everett's

everett's market is on 38th street in south minneapolis and i had driven by there 1000 times before last spring. i only stopped in after kevin served a perfect lamb roast on easter sunday and where did you get that roast, darling?

"everett's. they are the best. haven't you ever been there?"

mr. everett grew up a block away from this shiney piece of heaven, and he never imagined that after 49 years there he would be creating an iconic legacy in the same hood wear he played stickball and snuck smokes behind his dad's garage. the same block that waited for him to come home from the war and raise a family and open a market.

the best thing about everett's beside the green and white linolem floor is the meat counter. usually there are 12 hansome butchers of all ages in white paper hats and string tied aprons and they can't do enough to tell you how glad they are to see you, and if you don't see what you want let them know and they'll fix you right up. they stand at the ready and seem like royalty to me.

the meat case is a mile long, squeaky clean and sparkling. at the west end there are luscious mounds of everything sausage: polish, italian, bratworst, coarse and fine wieners, spicy, sweet and smoked...links and links of perfect piles of all things plump, fresh and pink. the cold cuts are next -- olive loaf - the kind mom used to serve at picnics and open houses. salami, bologna, turkey, roast beef, sliced fresh ham (three kinds). cheese cheese and cheese comes next, and then containers full of fresh potato salad, ham spread, and baked beans. moving east are the roasts and ribs and chops and chickens. a continuem of hearty goodness from end to end, no preservatives, carved, chopped, sliced and wrapped with love. in white paper with masking tape of course.

aside from the meat counter all necessities are on hand. fresh produce, soy milk, sweet martha's cookies, frozen white fish, pet supplies, even wasabi sauce, capers and olives. everything you need, really, all under one small roof called everett's.

it's the kind of place that makes you feel good just being there. a little family dream that came true and is solid, strong, and sincere. two weeks ago i got chatting at the checkout about the terrible loss of tim russert, and said "what will i do on sunday mornings from now on?"

one of the hansome butchers who had come out to help bag looked at me with deep brown eyes and answered simply "go to church".

recently mr. everett and his little market were featured in two twin cities magazines and if you ask him about that he smiles from ear to ear.

"only took 49 years for this place to be discovered", he says with his hands on his hips.

that's a matter of opinion, sir.

by the way, we're having ribs for supper tonight. st. louis style. and homemade baked beans.