Week 25: Psycho Suzi's (Minneapolis, MN)

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist or even a calendar publisher to recognize that I am woefully behind in documenting our journey of eating pizza every week.  There are lots of reasons for the delay between pizza consumption and blog posting – some which even fall into the category of “damn good excuse” and others which simply point out my fundamental weakness, which is I am an Olympic-level procrastinator.

As I sat down this morning to pen my review of our week 25 destination, Psycho Suzi’s, my Catholic guilt set in.  Forgive me readers, for I have sinned.  It has been four weeks since my last blog entry.  I accept whatever penance you see fit.  Of course, I should point out that only one reader has actually inquired about the status of the pizza blog – but out of respect for that one, lonely dear reader, I forced myself to crank up the ipod, hum a little Air Supply, and blog my little heart out.

Week 25 feels like a lifetime ago . . . and in many ways, it was.  We were entering a new calendar year, full of promise and resolutions to make this our best year ever.  The hubby and I made plans to drop those last ten pounds, get our collective hypertension under control, and be better human beings.  I vowed that 2014 would be the year I finally stop chewing my fingernails like a rabid termite.  We made well-intentioned to-do lists, we checked them twice, and we were off to a great start to the year.  

Life had other plans, though, and we hit our first hurdle of 2014 when my father-in-law and next-door-neighbor (this is the same person) had a heart attack in January.  For those that haven’t met Leo, he’s a 76 year old dude who never stops moving.  He gets more done by lunchtime than most people half his age.  Six weeks ago, he was still working as an electrician, shoveling his own snow, and driving most of us batty with his incessant storytelling.  He hadn’t taken so much as an aspirin in years and proudly boasted that he hadn’t seen a doctor in at least six years. 

When he was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance, we were shocked.  (He was pissed.)  When we learned that he needed a triple bypass and valve repair, we were stunned.  And life as we knew it changed.  Suddenly, we were taking care of my hubby’s parents – driving them to appointments, making sure they had groceries, filling prescriptions, and trying to keep everyone in good spirits.  We were all scared and trying to pretend that it wasn’t at all strange to have our roles shifted overnight, where the kids are taking care of their parents.  I don’t think anyone can prepare you for when this day comes.  And for anyone who has met either my husband or my in-laws, I think you can imagine how stressful this experience was on everyone.

One might argue that hanging out at Methodist Hospital would have provided me ample opportunity to blog about pizza.  Well . . . I suck.  So there’s that.  But let me tell you about week 25.

As previously mentioned, the hubby and I set some ambitious goals for ourselves in the new year.  To jump start our weight loss, we decided to give the DASH diet a try.  The first phase of the DASH diet is a two week detoxification process, where you wean yourself off of all the delicious things that made your ass big in the first place, like carbs and sugar.  After two weeks of eating grilled chicken and salad – whereby my hubby lost nearly ten pounds and I lost 0.1 pounds – we were looking forward to our pizza date the way kids look forward to Christmas morning.

So . . . we got into the hubby’s expensive German automobile and headed to NE Minneapolis to Pyscho Suzi’s Motor Lounge. According to their website, “Psycho Suzi’s is many things – a hideout for shady characters, a rest stop on the way to oblivion, a destination for bachelorette parties and nefarious conspiracies alike.  But mostly it’s an updated tiki bar for a crass and cynical age . . . “ 

Pre-Pizza Moods:

Nary a carb had passed either of our lips in 14 days.  The very thought of pizza made us giddy with glee.  Pre-pizza moods hovered around a perfect ten.

Parking Situation and Exterior Appearance:

Oh, Psycho Suzi’s.  It’s not entirely your fault that your very address at 1900 Marshall Street NE in Minneapolis causes me to shudder every time I drive by.  It’s just the post-traumatic stress disorder kicking in.  You see, Suzi, I am old.  In fact, I’m so old that I remember when you were Gabby’s Saloon.  And since I am old enough to have committed the majority of my stupid activities before there were cell phones, Facebook, and Instagram, you’ll have to use your imagination to visualize the kind of stupid that haunts me nearly 20 years later.

Needless to say, I might be biased but this is one of the ugliest damn buildings I’ve ever seen.  It was ugly when it was Gabby’s and it ain’t much better now.  The parking situation is also horrendous.  Suzi’s has the capacity to hold a lot of tiki-drink loving pizza eaters, but they lack the parking infrastructure to accommodate them all.  The lot is every man, woman and child for themselves and the on-street parking isn’t much better.  You couldn’t pay me to attempt parking in this vicinity.

Ps. It still looks like Gabby’s to me from the outside.  Or an old VFW.  Just sayin’.

Entrance/Welcome:

Depending on what time of day you arrive, your greeting may be different.  During the day, you’ll be welcomed and directed to a place to sit and eat.  At night, you may be carded at the door and if it’s crowded, you’ll wait.  And wait. 

Clientele/Overall Vibe:

People of all ages love this place.  Apparently, pale-skinned, chubby Midwesterners are really into tiki bars.  Who knew?  You’ll see hardcore drinkers, hipster doofuses, locals, couples, babies, tattoo freaks, Republicans, and everything in between. The people watching here is AMAZING. 

In warm weather, Suzi’s also boats a huge riverfront patio, which is dog friendly (plus).  Since we only get about four nice days a year here, the patio is a raving hit with most patrons.  I’m less than enthralled since their riverfront overlooks what appears to be a garbage dump and a recycling plant, so it’s not exactly picturesque.  But maybe you’re not a stickler for aesthetics like I am.

Wait Staff:

To work at Suzi’s, you pretty much need to be a hipster.  The more piercings, tattoos, and ironic accessories you sport, the more you’ll fit in.  I’m not judging, mind you, simply pointing out that while it appears each member of the wait staff takes pride in their individual expression, they actually all kind of look the same to me.  Sorry, hipsters.  I can’t tell you apart.

Our server was exceptional.  She kept our drinks full, made menu recommendations, and didn’t mock us for licking the platter clean.

Menu Selection:

Psycho Suzi’s boasts of their “World Famous Minneapolis Pizza.”  Their pizza menu includes standard crust (hand stretched and baked on hot stones) and deep dish (cornmeal crust baked in a pan).  They have many specialty pizzas to choose from, or – if you’re feeling adventurous, you can design your own.  We decided on the Suzi Supreme after a consultation with our server.  The Suzi Supreme is made on their hand-stretched dough and features pepperoni, sausage, onion, green pepper, black olive, and cremini with house tomato sauce.

To be honest, we wanted to order one of everything but I couldn’t chance gaining back that 0.1 pound I worked so hard to shed on the DASH diet.

Food Wait Time:

When Suzi’s is busy, you’ll wait for your food.  We popped in on a lazy Sunday afternoon – a rare time when Suzi’s wasn’t wall-to-wall with patrons.  Total wait time was about 30 minutes.

Drumroll, please . . . the Pizza Itself:

Let me say this.  I’m not a fan of tiki bars.  They remind me of that old Brady Bunch episode (bad luck!).  I don’t like kitsch either, and I don’t need the walk down memory lane of being at the scene of the crime . . . I mean, where Gabby’s used to be.  Hence, I’m predisposed to be anti-Suzi.  And yet . . . I’m a fan.  Why?  Because their pizza is that good.  The sauce is subtle, the toppings are fresh, and the cheese doesn’t strangle my throat.  After two weeks on the DASH diet, I nearly went blind with ecstasy when I bit into this pizza.

If you can put up with the kitsch, the theme, a patio that overlooks a garbage dump, the parking situation, the slow service, and the wall-to-wall people here . . . the pizza is worth it.

Price and Value:

Suzi ain’t a cheap date.  You’ll pay a premium for the pizza here.  A large pizza and drinks will run you close to $50.  But the PTSD?  That comes free.

Post Pizza Mood:

We broke the fast.  We ate real food.  Carbs and fat coursed through our veins.  Screw the DASH diet!  Tens for everyone!

Bottom Line:

I know a lot of people love this place, and I respect that.  It’s been featured on Diners and Dives and it’s a place to see and been seen.  I’m lukewarm on Suzi for all the reasons listed above.  I do like the pizza, but I’m not sure it’s worth the price, the hassle, or the unwanted walk down the memory lane of shame.

That’s my vote.  If you love a riverfront patio; if you’re a tiki connoisseur; or if you live nearby and don’t have to park to visit Suzi’s, this might be your favorite place on earth.  And I respect that.  Peter Brady and I will meet you later at Broadway Station.  

Week 24: Galactic Pizza (Uptown/Minneapolis)

Although I often behave like a cranky old man, I don’t live underneath a rock.  I watch TV.  I cyberstalk people I knew in 3^rd grade on social media.  I talk to people.  And sometimes, I even leave the house.  Unfortunately, leaving the house often serves as a method of proving my various hypotheses about the human race, such as:

1. There are a whole bunch of people who believe that cell phones provide a cloak of invisibility.  Either that or they just don’t really care that I have a front row seat to a graphic description of what they found in Junior’s diaper.  Newsflash: not only can I see you, I can hear you.  And I really, really, really want you to STFU.
2. Turn signals are an optional feature on several types of cars, many of them very expensive luxury cars.  I find this perplexing, because although my trusty Honda Civic didn’t come with a lot of bells and whistles off the factory floor, it was equipped with turn signals as a standard option.  As a demonstration of my gratitude, I use them every time I intend to turn the car and also to indicate my desire to change lanes.  BMW guy, I’m sorry that for $40 grand plus, all you got was a lease you can’t afford, a bad attitude, and no turn signals anywhere in sight.  Maybe that explains your super-sucky driving.
3. Even though we all pay the same price to belong to this “fitness club”, the rules about using cardio equipment for 20 minutes maximum don’t apply to everyone.  These are the same people who also have an ambivalent attitude about cleaning up after themselves.  Please – after you’ve sweated up that treadmill for the past 90 minutes, just walk away.  I would love the opportunity to marinate in your sweat. 
4. Tossing your lit cigarette butts and/or McDonald’s happy meal remains out your car window is just as good as finding a trash receptacle or ashtray.  I, for one, love it when a lit cigarette bounces off my windshield at 55 miles an hour almost as much as I love finding other people’s garbage in my front yard. 

Obviously, I could go on and on and on and on – but unlike the people referenced in my examples above, I can take a hint, and I can feel you getting impatient waiting for me to make a point.  Well, here it is.  Our 24^th week of pizza consumption was leading us back to my least favorite neighborhood in Minneapolis – uptown. I rather poetically described my disdain for this vibrant area in week 16, so I won’t belabor the point except to remind you that I have a real problem with hipster doofuses.  Our week 24 pizza destination, Galactic Pizza, appeared to be the zenith of hipster doofusdum.  In fact, my friend Jon recommended a trip to Galactic not because he thought the pizza would change my life but because he was pretty darned sure that my head would explode in a spectacular show of intolerance.

Because I don’t live under a rock, I had a vague awareness of Galactic Pizza.  I’d seen their delivery drivers dressed up as superheroes, zipping around uptown in electric cars.  Pizza delivered by a guy in pink tights, a cape, and Doc Martens?  Sure.  There’s nothing weird about that at all.  (See photo below from Citypages)

Pre-Pizza Moods:

Since I was pretty convinced that week 24 would be an adventure, I decided to take the opportunity to change up the participation as well.  Normally, pizza night is a special date night for my hubby and me.  It’s the one time during the week (when we’re not on some insane, carb-free diet, that is) where we do something new and spend quality time together.  I was a little nervous that I might stab a hipster with a fork and that bail money might be required – so we invited another couple to join in our little pizza adventure.  Sure, inviting guests meant there would be additional witnesses, but it also ensured that our party would have enough bail money to spring me.

The couple in question included a work colleague and his wife.  Said work colleague and I spend an inordinate amount of time snickering and making jokes at the expense of anyone and everything around us, and we frequently laugh so hard that one or both of us winds up in tears.

My pre-pizza mood was about a 7.  I was a bit nervous about introducing my hubby to a new couple – you never know how that’s going to go – and let’s be clear.  I was expecting to be annoyed to death by hipsters.

Hubby’s pre-pizza mood was about a 6.5, mostly because we didn’t eat at 4 PM like we normally do and he hates waiting.  Especially for pizza.

Parking Situation and Exterior Appearance:

It’s uptown.  You park on the street.  At a meter.  If you can find a spot.  We were fortunate enough to find a spot about half a block away from Galactic’s front door.  I kept my eyes shut while my hubby parallel parked and vowed that I would never return to Galactic Pizza on my own, unless it was in a taxi.

From the outside, Galactic is a quaint little storefront in a sunny yellow building.  Having done a little research on the joint prior to our visit, I’d learned that this self-proclaimed “planet saving pizza” place uses renewable wind energy to power their restaurant.  As a hybrid car driver, avid recycler, and fan of the planet in general, I must admit I find that pretty cool.  Although I did attend a liberal arts college and took the required science courses to graduate, I’m hardly an engineer, so I must confess that I sort of expected to see a giant windmill or something on their roof.  How does this work?  I want to see the wind!  I am highly curious about this renewable wind energy thing and therefore, I implore my more scientifically competent friends to explain this to me using color crayons and hand puppets so I can comprehend.  In return, I can answer any questions you might have about the Fair Labor Standards Act.  Call me!

Entrance/Welcome:

After you burst through the front doors of Galactic Pizza, you’ll be confronted by some velvet curtains.  (They might not be velvet.  I never took a Home Economics class so this is another area where I’m out of my element.  Ironically, I did work as a teacher’s aide in a Home Ec class for a semester but that’s a story for another day.)  After you part the perhaps velvet curtains, you’ll enter the restaurant itself.  Galactic Pizza has a “seat yourself” philosophy and limited seating.  If you go on a Saturday night, you can expect to wait.  We closed the curtains (it’s rude to stare at people while they eat) and proceeded to wait. 

Note: there’s really no good place to wait here.  If you stay behind the maybe-velvet curtain, you’ll be next to the exterior door, and if it’s cold out, you’ll get blasted with arctic air every time someone enters or exits.  If you enter the restaurant itself, you’ll be looming over some poor diner. 

After a 10 minute wait, we were able to secure a table.  Our dining companions were still en route, so we previewed the menu and had a snack.

Clientele/Overall Vibe:

I had a preconceived notion that this place would be jammed with elbow-to-elbow hipster doofuses and patchouli-scented hippies.  And I was wrong.  It happens.  Deal with it.  Galactic Pizza draws a diverse crowd – young, old, families, hemp-lovers, couples on dates, and middle-aged opinionated pizza bloggers. 

Galactic Pizza is a self-described values-led company.  They deliver pizzas in electric cars.  They use locally sourced, organic ingredients. They compost their food waste.  Takeout orders are placed in biodegradable packaging.   If you order a “Second Harvest Heartland” pizza, $1 is donated to this hunger relief organization.  They use hemp products and the menu is printed on hemp paper.  And the list goes on and on.  Read more about their mission and vision here. 

Wait Staff:

I’m not going to lie.  I was relieved to see that our server was not, in fact, wearing tights and a cape.  She was not a super-hero, but she was a great server!  Not only did she help us navigate the menu, she made suggestions and when we showed off our indecisive sides, she diplomatically suggested a peaceful solution. 

Menu Selection:

Galactic Pizza is totally serious about their mission of saving the planet – but they also know how to have fun.  What I loved about this place is their whimsical and playful take on their serious mission.  Take the menu, for example.  It comes with 3D glasses, to help you “peer into the future of food satisfaction”. 

Galactic Pizza offers a wide selection of specialty pizzas, and if you have dietary restrictions, do not despair!  Gluten free, vegetarian, and vegan options abound.  Salads, pastas, and desserts are also on the menu. 

To wash it all down, you can enjoy soda, organic iced tea, or a selection of beers and wines.

Food Wait Time:

True confession: we didn’t time the pizza wait time since we were busy socializing.  We had great fun with our guests and will likely invite them to join us in future pizza outings if they are still speaking to us after watching how rowdy I become after two beers.

Drumroll, please . . . the Pizza Itself:

Each couple at our table ordered their own pizza – primarily because the hubby and I have food aggression and our guests feared being victims of a fork stabbing or biting.  Because we were struggling to make a decision, our server gently suggested that we do a half and half.  We got an Old School and Mexacali.

The Old School is your traditional pizza; tomato sauce, mozzarella, pepperoni, sausage, mushroom, green pepper, and red onions on a regular, old school crust.  (No gluten free for us.)  It was one of the best pizzas I’ve tasted in recent memory. 

The Mexicali is Galactic’s version of the taco pizza, made famous in elementary school cafeterias around the world in the 1980’s.  Featuring Salsa Lisa cream sauce, mozzarella, cheddar, chicken, green onion, roma tomatoes, cilantro, and jalapeños, this was also a winner.  

The pizza was hot, fresh, and assembled with care.  Unlike prior pizza excursions where the corner of the pizza was lost en route to the table (talking to you, Michelangelo’s), this was a pizza that was made with love and organic ingredients.

Our dining companions also went with a half-and-half approach on their pizza.  I believe they went with the Paul Bunyan on half and sadly, I’m not sure what they had on the other half because I was too busy licking my chops and shoveling pizza into my own pie hole.

Price and Value:

You’ll pay a little more at Galactic Pizza than at say, Domino’s.  A large pizza will run you about $22 – but if you can swing the prices, it’s definitely worth it.  Not only is this a values-driven company, it’s a fun dining experience and the food is delicious.  Did I save the planet?  No.  But I felt like I was doing something good.

Post-Pizza Mood:

We loved having dining companions (thanks, Jeff and Lori!) and this was just the dining experience to share with others.  We left Galactic at a post-pizza mood of about 8.5 each.  It would have been higher but we over-indulged and when your pants are hurting you, it’s hard to get to a perfect 10.

Bottom Line:

I’m ashamed of myself.  I judged Galactic Pizza without giving it a chance.  The uptown location and the guys in tights led me to believe this was a hipster doofus paradise and therefore, a representation of everything I loathe in this world.  And I was wrong.  I’m grateful to my friend Jon for recommending this place to me, even though his recommendation was mean-spirited because he was convinced my head would explode.  (I forgive you, Jon.) 

There’s no shame in Galactic’s game.  They have a very serious mission and vision, and they walk their own talk.  They lead with their values, which is a refreshing change of pace.  The best part is that they make a freaking awesome pizza in the process and they manage to make saving the planet fun. 

Sure, the parking situation sucks.  And it costs a little more.  But it’s definitely worth a visit and if I can get a ride, I’ll be back.

Week 23: Jakeeno's Pizza (South Minneapolis - Powderhorn Park)

I am woefully tardy in writing up the review for our 23^rd consecutive pizza destination.  I’d like to blame it on the rush of the Christmas holidays and the year-end wrap up activities, but the truth is far more sinister.  The truth is that all this pizza is making me fat!

As you’ve probably realized by this time, I have a love affair going on with food, and the more decadent it is, the more I love it.  I’ve never met a cake, pie, cookie, cheeseburger, plate of nachos, or pizza that I haven’t liked.  I don’t love them all, but I would never turn my back (or my mouth) on a snack.  In real life, this translates to an ongoing battle with my weight that’s been going on since at least 1986, which is the first (but not last) time I went on a diet.

Years of fad diets, unhealthy eating habits, and pathological laziness have wreaked havoc on my metabolism, which frankly, didn’t need any further encouragement to operate at a slow pace.  Combine that with being middle-aged and female, and what you get is a gal who invests in a lot of Spanx.  (If you are unfamiliar with Spanx, allow me to explain.  Spanx is brand of so-called “shapewear” and according to  Señor Steve on the interwebs, they are “really tight slips or biker shorts that fat chicks wear under their clothes so they don’t get rolls.”  Would you like to know what Señor Steve really thinks?  “It’s nasty if you ask me.”  Listen up, Señor.  Dudes in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, especially at girls wearing compression garments because we will cut you.)

My Secret Santa at the office didn’t help matters.  She kept leaving giant, two pound bags of M&Ms on my desk.  In lieu of actually eating lunch, I was mainlining M&Ms while sitting on my ample backside doing my cubicle jockey job.  Between the M&Ms, the pizza, and my deep love of wine and doughnuts (yes, they do complement each other nicely), things got out of hand.  Technically speaking, I was having trouble squeezing into my Spanx.  And as any chubby gal can attest to, when you can’t squeeze into your Spanx, you can forget about getting your pants buttoned. 

Desperate times call for desperate measures, dear readers.  I had three choices.  I could stop wearing pants (socially and professionally unacceptable); invest in larger pants (expensive and time consuming due to my impressive 34” inseam); or lose some weight.  I chose option three, investigated various diet options, and coerced my hubby to embark on the DASH diet with me.  After some formal (I read two books) and informal (a quick search of my Facebook friends to see if anyone had heard of this thing) research, I declared December 26^th as “DASH Diet Day” in our household. 

The DASH diet was originally developed as an eating style to help lower blood pressure.  It emphasizes eating real foods, particularly a lot of fruits and vegetables, balanced with lean protein.  And, like any good diet, you are encouraged to participate in an “induction” phase whereby you limit carbohydrates, including grains and fruits, and eat several small meals throughout the day.  Sugar and alcohol are strictly forbidden in this phase, as are pretty much anything delicious.  Needless to say, pizza is strictly forbidden.

Since starting the DASH diet, my hubby and I have been vying for the seat of Mayor of Crankytown.  Last night, he declared himself the governor while I mumbled something about knocking over a Dunkin Donuts.  Five days without wine and M&Ms is taking its toll on our heroine.  And my hubby isn’t holding up much better.  Not only has this DASH diet taken a toll on our moods (and possibly, our marriage), but it also required us to put our pizza eating on a short hiatus.  And, since I couldn’t eat pizza, the very idea of sitting around and thinking about pizzas I’ve already eaten (and pizzas that led me to this uncomfortable weight in the first place) was simply more than I could bear.  That, dear readers, is why it’s taken so damn long for me to tell you about the pizza we enjoyed on our 23^rd consecutive week of pizza consumption.

Week 23 brought us back to the Powderhorn Park neighborhood of South Minneapolis.  For those keeping score, I am a former resident of this neighborhood and I have many fond memories of living in the ‘hood, so I tend to wax a little nostalgic when we visit Powderhorn Park.  And, in case you haven’t connected the dots yet, during our courting period, my hubby and I went out on several pizza dates – including a date night at Jakeeno’s Pizza and Pasta.

Jakeeno’s currently has two South Minneapolis locations; their flagship (and original) pizzeria located on Chicago Avenue South and a newer location called Jakeeno’s Trattoria in the Midtown Global Market.  We visited the original, Jakeeno’s Pizza and Pasta, which has been family owned and operated since 1975.

Pre-Pizza Moods:  We managed to stave off our hunger until a more reasonable dinner hour and headed out to Jakeeno’s around 6:30 PM on a cool and pleasant December evening.  A light dusting of snow fell from the sky, making everything look clean and fresh; Christmas lights were hung on homes and businesses; and there something festive in the air.  We fondly recalled our first (and only previous) visit to Jakeeno’s and our mouths watered at the thought of their delicious thin crust pizza.  Thus, pre-pizza moods were strong, with both of us clocking in at a solid 7.5.

Parking Situation and Exterior Appearance:  Jakeeno’s Pizza and Pasta isn’t much to look at from the outside.  Situated on the corner of 36^th Street and Chicago Avenue, you may notice it if you’re stuck at the stoplight but in general, it’s the kind of place that you might not look at twice unless, of course, you’re planning to stop in for a pizza.

I think I mentioned that it was snowing out.  This is important because learning the parking rules in Minneapolis during a snow emergency is on par with learning to speak a foreign language.  Snow emergency regulations are complicated and just as soon as you think you’ve figured them out, suddenly your car gets towed.  We did spy a small parking lot on Chicago Avenue and pulled in.  Ominous signs informed us that these spots were “reserved” but it was unclear for whom.  We decided that meant it was okay for us to park there, and later confirmed with our server that we were in the right place.

A few words about the parking lot, if I may.  It’s petite.  If you, like me, are parking challenged and wont to smash into things (fences, poles, dumpsters, other cars, etc), please make alternate arrangements to dine at Jakeeno’s or alert your auto insurance agent in advance.

Entrance/Welcome:  There is no worse feeling than stumbling into a restaurant for the first time and not knowing what to do.  Should you wait to be seated?  Seat yourself?  Stand there awkwardly waiting for someone to tell you what to do?  Flee the scene immediately? 

Thus, I appreciated Jakeeno’s simple and clear instructions:

Clientele/Overall Vibe: If you are currently on the lam, Jakeeno’s is not the place for you. When they’re not patronizing doughnut shops, Minneapolis cops apparently enjoy Jakeeno’s Pizza and Pasta, and there was a table of 3^rd Precinct police officers there during our visit.  We tried to snap a photo without being too obvious . . .

Besides the table of cops, there were young, old, hipsters, families with small children, and people on dates.  Jakeeno’s draws a diverse crowd but the overall vibe remains relaxed and calm.  I suspect the police presence has something to do with that.

Beyond the police presence, Jakeeno’s has a warm, intimate feeling inside.  It’s quaint with candles on each table and it feels like the kind of place where you might have a romantic evening with someone special. 

Wait Staff: Our waiter was awesome!  He was pretty much serving the entire dining room, playing bartender, and manning the phones so we didn’t see as much of him as we would have liked, but he was really engaging, fun to talk to, and helpful. Most importantly, he magically reappeared every time a glass needed refilling so no one was parched, which is a plus.

  

Menu Selection:  Jakeeno’s menu offers a variety of pizza and pasta options.  You choose from a traditional red sauce or olive oil/garlic sauce on a thin crust pizza of 10”, 13”, or 15”.  Gluten-free pizza options are offered with an important caveat; “As we are a flour-filled environment, please remember that we cannot guarantee a 100% gluten-free meal.”  (Points for honesty).  In addition to the traditional, “design your own” pie, Jakeeno’s offers over ten specialty pizzas.  We opted for the “Chicago Super” based on our server’s endorsement and our personal preferences.  This 15 inch thin crust specialty pizza features sausage, mushroom, green and ripe olives; onions, and green peppers.

If you’re a vegan, be not afraid.  Jakeeno’s has vegan soy cheese available.  Or, if you’re in the mood for pasta, they also have a wide selection of pasta selections available.

Food Wait Time: Our pizza arrived in just over 30 minutes.  Average.

Drumroll, Please . . . the Pizza Itself:  Jakeeno’s did not disappoint.  Their thin crust pizza is appropriately crispy; does not taste like an old saltine cracker/stale communion wafer; and is not soggy or dripping with grease.  The toppings were fresh and plentiful with an appropriate ratio of cheese and tangy sauce. 

They offer an excellent selection of craft beer and wine, which I most certainly enjoyed, and their pizza is as good as Broadway Station, Latuff’s, and Red Savoy.  In my opinion, Jakeeno’s Pizza is better than Fireside; Carbone's; Joey Nova’s; and Michelangelo’s Masterpizzas. (I’ll get my hubby’s opinion when he is back on carbs and less cranky.) 

Price & Value: Prices are a little higher at Jakeeno’s than some of the other pizza joints we’ve patronized.  Our large Chicago Special ran us $22, and with my adult beverages and my hubby’s iced tea and tip, our bill was $45. 

Post-Pizza Mood:  We left Jakeeno’s feeling satisfied with full bellies and full hearts.  Post pizza moods were at a solid 9 for each of us.

Bottom Line:  This is pizza worth visiting South Minneapolis for.  Seriously.  If you are lucky enough to live in the Powderhorn Park neighborhood, Jakeeno’s will deliver to your doorstep.  If you’re like the rest of us, you’ll have to make the trip.  Yes – a pizza dinner and drinks will run you about $50 (if you are a generous tipper and why wouldn’t you be?), but I guarantee you won’t be disappointed with Jakeeno’s!

Week 22: Michelangelo's Masterpizzas (Southwest Minneapolis)

Our 22^nd consecutive week of pizza consumption was ill-fated from the get go.  And that’s putting it mildly.  In hindsight, it’s obvious that I woke up on the proverbial wrong side of the bed.  Since I actually wake up on the same side of the bed every day – often clinging to the very edge of my allotted sleeping real estate because the dog has invaded my space – I became curious about the origin of this idiom.  In case it’s not part of your everyday vernacular, getting up on the wrong side of the bed means to start one’s day in a “less than sunny mood”.  A very lazy Google search on the origin of this idiom taught me that it stems from Roman times, when it was considered bad luck to exit one’s bed on the left side.  Hence, if you exited your bed on the left side, your day was fated to suck. 

This left me with more questions than answers, however.  How do you determine the left side of the bed?  Is it the left side as you lie in bed or the left side as you look at the bed from the doorway?  Obviously, this led to a secondary (and equally lazy) Google search, where I discovered that I’m not alone in my confusion on this issue and where absolutely no light was shed on the answer.  I casually approached my hubby and inquired which side of the bed I sleep on, to which he immediately answered, “The left!”  Is it any wonder I’m the Mayor of Crankytown, for God’s sakes?  I get up on the wrong side of the bed every single day. 

On our 22^nd week of pizza consumption, I hopped out of the wrong side of the bed, donned my pointy hat, and hopped on my broomstick.  No amount of designer coffee, reality television, or Candy Crush Saga could shake my foul mood – and I was determined to crash the mood elevator of everyone who had the grave misfortune of crossing my path.  Unfortunately for my hubby, he was the obvious first victim, and by the time we left for pizza, we were a pair of crankypants.

Our pizza eating calendar had us headed to Lake Harriet Pizza, recommended by my friend, Jean.  As a rare coincidence, our anti-social asses had also been invited to a social gathering later in the evening in the same neighborhood, so we tentatively planned to eat garlic and onions prior to the party.  (Kind of makes you want to add us to your guest list, huh?)

Pre-Pizza Moods: If you’ve kept up with our pizza adventures, you know that we typically measure our moods on a 1-10 scale.  Compared to previous weeks, I would say that my pre-pizza mood was hovering right around -436.  My hubby was at about -3. 

In spite of our moods, we left the house for Lake Harriet Pizza around 6 PM.  But because we were so incredibly foul, neither of us bothered to do any pre-pizza research – a fact that would come to bite us in our collective backsides.  It was a cold, snowy night and when we reached Lake Harriet Pizza, we quickly realized that this was the kind of place that would require us to park about a block away and walk.  We were so distracted by trying to navigate the parking situation that we failed to notice that Lake Harriet Pizza is a takeout/delivery joint only. 

Since our pizza experiment is predicated on a dine-in experience, we were thrown for a loop.  Since we were already so delightful, you can imagine the impact that this discovery had on our moods.  We quickly rallied, however, remembering that we’d passed a pizzeria nearby and making an executive decision to give the neighboring Michelangelo’s Masterpizzas a try.

Parking Situation and Exterior Appearance:  Michelangelo’s Masterpizzas describes itself as a neighborhood Italian restaurant in Southwest Minneapolis, offering dine-in, carryout, or delivery.  Located in a sweet, quaint storefront, Michelangelo’s looks like a welcoming, warm place to escape the wind-chill and enjoy a pizza.

The parking situation is typical of a southwest Minneapolis establishment.  It’s every car for themselves on the street.  If you can’t parallel park, be prepared to walk.   We lucked out and found a spot nearby that didn’t require parallel parking, but I remember thinking that I would probably smash and crash my car if I were to park there myself. 

Entrance/Welcome: Upon entry, a few things were suddenly very clear to us.  First off, this joint’s name is longer than its total restaurant square footage.  Secondly, chaos seemed to rule in the dining room.  There were three people working at Michelangelo’s the night we visited.  The cook was the host, receptionist and waiter.  Our server was also the prep cook and dishwasher. 

A number of people came in to pick up takeout orders that appeared to have been misplaced, and they were forced to stand around awkwardly waiting.  One guy waited for his takeout order for almost the entire duration of our visit. 

Needless to say, there was not a warm welcome when we entered Michelangelo’s, and we were left to figure out what to do ourselves.  We sat ourselves at a table of dubious cleanliness and waited for someone to acknowledge us or provide a menu.  We were in for a long wait.

Clientele/Overall Vibe: Michelangelo’s only has the capacity to seat about 25 diners.  There were two other tables visiting while we were there, and it was clear that they were frequent fliers.  A few things of note: if you like to enjoy an adult beverage with your pizza pie, you’re welcome to bring your own bottle to Michelangelo’s.  In fact, you’re more than welcome to – you’ll have to BYOB if you want a drink.

And although Michelangelo’s looks warm and sunny, when we removed our coats, we could not help but notice a cool breeze blowing through the restaurant.  It was so cold, in fact, that I put both my coat and gloves back on while we waited.

Wait Staff: Our server was very nice when she wasn’t doing her other jobs.  Another server – a boisterous, wanna-be comedian / out of work actor took care of the other tables.  Given my ill humor, I found him to be particular irritating and idly wondered if poking him with a fork would shut him up.  Newsflash: no one is going to “discover” you at Michelangelo’s.  And with 10,000 comedians out of work, perhaps you should stick to something you’re more suited to.

Menu Selection: Like any good pizzeria, Michelangelo’s offers “build your own” pizza options as well as specialty pizzas.  You can choose your own crust; thin, hand tossed, or deep dish.  The menu advises that a deep dish will take 40 minutes, which we had to veto due to fears of developing frostbite while sitting in the restaurant waiting. 

We ordered a thin crust “Horner’s Special” which is their version of an everything pizza, topped with Italian sausage, pepperoni, mushrooms, green peppers, red onions, green olives and celery, with both cheddar and mozzarella cheese.

Food Wait Time: While we waited for our pizza, my hubby visited the bathroom – conveniently located through the kitchen.  It was such an experience that he snapped a photo.  Suffice to say, like the rest of Michelangelo’s, it was petite.

The food wait time felt extraordinarily long.  Maybe it was because I could see my breath; maybe it was because I was in a homicidal mood; or maybe it’s the fact that it took over 30 minutes to get the food to our table.  No amount of playing with my phone or using the complimentary crayons to draw pictures on my placemat could distract me from the fact that I was hungry, I was cold, I was damn tired of waiting, and I wanted to punch that other sever in the throat.

Drumroll, please . . . the food itself:  Since we were such a pair of crankypants, we were predisposed to be pissy about everything.  Thus, when I tell you that our Horner’s Special was, in fact, a masterpizza worthy of the name, you should take me seriously.  It was a good pizza.  

The crust? Crispy, tasty, and delicious.  The toppings?  Fresh.  The sauce?  Appropriately saucy.  The cheeses were a delightful surprise.  Who knew that cheddar and mozzarella would blend so nicely?  It was an appropriate ratio of cheese, so there was no risk of cheese coagulating in my throat and choking me.   I can’t give the pizza an A but that’s only because of all the previously mentioned extenuating factors, my hypothermia high on the list.

Price & Value: A 16 inch thin crust pizza is just under $20.  Our total bill – including beverages – was $22, which is definitely a bargain.

Post-Pizza Mood: We were full (!) and the pizza was surprisingly delicious.  Unfortunately, no one’s mood was significantly improved.

Bottom Line: If you live in Southwest Minneapolis and want to patronize a local pizzeria, you can do worse than Michelangelo’s Masterpizzas.  However, I’d recommend that you wait until spring or summer to visit or you’ll freeze your butt off.  

If you can’t wait that long, you can always try takeout, but based on the confused and frustrated looks on the faces of the people attempting to pick up their pizzas to take home when we visited, I’m not sure this will be a wholly pleasant experience either. 

Experience aside, the pizza is tasty and worth a try.  But I’d recommend visiting on a day when you’re not vying for the mayorship of Crankytown.