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.
