The Minnesota State Fair can be a culinary crapshoot, as we explored in this year's unenthusiastic new food review roundup. The fair can also wreak havoc on your wallet, as we explored in this week's fairgoing Money Journal.
Yet refuge from disappointing food and ridiculous prices can be found near the corner of Underwood Street and Dan Patch Avenue, just across from the Butterfly House, at the Midway Men's Club. Things haven't changed much there over 60+ years. Cheap burgers ($3.50-$5), expertly grilled up hot and fresh on a flat top. Ten varieties of no-nonsense beer ($5 small, $8 large), poured icy cold from the tap. And, through the decades, millions donated to youth orgs around Ramsey County.
"Beer is honestly where the money is made" says Marty Marrone, president of the Midway Men's Club. "We've got the cheapest beer and the cheapest burgers. We just made a sizable investment to our tap lines and grill."
Let's get a few important Midway Men's Clubs details out of the way...
Since the '70s, women have been welcome as members in the Midway Men's Club; Marrone notes that he's the nonprofit's lone male board officer. MMC doesn't just support youth sports; Marrone says recent beneficiaries include robotics teams, theater troupes, AV clubs, and scouts. And those burgers? They're actually quite good, and not just because a double with grilled onions and cheese runs you $5.
The formula features zero cheffy abracadabra.
"Good meat, good cheese, good bun," Marrone says.
The burgs are a favorite among the meat/cheese connoisseurs over at MSP Burgers, reliably scoring the top rec for burgers at the fair. Here's dearly missed Strib food critic Rick Nelson rhapsodizing about 'em (within context) in 2013.
Is it a remarkable burger? No. The modestly-scaled patties come right out of a freezer truck, and they're grilled on a flat-top stove, with little—ok, no—embellishment. Plain is the most generous way to describe the bun. This is a zero-frills burger best experienced by leaning heavy on the (free) condiments: plenty of grilled onions, a few layers of pickles and lots of ketchup and mustard. A gooey slice of American cheese helps, too. But each paper-wrapped burger is hot, filling and astonishingly affordable. What they recall, more than anything else, are the low-budget burgers that my parents used to pick up by the bag on Friday nights when I was a kid in the early 1970s, stopping at the nearby McDonald's on their way home from work. Since the state fair experience is soaked in nostalgia, this flashback burger fits right in.
In the early 1960s, the Midway Men's Club came about when, "drawn to the promise of beer," a men's group inside St. Columba Catholic Church effectively bought out the Snelling Commercial Club, reports PiPresser Fred Melo. The State Fair stand, whose beer arrives certified cold and whose fans included Kirby Puckett, operates as the club's only real public-facing incarnation each year. That means minimal responsibilities for its 275ish dues-paying members, though each one is expected to log a volunteer shift at the fair, where the group has set up shop for 51 years. (Lifetime memberships are available to anyone over 21 for just $15.)
Marrone says it requires 440 volunteers to run the stand each fair, and three paid managers to keep things humming along. Before the fair collects its fees, licensing, and percentages, and Midway Men's Club covers its overhead, the stand makes around $600,000 per fair, Marrone says, adding that "most of that profit goes toward youth organizations."
"When you're a member, you get into the fair, you get a T-shirt, you're invited to the fairworkers party we throw for everyone who works the stand, plus the spring dinner and one summer event—not bad for $15," Marrone says. He's interested in the club exploring year-round opportunities, like working non-fair Grandstand events and, maybe one day, launching a food truck.
But, for now, Marrone is focused on his crew powering through one final burger-flipping, pint-filling marathon as Labor Day weekend approaches.
"It's all about consistency. When you go to the Men's Club, you know what you're getting—there are no surprises," he says with a chuckle. "It's Americana, and people have really stepped up over the years as volunteers, because they know it's going to a great cause."
