Rx for winter

BY CARLA WALDEMAR

Timber Lodge
6501 Wayzata Blvd.,
St. Louis Park
952-345-0505
Happy 2010, and the start of cabin fever.
This year, Dr. Carla’s got an antidote for you, and it’s far more fun (and cheaper) than a dose of penicillin. When the winter blues infest your household, as you start counting the minutes till you can head north again to the cabin, head, instead, to Timber Lodge.

It’s decorated a bit better than your average Minn-esota cabin, anyway, what with a deer head of enviable dimensions mounted on the mammoth fieldstone fireplace whose mission is to banish gloom and shivers. There’s also a mountain goat surveying patrons at the entry of the St. Louis Park location, which opened in November (talk about good timing). And right inside stands the kitchen’s pride and joy (well, next to the chef): a spinning rotisserie, grilling grub far superior (I’m guessing) to the meat Dad incinerates whenever he dons that Kiss the Cook apron. (Or maybe I just married the wrong man. Next time, I’ll insist on culinary school credentials as part of the pre-nup agreement.)

Not only is the steakhouse’s thick-cut prime rib pink and tasty and infused with an alluring hint of wood smoke from its turn on the rotisserie, it’s a downright bargain. The Ole cut—a full pound—sells for $24, the petite (only by Bunyan standards) Lena, 10 oz., is $18, and the pre-6 p.m. version for $14. And those prices include a complete dinner: housemade soup or salad, a mini-loaf of bread, fresh veggies, and potato of your choice. Try that at any other steakhouse, I dare you!
The soup was hearty, the Caesar the winner among several tempting salads, and the veg du jour green beans, slim and crisp and steamed with a lovely hint of garlic. The honey-wheat bread was far too sweet for my taste, but hey: I’m just sayin’.

And the potato? OK, I’ve got a confession. Instead, we ordered the sumptuous lobster-truffle mac & cheese ($12), a specialty borrowed from sister restaurant Alaskan Eatery. The curly noodles come draped in a rich Cheddar-Gruyere sauce, further gentrified with an aromatic dash of truffle oil and mighty chunks of lobster. Maybe that’s where the saying originated about a silk purse ...
Another Alaskan favorite jumped ship: king crab legs. What makes them uniquely diner-friendly is what they’re calling a “window cut”—lengthwise, down the middle of the shell, so you don’t have to fight for your dinner. They’re served with melted butter and lemon galore, of course (half-pound $18, including all the trimmings). The menu boasts plenty more seafood and steak choices, as well as a cheeseburger with fries for $9—which is cheaper than a babysitter, so bring the kids.

They’ll love the cheese curds, too—good ol’ Wis-consin Cheddar, ever so lightly battered and deep-fried till nice and melty, then served with a ranch dressing dip. Even better on the (excuse me) Itasca-tizer list: a slim pair of fishcakes, crafted from wild-caught walleye, whose dainty flavor isn’t overwhelmed with overkill of breading. They’re served with a smoky chipotle mayo that bears a terrific little jolt of heat. Just what the doctor ordered.

If he’s smart, he’ll also go for the Baked Alaska ($8), too, taken from the endangered species list and resurrected from the Thirties for a whole new generation to enjoy. Here’s the deal, for the enlightenment of all you born post-Alaska: It starts with a layer of sponge cake (chocolate, here). That’s mounded with ice cream (raspberry and vanilla do the honors), then completely covered with meringue, which then gets oven-toasted until its peaks turn golden. (And no, the ice cream doesn’t melt; that’s the party trick.)