to the vinyl in Ojata Records store.

Another local entrepreneur, Jeremy Swisher, opened his comics and record shop downtown where he had one of those small hot dog carts you see out on the street in Jersey and New York. However, he moved to this roomy location on the corner of Washington and University a few years ago. The location has allowed him to host local musicians, and it’s quite the scene on a Friday and Saturday night. It’s a great under-21 hang out, but old punk rockers and thirty-somethings enjoy the vibe, too. Swisher recently started throwing waffle brunches accompanied by a live band on Saturdays.

But this isn’t about the waffles. It’s about dogs. I grew up in New Jersey loving the “dirty water dogs” sold beneath a blue Sabrett’s umbrella. Those hot dogs had a snap when you bit into them that could never be captured at home. I don’t know if it was the dirty water or the Sabrett’s all beef, but ever since moving west, I’ve been in search of that elusive hot dog “snap”. So, for this, my last off-the-beaten path foodie stop, that long unfulfilled dream of the perfect dog flickered once again in my breast – well, okay, my gut. So, today, with a storm on the horizon and this blog deadline looming, I pulled into the lot.

I wasn’t sure which door to go in, so I went in the Washington side door. I have lived here long enough to remember when it was a Kinkos, followed by a mom-and-pop video store, which was bought out by Blockbusters – which, of course, went out of business. Ironic that the current shop sells – videos!

Jeremy was behind the counter cooking, and a customer was chowing down in a red vinyl upholstered booth, while another one strolled among the racks of records.

All I really wanted was a hotdog with sauerkraut, but the sign over the counter had about twenty different hot dogs with toppings. I took a picture. See?  Jeremy asked me what I wanted.

For the record, I don’t know him – just “of” him ‘cause he’s kind of famous because of his cool store and the way he creates community among musicians in town.

Given the long list of hot dog toppings, I was a little embarrassed, but I said, “An all-beef hotdog.” I felt dumb. I didn’t want a curry dog or one with peanut butter.  So, with my coolest, hippest voice I added, “With sauerkraut.”  Then a flicker of panic: “Do you have sauerkraut?”

Jeremy smiled and said, “Yeah, plenty. Anything else?”  He looked kinda hopeful, like I’d ask for anchovies or something.

“Mustard.”

I know. I’m a wild woman.  But Jeremy nodded and smiled, and I felt affirmed.  Yes. This was the way to enjoy a hotdog. Simple. Elegant. All those other toppings on his menu? Those were for infidels who didn’t appreciate the allure of the barely dressed dog. Jeremy got me. And hopefully, this dog would snap when I bit into it.

As Jeremy prepared this unpretentious meal, I looked around the shop. There were treasures everywhere, too many to elaborate here. (Plus, I’m pretty sure I am over my word limit.) *editor’s note: She was, indeed, over her word limit. But sometimes a good story is worth it. I snuck a couple of photos, feeling very uncool. Then my food was ready. I got a soda with it and sat at a booth to dig into my dog.

Jeremy wasn’t kidding. It was overflowing with sauerkraut. Somewhere under all that wonderful kraut was a dog.  Yes! It was a good-sized wiener. Not the skinny kind like the “dirty water dogs” in Jersey. It was brat-sized. I opened wide, salivating, hoping I’d found the Holy Grail of frankfurters in my adopted town – took a bite, and –

No snap.

Oh, there was a little push back against my front teeth, but no snap, folks. It was, however – delicious! I had to slow myself down from simply slurping it. It was salty and hot doggy and had the perfect bun to dog ratio and the mustard was the perfect complement – just a touch of “zing.” Bravo, Jeremy. I will be back to try the Italian sausage with peppers. I am also curious about the Marie Curie. But peanut butter, dude? Really?!

As I drove home, I pondered the lack of a snap. Maybe the snap comes from the hot dogs sitting in the dirty water all day. And maybe, just maybe, the absence of that snap is a good thing.