Sunday brought the opportunity to try out the highly-regarded Hell’s Kitchen in downtown Minneapolis. Robin, Andy, Michelle and Dwight met us down there, and after about 45 minutes of waiting we were able to get a table. Regrettably, long lines aren’t necessarily a sign of high quality in the Cities, and the visit to Hell’s kitchen seemed to support that. Granted, my food wasn’t bad, per se, but it wasn’t the mean breakfast I’d been hoping for. The best I could say about it right now is it’s kind of like the Uptown or Sunnyside minus the grease, and with clean floors. Now, that’s definitely better than the standard around here, but I’m not sure it’s worth a $95 bill for six people, an amount that could’ve brought a damn good breakfast at the French Meadow.

I’m not saying we won’t try Hell’s Kitchen again, either–I’m sure we will, and I’ll try to get around the menu somewhat. (I had the Hell’s Breakfast Stir-Fry, Lisa the homemade yogurt. I tried both and neither were that great.) But, for now, it doesn’t seem to be anything special.