Last weekend, I traveled to Minneapolis, home of fried cheese curds, delicious walleye and Sweet Martha's cookies, to attend a friend's wedding.

As my travel budget can generally be held securely in a small child's sock, I was seeking ways to cut expenses. Maggie, my co-worker and good chum, kindly offered me her spare room. All I had to do was mow the yard, clean the gutters, fix her Vanagon and figure out what had been making that eerie knocking noise in the basement closet.

Once the yard was done, the gutters cleaned, the Vanagon healed and the gateway to Cthulhu's lair sealed, I was feeling a bit adventurous. Wanting to plan ahead for Saturday's consumption, I asked Maggie where one might find a bite to eat, and she began my Minneapolis culinary education. She was planning on competing in a triathlon, I assume spurred by an intense feeling of self-loathing and a need for physical pain, so I knew I'd better get my information before the waters of Lake Nokomis dissolved the flesh from her bones.

You see, in spite of the fact that she's a dedicated vegan, whom I call Sprouty at times (usually when she's not in arm's reach), she is well-versed in entertaining guests of a more carnivorous stripe, and has memorized the restaurant landscape of her neighborhood. She steered me first to Matt's, about six blocks away, home of the "Jucy Lucy," (spelling correct) or so they claim. The Lucy, a fairly common backyard grill creation composed of two patties of meat with cheese of one sort or another sandwiched between them, is the object of much contention in Minneapolis, with no less than three bars claiming to be the home of the "original" Lucy. On my previous visit north, one of my many bosses had treated me to the "Juicy Lucy" at The Cardinal, the other major contender for the title. Maybe it was the fact that my beloved Astros were busily losing game 5 to the Cardinals in the NLCS, or maybe it was post-travel loginess, but I was distinctly unimpressed by the burger. The cheese in the center was almost nonexistent, and the meat itself was unimpressive and somewhat dry.

So Matt's didn't have a very tough act to beat. What came off the grill on this past Saturday was what I'd imagine if you just described to me the composition of a Juicy Lucy. The patties, while pre-made and pre-pressed, were fairly juicy, and the cheese was abundant and seriously molten. In fact, a too-early first bite almost cost me my lower lip and a goodly patch of beard. The grilled onions were done perfectly, and the bun, while it could have used a bit of toasting (and maybe some mustard), was sufficient to the task of containing the burger.

All in all, however, for something purported to be a landmark of the culinary world in Minneapolis, I've got to say I was left feeling a bit empty. It was somewhat akin to being given a tremendous buildup about how great a fireworks display is going to be, then discovering said display is being put on by your neighbor with stuff he bought at a fireworks stand.

That emptiness was quickly banished, however, when I spotted another joint about which my pal Tom had raved just up the street. Joey D's bills itself as a place where one can find an authentic Chicago hot dog, and I pointed my rented Chevy toward their parking lot ... only to find there wasn't one. With the housing costs in Minneapolis, I guess I shouldn't be surprised that no one wastes valuable real estate providing places for customers to park. Fortunately, I remembered my parallel parking skills.

I walked in and was immediately greeted by a counterman whose accent placed him without shouting distance of Wrigley Field, and smelled the heavenly aromas of fresh buns, grilling dogs and tangy mustard. I ordered a pair of the Chicago dogs and some fried cheese curds, and spent my short wait perusing the load of Bears and Cubs memorabilia on the walls.

Side question: Why do I never see White Sox memorabilia in any Chicago-themed restaurant? If memory serves me correctly, they've won a world championship sometime recently.

I'm a hot dog guy from way back, and one thing that annoys the fire out of me is when someone tries to camouflage poor-quality dogs by gooping on toppings. Such errors are epidemic in my home state of North Carolina, where I've eaten no end of cruddy dogs smothered in the Carolina tradition of chili and slaw. However, I'm very pleased to say that Joey D's steered well clear of that Scylla ... and likewise avoided the Charybdis of mismatching toppings or letting one flavor pound the rest off my palate. All the traditional notes of the Chicago-style dog were there: the mustard, onions, relish, tomatoes and celery salt harmonized with a juicy, garlic-tinged pickle spear and the spicy bite of sport peppers. And the dog itself made me wish I'd ordered one with just mustard. It was a natural-casing delight, with a snap at first bite and a distinct flavor all its own.

Thus sated, at least for lunchtime, I retired to Sprouty's place to escape the 100-plus-degree heat and relax before the wedding.

The wedding was an outdoor affair, and the heat had not abated one whit by the 6:00 p.m. start time. I love my friend T.J., the groom, like a brother, but there was no way I was sticking around beyond what was strictly polite for the reception. The food spread out was alluring, and the beer was flowing freely, but my heat meter was on maximum overload. It was back into the Chevy with the air conditioner on max for me.

By the time I got back into Maggie's neighborhood, I had cooled off and was ready for something in the way of dinner. Beckoning from a mid-block spot a few blocks from the house was the Lake Inn, which promised the "best burgers in town" on its sign.

I walked in, ordered a Grain Belt beer (my Pittsburgh readers and Iron City will recognize the "local beer" rule here) and ordered a bacon cheeseburger. Mike, the bartender and fry cook, hand-shaped my patty and laid it on the grill. After providing me with my "appetizer," consisting of two rolls of ham, cream cheese and dill pickle, he tossed a generous portion of fresh-cut, skin-on french fries into a basket and got them cooking along.

A good fry cook makes everything he does look easy, and Mike was no exception. With what seemed like a minimum of effort, he produced my burger, topped with grilled onions and nestled on a big, fresh bun that had been (be still my heart) toasted on the grill where the burger was cooking, letting it soak up a bit of burgery goodness.

Friends, those of you who are burger fans know what that first bite of the perfect burger is like. You taste the meat, bun, and whatever toppings you've applied. Suddenly, your senses of hearing, touch and sight are muted as you turn all your concentration to the taste and aroma of the creation before you. That's the burger I had at the Lake Inn. It was juicy without being greasy, with that grilled crust on the outside you get from a grill that's got a "hot spot" well known by the grill man. Like a big bang of burger perfection, everything came together on the bun to create the best use of $3 I've ever found.

If you live anywhere near the Lake Inn, please make it your business to go there at least once a week. The place didn't look all that busy, and if it's gone out of business before the next time I get up there, I may just run the three blocks to the light rail tracks and throw myself under a train.

Now, you may well be asking yourself why I've just spent your time describing to you restaurants you'll likely never see. That's fair. However, as I've done so many times before, I tell you about Matt's, Joey D's and the Lake Inn to make a point: None of these places are national chains. In fact, none of them even have multiple locations. They are all one-of-a-kind restaurants, reflecting both the owners' visions and the tastes of the neighborhood. In Houston, I'd be telling you this same story about a trio of taquerias, for example.

So, your assignment for the weekend: Get out and stroll or drive around your neighborhood and find at least one little hole-in-the-wall joint. Go in, ask what the house specialty is, and order it.

Oh, and tell Mike I sent you.

Got a question? Comment? Topic you'd like to see covered? Drop me a line, anytime!