In the zone

-- Karen Brown

Entering the newly-opened Sarna’s Classic Grill in Columbia Heights, Minn., is like entering another dimension, where up is down and left is right. Never have I experienced such an odd juxtaposition of senses.

My husband Troy and I stumbled across the restaurant by accident, which is how we usually find new places to eat.

When we drove south on University Avenue, Sarna’s classic exterior and lighting attracted us. A sign outside indicated the restaurant had only been open for one week, and unlike many other restaurants we had driven past, the parking lot indicated no waiting. The restaurant was not empty by any means, but most of the clientele was in the bar — they clearly had eaten there before.

Sarna’s classic interior is well-done, with subtle lighting, hardwood floors, nicely upholstered seating and a beautifully framed fireplace. You are given an actual linen napkin with your flatware while you are audibly assaulted by the Beach Boys belting out surfer songs over the sound system.

Various sports visually assail you on a multitude of television sets. You can imagine my surprise when I looked up and saw the disco ball hidden in the ceiling rafters above us; that was when I realized the tables were set up on a dance floor, complete with a DJ set in the corner. The bar patrons apparently were waiting for us to finish eating so they could "get down."

Perhaps my anxious embarrassment with the odd clash of fine dining and classic-era flashbacks colored my judgment when evaluating the food, but I don’t think so. We began our meal with Sarna’s spinach and artichoke dip appetizer. The dip was creamy and well-done and came with lightly buttered French bread.

Troy ordered the lemon pepper walleye and I ordered the pork chops. Hamburgers topped the menu’s main course list. But I should have questioned the quality of the food when I read that one meal was labeled the "Blue Plate" special. Too bad I did not take the clues for what they were.

The food arrived. It was well placed on the plate. Though it was over buttered, Troy’s walleye was edible. My pork chops were another story—I have never seen pork chops with so much fat running through them. My green beans tasted butter - logged and soggy. And as we began to eat our buttery meals, the Village People starting calling for everyone to join them in "YMCA."

I was grateful the appetizer had been edible. At least I didn’t go completely hungry that evening.