Snowflakes, Change and Potato Ricers

        Big, puffy snowflakes were just starting to fall late Friday afternoon as I left Grandpa Steve’s house in Lindstrom. While thick snow is not conducive to safe driving, it’s great for mood-setting. The greatly softened light and the audible hush that falling snow creates can be magical to the senses. Linda was in Utah with Tauna so I was free to indulge my moods. I decided it was a perfect time for a trip down memory lane at the Dinnerbel Restaurant.     

            As I waited for my order I looked out the window at the brand new bridge between North and South Lindstrom Lake. I thought about the many changes I’ve seen here and pondered the changes soon to come. My mind wandered over the long history our family has had with this little hamlet. 

View from my table at the Dinnerbel. The new bridge needs only the fancy architectural lighting on the abutments... and it's done.

The original railway bridge on this same site was built in 1880, about ten years before Emil Newlander came to town. The last train crossed it in 1948 when I turned two. (The train shown is not that train.)

           One of my earliest Lindstrom memories took place only a few feet from where I was sitting looking out the window. I’m guessing it was about sixty years ago. I believe the occasion was a Sunday lunch with our little family and Grandma Ruth. Eating out was quite rare in our family, so this was a special treat. I ordered, or more likely, someone ordered for me, fried chicken and potatoes. When the food arrived at our table the potatoes were in a large serving bowl. We were each asked if we wanted them ‘riced’ or not. I had eaten riced potatoes before at home, but never in a restaurant.  Of course, I wanted them riced. The waitress, who was a friend of grandmas, grabbed a ricer off the serving tray. It was exactly like the one we had at home, even the same pale green color and somewhat beat-up appearance. Somehow, I guess I was expecting a more elegant, restaurant-style, ricing treatment. Then, with one quick ‘squish,’ I had a pile of steaming potato on my plate.  The only other aspect I remember was that when gravy was ladled onto the potatoes it seeped through to the bottom of the serving, instead of staying on the top, like with mashed potatoes. It’s funny what kids remember.

This is exactly like the ricer we had when I was growing up. This item, above, now available on Etsy for fourteen bucks plus postage.

            Friday night I enjoyed wild rice soup, BBQ chicken breasts and sweet potato fries with garlic mayo. Quite delicious, and not a potato ricer in sight.

            Downtown Lindstrom has been undergoing revitalization, a new streetscape and a re-routing of the traffic. Northeast bound traffic though the business section is now one-way up until the Holiday station. Traffic headed toward the cities goes past the back side of the downtown businesses. It will be interesting to see if the businesses try to capitalize on the southbound traffic flow.

Fancy new lighting, two lanes of one way traffic and curb cuts for parking give old Lindstrom a new look.

Southbound traffic now goes past the back of the downtown businesses. (Holiday station on left.)

           

  In spite of the many changes, the basic look and feel of Lindstrom is remarkably similar to the little village I knew as a child. I must say that continuing places, like the Dinnerbel, help to keep those fond memories alive.

July 1989. Dinner at the Dinnerbel after a day of water sledding.