By Marilyn Hagerty
Once upon a time, salad was once iceberg lettuce with a number of shredded carrots and a cucumber slice, in case you have been fortunate. A vegetable part used to be potatoes—would you're keen on these baked, mashed, or au gratin? a pleasant anniversary dinner? may you fairly stopover at the vacation hotel or the Regency resort? In Grand Forks, North Dakota, a small city the place professors moonlight as farmers, farmers moonlight as soccer coaches, and everybody loves hockey, one lady has had the solutions for greater than twenty-five years: Marilyn Hagerty. In her weekly Eatbeat column within the neighborhood paper, Marilyn offers the denizens of Grand Forks the immediately scoop on every thing from the simplest blue plate specials—beef stroganoff on the Pantry—to the premiere truck stops—the mammoth Sioux (and its lutefisk lunch special)—to the atmosphere of the town's first Taco Bell. Her verdict? "A cool pastel oasis on a scorching day."
No-nonsense yet wry, earnest yet self-aware, Eatbeat additionally encourages the easiest in its readers—reminding them to tip good and why—and serves as its personal form of down-home social sign in, peopled with tales of ex–postal staff became café vendors and promenade queen waitresses. jam-packed with experiences of the mom-and-pop diners that finally gave approach to fast-food joints and the Norwegian specialties that eventually pale away within the face of the Olive Garden's unending breadsticks, Grand Forks is greater than only a loving examine the shifts in American eating within the final years of the 20 th century—it can also be an incredibly relocating and hilarious portrait of the indispensable American city, one all of us realize in our hearts despite the place we are from.