soap3rz

[soap3rz]

History and Psychosis

The Scream by Edvard Munch (1893). As the story goes, Edvard was out for a walk shortly after his sister had been committed to an insane asylum. Suddenly, the skies turned red and he sensed ‘a scream’. He depicted this experience of psychosis in his most famous painting. The crazy thing about psychosis is how misunderstood it is in the popular imagination. What does it mean to have and how do…

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#Culture #history #psychology #writing

[soap3rz]

Stendhal is Dead

I’ve fallen out of love with Italy. It’s a devastating realization, to be standing in the middle of a beautiful Italian city and…feel nothing at all. An emptiness. A resentment for the cultural idea of love and passion—to witness the gentle way a couple will hold and kiss the other and to have your heart squeeze not in adoration but envy. Fuck that. It’s not real. This whole thing is a lie. The…

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#history #Italy #love #Travel #writing

[soap3rz]

On Tragedy

In the words of the eminently fictional Don Draper from Mad Men, “People do things.” We each live our own stories adjacent to one another, some of us more headful than others in our actions and choices. Sometimes, no matter the rationale or forethought, events and situations befall and unfold around us. If we truly are the hero of our own journey, there is a certain amount of agency we ascribe to…

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#Drama #Greek #history #Self-Help #Theater #writing

[soap3rz]

The Latin Cure for Love and Heartbreak

The Latin Cure for Love and Heartbreak

Sappho out here making melancholy and unrequited love look good #goals Love futue-ing sucks. We feel lucky enough to have it for a brief fleeting moment and then immediately regret it when we find ourselves flailing on the bathroom floor in a pool of our own tears, clutching our hearts and wearing headphones with crooning lovelorn songs from Andrea Botticelli in our ears. It’s god damn painful…

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#classical #history #love #poetry #Relationships #writing

[soap3rz]

In Vino Veritas: In Wine, There is Truth

In Vino Veritas: In Wine, There is Truth

How many of us have woken up the next morning questioning ourselves–“Did I really just do that?” Those drunken speeches in jolly confessional that were regrettably recorded on video, the inebriated passion in the throes of another’s embrace, or phoning your ex while intoxicated to express exactly how you still feel about them. Sure, blame it on the alcohol–most people unwilling to accept personal…

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#Drinking #history #psychology #sexuality #writing

[soap3rz]

Let Them Eat Cake

If you’ve heard the name Marie Antoinette, there’s a strong chance you might know her as the queen who supposedly said ‘Let them eat cake’ in response to her citizens being unable to afford bread and who was later decapitated for it. Except she didn't.

“Eat the Rich!” is certainly a common refrain these days. Pandemics and economic recessions aside, the chasm between the haves and have-nots has only seemed to widen for decades. The anger of people tired of the way things keep going is starting to seem palatable, riots and protests a weekly occurrence, and with the recent tone deaf renovation of the White House’s Rose Gardenon the taxpayers…

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#French Revolution #history #Marie Antoinette #writing

[soap3rz]

Cicero versus Cleopatra

Cicero versus Cleopatra -- What happens when two colossal figures of history, famous for their power and influence, meet at a party for the first time?

Cleopatra on the Terraces of Philae; Frederick Arthur Bridgman 1896 What happens when two colossal figures of history, famous for their power and influence, meet at a party for the first time?

At the age of 60-years-old, Cicero had lived quite a full life in Roman politics by the time 46 AD sluggishly rolled around. In fact, the famous orator shared a lived experience similar to that of the…

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#classical #Egypt #history #Rome #writing

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The World in the 4th Century BC

The World in the 4th Century BC

The beginning is the most important part of the work – Plato, The Republic [1]

How do you sum up over 4,000 years of recorded human history in one short blog post? The answer is, you can’t.

If you think about it this way, you and I are a mere 2,375 years removed from the moment in time when Alexander drew his first breath. For people living in the 4th century BC, they were even more further…

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What's so Great about Alexander?

What’s so Great about Alexander?

  Alexander the Great fighting Darius III mosaic found in the ruins of Pompeii, House of the Faun (100 BC)

  Imagine that everyone knows your name.

It doesn’t feel that intimidating, right? If you’re sitting in a bar called Cheersor you are perhaps from a small town, everyone knowing your name isn’t that unusual or profound. But now try to think about what it might be like for the whole world to…

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#Ancient #classical #history #writing

[soap3rz]

La Voisin and the Affair of the Poisons

What a beautiful palace you have, would be a shame if there were witches

Right now, most of us are stuck indoors waiting for the world to calm down. Or maybe we are frantically running amok buying out all the toilet paper for some reason. Either way, it’s likely that we’re all feeling a little bit of panic right now over whether or not we (or someone we love) will catch viral plague. Or perhaps…

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#France #history #Humor #Witchcraft #writing

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Pissing off the Romans: Vespasian's Urine Tax

Pissing off the Romans: Vespasian’s Urine Tax

You can’t spell Vespasian without ‘P’

It’s that time of year, folks. Some of us dread tax season, while others have already excitedly processed our W-2 forms and gotten our refund checks already snugly cushioned in our savings account where they will soon be pilfered and turned into euros for next month (Rome and Athens here I come!). No matter how you feel about it, what all of us likely have in…

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#history #Humor #Roman history #Taxes #writing

[soap3rz]

That Asshole Commodus

Accurate.

As most of the popcorn munching smelly theater seat dwellers know by now, Gladiator was a pretty manly and kick-ass flick that was every bit deserving of that Best Picture golden boy as Saving Private Ryan was….OH WAIT. Anyway, it would seem that most movie-goers find themselves quite familiar with Joaquin Phoenix’s portrayal of an eccentric Dumbledore murdering, “bosom breast children…

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#Commodus #Gladiator #history #Humor #Roman history #writing

[soap3rz]

Tutankhamun the Boy King and My First History Crush

Tutankhamun the Boy King and My First History Crush

When I was 8-years old and most girls were decorating their bedroom walls with posters of Leonardo DiCaprio, I was busy ogling thick textbooks filled with images of sinewy, mostly-shirtless pharaohs. This childhood interest of mine was not at all helped by the release of the Dreamworks animated film The Prince of Egyptthat same year which was similarly filled with plenty of cartoon biceps. And as…

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#Ancient Egypt #archaeology #history #Humor #writing

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Thumps Up for Roman Gladiators

Thumps Up for Roman Gladiators

Pollice Verso (Thumbs Down) by Jean-Leon Gerome 1824-1904

The image of a Roman gladiator’s fate being decided by a thumbs up or down is iconic–one that can be recalled in many Hollywood films including Ridley Scott’s Gladiator and the famous painting Pollice Versoby Jean-Leon Gerome. Many may find themselves familiar with the painting but might not know that the image above became the basis for…

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#Ancient #classical #Gladiators #history #Rome #writing

[soap3rz]

The Roman Vomitorium - A Regurgitating Myth

The Roman Vomitorium – A Regurgitating Myth

The Colosseum should just be renamed ‘The Vomitorium’ so people finally get it.

Nothing makes me want to hurl more than oft repeated historical misunderstandings. ‘Christopher Columbus discovered America’ is a saying that forces me to eat copious amounts of cake to feel sane, hearing “Napoleon Bonaparte was really short” and I can be seen adding glasses of wine to the mix, and listening to…

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#Facts #history #Roman Empire #Trivia #writing

[soap3rz]

Plan your visit (and reservation requests) accordingly!

The given address goes to a Steampunk cafe specializing in games and coffee–another novelty era ripe for nostalgic yearning but not the one we were looking for. Where the hell is this place? The first time I had visited Volstead’s Emporium in Uptown, Minnesota I was accompanied by a friend who was already privy to the location. Half the appeal of a secret speakeasy hidden away in a niche part of town already known for it’s fanciful coffee-shops, coin operated video game arcade clubs, and ‘hot yoga’–is that it’s a destination prided on the fact that you kind of already need to know where you’re going. Like being a member of an Eyes Wide Shut sexy, Eleusinian Mysteries kind of cult meeting or a pirate marauding around the Caribbean looking for the Isla De Muerta–an island that cannot be found except by those who already know where it is. Being ‘in the know’ about Volstead’s Emporium adds a lot to its notoriety. Going to their website offers no assistance–there is no address, no online menu, no pictures or an extensive proselytizing ‘About’ page. It’s tough to know this place even exists, or what it is, unless you become one of the initiated via word of mouth.

We were driving around Uptown one evening where, during a traffic stop, I recognized the location we were at–and that down that seedy, familiar-looking alleyway nestled behind the Steampunk cafe was the secret speakeasy I had wanted to take my boyfriend to for ages. It felt like a re-discovery and I hastily tried to remember where it was for next time, when we would plan our visit and get to transport ourselves to a faux, 1920’s era den of libations.

~

For those who need a quick History lesson to refresh–the Temperance movement in the United States won a political victory from 1920-1933 when the entire country went “dry”. Meaning, the 18th Amendment to the Constitution was drafted and the production, sale, and transportation of alcohol was banned. To enforce this draconian rule, the government passed the Volstead Act (Where our friendly Emporium likely took its name from) which went a step further in defining the intoxicating substances that were banned and the punishments that came with breaking these laws. The rise of bootlegging, gangsters, and speakeasies–secret law-breaking establishments selling banned booze–became a direct consequence and the 1920’s is forever remembered with these associations. 

~

Unfortunately, memory is only as good as it is served. Turns out, when the summer construction is hazardous and the Happy Hour besought motorists are honking more persistently than a skein of geese, it can be a bit frustrating to try and remember a scattering of location markers after finally getting lucky finding a parking spot. Had I known that the large, neon gleaming sign for beer and bratwurst king New Bohemia resided across the street from our desired crime scene alleyway, our journey on empty stomachs might have been easier to bear. Once found, walking down said alleyway gives off an appropriate air of sleaziness, and as sweltering as the heat often gets in the summer, I was just thankful it wasn’t garbage from the line of dumpsters that marked our path. Hanging a left midway, there’s a smattering of apartment balconies claustrophobic-ly clustered together and in the small back of the building obstructed by vents, there resides a large bolted metal door with a creepy red serial killer light hanging above it. A most welcoming destination, if I ever saw one.

Yeah this seems…

…safe?

 “It’s all you, babe.”

I took this initiative with the fervent composure of a Flapper girl, who had likely already spent most of the evening dancing the Charleston to extinction, and rapped the door with my knuckles like I knew exactly what I was getting myself into. The slot in the door opens and a pair of eyes greets you–“Yes?”

“We have a reservation for two!”

“Name?”

The door is unbolted and we entered into a stairwell devoid of any identifying features aside from the bookie wearing a surprisingly dapper get-up. “Enjoy” is all he says as he goes back to manning the door. It’s up to us to take ourselves down the stairs and to the basement where we stand momentarily confused, there are at least three doors to choose from–not one of them marked with a sparkling Go Here to Drink sign to help us out. We could just make out the muffled sound of chatter and glass clinking enough to try Door Number 1–which ended up leading us into a time machine.

Managed to capture before the place got packed!

An oft overlooked aspect of any dining experience is the ability to transport a patron. This can happen with really good food–it’s much easier to feel like you’re on the coast of Sorrento enjoying a bowl of pasta in a white wine sauce when the spaghetti is al dente and the clams are cooked to perfection and you’re even given a shot of limoncello to chase it all down with. But atmosphere is just as important too and at Volstead’s–you do feel like you just stepped into a 1920’s speakasy which would make even the most classy of bathtub gin stirrers proud.

There are no windows and the establishment is dimly lit, there’s a piano and a jazz player in the back corner strumming soft melodies with the tempered line of the bartender shaking drinks. People are laughing uproariously all around, likely amplified by the low ceiling and general jovialness that comes with a really well mixed cocktail. It’s welcoming–and cuts the tension had while trying to find the place to begin with.

The Old Fashioneds here are one of my favorites in the state: Bourbon, applewood smoked demerara, and house blend bitters.

We were seated at a booth across from the parlor tables, draped with curtains we could easily pull for more privacy. It felt like we were only missing poker chips and the acrid smoke of cigars hanging in the air to set the mood into one in need of a police raid. For another brief moment, I felt like a femme fatale who was clandestinely meeting with a surly detective across from me, who was cloaked in a make-believe fedora and interrogating me on my whereabouts the night Tommy the Gun was murdered–all under the veneer of a heavy sepia filter. Or that was just the Old Fashioneds talking.

Volstead’s is a novelty experience, a way to feel like you’re in a piece of history for the night–surrounded by good drinks and food to boot. There’s a library room where you could sit and partake in a re-imagined game of Clue wearing monocles and dinner jackets, a large dial safe loitering under the stairs where surely the funds of nefarious mobster money ventures is well hidden, and there is even a telephone booth in the back by the restrooms for even the most ardent Doctor Who fan to enjoy. Voldstead’s is straight up cool so put that in your pipe and smoke it.

The scene of the crime, where Mrs. Peacock allegedly bludgeoned Colonel Mustard with a copy of Marie Kondo’s Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up.

No one warned us about the framed mirror on the wall of our booth, that it would swing open and the waiter would grin as we jumped in surprise, serving as a portal in which to take our food and drink orders. I think the waitstaff probably finds most of their amusement in this gimmick–and it’s certainly a fun experience to team up with your waiter on. There is a buzzer under the mirror when you’re ready to order and there was at least one more incident where the frame creaked open like a horror movie prop with no waiter to be found, only for him to pop up into view a second later and ask what we’d like–to more jump scares from us. It’s hilarious.

Bwaaaahm

Now all of this is fine and dandy, right? But the main attraction of any dining establishment is the food. And oh boy, does it not disappoint. The first time I went to Voldstead’s, I chose a guilt-free zucchini carbonara with added shrimp that was surprisingly complex and topped off the evening with warm, gooey bread pudding. This time, I went with the usual favorites my boy detective and I usually partake in at other restaurants–the first test for us being the charcuterie plate. I finally learned how to properly pronounce “charcuterie” when I embarrassingly ordered it incorrectly and my windowed waiter set me straight–not sure whether he was smirking at my inability to speak French or because I was recovering from another fun jump scare. Not to be a gerkin (no old fashioneds were consumed in the making of this dad joke), but I’m pretty easy to satisfy when it comes to charcuterie plates–the server had me at spicy salami, spec, and capicola. I was so excited I didn’t even pay attention to what the cheeses were.

Mmmm, gerkins

Next, I ordered the most basic sounding ‘Steak & Potatoes’ which was anything but and I got it cooked a beautiful, medium-rare despite ordering it just medium, but hey–they were just looking out for me and my philistine steak preparation ordering ways. This is one of the better steaks I’ve eaten and I didn’t need to drop a $500 tab at Manny’s to enjoy it–this gorgeous hunk of meat is up there with the bavette I had at 112 Eatery and the steak I had at a (now closed) restaurant outside of New York City I had visited in high school that was apparently one of Elvis’ favorites.

8oz Bavette, herb potatoes and grilled asparagus with peppercorn cognac sauce. #NeverForget

Though any sane person would be full at this point and I was working on my second cocktail (Like Clockwork–Cognac, Bourbon, Dolin dry, Amaro Nonino, Orange Bitters, Expressed Orange–definitely got me all good and “bezoomny”!), a place can’t be sufficiently done and tried until you order a dessert and a regular, black coffee. Now, it should shock no one to know that I can be a bit of a pedant about certain things–and coffee is one of those things. I’ve worked in and out of the coffee industry for the better part of 8 years as a barista and on the corporate level slinging office work. It’s not particularly hard to find quality, well-sourced beans and it is even easier to brew them right. A restaurant can tell me a lot about how much they care about every aspect of their commitment to quality and food by how good their regular brewed coffee tastes. I’ve been disappointed in establishments that otherwise provide good meals but then serve up bitter, black water mudd that tastes like it had been sitting for more than 2 hours in back. I move from disappointed to irritated when this crime is committed by an authentically-declared French or Italian restaurant where ending your meal with a good coffee is tantamount to the cultural experience. One sip from Volstead’s chosen brew and I knew this place really was every bit as great as I knew it to be.

Tiramisu because I’m ‘basic Italian’

The tiramisu I ordered for dessert wasn’t bad either–and as your resident swarthy Italian-American, I’ve had plenty of tiramisu in my day. The only thing about it I found particular to note, was how the lady fingers weren’t soggy and absolutely drowning in booze and/or coffee. Unlike me this evening, of course.

So, dear reader, consider yourself well and in the know about Volstead’s Emporium in Uptown, MN. I’ve now passed on the secret to you–and if you’re in the area or visiting the Twin Cities, I hope that you take a moment to stumble around W. Lake St. attempting to find it. But shhhhh–don’t tell your dinner companion(s) about the mirror window.

Volstead’s Emporium: A Hidden Speakeasy in Uptown, MN The given address goes to a Steampunk cafe specializing in games and coffee--another novelty era ripe for nostalgic yearning but not the one we were looking for.

#Food #history #Minnesota #Review #Travel

[soap3rz]

Visit Cossetta’s here: https://cossettas.com/

While there are legitimate concerns out there over the authenticity of cultural cuisines and our American foundation of fast food and franchise chain restaurants, taking what is not ours and spinning for profit–it’s easy to get caught up on what is “real” food and what isn’t. One conversation, however, that I feel myself irked by consistently, is what makes Italian food authentic here in the United States. It’s a fair question, after all, because you’re not likely to find meatballs, Alfredo sauce, garlic bread, or a “Hot Dago” [1] back in the Old Country of Italy. But there is a distinct difference in what is Italian and what is Italian-American. After all, the cuisines of immigrants who came from Italy was heavily influenced in not only their fellow foreigners and adjacency to other cultural cuisines, but also in being forced to adapt old dishes to new based on the availability of foods in The States at that time. What we have here is a hodgepodge of old Italian with a distinctly American flair. How do you make do without olive oil? Butter up that bread instead and use plenty of garlic. And what do you do when you show up in a country that’s brimming with cows? Pack up those meatballs like your friendly neighborhood Swedes and toss them in the sugo! And, speaking of sauce, pretty much the only kind easily made was red because canned tomatoes were the only thing easily found in markets at the time–until you got to Alfredo sauce. “Who is Alfredo?” Native Italians will ask–well, he was a chef in Rome back in 1914 who made a white sauced based dish that happened to be served with fettuccine noodles that day when two American Silent-Film Stars dined at his restaurant. They loved it so much, they took the recipe back home which became a hit among the elite, solidifying its popularity in Olive Garden’s across the nation after Alfredo’s family later opened a few restaurants showcasing the dish stateside in the 1970’s. [2] So perhaps you can’t find meatball sub sandwiches in Italy, but these are authentic to and traditional Italian-American foods that were invented right here in the United States due to the unique cultural experiences of Italian immigrants at the time.

And probably nothing more storied to this unique experience of cultural history exists in Minnesota than Cossetta’s Market–a pinnacle of Italian-American cuisine and heritage here in St. Paul. 

Cossetta’s Market as it stood in 1952. (Photo: Minnesota Historical Society)

In the late 19th century, around 10,000 Italian immigrants made their way to Minnesota–a vast majority of them settling around the Twin Cities, Duluth, and the Iron Range. My great-grandfather was one of them, opting to work in the mines up north. Most of them settled in St. Paul, however, and clustered near the Upper Levee/Landing or “Little Italy” where many of them worked on the railroad (In the 50’s, the Mississippi River flooded this area over and the neighborhood, unfortunately, was forced to relocate). As a result, St. Paul began to see a number of Italian run stores and restaurants pop up and among them was Cossetta’s in 1911. Michael Cossetta came from Calabria, Italy–a region where my family also hails from and can be found on the toe of the Italian boot–and established his deli on the Upper Levee. The market passed through family hands until current owner Dave Cossetta took it over in 1978, at the time only 21-years old and a meat cutter by trade. [4]

It was under Dave that Cossetta’s began to expand into the block of Italian fare it is today. He moved the market to it’s current location–situated down the street from Xcel Energy Center and within walking distance of the Minnesota History Center, Cathedral of Saint Paul, and the Science Museum of Minnesota (Here’s looking at you, Stranger Things fans!) and started branching out into selling meats, deli, and imported Italian groceries. In the grocery, you can find entire aisles dedicated to Italian olive oils, chocolates & candy, noodles, sauces, coffee, etc. And though slightly overpriced, it makes for the ideal stop to get a quick fix of whatever goodie you fell in love with overseas. The meats & deli alone are also worth a gander–it’s the best place to find a variety of spicy capicola (my family’s favorite), the best porchetta & prosciutto in town, and fresh hand-rolled ricotta cheese for those of us who still make their lasagnas homemade.

And the bread, THE BREAD!

Dave then expanded Cossetta’s into a Marketplace & Eatery–it’s here you can find a full quick-service dining experience where you can stuff your face with a slice of pizza, some of the heavenly Mostaccioli con Ricotta–a Cossetta’s staple–or simply run away with a to-go box of tiramisu before all of the delicious carbs slay you.

Or, if you’re looking for a more intimate, fine dining experience–Louis Ristorante & Bar was opened upstairs in 2012 with an eye for both more upscale, traditional mainland Italian dishes as well as some Italian-American staples like Mama Frieda’s meatballs! I’ve eaten at Louis a few times and lemme just…

Special Feature

Bucatini All’ Amatriciana

‘Louis’ Brick Chicken

Formaggi & Frutta

But perhaps the best thing about Cossetta’s is the newly added pastry shop which was designed to reassemble a pasticceria in Italy–it was actually made there, disassembled, and shipped to the US where it was rebuilt for Cossetta’s by Italian craftsmen. [5] Having been to a few of the real deals myself, it certainly does feel like I’m back in Rome.

Not pictured: Drool. Photo from MPR

Leave the diet, take the cannolis! Cakes, tarts, gelati–it’s sweets heaven courtesy of Cossetta’s here. The tables are even packed in and tight just like a real pastry shop in Italy would be–so get over your claustrophobia and get the Italian experience the way it was meant to be, elbows touching and cream puffs oozing. And, naturally, I’ve indulged in my fair share of Lavazza espresso (You’ll find this brand everywhere in Italy!) and gelato here.

  Since Dave took over ownership of Cossetta’s, he’s transformed it into a pillar of both Italian-American and traditional Italian cuisine. The blend of both Italian heritages married together like a sweet marinara sauce. Cossetta’s is one of the original Italian restaurants here in Minnesota, so its foundation of Italian-American historical significance had never been in question. But as the years have gone by and with remodels, expansions, and continued redesigns–Cossetta’s is now one of the best stops to get a little taste of the real Italy across the sea too. I’ve gone here to shop for groceries and pick up spicy capicola, tomatoes, and peasant bread to make sandwiches just like my Italian-American grandfather would eat on the farm up north. I’ve been here for coffee and dessert, or for a Christmas party with all of my aunts and cousins where we sat upstairs digging into chicken parmigiana. I’ve gone on dates with my boyfriend to Louis, had met my Italian language class there at the end of semester, and sometimes I’ve simply been in that area of St. Paul walking along the sidewalk–taking the time to smile and marvel at the collection of Italian antiques and decorations in the window.

To me, Cossetta’s is the beating heart of being an Italian-American here in Minnesota.

    Footnotes, citations, and other reading:

[1] Norton, James. “St. Paul’s “Hot Dago” Sandwich Offers No Apologies, Few Explanations, and a Half-pound of Sausage.” The Takeout. July 13, 2018. Accessed July 22, 2019. https://thetakeout.com/st-paul-s-hot-dago-sandwich-offers-no-apologies-few-1825333299.

[2] Coleman, Todd. “The Real Alfredo.” Saveur. Accessed July 22, 2019. https://www.saveur.com/article/Kitchen/The-Real-Alfredo/.

[3] Sazevich, Jim. “Italians” Accessed July 22, 2019. https://saintpaulhistorical.com/items/show/40

[4] Pioneer Press. “Cossetta’s, a St. Paul Classic, Grows Thanks to Owner’s Vision.” Twin Cities. November 05, 2015. Accessed July 22, 2019. https://www.twincities.com/2013/01/15/cossettas-a-st-paul-classic-grows-thanks-to-owners-vision/.

[5] Staff, BMTN. “Cossetta in St. Paul Shows off Restaurant Remodel.” Bring Me The News. October 19, 2012. Accessed July 22, 2019. https://bringmethenews.com/news/cossetta-in-st-paul-shows-off-restaurant-remodel.

Cossetta’s Alimentari: An Italian Market & Pizzeria in St. Paul, MN While there are legitimate concerns out there over the authenticity of cultural cuisines and our American foundation of fast food and franchise chain restaurants, taking what is not ours and spinning for profit--it's easy to get caught up on what is "real" food and what isn't.

#Food #history #Italians #Minnesota #Travel