Where to Eat in the Twin Cities, And Taste the World
For the past five years, my partner Andrew and I have made our living bouncing around the world, exploring new countries, eating delicious things, and writing about them. So when we finally decided to put down roots, we needed a place that felt both culturally rich and culinarily diverse. After an intense 16-month, 40-state, 229-city search, we picked the Twin Cities: Minneapolis and St. Paul. Surprising? Maybe. But it was the multilayered food scene that sealed the deal. Whatever we craved—Cambodian larb, Afghan kebabs, Russian pelmeni, Nepalese momos, Ecuadorian llapingachos—the world came to us. Here are a few of my favorite spots.
Photo by Ashley Sullivan1/9Union Kitchen
When you dial 311 in Minneapolis, the phone-tree menu is translated into Spanish, Somali, and Hmong. That’s because Minnesota is home to the nation’s second largest Hmong community. And while I love getting hopelessly lost inside St. Paul’s labyrinthine Hmong marketplaces, it’s fun to see younger chefs like Union Kitchen’s Yia Vang and Chris Her riffing on the flavors they grew up with. Their residency in a mobile kitchen parked outside Sociable Cider Werks lasts through January 2020, which means I’ll be spending the rest of this year eating grilled duck heart lettuce wraps and hot dogs topped with Hmong sausage curry Bolognese.
Photo by Ashley Sullivan2/9Marla’s Caribbean Cuisine
Every time I order the vegan channa or callaloo with tofu at Marla’s Caribbean Cuisine, server/rapper MN Fats asks my preferred spice level. I say “Indian hot,” which is the second spiciest option out of five on Trinidadian chef Marla Jadoonanan’s inferno scale. He gives me a hard stare; I assure him I can handle it. Then the dish arrives. One whiff and my nose hairs catch fire, but I dig in, sucking down peanut punch and gorging on split pea–stuffed flatbread to quell the burn. I can’t let MN Fats see me sweat. Oh, who am I kidding? He’s refilled my water glass twice. [Editor's note: Chef Jadoonanan recently announced that she would be closing her restaurant in June due to increased rent. She will still offer catering and may open another restaurant in the future.]
Photo by Ashley Sullivan3/9Fika
One of my favorite ways to spend an afternoon is browsing the exhibition spaces at the American Swedish Institute, in part because I begin each visit at Fika, its Nordic-inspired café helmed by chef Blake Meier. The fresh-baked cardamom buns are quick to disappear, so I start there, then move on to juniper-spiced Swedish meatballs (way better than those bouncy orbs from Ikea) or smörgåsar: open- face sandwiches on Danish rye with seasonal toppings. And to drink? The Bloody Swede, with Minnesota-made Skaalvenn aquavit and earthy beet brine.
Photo by Ashley Sullivan4/9Hai Hai
The Twin Cities aren’t exactly known for their mild winters. When it’s 15 below and the snowbanks are up to my elbows, I head to the sunny, plant-filled paradise of Hai Hai. Chef and co-owner Christina Nguyen has transformed a former strip club into a little slice of street food heaven, taking menu cues from a host of Southeast Asian countries. Deciding what to get—the Vietnamese water fern cakes or the banana blossom salad? the Malaysian-style laksa shrimp and grits or the Balinese chicken thigh?—is the hardest part. My M.O.: Order all the above and bank on leftovers.
Photo by Ashley Sullivan5/9Popol Vuh and Centro
Like Minneapolis and St. Paul, Popol Vuh and Centro may be joined at the hip, but their looks and personalities are wholly fraternal. James Beard Award–nominated chef Jose Alarcon oversees both kitchens, so which direction I turn after passing through the street art–laden entrance depends on my mood: I make a left for Centro when I want to gulp down fish tacos and mezcal-spiked guava kombucha slushies in a festive dining room. I make a right for Popol Vuh’s more refined experience—hand-pressed red tortillas slicked with squid ink aioli and topped with chorizo, papas, and a curl of blackened octopus. Either way, I win.
Photo by Ashley Sullivan6/9PinKU
If I were ever in a desert-island situation, subsisting on canned mackerel and Tang, the dish I’d dream most about eating is the crunchy, browned rectangle of rice topped with spicy tuna, serrano pepper slices, and daikon at PinKU Japanese Street Food. Each item from the mix-and-match menu at chef John Sugimura’s fast-casual eatery is served on a cafeteria tray, and though I’d happily fill it with nothing but tuna, I always make room for the gyoza and a special like onigiri or crackly karaage fried chicken.
Photo by Ashley Sullivan7/9Quruxlow
Minnesota is home to the largest Somali diaspora in the country, and it was from a guide at the Somali Museum that I learned about Quruxlow. The family-friendly, gaudily mirrored space is pure fun with its painted cloud ceiling and marine cutouts suspended in a waterless fish tank. I order the KK, strips of heavily sauced chapati with stir-fried chicken suqaar and a big plate of rice studded with onions and raisins. Go early to sample goat parts over spaghetti—it always sells out.
Photo by Ashley Sullivan8/9Global Grocery Stores
Don’t just stop for the restaurants on your world food tour; markets are just as essential for their produce and prepared goods. Holy Land is a Middle Eastern deli serving Egyptian feta, Jordanian olive oil, and oven-hot pita bread. From licorice to lutefisk, Ingebretsen’s is a 98-year-old market brims with Nordic delights. Kramarczuk’s is a 65-year-old Ukrainian-owned spot that makes the Cities’ best kishka and kolaches. Hmongtown and Hmong Village are rival indoor/outdoor markets sell medicinal herbs, textiles, and chiles by the bucket.
Photo by Fariba9/9Babani’s
Said to be the first Kurdish restaurant to open in the U.S. back in 1997, Babani’s is housed in a gulag-blocky, Dunder Mifflin–esque office building. It’s not hip by any stretch, but the food is transportive. I live for the kubey brinj—crispy fried rice dumplings stuffed with ground beef, minced onions, and walnuts. But no meal is complete without pillowy Kurdish bread and a steaming bowl of dowjic: yogurty, lemony chicken soup for the soul.
