The Rake Magazine

Category: Blog Post

  • A MacGuffin in Minneapolis

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    Howard Hawks’ magnificent film noir classic, The Big Sleep, opens with a stark, moonlit scene of a car being dragged out of the Malibu Bay with a dead chauffeur inside. Never in the course of the film — which has Humphrey Bogart as private eye Philip Marlowe investigating a blackmailing scheme and falling in love with his client’s elder daughter — is this adequately explained. The chauffeur’s murder is not only left unsolved, it’s very rarely referred to as the mystery/love story unfolds.

    This is what’s known in the movie business as a “MacGuffin,” a device with little relationship to the overall plot that serves mostly as a provocative tidbit to drive viewer attention. And so it is with Harry’s poutine.

    When Harry’s Food & Cocktails opened in early July, much was made of the fact that chef Steven Brown would be offering poutine: a lethal Canadian delicacy comprised of French fries, cheese curds, and gravy. Potential diners easily could have been left with the impression that this was a restaurant good only for the sort of ill-advised thrill-seeking you might get from parachuting into a wind farm. I know I was.

    Imagine my surprise when, after a lovely afternoon movie date and a walk down Washington Avenue, John and I stopped in and found — yes — burgers and fries, but also “breakfast” radishes with butter and sea salt, sautéed arugula, striped bass with truffle caviar, and an assortment of wholesome salads.

    Now, this is the Steven Brown I recall from Levain: a man with a healthy respect for fish, grains, and vegetables. Goateed and silver-haired, he was standing in front of the line at Harry’s, inspecting dishes as they went out, holding a towel (NOT a ladle full of gravy) to wipe off their already pristine rims.

    We had the Sunflower Salad, a truly inspired combination of butter lettuce, golden beets, smoked salmon, and sunflower sprouts that tasted sunny and smoky and fresh. We also had a really nice 2004 Washington Cab, prosaically named Pine and Post — which was young and fruity, as cold-hardy Washington grapes tend to be — for a mere $6.50 a glass.

    In fact, for a place that bills itself as a “cocktail” bar (which can be code for $15 martinis), the wine list is incredibly reasonable. There are a number of six to eight dollar by-the-glass options, including a Toad Hollow Rosé and a Hogue Fumé Blanc. If you’re willing to spring for a bottle, you can get everything from a $24 Willamette Valley Pinot Grigio to a $30 Argentinian Malbec.

    But best of all is the music at Harry’s. General Manager Steven Kleitz is a Kansas City native with a weakness for the blues, who plays mixes featuring Robert Cray and Stevie Ray Vaughan. This was, hands down, the most pleasant dining room I’ve spent time in lately.

    And all the talk about poutine? I think, perhaps, that was more publicity stunt than menu planning: the MacGuffin Brown and Kleitz used to get our attention.

  • Another Plug for Eloquent Nude

    Eloquent Nude: The Love and Legacy of Edward Weston and Charis Wilson is a remarkably resourceful hour-long documentary of the great photographer’s greatest love and the work they inspired in each other. Ms. Wilson, now 93, is candid in her remembrances and the reenactment work of their travels with the likes of Ansel Adams is so skillful you have to remind yourself you’re not watching archival footage. The heart of a fascinating proto-feminist libertine beats within this story. Co-produced by St. Paul native, Julie Gliniany. –by Brian Lambert

    Riverview Theater. 3800 42nd Avenue South. Friday, August 17, 5:30. Saturday and Sunday, August 18 and 19 at noon and 5:30.

  • City Pages Snaps a Towel at Al Franken

    In a world where everyone, especially celebrities are free roaming targets for everyone with a cellphone camera, Al Franken ought to be thankful City Pages’ newshounds don’t have his workout routine up on YouTube. Maybe tomorrow.

    City Pages posted a tiddy by writer Ben Westhoff describing Franken’s goofball antics in his condo work-out room. Reaction ensued. Now, CP editor, Kevin Hoffman, has added a comment defending, one assumes, his decision to run the piece.

    From the comments I gather the piece hasn’t played all that well with Friends of Al and/or more sober-minded news consumers.

    As a person-in-the-public-eye of long-standing I gotta believe Franken is used to this sort of thing. And if he isn’t, God help him if doesn’t start getting used to it. Every politician today is one click of a YouTube upload away from a “macaca meltdown”.

    The City Pages thing is a silly little “gotcha” item, probably of greater risk to City Pages’ currently re-coagulating reputation than Franken’s. (If Steve Perry were dead he’d be churning.) But when you’re a celebrity/senate candidate you’re fair game for damned near anything anyone wants to show or tell about you.

    That said, isn’t there a code of something about work-out behavior and gawking or telling tales of grunting, sweating, whatever? Isn’t it understood among, um, people of quality that what happens in the gym stays in the gym?

    I’m in no position to chastise anyone else for engaging in sophomoric silliness. Rather, my beef with this incident is with the underlying suggestion/assertion from both Westhoff and Hoffman that Franken — a career cut-up — is engaged in some kind of contrived struggle to transform his true self into a serious-minded student of political issues. Clearly, Franken is working, maybe too hard, at impressing Minnesota voters with his command of serious topics. But it is something else to insinuate that he is, you know, maybe, uh, faking it.

    If anything, Franken’s radio show floundered because he wasn’t funny or goofy enough. Too often he had his policy wonk dial yanked past 11. Some of that may have been for show. But anyone who listened understood the guy had done his homework. Put another way, anyone who thinks he doesn’t know what he’s talking about when he wades in to Iraq or health care or whatever isn’t paying attention.

    Beyond that, I think there’s an argument to be made that Franken the candidate has to find a balance between the glib, wise-cracking smart-ass most of us enjoyed, and a guy who strikes us as knowledgeable and committed enough to drive more enlightened policies through the U.S. Senate than Norm Coleman. That shouldn’t be too tough. Not among the Twin Cities literati, at least.

    Speaking as an elitist liberal who’d vote for my hydrangea bush before Norm Coleman — WAY too much rubber stamp work, Normie — my advice to Franken is to loosen up on the stump a bit more. These past seven years have been one long, sick joke. Laughter, whether rueful or mocking, can only be cathartic.

  • Stink Fest

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    Garlic is often referred to as the Stinking Rose. Maybe that’s why this Saturday’s Minnesota Garlic Festival is being held waaaaaay out at the Wright County Fairgrounds. I imagine the westerly winds will soften the pungent aromas as they waft toward the Cities, so that on Saturday evening you will be struck by the odd craving for Italian food.

    But me, I’m going in full bore. I like my garlic raw and plentiful and I can’t wait to see what a day of garlic festing brings. I know I’ll be in good company, their line-up of chefs is top notch: Lucia Watson, Mike Phillips of Craftsman, Alex Roberts of Restaurant Alma and Brasa, Philip Becht of The Modern Cafe, Tracy Singleton of Birchwood, and Russell Klein (formerly of WA Frost). Sponsored by the Sustainable Farming Association of Minnesota, would you expect anything less?

    Think of it as your pre-season to next week’s extravaganza….

  • Dog Days

    It’s been a mighty strange season, and I’m frankly exhausted. It obviously doesn’t take a whole lot of psychic energy to follow a genuinely good team. That’s probably not true, though, at least strictly speaking; to really follow any baseball team, day in and day out, takes a tremendous amount of psychic energy. It’s a huge investment of time, attention, and emotion.

    I guess what I’m trying to say, however, is that a good team more consistently rewards you for that time and attention, and the emotional reserves get replenished on a regular basis, allowing you to hang tough through the inevitable disappointments and occasional small heartbreaks.

    I’ve also always felt that a truly lousy team can be oddly satisfying in its own way. Expectations are diminished, futility is almost masochistically entertaining when it’s sustained, and you can sort of sit back, absorb the regular blows, and focus on the peripheral pleasures of baseball: the atmosphere, the development of young players, the incredible athleticism of even marginal stars, and the inning-by-inning, pitch-by-pitch dramas and decisions that make up every game. I’ve always contended that the teams with the most knowledgeable and loyal fans are the teams that have endured stretches of true futility.

    A team like this year’s version of the Twins, though? A decent team with a core group of excellent players, a promising batch of young pitchers, and absolutely no depth? A team that is distinguished by nothing so much as it’s maddeningly consistent inconsistency? This is the sort of team that kills you.

    I mean, you can bitch until you’re blue in the face about a shitty team and the sorts of complete organizational overhaul that would be necessary to make it competitive again, but real hope is so unrealistic and the malaise tends to be so general in such cases that it’s pointless to even have discussions of the sort we’ve been having all spring and summer this year. Back in the mid-90s nobody would have wasted any breath pining for the acquisition of somebody like Ty Wigginton, or crossing their fingers that the return of Rondell White could make any sort of a difference.

    I suppose you could argue that those discussions and hopes were just as pointless this year, but that’s part of the frustration of a team like the 2007 Twins; all we can do is strap ourselves into the slow-motion roller coaster and bitch and suffer as we lurch up and down and yet somehow still manage to go nowhere. It’s a rare and queasy experience that can make you feel like you’re riding a roller coaster and treading water at the same time.

    Since the All Star break the Twins have been one solid, sustained stretch away from surging right back into contention in the Central, but they haven’t had one solid, consistent surge in them. And as the Tigers and Indians have done everything in their power to make the division a three-team race, the Twins have been utterly unable to hold up their end of the deal.

    And that’s been nothing but frustrating.

  • Life & Style in the Twin Cities

    Under the shadow of the I-35W bridge collapse — but totally unrelated — came the launch of a new website, Minneapolis Picks — your total shopping guide. Don’t be misled by the shopping reference, though; this isn’t just trendy tops and shoes. The site covers everything from independent stores, to restaurants and services, events, and more.

  • Weekly Local Podcast

    Get out that ipod, and upload the latest Flak Radio segment — or upload all of them and catch up. James Norton, former producer of The Al Franken Show, and Taylor Carik, journalist and man-about-town, interview guest hosts, discuss Flak Magazine stories and crazy stuff they find on the internet, and end each segment with — my favorite part — Joel Meyer’s “What Was the Theme?” Can you figure it out? Probably not. It’s never that obvious.

  • Sailor Martin Takes Toyko Film World by Storm

    Our favorite, foul-mouthed, tattoed puppet, Sailor Martin, stars in this remix of the 1962 horror film The Manster.

  • It's 1994, and Cheeney Says No to War

    Watch and listen as Cheeney explains why it’s a bad idea to invade Baghdad. Hey, I buy it. Now why didn’t he? What he knew back in 1994, he seems to have forgotten.

  • Strib-Watch: The Whacking Continues …

    You’ve all heard of the half-dozen sweet old ladies at the Star Tribune switchboard let go in … what was that? Round 5? of “right-sizing” (TM: Par Ridder) … then came the end of what was no doubt an outrageously expensive deal paying mentally handicapped people to run errands around the building.

    Today’s instant-whackings (they’re gone a week from today) include five of eight tech shop (IT) employees and ten building maintenance employees.

    Avista Capital Partners continues to fight for the full employment and splendid compensation of Mr. Ridder.

    Here is today’s death knell memo from Strib Guild officers:

    THE CUTS CONTINUE: Reports from other unions at the Strib

    You see them often — eight savvy techs who help solve computer and other technical problems in the newsroom and elsewhere. Those eight IT workers are members of our CWA local (but not our Star Tribune Guild unit). (Erik Crane may be the IT we see most often in the newsroom.)

    Our union learned this week that the publisher is eliminating five of the techs’ jobs. They have until noon Aug. 24 to apply for buyouts similar to those taken recently by newsroom departees. Both those applying and those who may face layoffs if there aren’t enough volunteers will learn their jobs’ fate that very afternoon, and those departing will leave by early September.

    Two of their jobs are protected under their contract, and the company apparently will hang onto a third position.

    Having been through the cutback mill, we feel for them. And we’re also wondering: Who will we call when tech problems pop up, as they surely will? The answer is unclear.

    THEN THERE ARE THE JANITORS…

    More cutbacks are also coming in Building Services, we have learned. The company is shooting for 10 buyouts from among the group of Strib maintenance workers represented by the SEIU union. Our friends the janitors tell us that if the company doesn’t get that many buyouts, it is considering forcing people to go part-time, which could mean loss of their benefits.

    We feel for them. And again, we wonder — who will do the work if people and hours are cut? We’re checking into reports that some of our fellow Strib unions have been told they’ll be doing their own cleaning after the maintenance cutbacks, and are protesting with grievances.

    Which leads us to ask, rhetorically at least: What next?

    Your unit officers