One of my favorite restaurants is a subversive-looking little joint in Minneapolis called Hard Times Cafe. Collectively owned, the place is open nearly all night and offers an unapologetically vegan and vegetarian menu, as well as some really delicious coffee. Hard Times has a personality that’s simultaneously welcoming and a little scary. The interior is casual and grungy— you feel perfectly at ease dumping your stuff in a booth and lounging around like it’s your own living room, just redone with more feral houseplants and anarchist graffiti. When one hears of a vegetarian restaurant, you typically expect little portions of artisan salads followed by raw deserts and herbal tea eaten at sleek tables by couples in Tevas who smell of patchouli, not nihilism and a casual refusal to fit into any recognizable mold, culinary or otherwise.

You’ll see
college students there, and people who look homeless, and others who look like
they’ve done a lot of acid and are going to do a lot more in the future, and
even the occasional trifecta of these things. My point is, Hard Times draws a mixed crowd, and vegetarianism isn’t exactly their selling point
as a business. Awesome is their selling point. Awesome, and fantastic food, and not really caring
about what you or Minneapolis or anyone else thinks. Being Hard Times.