This is why I love the Grandview Grill

Back when I owned a house with a fully outfitted kitchen, I created and consumed something like five omelets a week. I was an omelet connoisseur. I had a special pan and spatula, ideal for making perfectly formed, thick, Frisbee-sized omelets.

First I’d make the batter using a combination of Southwestern Egg Beaters and real eggs for just the right consistency, mixed with a little black pepper and Kick Ass brand hot sauce.

Some kind of filleted meat ingredient was imperative. I used a rotation of chicken, shrimp, salmon, ham, bacon and sausage – sometimes more than one at a time.

Then I’d yank out the biggest, sharpest knife in my Wusthof-Trident collection, empty the fridge of every vegetable (onions, green peppers, red peppers, celery, shallots, carrots, tomatoes, broccoli, mushrooms, etc), chop up a small pile of each and toss all that in.

I’d sauté this colorful mountain of ingredients together in olive oil and sometimes white wine if an open bottle was handy, pour in the batter, let one side firm up, flip that mother (two feet of air, with accompanying ‘ooohs’ and ‘aahs’ from the collective audience), then firm the other side while piling on the shredded cheese (usually Sargento’s Four Cheese Mexican with Monterey Jack, Cheddar, Queso Quesadilla and Asadero).

Finally, the fold-over, then left to sit for just a few moments so the remainder of the cheese could melt. I’d put two slices of wheat toast with light butter on the side.

Brothers and sisters, this meal was the only reason to get out of bed most weekends. I had no equal. I made omelets like Renoir made paintings. When I’d serve an omelet, birds would sing, a Beethoven aria would spontaneously rise up and an angel would get its wings.

Even so, there were mornings, say after a bottle of wine and five Tequila Sunrises, that I’d struggle out of bed at 11:30am and could not be bothered to make the magic happen. On those mornings I went to the Grandview Grill, where I’d lazily consume an Everything Omelet, three Cokes and a chocolate shake. Then I’d go home, take a two hour nap, badda bing, badda boom, no more hangover. Plus, it’d be like 5pm by that point, meaning I could open another bottle of wine.

The Grandview’s Everything Omelet isn’t for everyone. It’s big. It’s greasy. It’s more ingredients than most people want in their mouths all at the same time. And when combined with the hash browns and toast, it could put Andrew Zimmern into a food coma. But that was part of the attraction. The super cute waitresses from Macalester was the other part.

I’m aware that the Uptown Diner and the Louisiana Café have the exact same menu, but the Grandview serves the good, thick wheat toast and puts the all important Sriracha Hot Chili Sauce on the table. Plus, the waitresses…

Although transport limitations and my diminished capacity for semi-professional boozing bring me to the doors of the Grandview much less frequently these days, I still have fond memories (sort of, I was usually pretty slaughtered) of my lengthy weekend brunches. Meanwhile, I am going through the very slow discovery process of identifying choice brunching options within staggering distance of the new TIWILM compound in downtown Minneapolis. All suggestions welcome.

Grandview Grill
1818 Grand Avenue
St Paul, MN 55105
651-698-2346

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Eating | 30.10.2007 16:20 | Comments Off on This is why I love the Grandview Grill

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