Author: rakemag

This tiny shack on a frontage road in St. Louis Park has been around for some forty years, but only during the last four has it begun kicking out truly tasty burgers. Since the former owners of Franks A Million and the Wienery took over the retro spot, they’ve revived that twentieth-century marvel: the window tray. Sitting there propped outside your car, Wagner’s burgers are the essence of temptation: hand-formed, crispy on the outside and soft in the middle, smothered with fresh toppings. Plus, the joint’s old-school Cherry Coke literally glows from the added syrup, and the malts are crazy good. Hit the recline button on your car seat and settle in for a mighty fine meal. 3712 Quebec Ave S., St. Louis Park; 952-933-1857

If restaurants starred in teen movies, the Longfellow Grill would be the smart and sassy new girl who’s had the makeover, but still knows who she is. Featuring roughly the same menu as her sisters, the Highland Grill and Edina Grill, Longfellow is a little sexier and a little more amped, thanks to a bold decor (electric greens and splashy purples play off a black ceiling), not to mention a full bar and late hours. But this grill still knows how to turn out rich and satisfying leek and sage risotto cakes, and a stellar Elvis burger. Perched on an unbeatablecorner–East Lake and River Road Parkway–it’s also got a beautifully situated patio and is sure to become a stand-in-line brunch destination. And who wouldn’t willingly wait for those breakfast kabobs with kicky andouille sausage, or the spinach and tomato scramble with creamy brie? 2990 West River Parkway, Minneapolis; 612-721-2711

Libraries have become boisterous “information centers.” Churches offer rock-n-roll services. Art galleries encourage interaction with the art and with other patrons. Where has all the silence gone? To Patrick’s Bakery. One look at that shimmering pastry case seems to render people speechless. Patrons of this most authentic French bakery behave as if they’re in a museum, or a cathedral, or a library, back in the day: They are reverent. Awed. Respectful. Behind glass, soft light bounces off the egg white glaze on the croissants, the plump belly of an apricot nestled into a custard pastry, the gold leaf garnish on the top of a perfect little chocolate torte. This is more than food; it’s art. 2928 W. 66th St., Richfield; 612-861-7570

You drink chai and attend yoga classes, you dine on curries and masalas, you even watch the occasional Bollywood flick. But let’s admit it: There’s still an enormous amount of Indian culture that’s exotic to us Americans. Take Kathakali, the ancient and visually dazzling form of theater from the country’s southwestern region, which employs dance, gesture, song, and percussion in the telling of epic Hindu myths. The flashy costumes and an elaborate style of makeup (characterizations are assigned to performers based on various combinations of green, red, black, and yellow) are designed to “raise the participants above the level of mere mortals, so that they may transport the audience to a world of wonders.” Would that more entertainment aspired to this goal! A traditional Kathakali performance would last through the evening until dawn, when Good finally conquered Evil in a bleary-eyed finale. In keeping with American tastes, this show boils down the best of this tradition into a couple of hours. 612-339-7007; www.hennepintheatredistrict.com

For all its whimsy, this production of King of Hearts might be tricky to laugh at. Latte Da artistic director Peter Rothstein made the bold move of casting performers from Interact Theatre, a troupe of artists with disabilities, to perform alongside his company members. That move isn’t unusual–Interact artists perform all the time–but in this instance, he cast players with Down syndrome as a trio of rasping, spitting German soldiers. Is it okay to laugh out loud at these performers, or at any of the others singing and dancing their way through a musical set in an lunatic asylum? After all, before long no one knows who’s crazy and who’s sane–which is exactly the point. Loring Playhouse, 1633 Hennepin Ave., Minneapolis; 612-486-5757; www.latteda.org

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In its dedication to adapting literature for the stage, Hardcover Theater is usually narrative-driven. This production, however, is a hallucinogenic journey as told by Georg Trakl, a German soldier-poet who fought in and ultimately took his own life during World War I. Trakl’s dreamy, drug-induced imagery is reminiscent of Arthur Rimbaud, whom he admired, yet his writing moves at a slower, heavier pace. Hardcover dug into Trakl’s past to uncover real people from his life–his mentally ill mother, the sister with whom he had an incestuous affair, his fellow soldiers at the battle of Grodek–who, as characters, bring to life Trakl’s dark and moody prose. The Playwrights’ Center, 2301 Franklin Ave. E., Minneapolis; 612-332-7481; www.hardcovertheater.org

Only a handful of North American operas have managed to muscle their way into a classic repertory already crowded with European works; count Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess, Bernstein’s Candide, and Nixon in China, by John Adams, among them. Imbued with the kind of quirkiness that only opera (and, arguably, the Nixons) can provide, Adams’s music, along with the libretto by Alice Goodman, brought together satire and epic, parody and propaganda–and, not least, a serious examination of this momentous media event. 651-224-4222; www.mnopera.org

“Laugh to keep from cryin’” was a maxim often employed by black vaudeville performers in the 1920s to endure racism, long hours, and atrocious pay, not to mention performing in humiliating productions. Things were even tougher on the traveling circuit, and yet amazingly, these vaudevillians still managed to bring warmth and quick-witted humor to audiences that viewed them with suspicion and outright hostility. Through the story of vaudeville star Bertha Mae Little, who helps two friends get their big break, Rollin’ chronicles the backstage machinations with both humor and poignance. 270 N. Kent St., St. Paul; 651-224-3180; www.penumbratheatre.org

Maybe it’s partly due to technology, or the global proliferation of biennials, or even a newish style of exhibition that the art critic Peter Schjeldahl dubbed “festivalism,” but more and more artists have been producing work on an extremely large scale. Given its own cavernous galleries, how could the Soap Factory not offer its own take on this trend? All around this erstwhile industrial space, stupendously large art stretches out and makes itself comfortable. Travis Graves’s industrial trees turn the very joists and floorboards of one gallery into the ghost of the forest they once inhabited. Elsewhere, Tamara Albaitis lets visitors travel the paths of a pulsating maze suggestive of either veins or bowels, which would make the viewer either blood or, uh, bodily waste–your pick! Even Jinnene Ross’s crochet project eschews daintiness: She works in hefty white rope. McKendree Key takes her gallery space and divides it in half–horizontally. In all, the projects in this show make us wonder: If supersized food makes our bodies bigger, how will viewing of supersized art affect us? 110 Fifth Ave. S.E., Minneapolis; 612-623-9176; www.soapfactory.org