The smell hits you before the door even fully opens and your stomach immediately knows what is coming. Minnesota does soul food right at this cozy spot where everybody seems to know everybody else’s name.
I watched a woman order oxtails without even looking at the menu because she has been coming here for years. The meat falls off the bone like it has been waiting all day to meet your fork.
Collard greens simmer low and slow and taste like someone’s grandmother is watching over the pot. A handwritten sign near the register politely reminds customers that cash is the only language spoken here…