Our annual Spring Food & Wine weekend has been set for Friday and Saturday, May 5-6. We are in the process of developing our menus, but we are taking reservations now. You may rsvp online or by calling us at 218.663.7212.
Cost is $45 for Friday evening | $85 for Saturday evening. Prices do not include tax and gratuity.
Minnesota is known for its four glorious seasons. The summers are filled with tire swings, casting lines, a cold one or two on the deck, and evening campfires with all the s’mores fixings. Fall bursts with colors you have to see to believe. Winter transforms the landscape into a winter wonderland with a side of endless outdoor adventures and cozy fireplaces. As we turn towards spring, Minnesota seems to take pride in having an extra season squished right in the middle of this seasonal transition. Loving known as “Sprinter,” it doesn’t have a special date on the calendar like all of the other seasons. No, sprinter flies by the seat of its pants. Sometimes arriving as early as mid-February and staying as late as May.
Up here, we know how to do sprinter the best. You could say it’s a long-standing tradition. It can be dumping a foot of snow five miles inland, while
the shore melts away. You can hit the ski hill in the morning and cruise on spring sugar snow in a t-shirt and then hike on snow-clear trails by the Temperance in the afternoon.
With a thunderstorm one day and a snowstorm the next, sprinter keeps us all guessing. But that’s the beauty of where we live. Soon enough, we’ll move onto the next extreme and instead of comparing how cold it got at our houses, we’ll be comparing how hot it was. So for now, enjoy this moment in time where we get a bonus of two seasons in one.
Until next time, remember that the lowest fence is the easiest to get across.
I tend to like the finer things in life. A good oven pancake, Swedish pb&j (made with lefsa), homemade wild rice hot dish (I’ve included mama’s recipe below), among others. When it comes beer, a good ‘ole Bush light often hits the spot. I haven’t gotten too much into the latest craft beer craze, but I’ve been known to test a few out. Who can say “no” to beer?
This weekend just so happens to be the resort’s annual beer lover’s dinner. Where, get this. You can sample a number of Castle Danger’s craft brews. As an attendee in the past, I can assure you – these are healthy-sized samples. The new Executive Chef, Ian Heieie, has a menu even mama would approve of.
I’ve heard there are a few more seats available and with the colossal snow storm we’re forecasted to get slammed with, what better way to spend the time then sipping a good brew and watching the snow fall. See you all there.
Until next time, raise a glass to old man winter – he’s not done yet.
As promised, mama’s wild rice hot dish recipe is below.
1 ¼ cup wild rice (soak the rice overnight)
Boil about 2 cups of water and then place then put the rice in it and soak overnight
2 sticks of celery, chopped
½ of an onion, diced
Sauté the celery and onion in butter, 1 cup of mushrooms optional but recommended
Brown 1 pound of hamburger (drain off grease)
Mix 1 package of thawed little smokies into the hamburger
Mix all of the ingredients together with 2 cans of cream of mushroom soup
Add a little water, ½ cup – 1 cup for consistency
Put everything in a roasting dish or a 2 quart baking dish, sprinkle with French onion topping for an added crunch
Bake in the oven at 350 for 20 minutes
If you’re interested in attending the Annual Beer Lover’s Dinner this Friday, February 24, call 218.663.7212 to RSVP.
A long standing tradition in Northeastern Minnesota is the one and only, John Beargrease Sled Dog Marathon. For those who are not familiar with the race, it serves to honor John and his contribution to the North Shore. For nearly twenty years, John and his brothers delivered mail to communities from Two Harbors to Grand Marais while out on their hunting and trapping routes. Each year, at the end of January mushers ready their dogs and head out on the trail for a grueling 350+ mile race, paying homage to John’s mail run.
My husband has handled multiple times for friends of ours, I’ve been at various checkpoints and assisted so I know a thing or two. This year my husband couldn’t fit it into his work schedule, so the next best stand-in…Helga of course! How hard can it be? After all, Phoebe’s husband Oscar was only running the mid-distance (120 miles). Pulling an all-nighter? No problem!
We rose early Sunday morning and finished loading up essentials such as: headlamp with extra batteries, snickers, reese’s peanut butter cups, sour patch kids, chips…check, adult pedialyte (tomato juice with other essential vitamins and minerals), celery sticks and of course a blanket and pillow. I was still operating under the assumption I would have some time to sleep.
The start of a sled dog race is exciting. The adrenaline is addicting and can be felt from dog to musher to spectator. As the dogs get harnessed up and put on the line, they are yipping and tugging – ready to go! When you bring a dog team through the chute, it makes you almost want to hop on that sled and drive them out yourself, until you jump into a warm vehicle. Then the thought melts away.
The mid-distance race starts in Two Harbors with checkpoints in Finland and Caribou then finishing at Trail Center, up the Gunflint Trail. Oscar arrived into Finland in good time and we bedded the dogs down for a rest. Around 7 pm that evening, we shipped him back onto the trail towards Caribou. Reality started to set in once he left the chute. It was dark, the temp was dropping and we were on our own. No more friends and family to keep us company on this long night ahead.
We made it to Caribou, strung out the line, cooked up a beaver meat stew for the dogs and checked the GPS tracker religiously every two minutes. Standing next to the fire, waiting for Oscar to come in, there was no wind and complete silence. Other than the sound of our breathing and the fire crackling – it was quiet. I peered up for a moment and will never forget how bright the stars looked in that clear night sky. For a moment I thought, this isn’t so bad.
Oscar rolled in shortly before midnight and headed back out for the finish after 4 am. We picked up the hay, loaded the blankets, line and prepared another dish of beaver meat stew and set out for Trail Center. When we arrived, it was a hard choice between catching some shut eye or eating real food. My teeth groaned for a tooth brush and my mouth was nearly raw from all of the sour patch kids. We opted for real food and I’m not sure if it’s just because I was sleep deprived, but it was the best breakfast I’ve had! I highly recommend the roast beef hash!
There was a sense of “we’ve made it” after breakfast. You know when Harry and Lloyd finally made it to Aspen? Insert Phoebe and Helga. We checked the tracker one last time. It said Oscar would be in around 9:30 am. We decided to set our alarms for 9 am. That would give us some wiggle room in case the tracker was off a little. We settled in for a nice three-hour nap. At 8 am we were abruptly woken by a fellow handler, “Helga, Phoebe! Get up! Oscar is a mile out!” What!? We jumped out of the truck and ran to the finish just in time for Oscar to make his way out on the lake.
There was a sense of accomplishment to make it all the way through. It was only the mid-distance, remember? Running the mid-distance as a musher has been something on my bucket list for a long time. However, after handling for it, I felt the need to re-evaluate this line item. My new goal is to run the rec race from Two Harbors to Finland and call it good.
Now that I’ve had a good week to recover, I look back to the time when Phoebe asked me to help handle. We both had the same thoughts. “It’s only one night,” we said. “We can do this, it’ll be fun.” It was fun at times, it was peaceful at times. But it was also tiring and I tip my hat to those who handle and run dogs. It’s not as easy as it looks.
Until next time, don’t forget to look up every now and then.
For those of you who know Chef Rob Wells, our chef for a decade who has provided creativity, and quality to our dining; Rob left the first of the year to head off for a change in career. We wish him the very best and he will be missed. We are fortunate to have found an excellent new chef, Ian Heieie, who is joining us from “The Bachelor Farmer” in the Twin Cities. Ian arrived mid-December and shares our respect for utilizing quality, locally-produced food and we’re happy to have him part of our family.
To celebrate Ian’s arrival and introduce him to all of you, we will be holding a “Meet the Chef” dinner on February 4th. This intimate, 4-course dinner, presented by Chef Ian with wine pairings by North Shore Winery. A true farm-to-table experience, Chef Ian will be serving dishes prepared with a farm-raised Mangalitsa boar from Yker Acres. Durning dinner Chef Ian will be visiting with us about the menu items and his culinary philosophy.
Cost is $50 per person. Call 218.663.7212 for reservations.
First Course | Roasted bacon, brussel sprouts, poached egg and grain mustard vinaigrette. Second Course | Fresh cow’s milk cheese and Lacinato Kale Cannelloni. Third Course | Grilled pork leg, sweet and sour beets, roasted potatoes, creme fraiche and pickled shallots. Dessert | Curried squash creme brulee, whipped creme and candied apple.
I’m not sure how to describe my love of skiing, alpine that is. Cross-country is too much like working at a labor camp so I save that for rare occasions. I grew up skiing and conquering the art of bombing hills at the ripe ole’ age of 5 and I haven’t looked back since. I don’t care if it’s -20F in January or 65F in May, if there’s snow I’m there.
Mom, I’ve got this.
A couple of weeks ago I hit the slopes for the first time this year and I couldn’t have had a better experience. Though there were only a few runs open, there was plenty of snow for the special skier I had with me; my coming 3-year-old son Theo. My husband would rather him spend his time at the rink because after all, we do live in the hockey capital of the world. But if I could persuade Theo just slightly, I was going to give it my best shot.
To start the day, we went down Big Bunny. Why not? This was only his first time ever on skis and he was going to be a natural. I had this visual in my mind that I’d put the harness on him and we’d be skiing gracefully down the hill all day long. After performing a series of squats and begging him to stand up and not sit in my arms while I desperately wished I had a sweat towel and a Bloody Mary, we made the mutual decision to work Flap Jack instead.
After the second run down I was no longer allowed to help him. I was instructed to “stay over there Mom,” which meant I was supposed to ski on the side of him and “don’t help me!” If I aided him in any fashion, I was disrupting his skiing. There was only one situation in which I could step in – stopping him before crashing into the fence at the bottom.
After 3 ½ hours of skiing, I decided to call it a day. But not after coaxing him with hot chocolate because we had about 50 “one more time” trips down the hill. We came, we conquered bombing the hill and he was sleeping before we got to highway 61.
If you have a little one that you want to get out on skis I encourage you to do it – but stick to Flap Jack. I gave up on thinking I would teach him how to carve the hill or slowdown in his first lesson. We just focused on balance and making it fun. The ski hill offers free passes to those 5 years old and under which is all the more reason to expose the little ones to another outdoor activity like skiing.
I couldn’t have been more proud of him and it went down in the books as one of my best times at the ski hill. I see skis in our future and a lot less ice rinks 😃
Last week every meteorologist warned of the coming cold snap and each night we watched intently as they described the overnight and midday temps for the coming day. What is it about the weather that gets us so riled up? This past Thursday morning, it was cold! All night the wind blew against the house and when I headed off to work, I made sure to snap a picture of our temp gauge in the darkness of our kitchen. I just knew it had to be cold and when I got to the safety of my car, I took a look; what! -23! Yes! Once you reach the 20s, now we’re talking. That single digit and teens are small potatoes.
This past Thursday morning, it was cold. All night the wind blew against the house, box and when I headed off to work, I made sure to snap a picture of our temp gauge in the darkness of our kitchen. I just knew it had to be cold and when I got to the safety of my car, I took a look; what! -23! Yes! Once you reach the 20s, now we’re talking. Those single digits and teens are small potatoes.
I couldn’t wait to share this important information with the one person I knew would appreciate it more than anyone – the patriarch. After all, he’s a logger and also farms. Weather is an intricate part of his daily life. I dialed him up and tried to keep my composure as I made some quick small talk and then came in for the clincher – “So, what temp did you guys have this morning?” He responded calmly with, “Ah, about -9; what’d you guys have?” I couldn’t wait to blurt out, “-23!” I got a big, “Oh boy” from my dad and I was gleaming with pride.
I arrived at the office and settled into the morning banter which of course, surrounded the weather. As we exchanged pleasantries about how cold it was at our homes, I whipped out my phone to pull up the image I took of the temp. As I looked at it, I was dismayed. Now in the light of day, I could see the truth. It read -23 C. Nooooooooh!
As proud Minnesotans, we live for these days. They’re what give us our grit and heartiness to wear shorts while shoveling the driveway. When someone asks where we’re from, we don’t just say Minnesota, we say “Northern Minnesota.” After all, it’s about 3 degrees colder up here and that’s a big deal. With the temps on the rise to the mid-20s, this will all seem like a thing of the past…until next week.
In the meantime, grab some goulash with a side of tapioca and everything will be ok.
P.S. In case anyone was wondering, we had -24F Saturday morning. I didn’t capture a photo for evidence, but you can take my word for it.
Now that I’ve had some time to unwind from Thanksgiving, I can look back on it and laugh. Why do we do this to ourselves? You’ve heard the saying, “There’s one in every family…” maybe two, three, four, ten? Who’s counting really?
This year’s joyous gathering was no different than the past. There were still the old favorites like too much food that no human should physically consume in a week let alone 4 hours. Mom’s favorite (because she makes 98% of them) “The Parade of Pies” – literally 13 this year!
The winning carrot!
The endless sharing of recipes or new takes on an old goodie; who grew the biggest or the most veggies this year – again, the award goes to mommy dearest. And who could forget the one dish that always seems to be forgotten in the oven until that wonderful burnt squash aroma starts filtering through the house.
Our family starts planning for Thanksgiving after the last piece of pie has been eaten. “Next year, we should have it at the farm next,” says Aunt Louise. “No, Fin and Margaret should host because they should be finished building their house,” pipes up Margaret’s mom. Really?? Because who doesn’t enjoy the process of moving, followed by a herd of hungry hippos crashing through the door! Well, next year’s location is still TBD.
I liken our family Thanksgiving to the Griswolds. If something can go wrong it will, and if it hasn’t gone wrong yet…it will. But even as the house exploded around us, I had to remember…this is…my family. And no matter what, we care about and love each other. Well, most of the time. We may be a special kind of crazy, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything.
Until next time, be yourself. Everyone else is taken. (Oscar Wilde)