Shakshuka at Pat’s Tap / Danielle Gernes for DRAFT
Right now in Minnesota, it’s that spectacular/brutal season when icicles dangling from trees glint sunlight like prisms, and frigid winds whip through every layer of clothing and dig into your bones. You’ll happily trade classy for cozy, and refined for rib-sticking. But at Pat’s Tap, you don’t really have to: Distinctive dishes are wrapped in the wool afghan of a warm eatery and comfort food, and the beer—no less than 120 of them in cans (plus 20 thoughtfully curated taps)—are the icing on the, well, ice.
Restaurateur Kim Bartmann stumbled on Pat’s back when it was a seedy locals’ dive bar called Casey’s; she stopped by for beers with her broomball teammates, and when it was up for sale, she decided to buy it, adding to her small collection of much-admired Twin Cites eateries. Pat’s holds on to the best parts of diveyness with low lighting and sweatshirt ease; a clever redesign spunked things up. When the hood was removed from the kitchen, Bartmann unearthed a ’50s-era pink poodle wallpaper; she commissioned an artist to recreate the print and plastered it throughout the space. She also discovered a small, rectangular addition toward the back of the bar, and knew immediately what would fit there: Skee ball machines.
“I love the Minnesota State Fair, and I need to be physically removed from the Skee ball machines,” she laughs. Four of them, all vintage, line the wall.
There are three reasons it’s called Pat’s Tap: 1. There was a bar called Pat’s Tap in Bartmann’s native Appleton, Wisc.; 2., It’s a palindrome; and 3., Most importantly, Pat is Bartmann’s mom. The Wall Street Journal-style illustration of Pat, a bespectacled, adorably wide-grinning lady is prominently placed on the menu. (Bartmann admits she didn’t tell her mom about the homage until the day Pat’s opened; she now gets a kick out of being the Pat.) There’s another, lesser-known nod to the restaurant’s matriarch, a simple condiment that accompanies the iceberg salad: “Until I did Pat’s, it would’ve been over my dead body I would serve ranch dressing,” Bartmann says. “But my mom loves ranch dressing, so she got ranch.”
It’s the kind of lightheartedness you need for a menu that deftly maneuvers between the comfortable (fish and chips, bangers and mash) and the unexpected (lamb gnocchi, vegetable curry), all elevated by thoughtful preparation. Most popular, the Big Cheeseburger is a girthier-than-your-mouth-can-handle patty of locally sourced Limousin beef, crowned with a quarter-inch slab of cheese caramelized on the grill. It’s a must-try as far as burgers go, but as far as everything goes, the shakshuka is among the most provocative plates. A traditional Middle Eastern dish, it starts with a layer of mint-speckled couscous, spicy roasted peppers in a thick tomato sauce topped with two perfectly poached eggs, surrounded by big, white crumbles of feta and sprinkled with cilantro.
But if you’re just stopping by for a beer and a bite, indulge in the other State Fair plug: cheese curds. Built with sturdy cheese from Ellsworth Creamery in Wisconsin, the perfectly chewy nuggets wear a flaky crisp and get a spicy kick from peppery house-made ketchup.
But back to the beers (all 130-plus of them): You won’t go wrong with a sampler from the tap selection (four healthy pours for a cool $10); on my visit, Pat’s was finishing off a keg of the Fitgers/Bent Paddle Smoked Rye collaboration; local and rare pours are a given here. The can list is accompanied by a “canifesto,” snappily explaining the benefits of aluminum: “Pat is a fan of skunks and other cute little critters, but not when they’re associated with a cold one.” The list’s breadth is credited, in part, to healthy competition with Philadelphia’s Percy Street Barbecue, which is also determined to offer the most canned beers in the country. Get past the pale lagers to see its impressively top-notch craft from ciders to Scotch ales, with a steep lean toward regional favorites like Surly, Big Wood and Third Street.
As it gets late, the buzzing spot can bump up to noisy, drowning out the sounds of Skee balls thunking and rolling on wood. But there’s no need to rush out in sub-zero temperatures just yet: Work off the hearty plates with a fair game or two, just like Pat would want you to.
from DRAFT Magazine http://ift.tt/1As5zuJ
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