What’s the weirdest snack you’ve ever smuggled into a movie theater?
Back in Boston, a friend of mine once snuck a Kelly’s roast beef sandwich into the Jordan’s Furniture IMAX. (IYKYK.) There was a time I brought leftover D-Spot wings to the Marcus Oakdale Cinema, which I’m sure everyone else at my screening of Halloween could identify from the smell. I’ve seen fellow theatergoers crack open Jimmy John’s sandwiches, burgers from McDonald’s, and Crunchwrap Supremes. A certain Racket editor is partial to Baba’s Pita Puffs for easy, silent movie snacking, which I’ve always found charming.
But no smuggled movie theater food has made me laugh quite as much as the pizza rolls my friend Kel brought from Lonely’s into the Main Cinema just after the new bar opened earlier this summer. Every part of it was comedy to me: the fact that Lonely’s pizza rolls ($7) are in fact Totino’s Pizza Rolls™; that they somehow took longer to arrive, by several minutes, than the rest of the prepared food we’d ordered; the little toothpicks that poked the piping-hot rolls; the way the little paper boat nestled just-so into Kel’s yellow fanny pack.
There’s just something about this that gets me:
(Don’t worry: Because we love the Main and love snacking we also bought several tubs of popcorn, THC drinks, and a Pryes Pragmatic Pils.)
Architecturally and spiritually, Lonely’s, the new bar on St. Anthony Main located right next to the Main, fits in perfectly on its cobblestoned stretch of Minneapolis along the Mississippi. Out front, bench seating and a series of tiny tables create an effortless transition from bar to sidewalk, and Lonely’s wide windows open onto the street. The bar isn’t just located on St. Anthony Main but a fundamental part of it. The door is simple, bordering on hard to find, with classic gold-leaf lettering above it that subtly spells out “Lonely’s.”
While this bar is new, its building isn’t; the space at 117 SE Main St. dates back to the late 1800s. Lonely’s most recent predecessor, Pracna on Main, billed itself as the “oldest continuously running restaurant on the oldest street in Minneapolis.” But then Pracna closed in 2015 after 41 years, and after briefly reopening under new ownership, the historic space sat empty for years, until this June.
I mention the Main Cinema because Lonely’s is so obviously the place to go before or after seeing a movie next door. Moviegoers are always standing around under the Main’s marquee to discuss what they just watched after their movie gets out—now, Lonely’s snug booths and barstools beckon you to pop in and debate the movie’s merits over a $5 pint of Lonely’s Lager or bottle of High Life. Hell, a hallway connects the two venues.
But while you’ll definitely overhear other patrons discussing films, you’ll also overhear first dates, friend group drama, arguments about the Timberwolves—Lonely’s is an anytime, any occasion bar. The lighting is perfectly dim. I love the glass fixtures: milk glass sconces, fluted glass windows, cut glass chandeliers, stained glass above the front door. In a separate rear room, where the historic brick flooring and stone walls are exposed, there’s a pool table; they’re opening early on Sundays to show Vikings games. It’s classy, divey, cozy, chic. As a fellow south Minneapolitan pal said to me recently: “If I lived in Northeast, Lonely’s would be my bar.”
(I will caution that for many people, this is their bar: On Friday and Saturday nights, you’ll see a long line of folks out front ready to bop past a bouncer. For a more laid-back experience, Lonely’s is perhaps best experienced on weeknights.)
The menu lists just a handful of $15 classic cocktails—old fashioned, negroni, espresso martini, cosmopolitan, bootlegger—but your bartenders are working with a formidable alcohol selection and are able to whip up almost anything. (I do recommend the bootlegger, though, with gin.) The food is simple and cheap—Lonely’s is working with one of the smallest “kitchens” I’ve seen in a bar yet—and snacks like those pizza rolls and the green chile quesadilla ($9) come served on disposable paper trays, all the better to smuggle them into the theater with.
The Totino’s Pizza Rolls? They’re a nod to Totino's Italian Kitchen, the frozen pizza company’s original, shuttered Northeast restaurant. And more than that, they are, if you’ll permit me, a metaphor.
Like Totino's restaurant, Lonely’s feels classic and steeped in history, almost of another era. But like the frozen snack (which, yes, was actually invented in Duluth by Jeno Paulucci before being sold and rebranded by Pillsbury), it also feels timeless. And, as the weekend lines indicate, it’s very, very hot.
Lonely’s Bar
Address: 117 SE Main St.
Hours: 4 p.m. to 2 a.m. Monday to Thursday; 1 p.m. to 2 a.m. Friday to Sunday. (Opens at 11 a.m. for noon Vikings games on Sunday.)
This story has been updated to reflect that Pracna reopened under new ownership after closing in 2015.
