Jordan "Birdface" S.'s Profile

Novelties come and go in this town, so I always feel obligated to try out the new dough nut or cupcake shop as soon as it opens. I got into Lynden's their opening week and the line for this ice cream delicacy was out the door on a cool 50 degree day.

I could see why. The prices are extremely affordable, the flavors interesting (Kitty Kitty Bang Bang and Zanzibar) and they had vintage treats like Egg Creams and Phosphates. Not only that, but they make their own signature sodas. I decided to try out the Hibiscus (grownup cherry) flavored soda with a good old-fashioned scoop of vanilla ice cream. It was magnificent how they posed the scoop over the edge of the classic soda fountain glass (though I mess when I tried to push the ice cream into the soda).

They also have a wall of vintage candies and hand-made caramels that rival that of Sugar Sugar in Minneapolis. Well worth traveling over the river for Lynden's.

Arlie has been my best friend for almost five years. He's helped me survive some of the biggest trials of my adult life. If it wasn't for the empathy and compassion he taught me for all living things, I would have never became a vegetarian. I would have never rescued my second dog, Etta, from that puppy mill.

Arlie has changed my life.

So when the University of Minnesota Veterinary Medical Center told me Arlie may never walk again, I felt like I had failed my ten pound friend. Arlie, a miniature dachshund, had ruptured a disc in his spine and lost the use of his hind legs. My other vet assured me that he would get better with crate management like my other dog Etta had over the summer, but his conditioned relapsed and I decided I had to go to the only Neurology Center for small animals in the state. When I brought him in, four weeks after his initial injury, they told me I had waited too long.

I reluctantly left him in their care. He cried as I said goodbye to him. I left him a toy that he had stuffed in the crate I brought him in with. I was so nervous that when I got Arlie back he'd be in so much pain and have to suffer for weeks just to get back the minimal use of his legs.

I can't tell you how astonishing it was to see him, with his little back shaved and a six inch incision on his back, walking to me the next day. He was walking. They said he might never walk again, but damnit, he wasn't missing a step. He was obviously doped up, but Dr. Robles had worked a miracle on the poor pup that was condemned to a wheel cart.

It was expensive. Very. I luckily have Healthy Paws Pet Insurance which is helping me with the costs of Arlie's surgery, but I wouldn't second guess the cost ever again in my life. And while we're currently undergoing the pains of recovery, Arlie is more and more himself every day. I know if he could, he'd curse me for keeping him in the crate while he heals and thank Dr. Robles and her wonderful team for giving him the ability to enjoy a walk again.

I was extremely enthusiastic about Donut Cooperative since I first saw their Kickstarter. Told all my friends. Coworkers. Etc. And I collected a large group last Sunday to try it out. Alas, they were closed. I knew it was closed on Mondays, but their second weekend open and they were closed on a Sunday? And the excuse on the door: they needed rest. Well, I get tired on my "Fridays" but I still show up when I'm expected. Especially when I'm two weeks into a new job.

I'm reluctant to try it out as many people say that they have few varieties remaining in the mid morning (when I get up on the weekend). And they don't have enough ready for you to get a dozen or two for the office.

We stood at a crossroads. I mean, a little more specifically, we stood at the intersection of 29th and Johnson. Eat at Amici's or Hazel's. I've been meaning to eat at Hazel's for awhile, but Jesse turned up her nose. She had had one too many disappointments, so we ventured into Amici's.

The atmosphere is pleasant. Black and white movies play silently on a couple of television screens hanging from a wall. They seem a little out of place, but the service is pleasant and they'll bring another basket of warm bread if you ask.

Black barley risotto. Don't look at another menu item. It's $14 and everything else is around that price too so you don't need to consider anything else. Just order it. Sweet and savory and a perfect portion. And a half glass of wine. It's almost full and cheaper.

One day I'll try Hazel's and it will probably be the day Amici's takes the risotto off the menu.

My Arlie is a barker. So is my Etta. These miniature dachshunds terrorize my block sometimes. And I genuinely feel bad. So when a friend suggested that I try a Thundershirt (http://www.thundershir...) and the concept didn't sound too ridiculous, I traveled to Bone Adventure, a local retailer that carries them.

I decided to get only one at first, try it out on my bigger barker, Arlie. The girl working the counter helped me fit Arlie for the Thundershirt. We walked around the store in our Thundershirt, sniffing all the wares, but Arlie kept looking out the shop door and barked incessantly at a flag blowing in the wind in Surdyk's parking lot. Not a good sign. I purchased it anyways and thought it might work on the second try.

I also picked up handfuls of treats and rawhide to Arlie's delight. And when we returned home to Etta, they gobbled them up without tasting. Arlie looking handsome, yet uncomfortable, in his new Thundershirt. Life was good.

After sometime, Arlie's demeanor didn't improve with his new fitted clothing item. He still barked, but less at ease with life than before. It failed to deter him and Etta was suffering from a spinal injury so I didn't want to try the pressure shirt on her. So I had to do what I hate doing most: returning an item to a local business. It was within the product's 45 day guarantee and the clerk took it back with sympathy that it didn't work for me. No hassle, just genuine questions of interest about my experience using the product. I grabbed another handful of treats.

While my dogs don't need $20 collars or clothing or booties, I will stop in there whenever I'm on East Hennepin to pick up a handful of special treats because of their excellent service.

If I could and not gain a single pound and atrophy from missing all other required nutrients, I would eat bread and olive oil for every single meal. So I nearly wet my vintage dry-clean-only dress when I saw Black Paw's station. What? Granola? Puff pastry? Photobooth? Fancy soda with gin? Uh huh... BREAD WITH OLIVE OIL. Whut?! YES!

I think I may have scared the hell out of them with my enthusiasm. I wanted a business card. None? Wtf? Brochure? None? Wtfx2? Okay, there's a Facebook page. I whipped out my iPhone fast enough to churn their fancy, flavored honey butter. LIKED! I then interrogated the poor girl long enough to discover they have a CVA and requested to be put on an email list.

A short hour later, I left Black Paw's table only to be tracked down by them near the close of the evening. Did I want to take a loaf home? DUHSAUCE. I handsomely tipped them and left the evening with a delicious loaf of Wild Rice, Garlic & Rosemary.

Other things happened at Ye Olde Yelp Picnic, but I'm too busy meticulously counting the seconds before the Midtown Farmer's Market opens on Saturday so I can purchase some more Black Paw Community Bakery bread.

When I saw the invite said plaid, flannel and No Fear t-shirts, I thought to myself, well Jordan, just dress how you usually do because obviously Annie has mistaken "Up North" for "Hipster Trash". Flannel would be next to impossible due to the heat, but I managed to find my 90s denim vest, a v-neck t-shirt that I could knot at my waist and a pair of capris (what, it was hot) and biked to the good (new) Republic.

Republic's staff was more than accommodating as they always are. The food was all the highest quality and in great supply. The photo booth let us play as long as we wished. And I could not get enough of the whiskey drinks (delicious Montreal Mules). I'm thinking of hunting this Spicebox Whiskey down and foresake my traditional Sailor Jerry.

Annie, it was a delightful event and cannot wait until the next. Thank you!

I groaned audibly when my boyfriend told me that we were meeting with some of his old friends. Not because we were going to hang out with them, but because they chose The Ecopolitan as our destination.

I'm a vegetarian who loves trying new things, but when I think about a meal prepared solely in a blender, I start pinching my nose like a child sentenced to stay at the table until all the peas have disappeared from his or her plate. I wish this was an entry that does that 180 about how they surpassed my expectations and I'm now a convert, but...

:-P

We got there and it was packed. Not because there were raging amounts of guests there, but rather a poor layout. We were casted-off to a patio that appeared to be on the neighboring business' property, where a server wasn't sent until someone went inside and reminded them that we were seated there. I was wearing an expensive white skirt and had to ask them to bring a chair from the inside out to us as the patio furniture had a layer of dirt/dust/hippie neglect on it. The official server apparently never came as well and we were given someone from the kitchen to help us who reminded us every time she stopped by that she was not a server.

The particular day we chose happened to be around 91 degrees so you can imagine my dissatisfaction when water was brought out and it was lukewarm. "It's healthier." Eff that, it's sweltering and we've been condemned to this crappy patio/mosquito nest. Gimme ice.

My date and I decided to share (mostly because I made sure to eat a very late lunch knowing we were coming here) a coconut smoothie and the rawvioli. The smoothie was lukewarm as well. It was okay. When the rawvioli came out, well, the best thing about it was the spinach side salad. The rawvioli itself had the texture of lettuce and was tasteless. The only essence of the flavor I remember was something like french salad dressing, which is not what the menu promised.

We decided to try a coconut cream pie after because my date is lactose-intolerant and rarely gets such a treat. It was the only good thing I ate there. I recommend trying it. Even if it looks ugly and gray. It tastes like a not watered-down version of the smoothie.

In summary: if you want raw, go to a comedy club. If you want dinner, go somewhere else.

My fabulous friend, Jonathan, scanned the interior of the Dresden Room and said,

"This table needs a shrimp cocktail. Right here. For the atmosphere."

When I was 21, I received a nickname for my eating habits (no, this isn't the description of John Water's Pecker). I was given the moniker of "Birder" since I had a bird-like appetite. I have never finished an entree meal at a restaurant.

Until this year. Maybe my stomach is expanding in my old age and this is the beginning of the end of my metabolism, but when Barbette's asparagus & sugar snap pea risotto arrived in front of me. I expected leftovers like usual.

It was sensational. Too hot, but I didn't care. I took down each bite even though my mouth began to blister with pleasure. I couldn't consider stopping until every parmesan crisp was gone. It wasn't too creamy. It was slightly sweet. It was delicious.

My date ate his roasted kadejan chicken with polenta cake. He called it fancy, healthier KFC. He ate every bite as well. I had to fight all my vegetarian beliefs. I succeeded, but the aroma alone was almost enough to convert me.

It's a spendier place. While I am convinced that I ate every bite because of the pure splendor, I think the meal sizes are smaller than a normal restaurant. Though I might mention that there is nothing wrong with responsible portions.