Real Estate

by G. Sax

It probably seems like I never write anymore. Maybe you don’t give a shit. But if you do, then I have an explanation for my whereabouts. I’ve been doing a lot more real estate writing lately. It’s kind of my job as Communications Manager at the Minneapolis Area Association of REALTORS®, but I’ve also gotten involved with a separate real estate venture called 10K Research & Marketing.

10K is an attempt by my local job thing to become a national sensation. It’s been going well, so it’s been eating up a lot of my creative energy. And what I have left over, I give to the St. Paul Real Estate Blog in a weekly guest spot that appears every Wednesday.

In an attempt to win back your love, I’ll post some of the St. Paul articles here from time to time, and I’ll even do a few right now.

The Other Side of the River: This one’s about my morning with the mayor of Minneapolis and the many cool housing programs available in the Twin Cities.

The Transitive Property: This one’s about recent trips to the North Shore and Colorado Springs.

Agent and Buyer: This one’s about sleeplessness and how I came to write for the St. Paul Real Estate Blog. I subbed my dogs for the agent and buyer.

Irish Spring: This one’s about being in downtown during St. Patrick’s Day.

Selby and Fairview: This one’s about my trip to the Blue Door Pub, Jucy Lucys, and the importance of a specific street corner to my life.

Using Food and Drink to Describe My Minnesota

by G. Sax

Pizza
At least every other Friday night, I like to order from Pizza Factory on Maryland and Western. People ’round these parts swear by John’s Cafe, and I’ll get around to sampling the gourmet pies from up the road. But I’m loving the many time warp trips I’ve made down to Pizza Factory for pickup. They have just three tables inside the “restaurant,” too much wood paneling, and too loud a TV. I usually get it to go, but before I leave I like to try my hand at the Pac Man machine that stores multiple versions of the famous game. I’ve never seen anything like it. James and I are going to meet there sometime, and I’m going to watch him absorb the computer chip. The pizza is greasy and the meat is generous.

Beer
Beer of the Month at the Sax household: Summit IPA. More flavor than the reliable Summit Pale Ale and not as syrupy as Winter Ale. I love pretty much all of the Summit products, but this month belongs to IPA.

Tacos
We eat at home a lot more now that we have a home. I still like to do taco night on Wednesdays. Or Thursdays. I also like Taco Bell, and I won’t apologize for it.

Minis
Third floor at the Xcel Energy Center during Minnesota Wild hockey games. Find the cart. Give your money. Eat them donuts.

Candy
Candyland in downtown St. Paul never gets old to me. Chicago Mix popcorn, mmm. Sour cherry balls, mmm. French burnt peanuts, mmm.

Breakfast
Though technically not a food, you know what I mean. Breakfast is so frickin’ awesome. I really wish I could farm up my mentality more on eating, because I would love it if I sat down and had a big ol’ farm-fresh breakfast most mornings, whether it were at the kitchen table or out at one of the many fine Twin Cities breakfast establishments. I’ve been lucky enough to enjoy the Louisiana Cafe and the Copper Dome in recent outings. Hash browns and pancakes. Omelettes and wheat toast. Bacon and eggs. Coffee and orange juice. Me love breakfast.

Fries
I go to Sweeney’s a lot. It’s a great old St. Paul bar on Dale Street between Selby and Summit. The menu and outdoor patio have changed for the better, but the interior is as how I remember it 13 years ago. And the french fries… Oh, God. Mayonnaise-mustard sauce. Spicy seasonings. Nng-gah.

Steak
We went out for some meat at a good old local char house called Mancini’s. It was for the St. Paul Bouncing Team banquet. I won “Rookie of the Year.” Brag. Mancini’s is almost more awesome than breakfast. One side is the traditional butter knife steak and dark walls setting you’d expect from a Midwestern meatery, the other side is monstrous Naugahyde red booths, signed pictures of Tony Bennett and The Chairman on the walls, a huge “Class of ‘49″ framed poster from some local high school, and an old-time band on stage catering to an audience of oldsters and young hipsters. As we left, we heard some dude crooning a solid rendition of “Hey, there, little red riding hood…” We’ll be returning soon.

Apples
Before I got established at my new St. Paul pad, when we were nearer suburban pastorality than city grit, we spent an afternoon thieving apples from an orchard out west of Minnetrista. Between Carly, Anais, Hunter, and I, we nabbed 109 delicious apples. They were selling bags onsite that held about 30 apples for $25.00. Eff that. Sweatshirts work real good and security was lax as we made multiple trips to the trunk of the car. We had about 96 apples left after a few caramel dips and a couple of batches of apple crisp.

Corn Dogs
The I-35W bridge collapse was international Minnesota news in 2007. I had to check it out for myself. It was like the Minnesota State Fair. People with babies in strollers, roaming packs of college students, lots of camera phones, couples holding hands, all the 7 Corners bar patios full of relaxing eaters and drinkers. Some kind of tragedy, eh?

Mama’s Pizza on Rice Street

by G. Sax

Maybe not as good as Savoy (bite your tongue!) but the service is always stellarstar. It’ll be just down the road now, so I see another visit when it reopens after a devastating flood from a burst pipe last February.

Frogtown, St. Paul

by G. Sax

Frogtown can be a scary St. Paul neighborhood to the unitiated, but Dale Street sure looks nicer with a few modern townhomes supplanting the old liquor store motif, and I’d still walk down Thomas at night. I dig how the neighborhood embraces its nickname as shown by the community development office on the main drag.

Southtown Boys

by G. Sax

The Hold Steady are alright by me. It took me a little longer than most to figure this out. I get all goosebumpy at references to Southtown, Lowertown, Nicollet, Lyndale, Hwy. 169, Edina, Bloomington, City Center, and so much more. Plus Harry Potter digs them.

Red’s Savoy Pizza

by G. Sax

I think I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it from here to forever: So good.

Forget for a moment that Norm Coleman’s dad uses the surrounding neighborhood as a place to try to pick up whores.

Once inside, there is nothing but delectable pizza and chubby wombas as far as the eye can see. I can’t believe it took me more than 35 years to figure it out.