Hand-spun milkshake at The Nicollet Diner
Ice Cream in a Minnesota October. Hear Me Out.
Minnesota tries to convince you that ice cream is a June food. Minnesota is wrong. Ice cream is a thermostat food. The room is warm. The dessert is cold. That is the entire technology.
October in Minneapolis is when people start talking about "last patio weekend" as if they are closing a summer camp. Fine. Close the patio when you have to. Do not close the ice cream freezer. A hot fudge sundae after a late dinner is how you tell October to sit down. A Campfire milkshake in a cold week is how you steal July back for twelve minutes.
We keep pies on the board. Apple. French silk. Cheesecake if you want to pretend you are at a different kind of restaurant. Muffin tops, because this family of businesses has never been subtle about baked goods. But the ice cream case is the one that makes grown adults point like kids.
There is a particular downtown guest who orders a burger, eats half, looks at the shake list, and says "we shouldn't." Then they should. That person is correct the second time.
If you are the guest who only eats ice cream when the state fair is open, I need you to be braver. 1333 Nicollet Mall. Any hour. The straw is optional. The whipped cream is not a debate.
ā Sam