For Easter and local brunch, this is like Texas, done big or go home and and make it yourself, although you can glean ideas from this report. Like in Texas toast, and you won’t find that in the region we call Minnesconsin, actually, but there is plenty of French toast to be had.
Start with this, in downtown New Richmond and with other such named places still spreading throughout the Twin Cities metro, as built into the Mallard’s cost structure is a bottomless mimosa. This harkens back to the days in River Falls when a venue or two would on New Year’s Eve offer all you could drink for $25 (before any and many inflation concerns). Its just that what you get at Mallard’s has a more upscale clientele, and it remains family oriented, and the whole affair is just classier in general.
And the brunch itself sits at 15 menu items, with those that are plural offerings counted as two, and when you take into account “and much more” it becomes even more bountiful. Nearing two dozen dishes?
Then there is the downtown in Hudson. Dick’s does what Dick’s does, and Ziggy’s too. Agave (Mexican) Kitchen has begged off of a special Easter menu, and that means the same is likely true of Little Italy in the same block, as has the Smilin’ Moose, via a bartender who handed off the very question to a server, one who knows. But she said go west young man, to the Postmark (American) Grille, the Poster Child for Easter brunches. We are talking these special things, among with the usual (and salmon is a staple and I had planned to make mine myself long before doing this very unscientific investigation) and not necessarily in order: Rosemary French Toast, Wired Robin granola, Red Robin eggs (just kidding), assorted flatbread and parfait bar. And to take a turn on Mallard’s that is even duckier, $15 bottomless mimosa AND bloody Mary’s (no word on NA or All-A).
Benedict’s (American and more) Rail and Chop House has entered the fray, and at $28.95 for adults and even less for children it is affordable for This Day, with among other things: Eggs Lorraine, pecan and more salad (with strawberry, no actually raspberry), mixed breakfast sausage, and yes, French toast (with apricots and walnuts, no actually apples and yes pecans).
As always, reservations are (strongly depending on the venue and its version of wording) recommended.
But lastly back up north, in New Richmond, the take-home catering option of Dick’s Market ends with dessert that’s a bit different, both chocolate and lemon cream- and cheesecake-based bonanza. Like anyone would call chocolate novel on This Day.

As in music, the comings and going of the nightlife patron traffic can flip, as to when places are super busy or there are at least a few spaces unoccupied at the bar.
This was the case last Friday night in downtown Hudson, when the weather finally warmed to a point where it was statistically significantly above freezing. Most everywhere was hopping and full, even venues that often are not, or have fallen from grace as far as the fullness of their space.
But then that downside. The Smilin’ Moose was as empty as I have seen it, but there was likely a reason. As the Nine O’Clock Hour approached, the temps again started descending fast. About the time the Moose really sees their increase in traffic — as the food service draws many people too, but its the DJ service that really packs ’em in — the degrees started decreasing, and it showed in the number of people there and throughout most of the downtown. There were some who stayed on, but they had been around the scene since the happy hour and before.
A couple from Woodbury, Minn., could be seen as an example of the travels some were doing, at least early on that night. They started over to the north at T-Buckets near Somerset, where we accidentally met up, then it was down to Hudson to Dick’s, which had the most people I had seen there this year, than to Agave up the street, and then to Ziggy’s — where I ran into them again. (And yes, dear lady we all know, as I am listening to Stairway To Heaven as I’m typing to this, to be sung at karoake later, I will promise to tip better than what you had seen). All this was well before the Tim Sigler Band came on upstairs. Despite all this, the next guy that happened by thought there have been a few more people around. He did want to find a place to sit at the bar, and he had to wait a bit, but one eventually availed itself next to me — one of the few.
A commonality: Despite the early-on balminess, women wearing boots was still a staple. It had only been a couple of weeks earlier that I had seen the first muck-lucks.
(For a trivia question on fashion — broadly — as seasons continue to unfold and St. Patrick’s Day runs its course, see the Where Did You See It department).

Tis still spring now, and the green will soon be from flower stems and leaves, not just the recently passed Irish holiday. But when our snow dictated, and doggies were being walked more, their paw prints could be seen looking much like clover in their leaves patterns. In stretches of mud also, along the sidewalks.

But now I take you back to another summer time when there were more then hundreds clamoring around — on a Thursday! It was one of the first times that Hudson’s bar scene reopened from the pandemic while Minnesota stayed closed, so guess what happened? The border was overwhelmed with soon-to-be-partiers going eastward.
I that night, for one of the first times, became Hudson’s unofficial nightlife ambassador.
A beyond tipsy guy came over to me at Hudson Tap and tapped my brain. At length. Making not too much sense. One of his friends, a lovely and composed woman, came over a saved me and asked me to join her and her more sober friends a couple of tables away. But there was a main man who engaged me in captivating conversation. He wanted to know all there was to know about the local nightspots.
He wanted to talk almost exclusively about what were their next places they should hit in Hudson. So my website came up and he was entruiged and asked even more questions. It seemed I was doing all the talking, so I tried to draw him into the conversation.
And then the guy dropped a bomb, after I queried, two times. What does he do for a living? He works for the U of M? And what does he do there?
You can’t make this up.
He is a brain surgeon!
As I walked up the way, I encountered a foursome of partiers and they were … black! Interracially, sort of, the most talkative woman who singled me out said it was her birthday and they’d never been to Hudson before, but here we go, they came here, on this of all nights. So I told her, as well, where to go in this place. Quite at length. Suddenly she cut it off and said they’d be on their way, to explore on their own.
Interestingly, this interchange came on the east side of the interchange that is the main drag. It shows if you know the lay of the bar land, you know that the happening side of the street is the other.
On that side, there was one man, no two, with slung guitar cases on their back going I know not where to find a gig. More recently, as warmth again came to the city, their was a punker chic who also had that instrument across her shoulders. Like Tommy Tutone of “Jenny” fame, here in days of yore when he’d come into clubs and take over the stages. But that is another story.

In this year’s shortest month, several shovels cut a slit sideways, on a diagonal through certain yards, to create another point of entry to the houses when the residents were super cold. They were still, for long, in OK shape, just with maybe a bit of ice. But now they have been replaced with the cracks running at diagonal angles through the ice, grooves that were cut by runoff from the now melted snow.
And with this season comes spring cleaning. On the warm weekend there were people throwing boatloads, almost literally, into bigger than waste disposal containers, of their old plywood and two-by-four and paneling and such. One of those houses with diagonals through snow now had a bright lime green dumpster and truck with big enclosed trailer in about the same area. A man was counting what looked to by a whole bunch of coins, or maybe on second look it was not a counting, but collecting, of silverware. So I joked to his smiling wife, “must be a mega-garage-sale. Or you’re moving out.”
Across the way, that one big Christmas ball had earlier fallen off the tree, but did not break, into the at that time softer snow …
Many T-shirts were still being worn, through the winter, and also shorts as part of a small package of clothing, and even a bit of belly showing, even on the coldest of days. Of course all this now has really picked up pace and become practically the norm. As it warmed, there were a few outdoor-style house parties, or just people enjoying the new warm with a cold one on their front porch, and some of them had the tiki lights back up and glowing through the now later nightfall.
By the recently past snow-buried hydrant and other such things, like a cable box that was dismantled with the box laying sideways and wiring running amok, there only a week or two earlier had been no walkable cutaway at all from the curb due to heavy snows. As time went on, the sidewalk clearance became slower and more iffy, and where there was that for-sale vacant lot of the Flaming Moe’s joke, at the expense of those local Realtors and I hope they have a sense of humor, from an earlier post, shoveling stalled even more right toward the end. Would those going by the name of Boe have followed suit?
As this extra snow, of course, put a lot of pressure on local homeowners and Realtors alike to keep the sidewalks clear. If I were a councilman, I’d suggest a new rule that after a seasonal snow total exceeded a certain number of inches, city crews would step in and pick up the slack. Of course that would mean more hires and/or overtime, and the taxpayers would end up footing the bill, so I think the extra pushing of snow would bring pushback from those with no sidewalks in front of their houses.

And lastly, the second and final chapter of Ye Ol’ Ice Boulder, the big knee-high-and-sometimes-more lump that is/was at the end of the entryway to my street and now thank goodness is just rather wet cement. (Scroll down to see a previous post).
It has drawn various comments, based on my quasi-complaints, from cabbies, drivers and friends who have picked me up. Take an ice pick to the steel, and for a day or two its just a Puddle of Mudd, then back to ice. Tough if you go for a smoke and want to roam? Near the end, there was an angle cutting sideways, across most of the ice. So you Twist and Shout, really going at it, but then hey its gone. Throughout my tales of the weather, I saw the boulder build up then back off.
I need to carry it forward, as when I’d stride over the mound, it took a few feet into the street to stop my momentum, then retrace my steps. Gimme Three Steps?
I must refer to that lady and gent seen at a Hudson corner, as he helped she over it. So beware of those white painted stripes at intersections, as they can be slick as ice. To do a Dio take, even though you know those stripes are clean, some light can never be seen (of course even moreso at night watch your step.)

To close out the month, (save for the 31st), The GasLite in Ellsworth has a rarity these days, back-to-back bands, the locally based country tunes of Blue Moon Drive, (which you never know just might drive you through the rural tale of Under A Neon Moon), on the 24th, and not just the usual fare, as in a true and varied variety and more (though still classics) band, The Usual Suspects, on the 25th. And they seem to stand out, or so the locals and not-far-away-sorta-as-in-Twin-Cities-locals seem to think, from the other bands by that name that broaden out to the UK, and not The Beatles although you could make a comparison, and also could include The Unusual Suspects. Both times, Friday and Saturday, are 8 p.m. starts. So 28 hours between the start of one and the finish of the other.
And as far as that first band, there is a title synergy with Under A Silver Moon, but that is a much different genre that has not shown to be as (broadly) popular as the local group, but that is another story.
Also with wordplay, you can check out the band Heart Breaker, reminescent of the classic Led Zeppelin song, at the Willow River Saloon in Burkhardt on Saturday night, (starting just a bit later then the music in Ellsworth), and the space in their name is provided via their official, methinks, marquee announcement. Does that have anything to do with, or linked to, an ad I saw that was for a “manufacteres coupon.” Spelling choice intentional? Get it?

Chaotic entry …
As so often, it was a different crowd at Dick’s Bar in Hudson, like the St. Paulites not at the Xcel Energy Center at that very moment, huge green top hat sitting next to her, and for her part the headgear was much the same with a lot of cleavage around green cloth in their clothes everywhere. Strutting down the sidewalk that ran aside were two suits and ties, all appearing totally of course in the color of lime. And not that on the rim of your whiskey or other drink of Irish ilk.
So top coat? Top hat? Wear it? Wallet’s fat?
Bartender Bailey, again a great name on St. Patrick’s Day, went on Amazon and was left with only ordering this T-shirt for her and her shopmates: OK it was a great shirt, in truth: “Irish (symbol) I were dead.” (She also rocked her multi-green-faceted, Emerald Isle-style, top with hat to bottom, wardrobe enhancements, and was in her social element). The main counter area sported a several-foot-long string of shamrocks.
The Moose man of the day said essentially this on his shirt, but not himself personally, just an observation: Sloshed on this day? How much makes you so?

— More various holiday themed, including this just past one if you read down far enough, postcards from the edge (of a ride!) See Picks Of The Week. —

At his Moose bar was a woman wearing a shirt that was creative as far as the theme of various shades of green. So fresh squeezed? It could have been an ad for sweet relish. Green chilis and bell peppers. Are we sure this is not Cinco de Mayo. Hot dog! (Sorry. That silly joke didn’t cut the mustard).
A few chairs away and around the bend of the bar-rail, there was the ultimate Irish redhead, although long straight not curly locks.
Mountain of a man and he’s Scottish too, not just Irish, outside my driver pulls up. Like so many, this guy I know is from both sides of the isle. Maybe Brit also.
There was not too much busyness up and down the cold main street, at least fairly early, but many said that would change when it got close to midnight, and St. Patrick’s Day, actually, had past. Hudson Tap was very packed, even more than earlier as one of the few, well prior to 12 O’Clock. Unusual, as people on this holiday don’t usually wait until late to get going.
When going up and away back to the Great Northeast, Burkhardt was very busy as typical, but Boardman was quite boring. (Unlike around 5 p.m.) New Richmond’s main streets were as mixed a bag as the often quaint Irish of old and new.
Little Italy bartender Shauna had very red hair, but said although she’s a wee bit Irish, but mostly German, and a smidge of other things. Her last name evoked also invoked thoughts of Irish and it was very obscure, but that also delved into the Duetsch. Her family has discussed where their current goings-on have come from. For my part, she indeed looked very much like my cousin, Emerald Isle through and through, named Eithne.
Slide into another Saturday, another T-shirt, another $3.75. Sitting next to me making love to her tonic and gin — or maybe Guinness or Finnegan’s — was someone best described as an updated bit of Irish, with a bit of post-punk style. Her look thus, was very dark green. Could this be Flogging Molly or Dropkick Murphys, or their copiers.
In the grocery aisle, come Sunday, was another only slightly-as-dark green, true Irish with long red hair that that was waved around when hitting her chest.
On sale? Three or four pints for $11.99, oh that’s ice cream not any of those Irish drinking faves.

It’s true that you can meet someone (a redhead?) in the grocery checkout line, needing help with her corned beef and cabbage and all those plausibly Pat’s if not sacred fixin’s, if they are bagged big enough to serve a big Irish Catholic family on St. Patrick’s Day. Or an elf, see three sentences down, half the height of that saint, just prior to his holiday. (He was actually Scottish to start off, so give him an extra few inches). A lass across the aisle from me was told by an employee that she had a couple of pieces of popcorn slung on her back, then plucked them off like pedals of a clover, but for a wee bit of salt. I suggested they were placed there by a mischievous leprechaun or two, one bearing the salted butter, and prompted her to say something about being Irish — could not tell if she was pro or con, or situational after this weekend.

— Did I say weekend? If you survived St. Paddy’s Day (short spelling because I may not be one of those few who did) there is more music tonight, that being Saturday, that being March 18th. To wit, it’s at the Willow River Saloon in Burkhardt, and its Jazmine and the Gents. Basically, a lass and her (for the most-post-Paddy-part) backup band. —

Then as a now very busy area barber, who had his chosen and well proportioned half-green hair, for this date, melded with even more prominent old tattoos — of lovely lasses bearing the now typically out-of-fashion green beer? — with that underlying hue or tint. But not a green nose ring, as that would be icky, even if only one nostral.
In another profession, via a clerk, many rows of whiskey bottles took shape a wee few days ahead on the counter between the two cash registers at Dick’s Liquors. Various flavors, mostly Irish but also Scottish and Kentucky bourbon, and even root beer flavored. For me, as I was the only one in that aisle?? This already in early March.
And there have been a full nine beer specials, of various types, for most of the prior week at Kwik Trip. But to get Guinness you’d need to gain more shopping guile. Or doctor your rewards card like various of us have done with our “I’m 18 now 21” IDs?
So we also have whiskey that’s Northern Kentucky Norse, much less than the land of 3-2 beer, and 12 Apples Irish whiskey, heaven forbid not 13, or this Friday could spell trouble.
Would a Texas WalMart have such a small top-hat, with big decals lower down, as wore the woman at our WM store more than a week beforehand? And having three colors of hair, to boot. But no boots. Green was also the theme of their beef jerky on sale, whether in be the packaging (or what’s organic inside)?
The only On This Day Irish are likely the ones who will grab all the 24 or 30 packs and more just the night before, said a clerk at Bob and Steve’s convenience store, agreeing that as faux Irish they don’t realize it was indeed on hand. The Day until the day prior to The Day. Does the again referenced Guinness come in that big size, and cans not ounces? On this time around for The Day, there is get this, more snow/sleet/cold/rain/wind in the equation. We’ll see about warmth, as on The Isle the seas aid that effort.
And then there’s that guy, wearing the Flogging Molly T-shirt that comes out of the closet (for this day?) Unless you’re traveling far afield via the advertised Megabus Madness. As its more popular, Molly is, every mid-March. But hey, they’re probably OK as a band. But so was Air Supply. But a different style of tune. I think. Some might think the name somewhat offensive; or just too easy and/or cheesy, so can’t ascertain.
So here’s to my main man cabbie and the rule of sevens! That’s as in a.m., when the drinking would start in New Richmond, he said of St. Pat’s … By the time you’d think his business would really be in vogue, not sunsetting, there might only be two or three fares. Same at New Year’s Eve. And they didn’t necessarily all go to St. Paul; just when you get going that early, even here …
Lastly, as they’re both name players in these the days of basketball mid-March Madness; two Greens who go by that surname (40 percent of it) took the court on the same team’s five-man lineup. Not the Fighting Irish.

There’s a range of fantastic west Wisconsin venues ranging north to south to almost the length of Ireland, each offering their own take on St. Patrick’s Day.
Leading off, check out the rainbow of things — not just a wee bit — at UW Wanderoos in Amery that you will not normally find on this green day. Start with a Shamrock Martini, gotta love that drink recipe idea, and even if you are not Irish you are sure to be well served by ordering their Get Lucky burger. And their fish fry all through Lent starts on Wednesdays, then runs through Fridays. A pool tournament — pot of gold at the end of the rainbow? — is offered on March 18 and also on that evening there is the up-to-date country strains of North of 64, hailing from across the way in Osceola. (Check out their travelin’ story online video, as referenced in an earlier post!)
To hit up the Isle, Hey hey, what can I do … I will be true: The following adds up to almost three dozen. Paddy’s Ryan’s offers a selection of more than 35 Irish whiskey AND single malt Scotch, and you can also knock back not only a Shanky’s Whip with its vanilla theme — as proprietor of all things Irish Kirk Mueller calls it — and a whole series of Jameson varieties. But back to Shanky’s. Its official website, no doubt from the Emerald Isle, also describes it as the original black liqueur (their correct spelling used) and Irish whiskey blend with the taste of cream, and caramel, that it offers the world. And that’s not just on St. Patrick’s Day, but everyday they are open in both the town of Hudson and now River Falls, with even greater accessibility. River Falls will also have, again, its potato soup crawl, and you can be sure Paddy Ryan’s will lead the way with that type of fare.

— For the latest in St. Patrick’s Day information, to milk in this state a bad old joke but good one, I go when brave and bold and want news on the cold to MotherInMilwaukee.mom. (Even though she’s a full 99.9 percent German): “It is 42 degrees here, cloudy, damp and gray! We’re to get rain today and rain snow mix tomorrow (the real main day in question, as Milwaukee is Irish too, and their might be wind worthy of one of their yarns at play also)!”
But back to that cabbie and his distain for snow, as he just right stream on his streaming of Tiger state hockey, as in its champs, done all season regionally, but at the end The WIAA held all dibs. On the drive to Madison, as they crept near Portage — where with that name you’d think they’d provide a break from the fluffy white stuff, liquid or less, there was less and less and then no snow. Could see all of the corn stalks virtually down to their roots. Once down there, there was domination, with the goalie giving up only one goal all tourney, while racking up a full ten themselves against archrival Menomonie.
Back In New Richmond, after back at the sports bar, there was a woman with a Prescott sweater, I think it went as I was just a wee bit buzzed, who also was relishing the hockey greatness, just far afield. —

Being that St. Patrick’s Day is a Friday … The Smilin’ Moose is much lower in price than many with its Friday Lenten fish fry, at $13.99 and only $3.99 for two more pieces. And always with seafood chowder. And served until 10 p.m., before the young guns and their music take over. But wait, it is being outdone by The Hudson Tap, two blocks down, at $12.99, and the same value for those couple of added fillet pieces. And their chowder is clam.
And also at The Tap, on St. Paddy’s the Irish drinks offered include Smithwick’s ale and like Paddy Ryan’s, Shanky’s whiskey, not to mention the added in Harp lager.
To the south at the Sub House is a sandwich take on the Rueben that has warm roast beef and onion, too.
More northernly, in New Richmond, besides the big late afternoon parade, Nootz & Oz will show-off and showcase their newly installed end-to-end granite bar-rail and also serve you a Guinness on it for only $4. For more details on the parade, check out McCabe’s Shamrock Club, (which before March even arrived had shorn up all its marketing funds for that longtime event, which basically sells itself anyway).
For those counting, if you want to get in your full dozen hours of partying at the Wild Badger/Mallards, you can get it going at 11 a.m. at the former, but then at the latter things wrap up way before Irish time but it will still be just ducky to conclude at 11 p.m. And though gold not green (there’s room for both), you can get Fireball shots at the Wild Badger for a wee $3, since its a Friday special.

Very unfortunately, and not forgotten, it’s not so cozy anymore, for yes its hallowed hearth and halls being fried top to bottom by a recent fire. Can no longer bring the heat on those killer pizzas, in what had been cherished as Kozy Korner, existing for over a decade in the heart of the only business district in North Hudson.
That’s because of that overnight blaze, occurring just hours before they would have again gotten busy with making those near-locally-legendary breakfast pizzas, that killed the kitchen and any kiln, and virtually gutted the place.
Video footage, as coverage even reached the Twin Cities news outlets, showed what took place not long after bar time, smoke billowing westward from that center of the building and charring the steak in the now unchilled fridge and freezer, but the seating area on the south side also was toast — sorry for that — and the laundromat on the north end also was washed away.
But for me personally, I had been waiting for the unveiling of some of that steak, as part of a killer new menu that had been promised for more than a year, when the concept was first introduced by the new owners, and since then has been just tweaked — baby steps away from the past, and big shoes and stomachs to fill, so get it right.

— So if you still crave pizza, your next available option in North Hudson might be another K, as in Kwik Trip, where they sport the timely pitch that beware of what’s in the road ahead, they have their pothole brand pizza. Spring friendly. —

Of course, there are perhaps dozens of formerly Kozy employees who have lost employment due to the fire, and the fundraisers for them have followed, and will follow. One of them, a Belle of a woman named Bel, who I caught up with at Dick’s Bar, and Grill of course, in downtown Hudson, not North Hudson, took it in stride, but with a slight pang in her voice. This was a thing passing in life, which will go on.
The fundraiser of which I am aware was at The Willow River Saloon in Burkhardt, and was a spaghetti dinner, forego the pizza, although they have that too via a big Carbone’s attached to the north end.
One of the three people listed for raffle donations is a principle at Broz down in River Falls. So I stopped in, and talked to the bartender, who knew of the tragedy but not the sources for fundraisers.
This has not been the only prominent restaurant fire in this relatively small village. Decades ago, in the heart of the village as a whole, a venue that topped all others in North Hudson, was as Italian as it gets. And that may be important. For its long been rumored both here and farther away that the mob was behind the blaze. And you know, like Dio who is also Italian prominently sung, The Mob Rules. Other restaurant versions rose from the ashes.
But would it be so for this New Richmond property? A house that also burned to the ground, many months ago. In a lot two doors down, is another property that like this one is up for sale, offered by the Realtor family that goes by The Moes. In an ode to the Simpsons, so in this case I must be glib, they could also market the other lot, and be known as The Flamin’ Moes, after Homer’s favorite barkeep. Did he too work at Kozy Korner? They had a bar too.