It’s not very often that I blog about Culture Club, but because during dinner BRK and I discussed the difficulties of blogging, I felt it was fitting.
After a particularly arduous day at work, Kristen arrived at the njbuk residence a little behind schedule. We decided to scrap the movie section of culture night and headed to Edina to get some grub. BRK picked Salut Bar Americain as our restaurant. It’s right next to our usual digs, The Edina Grill, and was usually pretty busy.
My initial assumption was that we were going to some fancy pants American grill, like an overpriced Applebees on crack. We were in Edina, after all. When I checked in with foursquare, I was surprised to discover that Salut was a French restaurant. I’ve never been to a French restaurant before! I thought to myself. Actually, I’m pretty sure I said it out loud.
They served a mini loaf of bread inside a bag along with a little tub of whipped up butter. The butter was white and kind of pearlescent, but it was the best damn butter I’ve ever tasted. I wondered if all French butter is like that. Then I wondered if all French restaurants had a giant container of sea salt on their tables. And then I wondered why the restaurant was named “Bar Americain” and not “Bar French” . . . or whatever French is in French.
I ended up ordering the Barramundi, which is was light, white, flaky fish. (I’d never heard of it, so I looked it up on the interwebs before ordering. Popular in Thai food, apparently.) I also indulged in a glass or two of Pinot Noir. (Note to self: Buy Cellar No. 8) And a slice of Red Velvet Cake. Come on, it’s Culture Club! BRK and I agreed it was the best RVC ever. Evar!
Oh, and also our waiter, Raul, had a fun accent and smelled nice.
After last night, I felt sufficiently cultured.
you did. you did say it out loud. i really need to get back to that blog.