Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

The sweet taste of summer in Minnesota June 23, 2010

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Black raspberries ripen on vines in my Faribault, Minnesota backyard.

ALREADY, SPLOTCHES OF PURPLE stain my fingertips. Thorns scratch across my forearms as I ferret for more fruit. My skin itches. Mosquitoes swarm. I pick a hair-thin, squiggling worm from a tiny berry.

Yet, I continue to reach and pluck, reach and pluck, occasionally popping a juicy black raspberry into my mouth. As the seeds crunch against my teeth, as the slightly-tart berries burst upon my tongue, I relish this first taste of summer.

After a long Minnesota winter, these berries tempt my senses. I admire their deep purple, near-black, color. I caress their daintiness, savor their sweetness.

Daily I pick enough berries to fill a small bowl.

Soon I’ve filled a small bowl with the wild morsels that grow on thorny vines tumbling out of the woods next to my backyard.

Later, I’ll toss handfuls onto romaine lettuce I’ve grown. More go into the blender, combined with ice cream and milk for a deep purple shake that bursts with flavor. I mix other berries with vanilla yogurt, bananas and milk to create a healthy smoothie.

But mostly, I grab berries now and then from the bowl that sits on the kitchen counter. Sometimes I wash the raspberries, most often not.

Tomorrow I’ll be back in the berry patch, braving the brambles as I gather this fruit of the earth, these wild black raspberries that taste of sweet summertime in Minnesota.

Wild black raspberries have overtaken a corner of my backyard and I'm just fine with that.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

An asparagus bouquet June 19, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:40 AM
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Fresh asparagus from Twiehoff Gardens in Faribault.

LIKE MOST WOMEN, I love flowers. So I appreciate when my husband unexpectedly, for no reason other than “just because,” picks up a bouquet for me.

The same goes for asparagus.

Right about now you’re likely wondering how I can compare an asparagus spear to a flower.

One, you say, is romantic and a symbol of love.

The other, you argue, is a vegetable, nothing other than food to consume.

However, I don’t define the two quite so concisely. I contend that asparagus, like flowers, can, indeed, express love.

My husband recently proved that. “I have a surprise for you,” he says, handing me a small bundle packaged in a plastic shopping bag.

I peek inside. “Asparagus!” I exclaim before taking his face between my hands and planting a big kiss upon his lips.

I am a happy wife.

He knows how much I have desired garden-fresh asparagus. So he has stopped at Twiehoff Gardens on his way home from work for the vegetable that will satisfy my yearning.

Asparagus may not be roses. But you can bet when I wash, dice, cook and eat that tasty spring treat, I am thinking of my husband and how very happy he has made me with $1 worth of asparagus.

Twiehoff Gardens along St. Paul Road in Faribault offers an abundance of fresh produce.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

“You paid how much for a brat and pop at Target Field?” June 14, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 9:13 AM
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“THAT’S PRICE-GOUGING, or whatever you call it,” I exclaim.

My husband has just revealed that he shelled out $18 for two brats and two soft drinks for himself and our teenaged son at a Minnesota Twins game.

“That’s ridiculous,” I continue to rant. “Who pays that much for a brat and pop?”

Apparently, if you’re a Twins fan (and dare I say here that I really don’t care about sports in general), that’s the price you’ll pay for simple fare to fill your belly.

Let me restate that. A brat and a pop do not fill the stomachs of two hungry guys, especially one who is 16.

Nor do a brat and a soda satisfy a man who would prefer a brat and a beer. But, with beer priced at $7, even my husband could manage to eat a brat sans beer. I didn’t even ask him the price of Tony O’s Cuban sandwich, the food he once told me he would try if he attended a Twins game.

But he did share, seeming a bit miffed, that Leinenkugel beer, brewed across the border in Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin, is grouped at Target Field with beers labeled as “Minnesota-made.”  That appeared to bother him more than the beer price.

So, wanting to direct him off the topic of beer, I inquire about our oldest daughter’s meal. (She has given her dad and brother the $18 tickets as a Father’s Day gift and is attending the game with them.) “Carrots,” he tells me. “She brought a bag of carrots.”

“I thought you couldn’t bring food into the game,” I say, at the same time inwardly applauding my daughter for her healthy food choice.

“She had that big green purse,” he explains.

Ah.

Later, after I check out the Twins Web site, I read that you can take food into Target Field, but only if you eat it in the general seating area. Ditto for a few beverages, that, for obvious reasons, do not include beer—Wisconsin or Minnesota-made.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Faribault losing one classy restaurant with Monte’s Steak House closure June 11, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:44 AM
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WHEN I WON A $25 gift certificate to Monte’s Steak House at the Faribault Business Expo and Community Showcase in late April, I told my husband, “We better use this before the place closes.”

I should have heeded my own advice.

Monte’s forced to close, a front page headline in this morning’s Faribault Daily News screamed at me.

“Oh, no,” I uttered to no one because no one was around to witness my surprise, even though this wasn’t really a surprise.

Monte’s has been plagued with issues from the get-go and has closed at least once, if not twice (I can’t recall details), during its several years in Faribault. Most recently, the property went in to foreclosure and was purchased by a Northfield bank.

The current tenant, apparently, has had enough and is opting out of signing a month-to-month lease on the building, the story reports.

For the community of Faribault, the closing of Monte’s represents, in my opinion, the loss of a restaurant that offered great cuisine in a classy atmosphere. Some locals even compared Monte’s to “restaurants you would find in the Cities.” I wouldn’t know; I’ve never dined in the metro except at a chain restaurant or two.

But at Monte’s, I sampled food other than battered, deep-fried everything that seems typical fare in these parts. Not a steak-lover, I stuck mostly to the pastas and was never disappointed.

When my second daughter and I last ate at Monte’s on St. Patrick’s Day, I savored a superb salad laced with locally-made blue cheese, toasted pecans, strips of grilled chicken and dried cranberries topped with a maple dressing. Crusty bread served with a garlic-infused olive oil and balsamic vinegar (or maybe it was garlic-infused balsamic vinegar and olive oil) dipping sauce accompanied our meals. I even tried crab cakes for the first time, sampled from my daughter’s seafood pasta platter.

Monte’s initially promoted itself as an upscale restaurant, and that may have attributed to the attitude among many locals that the food was too high-priced. Admittedly, I am frugal to the point that I typically order only water while dining out. And I don’t dine out all that often because, as I said, I’m frugal. So for me to dine at Monte’s means the prices were not, for the most part, unreasonable.

In addition to the unique food offerings, I also appreciated the atmosphere of this historic building, basking in the lovely wooden floors, luxurious leather booths, exposed brick walls and large windows.

Cloth napkins and hefty, real silverware added to the class of Monte’s. Dining here was an experience.

I’ll have one last opportunity to enjoy Monte’s. After I donned my eyeglasses so I could read the entire news story and not just the Monte’s forced to close headline, I learned, thankfully, that the restaurant will be open until June 18. That gives me exactly one week to get my butt downtown and use that $25 gift certificate.

I may even order a glass of wine. After all, my meal will be on a Faribault realtor’s dime and not mine.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Apple blossoms May 28, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:26 AM
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MY FRIEND MIKE has an apple orchard. It’s not an active orchard, meaning he doesn’t market his apples. He shares them with family and friends.

The orchard came with the house he bought in the country some years back.

On a recent spring night after I arrive at Mike’s house for bible study, he gives me a tour of his yard. He’s a former floral designer/business owner and we share an interest in flowers and plants.

As is typical, I have my camera with me.  As we walk, I notice that the sinking sun has cast a certain surreal softness upon the land. The lighting in the orchard is perfect.

So I snap this photo of apple blossoms that will grow into apples, which Mike will pick, then peel and slice into a pan and cover with a crunchy rolled oats topping hinting of cinnamon.

And then my friend will place a square of apple crisp upon a plate, add a scoop of vanilla ice cream and hand the treat to me.

Then I will remember this beautiful spring evening when apple blossoms held the promise of harvest, and of apple crisp.

Apple blossoms on an evening in May.

Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

For the love of homemade sausages, smoked meats and more April 19, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 12:05 PM
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Pekarna's Meat Market, famous for homemade sausage, is a popular stop in historic downtown Jordan.

MINNESOTANS LOVE THEIR small-town meat markets.

In the Mankato/New Ulm area, Schmidt’s Meat Market draws locals and travelers alike off busy U.S. Highway 14 into its Old World shop in tiny Nicollet. Famous for its German style summer sausage, the meat market continues operation as a third-generation family business begun in 1947 by Gerhardt and Esther Schmidt.

Although I’ve never been to Schmidt’s, I’ve heard only great comments about the meat. The next time I head west, I’ll have to check out this popular stop.

In my area, Nerstrand Meats & Catering, in the even smaller town of Nerstrand—about 230 people compared to Nicollet’s 900—is the go-to place for meat. Here, the double smoke hams are the specialty at this fourth-generation family business founded in 1890.

I’ve eaten meat from the Nerstrand meat market and can attest to its outstanding flavor and quality.

The same goes for Pekarna’s Meat Market, another fourth-generation, family-owned business that I discovered while visiting Jordan in the southwest metro a month ago. Actually, I should credit my husband, Randy, for finding this delightful butcher shop/retail store. While I was wandering around looking at buildings in this historic Minnesota River town, he aimed straight for the meat market.

Current fourth-generation owner Greg Pekarna’s great grandfather started the business 117 years ago. It is clear to me that Pekarna’s has got a good thing going here, a conclusion I drew upon seeing the long line of customers waiting at the retail counter on a Thursday afternoon in late March.

Two customer favorites at Pekarna's Meat Market.

Customer favorites at Pekarna’s include smoked pork sausage, ring bologna and baby back ribs. Randy picked up brats and bacon. When I microwaved the bacon, I didn’t even have enough grease to sauté onions for the potato soup I was preparing. Now that’s something. As for the brats, I am not a brat fan, but Randy may convince me to try a Pekarna’s brat.

Greg Pekarna behind the counter at a meat market with old-fashioned, kitschy charm.

While at Pekarna’s I chatted a bit with Greg and his friendly employee Sandy Schmitz. I thought, initially, that they were the married co-owners. When I stated as such, the two burst into laughter and Greg joked that would not work, except he said this in stronger words which I won’t repeat here.

Speaking of words, I noticed two signs in German behind the meat counter: “Wilkommen Pekarna’s Meat” and “Jawohl Gute”

I asked for the English translation of Pekarna, assuming it is of German origin. Wrong. Perkarna means “bakery,” in Czech, Greg tells me. Like I said earlier, this guy has a sense of humor.

And like many small-town Minnesota butchers, Pekarna offers high-quality products and great customer service, trademarks that have allowed his business to survive and thrive for more than a century.

Have you discovered a great small-town meat market like Pekarna's Meat Market?

IF YOU HAVE a favorite small-town meat market, submit a comment to Minnesota Prairie Roots. Tell us why this is a favorite stop. Do you like the sausage, the brats, the bacon? Let’s hear your testaments to small, family-owned meat markets.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The proper Minnesota Jell-O April 12, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 11:00 AM
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My friend Kristin made peach Jell-O in a pan.

IN MINNESOTA, WE have hotdish. Not casseroles.

We have lutefisk and lefse and food-on-a-stick.

And then we have Jell-O.

Truly, I thought Jell-O was a thing of the past, even in Minnesota.

But Kristin proved me wrong. She brought a pan of gelatin to Family Game Night at Trinity Lutheran Church on Saturday.

I’ve seen Jell-O made in bowls—even layered in bowls—and shaped into shapes in molds. I’ve seen Jell-O elevated to a plate of honor during a production of How to Talk Minnesotan at the Plymouth Playhouse. But I’ve never seen gelatin in a glass cake pan.

But Kristin, the theatrical type, proved that Minnesotans can get creative with their Jell-O by thinking outside the box inside the box (er, cake pan).

She even stirred peaches into her peach Jell-O and topped it with the ultimate in Jell-O toppings—marshmallows.

And then, sin of sins, she cut the thickened concoction into squares. Doesn’t she know that Minnesotans, or maybe it’s just Lutherans, prefer to dish up their Jell-O with a spoon? We are not the show-off type, you know, serving up fancy Jell-O squares.

But Kristin, as I suggested, fails to conform to conformity. She sometimes makes cranberry Jell-O and adds cranberries.

Did you know Jell-O comes in cranberry flavoring? I didn’t. I thought the flavors were strawberry, strawberry and strawberry.

Did you know, too, that you can actually ruin Jell-O? My friend confessed that she once did just that by adding too much water.

Oh, Kristin, Kristin, Kristin. Perhaps you should stick with the old standby Minnesota Jell-O recipe: Add sliced bananas to partially-thickened strawberry Jell-O.

If you want to get creative, top your bowl full (not pan full) of Jell-O with Cool Whip.

But for gosh sakes, Kristin, please serve your potluck Jell-O with a spoon, not some fancy serving utensil.

A slice of Kristin's peach Jell-O.

DO YOU HAVE ANY interesting stories to share about Jell-O? I’d love to hear yours. So submit a comment to Minnesota Prairie Roots, even if you are a conservative Minnesota Lutheran.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling