July 2011

If you’ve been down Minnehaha avenue in the evening lately, just off Lake Street in South Minneapolis, Harriet Brewing Company may have caught your eye. If so, it probably wasn’t because of their building, a nondescript former armored car garage with a front of fluted cement. No, if you noticed them it would have been because of a plain fold-out sidewalk sign featuring two words most of us only see in our fondest dreams: “Free Beer.”

If you haven’t heard of it, Harriet Brewing is the latest addition to the Twin Cities’ local brewing scene, and is for the moment the only operating brewery in Minneapolis proper. A few evenings a week, they’ve been opening up their doors for tastings and tours (gratis as advertised), hoping that folks will drop in, learn a little something, and maybe take home a growler of beer—a half-gallon refillable jug often sold by brew pubs and microbeweries.

(Disclaimer: I am not a scientist, but a storyteller who took way too many science classes in college. I apologize for the lack of scientific terminology presented here, but promise that if you read on, you may learn something...even if it is just what a strange person I am.)

The story of this epic battle begins a couple of years ago in my garden, where so many stories of struggle and hardship begin (notice the drama creeping in already!). Squashes, both winter and summer varieties, are one of my favorite plant families. I love the way they can and do grow anywhere, creeping up fences, under and through my bean plants or just straight across the yard with no concern for the lawn mower.

Not only do these beastly plants entertain with their size and tenacity, they often produce food by the bushel. Then there are the mutants! If you have never experimented with pollinating squash, it can be entertaining.

In an ideal world, the owners of Izzy’s Ice Cream Café, Jeff Sommers and Lara Hammel, say their ice cream would be derived from milk produced by cows at a dairy all their own. Instead, though, they’ve settled on the next best thing. 

Last year, Sommers and Hammel decided to turn to a Columbus, Wis.-based dairy for the mixture of milk, eggs and sugar that serves as the building block for each of the more than 125 flavors they make at their St. Paul shop annually. The move came after a decade of relying on large wholesalers who simultaneously supplied ice cream giants such as Dairy Queen and Culvers, and was prompted by a desire to support a regional, family farm. 

My sister and I just got back from a trip to Paris where we spent our time exploring the city: hopping on the Metro going from one end of the city to another, stopping to walk through parks, gardens and through markets filled with well dressed Parisians. Going to the Market is always one of my favorite things about Paris. There I move from stand to stand wide eyed with delight as I look at many kinds of French cheeses, olives, meats, fish, wines; stands with fresh breads, pastries, little berry tarts. I always gravitate towards the tables overflowing with abundant produce where I stand in silent debate, "should I get the currants, figs or raspberries?" before deciding just to get all three. Then there are the vegetables; the big beautiful leeks, mushrooms, onions, and zucchinis always bring a tinge of sadness because I do not have a kitchen where I can make a delicious French omelet.