As the refurbished Northstar Center neared its opening, a sign on Marquette Avenue may have startled some old-timers. Northstar Cafeteria, it said.
Was the fabled eatery back?
If so, why?
"Cafeteria" has an unglamorous connotation — institutional, communal, loud, charmless. Perhaps the word brings back memories of school lunches. We think it means pushing our trays down the rail, holding out a bowl for a ladle of glop, picking out some desiccated piece of meat swimming in a pan of broth, dealing with the brusque cashier at the end before finding a seat somewhere, and sitting with strangers slurping and chewing.
So, why would anyone want to call a new downtown restaurant a cafeteria?
"The cafeteria format leads to people socializing, enjoying a meal and super generous portions, all to the ends of getting people together in a community dining destination," said Matt Legge, developer and principal of Polaris Development, the New York-based firm that brought the Northstar into the 21st century,
Northstar Cafeteria's lunch menu features $14 entrees such as chicken with mushroom cream sauce and beef stroganoff, as well as lighter fare, all served in a bright ground-floor space designed to recall an idealized vision of early '60s interior design.
"The culinary team on-site has Michelin and James Beard backgrounds," Legge said, "so it's high-quality food with a convenient format."
Another reason to bring back the name: the old Northstar Cafeteria was a swank place, with modern design, abstract fixtures and an actual organist accompanying your dining. The rehabbed Northstar complex leans hard into the retro-vintage throwback vibe, so does that mean there will be a Hammond keyboard serenading your pot-roast meal?
"It's not back," Legge said with a trace of regret, "but we brought back the swankiness, the terrazzo floors, the Class A finishes. So it's really high-quality."
Going down memory lane
When it opened in 1963, the Northstar Cafeteria may have been downtown's newest and most elegant cafeteria, but it had lots of company.
The downtown YMCA and the YWCA both had a cafeteria — simple food, cheap price.
Miller's Cafeteria, whose employees were known as the Millerettes, offered such tasty dishes as new asparagus on toast for 10 cents in 1930. The original location, at 20 S. 7th Street, served over 5,000 meals a day.
It opened in 1876 and closed in 1964, a remarkable 88-year run that's surely a record.
Richards Treat Cafeteria (114 S. 6th St.) was another mainstay, and a bit more upscale. A minced ham sandwich and pimento sandwich could be had for 15 cents in the 1930s. It was named for Lenore Richards and Nola Treat, University of Minnesota home economics professors who opened the cafeteria in 1924. It closed in 1957 when the building that housed it was demolished.
The Forum Cafeteria is one that we still have with us, in body if not in spirit. It's had a remarkable history, shapeshifting from one body to another. The cafeteria opened in 1930 in the refurbished Strand Theater (36 S. 7th St.), a 1914 movie palace with an ornate white terra-cotta exterior laden with ornamental frosting. The theater closed in the late '20s, its sumptuous Spanish Renaissance interior gutted and replaced with a dazzling modern design.
Unlike Miller's or Richards Treat, the Forum was a chain, and had the budget for lavish ad campaigns. An example from 1940 showed a homemaker dismayed when she looks out the window at company coming up the walk. "Here they come, Cousin Sue, Cousin Jim and all the kids, unannounced at 10 o'clock in the morning — they must think I can slice some ham and whip up a meal in a minute! What will I do?"
Why, head to the Forum, of course.
Another ad showed two young ladies who saved enough eating cafeteria food that they could afford a vacation to a dude ranch.
Each ad had a picture of a small sack of money, with the words "Save $104 a year." Yes, it cost you money not to live the cafeteria life.
The Forum closed in 1975, but the interior was preserved. It was a disco for a while. The City Center development intended to demolish it, which seemed like a spiteful act of the brute against the beauty, but preservationists sued. The interior was incorporated into the dead bulk of City Center, and you can visit today and see what a 1939 cafeteria looked like.
It would be nice if the Northstar eatery inspired a new age of cafeterias, but it probably won't. There aren't enough people downtown to justify it. We can hope the Northstar Cafeteria does well, though, and considers bringing back some of the old staples.
Organ serenades, that is. Not canned asparagus on toast.