I had the crab cake basket, which included a very yummy crab cake, a corn and red onion salsa and some pretty tasty coleslaw (I only started eating coleslaw recently, so I am no aficionado, but I thought it was tasty). I also had a Surly Furious, which was delicious, as per usual.

Ian had a fried oyster po-boy and a Ommegang Hennepin. I was not lying about the delicious beer. And we shared the aforementioned calamari, which came with a delicious dipping sauce that I was too busy eating to think too much about.

In addition to eating yummy seafood and drinking yummy beer, we saw many adorable dogs, including what appeared to be a wheaten terrier puppy, poodles in two sizes (miniature and standard) and an English pointer (?). It was dogtastic. Awesome!

All of which means that I foresee future bike trips ending with a beer and seafood at Sea Salt.

Ah, Al’s. It’s the Minneapolis classic I’ve been hearing about for a decade, without actually hearing much information: It’s narrow. It’s dinery. The people love it. All of the people.

It’s all true. Here’s something else that’s true – Al’s knows their carbs. Every carb-based food item we tried when we visited on Good Friday was awesome. Blueberry pancakes? Awesome. Waffle? Awesome (or at least that’s what Ian said, and I don’t think he’d lie about waffles). Hashbrowns? Extra awesome (crispy crust, appropriate level of grease). Okay, the toast was just regular supermarket bread, but it doesn’t really count. You think I’m there for the toast? You are mistaken.

You know what else was awesome? The bacon. Bacon is hard to mess up, because it’s bacon, and therefore intrinsically awesome, but this was really good bacon. The eggs I had were just fine; they were diner eggs. They just paled in comparison to the hash browns and bacon.

What about the narrow? What about the waiting? All true. Al’s has fourteen seats, all at the counter. That means there are about fourteen standing spots right behind those fourteen seats. And every time someone arrives or leaves, there’s a complicated choreography of making room for movement related to entering or leaving.

But while we waited, I had no choice but to watch the cook make pancakes (mmm… pancakes) and hashbrowns (double mmm… hashbrowns) while eavesdropping on all the people in line in front of me and dining at the counter. So, while I was sad at first about waiting, I realized that the wait is the best part.

Because when do you get to watch the operation run like clockwork (what choice do you have? There are fourteen seats!) Our wait and our meal took approximately one hour, since the hour we had on the parking meter had expired, but we had not yet received a ticket despite the vigilance/near-psychic ticketing powers of the Dinkeytown meter maids. They must completely turn over the seats 3+ times an hour.

Where else can I hear conversations where it sounds like the people are talking about drugs, but really they are talking about Aveda products? Or about the fart-producing abilities of various Surly brews (one Al’s patron reports that the Cynic is way more potent than the Bender. Now you know)?

Where else can you hear conversations like:
Waitress: Do you want coffee?
Sorority-looking Girl: No.
W: Can I get you something else?
SG: Juice.
W: What KIND?

And the hashbrowns. Mmm… hashbrowns. Also, they are super quick with the coffee, and it’s the right temperature to guzzle pretty much right away. They’ve thought of everything.