11/05/2021
Downtown Saint Joe is hot hot hot!
Heavy Table Churn Newsletter | November 5, 2021 | College Avenue in St. Joseph,....
#3 Morning Bun at Flower and Flour | St. Joseph, Minn.
As a Madisonian born, raised, and educated, I’m deeply schooled on morning buns, those divine cinnamon roll / croissant hybrids that combine the best elements of their heritage into one beautifully coiled, flaky, buttery, cinnamon-rich breakfast confection. The city was crawling with them after the Ovens of Brittany pushed them successfully in the 1980s, leading to a host of mostly also very good imitators. So it is with a lot of authority and emotional conflict that I write that the morning buns at Flower and Flour in St. Joseph are among the very best I’ve tasted - terrifically flaky, intensely and exquisitely spiced, with enough sugar to entertain a sweet tooth without swamping it. Flower and Flour buns also have a tremendous kick of cardamom, non-traditional but totally allowable - it’s a flavor variation that works well with the format. Should you find yourself in St. Joseph, Flower and Flour is a mandatory stop and these buns are a recommended purchase. — James Norton
Becca Dilley / Heavy Table
#2 Coconut Croissant at Mi-Sant Banh Mi Company | Roseville, Minn.
While the coconut croissant at Mi-Sant Banh Mi Company may not be the best classic croissant in the state of Minnesota (as of now, that would probably be Patisserie Marc Heu), it is almost certainly the finest coconut croissant in Minnesota, if not the United States, if not the world. The coconut filling is generous without being excessive, it leads with natural, lightly toasted coconut flavor but absolutely is sweet enough to please, and it shares its goodness generously with all the buttery layers that surround it, neither getting lost in the mix nor clumping up in hard-to-find pockets. It’s truly a thing of beauty, and it’s now a compelling reason for us to drive from Longfellow to Roseville on the regular. — James Norton
James Norton / Heavy Table
#1 The Blue Jay by Deer Creek Cheese | Sheboygan, Wisc.
Juniper isn't something we would've thought to add to a blue cheese like The Blue Jay, but that's why the guys at Deer Creek Cheese are the award-winning experts. The piney bite of juniper berries provides a sharp, gorgeous contrast to the earthy creaminess of this quintuple crème blue, a name that nods to the fact that five 10-gallon cans of cream are added to each vat. Under normal circumstances we'd say the complexity and depth of blue cheese needs no modification, but this is a seriously delightful variation from the norm. Although Deer Creek Cheese is made near Milwaukee, Wisc., we picked up this particular piece of cheese at the co-op in St. Joseph, Minn. — James Norton
IN THE MAGAZINE
Mixologist and martial artist John Fladd celebrates classic fight flicks including Big Trouble in Little China and Shaolin Master Killer in a drinks column called Kung Fu Cocktails. Fladd is a hell of a good writer, and this is a particularly strong effort.
DESTINATION DINE
St. Joseph’s College Avenue
By Amy Rea
Amy Rea / Heavy Table
While checking out St. Joseph’s New Orleans-themed Krewe (The Tap Oct. 1, The Churn Oct. 22), we realized that the town’s main street was home to a robust range of indie eateries. Like most college towns, there are plenty of national chains, but the area around College Avenue has plenty of choices for local dining.
Amy Rea / Heavy Table
We started at Kay’s Kitchen, the kind of diner every town should have. Kay’s kindly offers its full lunch and breakfast menu all day. We took advantage of that to try the Chicken Fried Steak ($11) from the breakfast menu and the German Burger ($10) from the lunch menu. The steak was a solid rendition with a crunchy batter coating a thin but still tender piece of beef. The hash browns that accompanied it were wonderfully crispy, just about perfect. That may explain the repartee going on between the server and an apparent regular who, every time the server appeared, said, “You reminded the cook that the hash browns have to be crispy, right?” (Let’s give a shoutout to the Kay’s staff while we’re at it—they were almost literally running to keep up, but never missed a chance to top off coffee and laugh at jokes they must have heard a million times before.)
The German burger is essentially a Reuben with ground beef and bacon rather than corned beef. The bacon slices were meaty, the Swiss and sauerkraut portions generous, and it was a burger we can get behind (and replicate at home). The bun was soft yet sturdy. The server said they don’t make them there, but they are made locally, although she couldn’t remember the name of the bakery. The fries had a light batter and were perfectly fried, crackling outside and pillowy inside.
Amy Rea / Heavy Table
On the way out, we noticed a chalkboard with various kinds of pies of the day. We took a piece of coconut cream pie ($3) to go, and oh, what a joy that slice was. This kind of pie is often made with standard Jell-O pudding, but Kay’s version was creamier and richer in taste, with plenty of coconut on top. The crust was flaky and tender. We should have bought the whole pie.
Amy Rea / Heavy Table
Closer to St. Benedict's is Bo Diddley’s Deli. From the outside, it looks like it might have once been a bank or a post office, but inside is a cozy cafe that smells like baking bread and a bit of vinegar. Bo Diddley’s menu isn’t large; it’s essentially deli sandwiches and a few pitas. We tried the Combo ($4 for 1/3 sandwich, $5 for ½, $9 for whole) with the works. It wasn’t earth-shaking; a cracked wheat hoagie bun containing corned beef, ham, salami, Swiss-American and provolone cheeses, various veggies, and a housemade oil that was tangy. The bread was fresh, and the sandwich wasn’t one of those multi-inch monsters full of pounds of meat. It was an agreeable sandwich, and a good value for the price.
Amy Rea / Heavy Table
Across from Bo Diddley’s is Sliced, which sells pizzas whole and by the slice, along with assorted bar foods and pastas. We decided to try a standard-type pizza, the Meat Lover’s ($17 for 12”, $20 for 16”), and a more specialized offering, the Dill Pickle ($17 for 12”, $21 for 16”). The crust is a chewy, tender New York-style crust, nicely done (unless you’re a die-hard crispy crust pizza person) [2]. The meat lover’s had a goodly amount of jumbo pepperoni, Italian sausage, bacon and Canadian bacon, with a ton of gooey mozzarella. It felt old-school, in a good way, and something you could imagine college students lapping up.
Amy Rea / Heavy Table
We had high hopes for the dill pickle pizza, thinking it might be reminiscent of the Minnesota State Fair’s fried pickles. The sauce is a housemade ranch that’s serviceable, and more of that luscious mozzarella. The pickles were high-quality, salty koshers that retained a crunch after baking. Overall, this one felt like it lacked something. There was some fresh dill, but it could use more. But it may be that it needs another component altogether to make it more exciting, like meat or seasoned vegetables.
Amy Rea / Heavy Table
Indie meat markets, especially ones that have been around for generations, are nearly always worth stopping at. St. Joseph Meat Market was no exception. This business has been around for almost a century and owned by the same family since 1968. The counters are filled with hearty portions of fresh-looking meats, and there’s a huge cooler filled with nothing but sausages and brats. Among the goodies we found that intrigued us was an item that, at first glance, seemed to be the pork equivalent of a single-use kitchen gadget: Ground bacon ($6/pound). The sign promoting it noted it’s perfect for those times you want a bacon crumble on various foods. But really, how hard is it to fry bacon and crumble it? Worst case, use a food processor, right?
Just like there are some single-use gadgets that are worthwhile, we found that we liked the ground bacon anyway. It fries up in a flash, and yes, it’s already crumbled. It was smokey and meaty (as was the house bacon), and there was some guilty pleasure in not having to do anything more than toss it on salads and soups.
Amy Rea / Heavy Table
The other item was the Funeral Hotdish Brat ($6/pound). This turned out to be a smoked brat with noodles and tomato soup mixed in. While those of us from parts of the state that relied heavily on cream of mushroom soup to make our funeral hotdishes might frown at the tomato soup, it wasn’t bad. The tomato soup added just a little tang, although the noodles were negligible. Still, the brat meat itself was nicely seasoned.
Amy Rea / Heavy Table
Bad Habit Brewing had just kicked off its Oktoberfest celebration, so it was logical to order the Oktoberfest Marzenbier ($10, including the stein). The brewery has an admirably large outdoor space that serves for live music at times, but otherwise is just a great place to hang out in nice weather. The Marzenbier was gentle, almost sweet at first, and a good companion for a cool fall afternoon.
Amy Rea / Heavy Table
Around the corner was Bello Cucina, billing itself as an Italian steakhouse. Steaks were reserved for the dinner menu, while the lunch menu had a surprisingly large and varied pasta menu, with several items available in half portions. But here’s the thing: the majority of these lunch pastas had a common ingredient: Cream. Sometimes just cream, sometimes alfredo, or lemon alfredo, or Cajun alfredo, or tomatoes tossed with cream. We have no actual objection to pasta sauces with cream, except that pasta is one of those dishes that can be done so many ways—why so many cream sauces?
Amy Rea / Heavy Table
We figured we’d better try one with cream and one without. We ordered half portions of the Wild Mushroom Pancetta pasta ($9) and the Spaghetti and Meatballs with Garlic Bread ($9.50). While the pasta was not al dente in either case, it also wasn’t mush. And cream-laden or not, the sauces were both delicious. The mushroom dish was generously loaded with a variety of sauteed wild mushrooms and big chunks of salty pancetta which, admittedly, work beautifully with a cream sauce.
The garlic bread that came with the spaghetti was nothing special. However, the tomato sauce on the pasta was bright and zippy, with what tasted like fresh basil. The meatballs were flat out fantastic, garlicky and herby and coming with a nice char from pan frying before being tossed with the sauce.
Amy Rea / Heavy Table
The final stop was a coffee shop called The Local Blend. The cafe serves housemade baked goods, soups, and stews. We ordered a special drink from the fall drink menu and crossed our fingers it wouldn’t be too sugar-laden. The Sleepy Hollow Mocha ($5) turned out to be just the right amount of sweet, a mocha made with dark chocolate and orange flavoring, and a bit of caramel on top. A pumpkin nut muffin was dairy free, egg free, and gluten free, and had a nice pumpkin flavor. It could have used some other flavoring too (perhaps some nutmeg or cinnamon) but it accompanied the latte well.
Kay’s Kitchen
303 College Ave N
St. Joseph, MN 56374
320-557-0030
Bo Diddley’s Deli
19 College Ave N
St. Joseph, MN 56374
320-363-7200
Sliced
14 College Ave N
St. Joseph, MN 56374
320-557-0500
St. Joseph Meat Market
26 1st Ave NW
St. Joseph, MN 56374
320-363-4913
Bad Habit Brewing Company
25 College Ave N
St. Joseph, MN 56374
320-271-3108
Bello Cucina
16 East Minnesota St
St. Joseph, MN 56374
320-363-4534
The Local Blend
19 W Minnesota Ave
St. Joseph, Mn 56374
320-363-1011
FROM THE HEAVY TABLE KITCHEN
Shrimp Tempura Rolls, Rolling Home
By James Norton
Becca Dilley / Heavy Table
If you asked me to define the taste of home - home being Madison, where I was born, raised, and educated all the way through my run-of-the-mill history degree at the University of Wisconsin - I might talk about the bratwurst served on the Memorial Union Terrace, overlooking Lake Mendota. And that wouldn't be a lie, but it's also an obvious answer that a good 50% of UW-Madison graduates might give you.
If you pushed me further, I might talk about the pizza at Rocky Rococo - not something I'll defend in absolute terms as being great pizza, but a flavor so intertwined with my coming of age that it'll always resonate for me as more than the sum of its greasy, cheesy massiveness. But that too isn't a perfect answer.
The most honest response would probably be the shrimp tempura rolls served at Wasabi, a sushi joint on the second floor of a building just off of State Street. These were one of the first foods I really craved that hailed from something other than a European or European-American background (although you could certainly make a fair case for tempura rolls being more Japanese-American than strictly Japanese). And these are the rolls that I sought out when I came back home, year after year, decade after decade, flying back from Boston or New York, or driving back from Minneapolis-St. Paul.
These rolls are nothing fancy. But they're pure comfort on a plate - warm rice, warm shrimp, a gentle crunch, a bit of richness from Japanese mayo, a bit of gentle snap from the nori. In recent years, after becoming honest with myself about who I am and what I want from life, these rolls were the only thing I'd order when I ate at Wasabi - two orders on most visits, three if I was particularly hungry or verklempt.
I've never found anything quite like them anywhere else - most other places serve their rolls cold and/or loaded up with other random nonsense (cucumbers, etc.) Simplicity is the key here.
Wasabi closed in 2018, and owner Ken Katsuma - who by all accounts was a tremendously warm person, something that came through via the entire vibe of the restaurant - died recently, too. Sometimes when restaurants go, they leave a little hole in your heart, and in mine there's a Wasabi-shaped hole that will never entirely heal up. (See also: Brasserie Zentral, Al Amir Bakery, and Cuco's.)
Fortunately, I've been working on my sushi game over the years, and I've been able to reverse engineer shrimp tempura rolls to an extent that makes me happy, if not as truly welcome and pampered as the Wasabi version could.
Becca Dilley / Heavy Table
SHRIMP 'TEMPURA' ROLLS
2 Cups Sushi rice
2" square of kombu (seaweed, from any Asian market's Japanese section)
1/4 Cup rice vinegar or 3 Tbsp white vinegar
3 1/2 Tbsp sugar
1 1/2 Tbsp mirin plus extra for marinating shrimp
2 1/2 tsp salt
8 oz. large shrimp (fresh or thawed in the fridge from frozen)
1/2 Cup potato starch plus salt and pepper to season
3 Tbsp Japanese mayo (such as Kewpie)
1 Tbsp Sriracha
Toasted sesame seeds for seasoning (black and regular)
Brenda Johnson / Heavy Table
THE RICE:
The really tricky thing about sushi is the rice. If you haven't been making sushi rice for years, it may be challenging. (I have been making it for years, and I still find it challenging, which may be more of a knock on my intelligence than an actual summary of the challenge involved.)
You want your seasoned rice to be pliable and sticky, but not actively wet. The key is introducing enough dressing to the rice while it's hot that it becomes fully flavored and ready for forming, but not overly laden.
Put 2 cups of sushi rice with water (to marked level) into a rice cooker, and add a 2” square of kombu seaweed. Fire that sucker up.
Meanwhile: bring to a boil while stirring rice vinegar (or white vinegar), sugar, mirin, and salt. Make sure the sugar and salt dissolve fully. Let this dressing cool.
When the rice is finished, put it into a large bowl. While hot, stir in a bit less than half of the dressing while fanning the rice and stirring it for a few minutes, until the dressing is incorporated. The rice should be moist but not soggy or pooling dressing at the bottom.
If it can take a bit more dressing, add it and keep fanning. You’re unlikely to use more than 75% of the dressing under any circumstances.
Becca Dilley / Heavy Table
THE SHRIMP:
You can fry your shrimp using a proper tempura batter if you want, or you can take my lazy shortcut - using a mirin soak and dredge in potato starch. The shrimp come out delightfully crispy and taste terrific in the sushi roll.
For my method:
Marinate a handful of large shrimp (fresh or thawed) in mirin. If you want them to be particularly straight in your rolls, you can cut them in half (so they're half as long) and work with shorter pieces.
Bring a thin layer of oil up to a medium high temperature in a frying pan.
Dredge the shrimp in a mixture of potato starch (found at any Asian market) and a light sprinkling of salt and pepper
The shrimp should sizzle when they hit the oil and fry to brown on both sides and pink throughout.
Toss the shrimp with a 3:1 mix of Japanese mayo and sriracha before putting them into sushi rolls. Use only as much hot mayo as you like, the full 4 Tbsp. may be overkill.
Becca Dilley / Heavy Table
THE ASSEMBLY:
Take a half sheet of nori and cover it with a reasonably thick layer of rice. Sprinkle with black and regular sesame seeds. Flip it, add a thin layer of rice with a quarter-inch gap at the top and layer in your dressed shrimp, then roll it up and slice it into rolls.
Becca Dilley / Heavy Table
Watch this video (and others, perhaps) on YouTube before trying this. If you make a dog's breakfast out of it, don't feel bad, you've joined a very large club of people who struggle to finesse this not-super-easy dish. [3] The good news: even if you end up crumpling everything into a rice bowl, it'll still taste really good.
FOOTNOTES
Richard Griffiths in Pie in the Sky
[1] Editor’s Note: While uneven, Pie in the Sky is one of the few existing dramatic shows that appears to have been written by someone with actual culinary knowledge. An early episode features our protagonist, a police inspector who also somehow owns a restaurant, hiring a cook. He chucks one candidate for being far too precious and fancy and another for not knowing much more than microwave-and-packet cookery, settling on a guy (an ex-con, as it happens) who was able to present a good rendition of a classic British meat pie.
The show is also noteworthy for featuring a police detective protagonist who is a) happily married and b) emotionally well adjusted. It’s so much the exception to the rule that it’s delightful, not dull.
[2] Editor’s Note: As I have eaten at Sliced recently, I am going to gently disagree with Amy Rea’s description of its crust as “New York style.” I would describe it more uncharitably as “Papa Murphy’s style.”
[3] Editor’s Note: The only real question when I assemble sushi is: will this look like garbagey homemade sushi rolls (see picture in story), or will it be so unusably bad that it needs to be eaten in the manner of a dingo scavenging roadkill? I persist in making sushi not only because it’s delicious, but because the humbling of my culinary ego that takes place essentially every time I make it is a healthy thing. If I ever perfect the art, I’m going to be insufferable.
What’s that? Fine, even more insufferable.
CORRECTIONS
In the Oct. 22, 2021 edition of the Churn, we erroneously described Livia’s Seasoning Salt as “locally blended.” The company is based in and ships from Minnesota; the product is blended in California.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This newsletter and the entire Heavy Table magazine presence is made possible by you and everyone else who subscribes to our enterprise. We have a couple major backers we’d like to thank, too: Redhead Creamery and Colin McFadden, plus a few more supporters behind the scenes.
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