Grand Casino Mille Lacs Serves Food?

Yeah, I was fooled on that one, too. I thought the only thing a person could find at Grand Casino Mille Lacs was the morbidly obese, the down trodden and those that miss the ability to smoke indoors.

My vision was foggy. Reality a mix of present time and images of the night before. Drinking, a lot of it. At one of Garrison, Minnesota's finest establishments. Country music. Shots. A local television celebrity wasted on tequila and very interested in the two women kissing in front of him. 

I know, more than anything right now, you want to know what I ate at the casino, so I won't waste any more time with the trivial visual accounts of the unnamed but very recognizable Minnesota television personality that could easily find their way to the gossip section.

Making my way through the fog of Marlboro smoke, wave after wave of cellulite and finally testing my agility and dexterity against an army of motorized Rascal wheelchairs, I found myself at the Grand Northern Grill just before they stopped serving breakfast.

Perhaps the Gods of Providence wanted me to see what the Casino had to offer. Perhaps the Gods of Obesity wanted to make me a part of their flock. Regardless, I moved forward.

As usual, my eyes floated towards the Biscuits & Gravy. The safe bet. Fatty, meaty goodness that with rare variance is the same the world around. However, in the both next to me sat a couple. The man seemed to have a "Jersey Thing" going on. Greased hair, Ed Hardy rip off shirt. But more importantly was what he was eating. What they were sharing.

One plate. Two people. The Lumberjack Breakfast for $9.99. Three eggs, hash browns, choice of two meats (ham, sausage patties or bacon), pancakes and toast (either white or wild rice). Utterly massive.

How did it taste? Like breakfast. What the hell else does eggs and hash browns taste like? I'm not Andrew Zimmern. If I roll my eyes while I eat it is because I am choking or passing out. And nothing, nothing should every be described as creamy. Unless it is actually cream.

The plate itself was huge, making what was on it seem like a completely conquerable task, but by the time I got to the two pancakes, portion size alone was enough to make me want to throw in the towel. But I'm not a quitter.

I also got the Grand Casino Mille Lacs’ Famous Cinnamon Roll. Cinnamon-spiked sweet dough freshly baked and topped with our creamy confectioners icing. $3.49

God damnit, they just had to call it creamy. Didn't they? This isn't sheep testicles. It's just icing. And lots of it.

Has anyone ever described the amount of food using "a camel's foot" as a reference point? Perhaps somewhere in the Sahara. However, that is most likely for an actual camel's foot.

The cinnamon roll in front on me was the size of a camel's foot. Slathered in frosting. It's weight measurable in pounds, not ounces.

How did it taste? Dense.

Add a few cups of coffee to compound last night's gut rot and I had all the ammo I needed to reek havoc on the casino's pipelines. Serves them right for taking my money in a fair game of chance.

I am not a gambling man, unless it is with questionable foreign alcohols and meats. I don't care to risk my money on table games. I will however remember that should another day come when I feel the need to drown my emotions in food, while bathed in a sea of stale smoke and hopeless addicts, I would definitely make another trip to the Grand Northern Lodge.

Though I think that I would have to find levels of self degredation and lack of humiliation that reflect the lost souls at the penny slots.

However, if you should be there amongst the walking dead, I readily recommend this breakfast. You obviously don't have that much else going for you. Might as well be full.