Destiny's Children
(Note- This is an homage to the worst writer ever: Sid Hartman. I'm writing it as if he were watching the WTF Crew eat. So it is Vin writing as Sid would about Vin. And no, Michael Cain was not there, so this could be a dream.)
Many of the geniuses in town think WTF is dead. I knew they would come back. If any other blog team had half the problems that they do, they would quit. They've been unlucky. There's a reason these guys keep eating out.
This looked like an awful place to eat. This crew said they like hole in the wall places. Well, Destiny Cafe didn't even have a front. The front is the back. Still, WTF showed up. They came in four different cars. Some people out there think they hate each other and that is why they don't review more, but that was not the case. They were laughing and looked like each had a few beers before. Let me tell you something, to even walk in this place showed class.
And they did. Bud Grant once told me once it's not the coach it's the players. Just win baby. Well, these players were the only non-Hmong people in there. That didn't bother them. The Hmong weren't bothered either. Maybe the waitress was. There was a lot of confusion and the ordering took a long time. It wasn't their fault. It wasn't her fault either. It was just the way the ball bounces. Most people I know would have left. These guys are tough and they have heart and ordered beer.
I've been in this business for 56 years and I can tell when people know what they are doing. Well, these guys are for real. They talked politics and wondered about Jackass 3. Then when it came to crunch time they ate. And then they showed what they were all about. Vin loved the Namtook Beef Brisket and raved about the Hmong Sausages. He was pretty clueless about how to eat the Pho' Destiny Lub Paj. No one serves a Pho with crab, shrimp, pork, beef, and meatballs. This place does. So you have to take your hat off to the guy for eating it and liking it.
I'm sure I'll get my share of criticism for writing this hidden behind a poster of Hmong War Generals. But I needed to see what these guys go through. If you only knew half of what they go through being them, you'd understand. The end of the meal came and they walked right up to the cash register. True to their nature, they befriended the owner and threw down 4 twenties. Everyone was smiling. Then they got in their four cars and drove off. All you people who jumped off this bandwagon are going to wish you got back on. 3 tines.
Drew:
I'm not proud to admit this, but the likelihood that you will see my mugshot on a police blotter for having carnal knowledge of a pig just went up a few percentage points, specifically-due to Destiny Cafe's corruptingly-delicious Hmong sausage. Before entering this lecherous place I had already harbored a deep-seated and profound affection for swine, but this Hmong eatery brought me to a frightening place emotionally.
It was a setup, though. The owners clearly designed this place to create an atmosphere which blurs the lines between gastronomic and carnal pleasures. The pork belly suggestively-spinning on the spit under voluptuous fluorescent lighting, combined with the salaciously-subliminal images and tones of Laotian karaoke are simply too powerful for one man and his fragile Midwestern moralities. Sure, I feel manipulated, but even now, teetering on the precipice of becoming a level-3 sex offender in a PETA database, I have no regrets.
I recommend Destiny Cafe for diners with a sexual-identity firmly grounded in their own species. (4 tines)
Trick:
Despite my repeated pleas, I cannot wring a copy of Destiny Café’s menu from my fellow bloggers, which I initially interpreted as a not unreasonable signal to get off my ass and take my own notes during our next restaurant outing. But then an e-mail this afternoon from our editor-in-chief, Adolf Hitler, got to the heart of the matter: I was taking too long to compose my “next Steinbeck novel.” OK, I get it; I write too much. Since nothing could get me as exercised as the utter stupidity of our last experience at the Gopher Bar—and indignation is the cause of most overlong writing—I’ll keep this (relatively) short.
I loved Destiny Café. It is everything this blog was supposed to be about. It is a small, family-owned establishment where the food is made fresh and the ingredients are locally sourced. It is also tucked away in the unlikeliest of spots, making it sparsely reviewed by the city’s Uptown-loving food critics. In fact, it is the location that is half the magic. Technically on University Avenue, the entrance is on the back side of the building housing the Hmong Cultural Center and not visible from the street. You can cut through the parking lot for Johnny Baby’s Bar if you want a direct route, but for a more enjoyable cultural diversion, I recommend going in through the front door, which takes you by the cultural center’s grocery store and other small shops. (For the full-Monty Hmong experience, get your toenails polished and your hair feathered at the ladies’ salon before the meal.) The dining room itself is exactly what you’d want and expect out of the experience. It has the atmosphere of a miniature karaoke dance hall and the lighting of a CIA rendition chamber. In other words, for the dollar’s worth of gas you have to expend on the trip, you are instantly transported to Southeast Asia. That’s right—you can still enjoy international travel during the recession!
And what about the food? The few online reviews that already exist for Destiny Café describe its pho, whose blend of cilantro and coconut gave them a delicious
Thai flavor I didn’t anticipate. These reviews also speculate on the provenance of menu item #25, the pig uteri (Latin plurals belong in medical books, not menus, so we stayed clear of that one). But they don’t mention what for me were the best and most savory items of all. The Hmong are a highland people, right? Well, what do you get when you go as far away from the Middle East as possible and then throw in a highland culture? That’s right, you get pork . And for my money—and believe me, Destiny Café didn’t require me to spend much of it—the pork sausages were among the best I’ve had in the Twin Cities. Yep, better than the overpriced maple-syrup-infused crap at Hell’s Kitchen and way better than the stuff the Gasthof calls
German. The pork bellies were even more wonderful, perfectly oiled and salted and just a little crispy. Even if you’ve had bypass surgery, you’ll have to treat yourself to those.
Overall rating for Destiny Café: 4 tines
Curtis:
Before dining on a beautiful autumn evening, the WTF cult take a brief sojourn to The Dubliner Pub for a pint, a chance to regroup, make a food plan, enjoy time out. So naturally, the first half-pissed, needy drunk we run into decides to tell us his pathetic, fucktard life story. Over and over and over again. Why is it whenever we go out some dumbass gets brave and shares too fucking much? I don’t give a shit about your wife, your mother-in-law, your brother or really any aspect of your sad, little, BORING life. Please tell it to the light post outside the bar. Unless it’s interesting, like you did smack with Miles Davis or banged someone famous I’d be impressed with (and have visual proof), then go away.
On to the meat of the biscuit. We tried to get into Destiny Cafe last winter one Friday night but it seemed to be closed for a private event. My guess was cockfights, but I have no proof. At all. Tucked inside a little strip mall, you can come here for a meal and are then energized for the shops that surround the place. Pick up some groceries, enjoy some grooming, whatever floats yer boat. The food here is fantastic, the flavors were fresh, bold and prepared with care. The pho, curried beef, and especially the Hmong sausage were standouts. The staff was incredibly helpful and seemed genuinely interested in making sure our experience was enjoyable. I’d go back, and plan to, often. This may not be the most romantic place in the world, or provide that faux decor of being transported to another place or time, but if you love food, if you love good, fresh food, you’ll be well served at Destiny Cafe.
4 tines, baby.
