Out in the suburbs of Minneapolis is a place called St. Louis Park. Within that park is the West End, a mall containing, well, you know what malls have. This one, though, had a restaurant called Rojo. Mexican in theme, the place was slightly upscale and was kind of what is expected from Mexican restaurants so far from the border. Nothing was particular creative or exciting-looking, but this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
The Twin Cities may have a few claims to their name, but none so big as the Jucy Lucy. This burger stuffed with cheese may have originated at Matt’s Bar, but many other Lucy spots have grown from there and tried to make improvements to an already incredible creation. Despite my desire’s to visit Matt’s Bar, I was convinced by a lawyer (typical) to head to Blue Door instead, as Blue Door is one of those places that supposedly took the Jucy Lucy to the next level.
While reports all over the radio waves are calling Sioux Falls, South Dakota some sort of a boom town, by the time we reached it we knew very little, if anything, about their food scene. Luckily, a friend of mine hails from the largest town in South Dakota and pointed us towards Mama’s Ladas, a Mexican place in a town that feels about a far from Mexico as possible.
Montana. Big sky country. The land of traffic jams caused by cows. Yes, like very few people before us (based on the lack of a line at the border), we returned from the Great White North through Montana. Billings is a long way from the border, but at some point we found ourselves there and in need of eats. Thusly, we discovered the creatively named Montana Brewing Company.
Banff is not just a funny word, it’s also the name of an incredible national park in Alberta and a town in that same province. In said town, food can be a bit too pricey for poor road trippers, so the wife and I found ourselves at Eddie Burger Bar. Being the most reasonably-priced meal we could find, I hoped it would give me a better showing than my burger in Blue River.
Somewhere in the wild blue yonder of the Great White North between Vancouver and Jasper in British Columbia is the town of Blue River. Little can be said of this town except for its potentially exciting excursions on bear safaris. There is very little food to be had and one of, if not the only restaurants in town is called Tony’s Grill. With a minimal menu that was made even smaller by either the lack of deliveries or large influx of eaters, I was able to find my way to their super cheap cheeseburger to see how Blue River did burgers.
Chinatowns are an interesting phenomenon. And not so much in the fact that a group of people from a country showed up to a new country and settled in one area, but in the way that they no longer really seem to be representative of China. Case in point: while in Vancouver, I knew there was good Chinese to be found, and rather than point me to Chinatown, my hotel pointed me to Richmond, which he called real Chinatown. By real, he meant that the Chinatown on the map was simply no longer authentic, if it ever was. By recommendation, we went to a place called Rainflower to devour dim sum before undertaking the long drive to Jasper.
Contrary to my belief based on visits to Canada from Detroit when I was a wee boy, the Great White North is not a cheap place. Gone are the days that an American dollar could be exchanged for a toonie. Instead, the US is now the place Canada looks to for cheap stuff, making it difficult for an incoming grad student on a road trip budget to eat. Yet, somehow we found our way to Joey Broadway in South Granview, a modern Canadian restaurant with a great-looking menu and Goldilocks-esque just-right pricing. Not to mention a killer patio.
Although traditionally a French-Canadian specialty, no trip to Canada can be complete without a trip to some sort of local poutinerie. Yes, a poutinerie is a place the dishes out poutine, that ingenious gravy, fry cheese curd concoction that was most likely devised as a way to survive the winter in the Great White North. And despite the beautiful weather, I made my way to Fritz European Fry House in downtown Vancouver to get poutine in me.
After Portland we made our way into the Great White North, although surprisingly Canada wasn’t quite covered in white in the middle of the summer. We began in Vancouver, and I found myself a Japadog stand to satisfy my hunger. In case you are unable to read between the lines, Japadog is simply a Japanese hot dog stand, serving up typical Japanese-style hot dogs and other interesting hot dogs with Japanese toppings on them. It’s been around since 2005 and is pretty well-regarded in the street food scene. At least it was regarded enough that I can say that I had heard of them at some point in my life.