Rick Nelson's 10 fair favorites

Sure, you probably know the roasted corn, the pork chop on a stick, the strawberry malts, the Sweet Martha's cookies, the mini-donuts, the deep-fried cheese curds, the Pronto Pups and other iconic Minnesota State Fair fare. But have you tasted these critic's favorites?

September 4, 2009 at 4:36PM
1919 Root Beer
1919 Root Beer (Star Tribune file/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

1 "My worst day at the fair is Day 13, when I wake up and realize that I can't have my root beer for breakfast," said stand co-owner Nick Post. It's a sentiment any sane person can totally relate to, because with its dark caramel color, rich vanilla accents and barely sweet bite, very little in the fair's brief 12-day window beats a frosty and frothy pull of 1919 Root Beer. This summer marks the 21st year that the Post family -- Nick's father, Bill, and sister Gaby are its other principal players -- has been selling this exceptional draft root beer (made at the August Schell Brewing Co. in New Ulm, Minn.) on the fairgrounds. "And we're still considered 'newcomers' by the old-timers," said Nick with a laugh. Another reason to love: A 10-oz. glass is just a buck, and floats start at $4.

1919 Root Beer, outside the Garden, Dan Patch Avenue and Underwood Street.

2 Here's what Ed Rabideaux hears all day, every day, during the fair: "Oh, good, something besides fried food." The Minneapolis greengrocer -- he's the owner of the Produce Exchange at the Midtown Global Market -- sells the ripest, juiciest fruits for his State Fair clientele. This year, among the picture-perfect nectarines, Clementines, Minnesota-raised Zestar apples, plums and pluots, one particular gift from Mother Nature really stands out: Sweet Dreams peaches ($3). Rabideaux imports them specifically for the fair from a Washington State orchard and, for any peach-crazed fairgoer, they're the equivalent of a music fan's REO Speedwagon/STYX Grandstand double-header. "They're so crazy good, it's unbelievable," Rabideaux said, and, for once, it's a fairgrounds sales job that's no carny put-on.

Produce Exchange, outside the Agriculture/Horticulture building, Judson Avenue between Underwood and Cooper Streets.

3 Why settle for a single taste of Summit beer when you can have three? Adhering to fair tradition, the St. Paul craft brewery is cleverly offering Summit on a Stick ($7.50), a trio of 7-ounce pours of its robust Extra Pale Ale, Oktoberfest and Horizon Red Ale brands, served in a handy wooden carrying tray. Cheapskate's tip: Order it as a flight (same beers, same size, no souvenir carrying tray) and save a dollar.

Summit Beer, International Bazaar

4 Frozen bliss. The fair's most refreshing palate cleanser/portable air conditioner is simplicity itself, just intensely flavorful apple cider (pressed at the swell Pine Tree Orchard in White Bear Lake), frozen in a plastic push-up sleeve, an icy taste of Minnesota that goes for just $1.

Minnesota Grown Apples, Agriculture/Horticulture building

5 Blend the cranberry's far-northern cousin into Minnesota-made small-batch ice cream, scoop it into a tall cup, add a purple squirt of lingonberry juice and a spritz of soda water and what do you have? A lingonberry soda ($5.50) that looks so good (and tastes even better) that fellow fairgoers will stop and ask, "What is that?" which is invariably followed by, "Where do I buy one?"

Lingonberry Ice Cream, outside the Agriculture/Horticulture building, Underwood Street and Carnes Avenue.

6 Scratch a fairgoer, find a deep-fried delicacy they cannot live without. For me, it's the crumb-coated deep-fried dill pickles ($5), which manage to embody several of the fair's major food groups -- grease and salt, for starters -- but then cuts through the health hazards with an unexpectedly crunchy, vinegary finish. The cream cheese versions are even better.

The Preferred Pickle, Food Building

7 Speaking of deep-fried favorites, my guess is that Food Building denizens come to the popular Walleye on a Stick stand for the title treat. But insiders know to order the deep-fried smelt ($5). A dozen or so of the finger-like fish are gently battered and fried, with a crispy outside that contrasts nicely with the tender and slightly fishy -- in a good way -- interior.

Walleye on a Stick, Food Building

8 Just watching Sarah and Michael Wentzien's crew put together their elaborate fish tacos ($8) makes my stomach rumble with hunger. Here's the drill: A soft spinach tortilla is piled high with generous portions of hot-from-the-fryer tilapia, crisp cabbage, sharp red onion, a cool mango-pineapple salsa and a creamy, slow-burn chipotle sauce. It's a portable burrito-style meal of enticingly contrasting textures and flavors, and big enough to easily please two.

San Felipe Tacos, Food Building

9 In a word: Wow. "Why is this so dang good?" I asked Custard's Last Stand owner Dan Pederson, as I rudely continued to inhale his swoon-worthy coffee frozen custard ($3 to $5). "Because fat is where it's at," he said with a laugh. No kidding. Pederson blends a fine-grind espresso blend of Minneapolis-roasted Peace Coffee into his decadent frozen custard, and the combination -- with the gritty bits of high-octane coffee crunching against the supple smoothness of the custard -- makes even the most decadent coffee ice cream taste like Dairy Queen soft serve.

Custard's Last Stand, outside the Grandstand in Carousel Park

10 Anyone with a drop of Scandinavian blood in them can recall -- hopefully with fondness -- the lefse that a thoughtful relative would shower on family functions. With family names like Nelson, Olsen, Jackson and Moe in my background, reliving happy food memories is exactly why I always visit this popular outpost. Produced by Marshall and Amy Olson's Countryside Lefse in Blair, Wis., this lefse tastes exactly the way it should (for the uninitiated, imagine a potato-based tortilla), spread with butter and sprinkled with sugar ($2.50). Each delicious bite magically transports me out of the Food Building's hubbub and back to the Christmas Eve celebrations of my childhood, and that's a ride that can't be bested by any of the scream machines on the Mighty Midway.

Lynn's Potato Lefse, Food Building

Rick Nelson • 612-673-4757

about the writer

about the writer

Rick Nelson

Reporter

Rick Nelson joined the staff of the Star Tribune in 1998. He is a Twin Cities native, a University of Minnesota graduate and a James Beard Award winner. 

See More