Novak is 26. He got into the restaurant business in Warren, Minn., six years ago because, as he says, “I had a dream.” He was working for Marvin Windows, and he has only a high school education. Still, he wanted a business of his own. So, he plunged in and opened a restaurant in Warren. Things went so well that his father, Leonard Novak, is now working for him, running the restaurant with its combined video shop in Warren. That leaves the younger Novak free to concentrate on the East Grand Forks operation.
Beaver has plans for himself as well as his business. He is getting married in September to Melody Olson, who has worked as a waitress for him for five years. He also is planning to revive his Beaver act. In Warren, he dressed up like a beaver for birthday parties in the restaurant. It went over so well in Warren that he is hoping it will also be popular in East Grand Forks.
Beaver’s Family Restaurant no longer operates in East Grand Forks.
Tortellini Is Soft, Warm and Like Soul Food at Big Al’s
* * *
SEPTEMBER 25, 1991
* * *
It was darkish inside Big Al’s Pasta Parlor, at the Westward Ho Motel. One young man was eating peanuts at a table along the side of the room. The waiter brought us a large laminated menu printed in red and green. In the dimness of the room, we could pick up the green print OK, but the red print was hard to read. The waiter, wearing a sweatshirt with a caricature of Big Al on it, came back to the table and asked, “You guys ready to order?”
“We can’t see the menu very well,” Constant Companion said.
“OK. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” the waiter said.
At length, I decided to order tortellini, described as “a blend of beef and Romano cheese, tortellini with butter, spices and heavy cream.” CC asked for lasagne, “layered with fresh ricotta, mozzarella and parmesan cheese, seasoned ground beef and red sauce.” Both were $6.95, and came with a choice of minestrone soup or salad, and a small loaf of warm bread, served on a board with a knife stuck in it.
The fellow at the other table left. The waiter threw the peanut shells on the floor. Another couple came in and sat down. The piped-in music was metallic, and it kept coming. It had a nice beat. Not too loud.
The bread tasted good. CC said the soup was good, but only lukewarm. My salad was so-so, but nicely seasoned with a fair sprinkling of olive slices and an abundance of croutons. The tortellini was soft and warm and sort of like soul food. The serving was so ample that I could get only halfway through it. CC said the lasagne had a nice, sharp flavor.
We agreed that the quality of Italian food is consistently good at Big Al’s, which was the first Italian restaurant in Grand Forks, and continues its exclusively Italian menu after five years. It’s fun to eat in the Pasta Parlor, which is also the Peanut Bar, where you can get a beer or a glass of wine with the meal. The same food is available to families who eat in the Chuckhouse Restaurant or patrons of the Casino Sports Bar, also at the Westward Ho Motel.
I liked the shakers of parmesan and hot red pepper on each table. The early evening ambience is right for a quiet, Italian meal. A collection of old chairs and a variety of square, round and oblong tables makes for a casual atmosphere. So does the wooden floor liberally sprinkled with peanut shells. One lethargic fly was driving us crazy. This could happen anywhere at this time of year.
Our service was good. Our waiter delivered us from having to reply 99 times to the question, “How is everything?” He asked only once or twice, and I am convinced that at most restaurants it doesn’t really matter anyway.
Our waiter deserves a gold star for telling us, when he delivered the bill, that we should pay it at the bar. He didn’t make us play guessing games. He was fairly attentive, but ready to remove the dishes before I was ready to relinquish them. He probably isn’t used to people who like to dawdle. When I eat out, I like to take my time.
At 6:20 P.M., a man in a dark jacket came in and was turning the lights up and down. He was puffing on a cigarette.
“Is that Big Al?” I asked the cashier as we were leaving.
“No,” he said. “That’s Jack Carr. He comes in every night about this time to play the honky-tonk piano for the Peanut Bar.”
Big Al’s and the other restaurants at the Westward Ho succumbed to the Red River flood of 1997.
Bit of Norway in City Center Mall Builds a Following
* * *
FEBRUARY 5, 1992
* * *
The homemade tomato soup was like mothers used to make, when mothers stayed home and made soup for lunch. The potato dumplings were dense and hearty and flavored with bits of ham.
The bread pudding was like something out of the past. It is soul food for children of the Depression.
In the interest of research, we each bought two or three different items when I had lunch Friday with Marijo Shide (MS) and Barbara Lander (BL) at Bit of Norway. Then, one by one, we sampled the food. Before we had time to set our trays aside, we were nodding our approval.
“This is not the kind of food you make by mixing water and stirring,” MS said. We laughed because we know that Elizabeth Anderson, who runs the little shop in City Center Mall, is not the quick-mix, fast-food type of person.
Of all the items we sampled, riskrem was probably the standout. It’s a light, fluffy rice pudding with raspberry sauce on top. BL was impressed with the quality of the tomato soup. Coffee, which is good, is 35 cents a cup here.
You place your order at a window when you go to Bit of Norway. Inside, you can see the lineup:
Riskrem, 50 cents. Rommegrot, 50 cents. Bread pudding, 75 cents. Muffin, 30 cents. Caramel roll, 60 cents. Apple pie, $1.50. Soup, $1.25. Lefse, $1 a sheet. Potato dumplings, $1.25.
There are touches that make this food outlet in a mall rather unique. In the first place, it is strictly Norwegian fare. No hamburgers or pizza. In the second place, it has flowers painted on the napkin holders and flowers painted on the listing of items on the wall. And it is clean. Spanking clean.
It’s obvious that Bit of Norway has a following already. People seem excited to have a place where they can buy Norwegian food. The Rev. Tim Johnson of United Lutheran Church was there, finishing off a lunch of tomato soup and caramel roll. As he was getting ready to leave, he said, “I will eat caramel rolls wherever and whenever they are served.”
Alice Boen was having an afternoon snack and said she stops by often. “I like the vegetable soup when she has it. Her German chocolate cake is out of this world.” Another customer, Glenn Rudrud, said he likes the dumplings.
Bit of Norway opened Jan. 8, and so far, so good, Anderson says. For her, it’s a new experience to run a food business. She is trying to get better organized. But, she says, “We are busier every day, and that’s good.”
For Anderson, Bit of Norway is a longtime dream—or at least the beginning of a dream. She would like to have a separate shop, where she could have music from Norway and books about Norway. A native of Beltrami, Minn., she is of mostly Norwegian background. She is active in the Sons of Norway. She feels strongly about preserving Norwegian culture and cuisine in this area where so many Scandinavians settled.
Gramma Butterwicks Serves Good Food, Nothing Fancy
* * *
FEBRUARY 19, 1992
* * *
Big chunks of carrot, wide slices of celery and lean, tender meat make up the vegetable beef soup at Gramma Butterwicks Family Restaurant on South Washington Street.
On a scale with 10 at the top, I would say the cup of soup at Butterwicks last Wednesday could rate at least an eight. It was a tad salty, but not nearly as salty as some restaurant soups. The soup came with the club sandwich I ordered, for a total of $4.15. And the triple decker with bacon, lettuce and tomato and my choice of ham or turkey—ham, please—was the best sandwich I have eaten for a while.
But then, I expected it to be as good as the club sandwiches served at the Dacotah Restaurant downtown. After all, Terry and Ruth Jensen operate both places. They also have Gor
dy’s Diner on Gateway Drive.
Constant Companion met me at Butterwicks for lunch and ordered his favorite sandwich—the Philly Steak, for $3.40. This is sliced roast beef on a hoagie bun with mushrooms, onions, Swiss and cream cheese. CC took a couple of bites of his Philly and nodded his approval. “Good,” he said.
The nice thing about the menu at Butterwicks is that you can get the sandwich alone at one price.
Or you can make your choice of soup, salad or fries for 85 cents more. Too many restaurants make you buy something with your sandwich whether you want it or not.
With our sandwiches, we drank coffee. It’s 65 cents a cup. It’s strong. You don’t have to worry about it keeping you awake.
Lunching at Gramma Butterwicks is an entirely satisfactory experience. The service is good. The food is basic and wholesome. The management makes no pretext of being fancy. They serve the kind of food that brings you back. Breakfast is served beginning at 5:30 A.M. and you can have breakfast items all day. There are daily luncheon specials, including casseroles. And there are supper specials.
The restaurant has been through a series of managements since it opened here originally as Sambo’s in the 1970s. Terry and Ruth Jensen bought Gramma Butterwicks four months ago, and have been putting a lot of energy into running it. All they need, he says, is more hours in a day. “We’re happy with the business. It’s more than we expected, but we would hope for more.”
Terry Jenson started out in the food business at the old Ritz Cafe on Main Street in Fargo. He was chef at the F-M in Moorhead, when it first opened. Then he came to Grand Forks to work for the Westward Ho Motel. Here, he met his wife when she was working at the former A&W Drive In. She has worked as his partner in operating their three restaurants in Grand Forks.
Ruth and Terry Jensen continue to operate Gramma Butterwicks.
Whitey’s of East Grand Forks Thrives on Keeping Status Quo
* * *
AUGUST 26, 1992
* * *
Franchise restaurants may come and go, but Whitey’s of East Grand Forks goes on forever. It’s a place where people go when they come back to visit this community.
“I think they would be disappointed if we changed too much,” says Dave Homstad, an assistant manager. “People seem to like Whitey’s the way it is, and I guess we operate on the theory that if it isn’t broke, we won’t fix it.”
This is a great time of year for Whitey’s, with the students coming back, the farmers finishing up their work and the people back from the lakes. Whitey’s will be swinging into its fall and winter routine, Homstad says. But for a few more weeks, the restaurant will be offering skewer lunches—an assortment of fresh fruit arranged on skewers and served with dip, cheese wedge, smoked sausage slice and a hard roll.
Constant Companion and I have been going there almost every Friday for a single skewer and a cup of wild rice soup for $3.25. That’s quite a deal. And it reminds me so much of the pub lunches we enjoyed when we visited London.
We also go regularly to Whitey’s when one of our three musketeers comes back for a visit. Usually, they want to see if the steaks are as good as the ones they remember. We went there Friday night with our Bismarck daughter, Gail, and we were not disappointed. She had a 4-ounce beef tenderloin steak ($8.50). Constant Companion tried a half rack of ribs ($8.95), and I settled for a Riverboat sandwich ($4.75). This, to my way of thinking, is a great thing to eat when you don’t want to go all out. And it’s a great food buy, because it comes in a sourdough bun with a choice of french fries, tossed salad or potato salad.
The dinner items are served with a relish tray, which has become a fairly rare item in restaurants today, and the usual tossed salad, roll and choice of potatoes.
There are pluses and minuses at Whitey’s. You get a big, white cloth napkin whether you sit in the dining room or at one of the booths in the lounge. Soups are super. The wild rice on Fridays is a big draw. It’s thick, with pieces of carrot and slivers of almond. Chicken and dumplings served on Fridays ($4.25) for lunch are better than your mom used to make, according to Don Anderson, who stopped by our table recently. Jinny Anderson said it’s the walleye that brings her back for more.
On the other hand, some people do not like the laid-back atmosphere in the lounge at Whitey’s. They are happier eating at tables in the dining room at the rear.
For the most part, Whitey’s staff is experienced and professional, but there are times when you wish some of the waitstaff would spruce up a little and be more concerned about restraining long hair.
Whitey’s was established by the late Edwin “Whitey” Larson in 1925 and moved to its present location in 1930. The stainless steel horseshoe bar was the first one built in the United States, and is still referred to as “Whitey’s Wonderbar.” When a fire damaged the building in 1942, a new front facade was added.
Because it put the emphasis on food, Whitey’s is the lone survivor from the days when gambling was rampant in East Grand Forks. In recent years, Whitey’s has expanded to include a side bar with pool tables and dart games and a separate back entrance. Thus, the restaurant promotes an atmosphere for everyone.
With its art deco design and American and Canadian flags, Whitey’s doesn’t change very much. It’s a tradition in this community, and thrives on its comfortable mix of clientele and a menu strong on meat and potatoes. But, they have made some concessions to changing tastes, such as adding a taco salad and submarine sandwiches. And, where imported beers used to be displayed, there are now regional beers of America.
County Coffee Court to Feature Soup du Jury, Statute Stew
* * *
SEPTEMBER 23, 1992
* * *
Where but in Grand Forks could you have a lunch of Norwegian lefse and Chinese chow mein?
I ordered this combination—quite delightful—Thursday at the Courthouse Coffee Shop, which is soon to be known as County Coffee Court. The name change is on a new menu being prepared by Elizabeth Anderson. She took over the coffee shop in September and will run it in conjunction with her Bit of Norway food shop in City Center Mall.
Anderson was in the kitchen, and Bea Jacobson, whom she calls her star waitress, was presiding at the counter of the small lunch room when I stopped in. It’s downstairs in the Grand Forks County Courthouse.
Other customers included a county commissioner, an assortment of lawyers and a couple of people in the courthouse on business. And I had noticed the sign pointing down to the coffee shop says, “Public invited.”
The menu is short and sweet. In fact, until the new one comes out, it is nonexistent. The new menu says County Coffee Court at the top. It’s designed to look like a page from a legal notebook. On the second line, it says: Honorable U.B. the Judge, Presiding.
The menu will feature breakfast items and lunch including, “civil soups” with “writ crackers.”
There will be “soup du jury, pea bargain, vegetable brief and statute stew.” Pork and beans will be called “habeas porkus leguminus.” The “Chief Justice burger” will be “fried speedily and publicly.” Prices on the new menu are listed in a column called “out of pocket damages.”
The menu closes with the principle that all persons present shall receive their just desserts. These include “unimpeachable pie, oathmeal cookies and tort tarts.”
Right now, Anderson is trying to get on track. She says she took on the new venture in order to get a full 40-hour week for her six employees at Bit of Norway. She can use them in both places. She is building a strong reputation for good-quality, authentic Norwegian food, but modesty tends to be a trait of Norwegians.
At the courthouse, she has neat stacks of homemade cookies in plastic containers and freshly fried doughnuts. She has desserts such as bread pudding and apple and pumpkin pie. The luncheon special Thursday was chow mein with rice and a dinner roll for $3. And always, there is lefse. It goes for $1 for a moist, fresh sheet.
I ate lefse, rather than the roll, with my chow mein. The food had a
wholesome, homemade quality about it. The serving was ample.
In the background, there was a radio. I could hear Rush Limbaugh spouting about Slick Willie. At the next table, some attorneys were needling me, as attorneys tend to do. One of them said if I used his name, to spell it right. He said it was M-O-R-L-E-Y.
In the kitchen, Anderson was saying she can’t turn out lefse fast enough for her two places of business. She says she has a hard time finding people who are willing to help her roll it out.
It was lefse that got her into the food business in the first place.
“I was making it at home and selling it, and you can’t do that,” she says. “You have to have all that equipment, so I decided to do it somewhere else. After I got started in City Center Mall, I decided I had to offer more than lefse to make a go of it. It takes an awful lot of lefse to make a profit,” she muses.
Business has taken off beyond her expectations or dreams. People come in from all over for Norwegian foods, she says. “It’s not like with hamburgers. People who buy lefse or rommegrot want to talk about Norway.”
Postscript from Marilyn: “The County Coffee Court is long gone from the Grand Forks County Courthouse basement . . . and sadly missed.” Owner Elizabeth Anderson died in January 2013.
Red Lobster Offers Seafood in Landlocked North Dakota
Grand Forks: A History of American Dining in 128 Reviews Page 9