Pepperoni pie from Brick Oven Bus
For a while, I'd been following on social media these adorable retrofitted school buses with chimneys built right into them, but had never spotted one in the wild. So when I saw a yellow pizza-making bus at an event, it wasn't only my preschoolers who were giddy to step on board.
That's the fun part: You climb inside to place your order. Then, a rapid blitz in the brick oven at the back of the bus turns out a pizza to order in three minutes. When they call your name, you pick up your pie through a side window.
A concise menu relies on top ingredients, including naturally leavened dough (made with yeast cultured from Minnesota grapes), imported San Marzano tomatoes, and toppings ranging from artichoke hearts and basil to pineapple and cupped pepperoni. Specialty combinations are $16.
The business started five years ago, all thanks to a little girl with a fascination for school buses. Her dad bought an old one and had it in his driveway (that's dad of the year-level stuff right there) when he got the idea to make pizzas out of it. Now, the company has a small fleet of them, which they park at events and breweries all over the metro, from Elk River to Lakeville and beyond. (Sharyn Jackson)
Check the upcoming schedule at brickovenbus.com
Bacon cheeseburger at Bull's Horn
Every other summer weekend of my youth was spent at Grandma Gidgee's golf course-adjacent cabin on the Iron Range. For those who love the quiet, slow-paced sport, that probably sounds like heaven. To the average kid during the era of three channels (and only two came in), it was torture. Worse, when we weren't on the screened-in porch watching men in bad pants hit a white ball, we were watching people whisper about it on the one TV. Just as the boredom was about to make me burst into an epic fit, my dad would shoot me a sly look and say, "Wanna go for a drive?"
We'd hit the back country roads in search of a local tavern with frosty beverages and a great burger and fries. It's where I found my love for local taverns, and it's everything I think about when I cross the threshold into Doug Flicker and Amy Greeley's bar and restaurant.
It doesn't need to be a long and winding drive to Bull's Horn, but I'll still cruise along the Mississippi River and Minnehaha Creek to get there. I make my kids, who will never know the torturous existence of not having anything to watch, put down the devices and watch the greenery pass by before we arrive and grab a seat out on the back patio. We order a round of burgers: thin, but not smashed, topped in oozy orange cheese and a couple of slices of meaty bacon ($13.95) for mom and dad. The fries are skinny, bedazzled with salt crystals and a nice side accompaniment to the reservoir of ketchup my daughter insists accompany every meal. Just like my dad and I used to do, we don't talk much during our meal, but instead listen to an insistent cardinal broadcast an urgent message from a treetop. It's a moment to savor while I ponder how grateful I am that this is the only birdie anyone here will mention. (Joy Summers)
