Stub and Herb’s: A Preview

Did I call Nye’s a staple fo the Minneapolis drinking scene? By comparison, then, Sturbs would be the stapler–nay–the alligator clip of the U of M drinking scene.

(Note: The Library is probably more representative of the campus drinking scene, but you have to worry about catching douchebagitis while drinking your .25¢ miller lites and eating your $2.50 cheeseburgers. Symptoms of douchbagitis include primary, secondary, and tertiary levels of popped collars)

Shrouded in the odd shaped shadows of the McNamara Alumni Center, surrounded by the masses of mediocre chain restaurants, at the heart of stadium village lies Stub and Herb’s, a pacemaker, keeping the neighborhood from flatlining. Underneath its ho-hum brick exterior you’ll find one of the best beer bars in the city, challenged by only a few in the state. Sturb’s excels at every characteristic that makes a bar worthwhile. Let’s break them down one by one:

Nye’s Polonaise Room: Preview

In writing this, I am venturing down an uncharted trail. My plan is that for every bar this group visits, we learn a bit of history–the stories, the myths, the legends which make each a venue worth visiting. Since this is the first article of its kind, it will be an experiment of sorts.

We start our alcoholic and gastronomic journey with an understated bar, a throwback bar, the bar your grandparents probably drank at, and–assuming it remains in business for another 50 years–the bar you grandchildren will drink at. We start our journey at a quintessential Minneapolis bar, Nye’s Polonaise Room.

What makes Nye’s so endearing?

When in the Course of Human Events,

… it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the alcoholic bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of satiety, the separate and equal station to which the Imbibing of Alcohol and of Food’s Consumption entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of fellow imbibers requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.