Forty strangers partake in a three-hour, chef-driven meal in an unforeseen area: a gasoline station in a Twin Cities suburban area.
I’m seated between the racks holding beef jerky and Tylenol Extra Strength, looking at a bed of rice topped with a buttermilk-fried quail garnished with an orchid petal. We’re gathered around common tables inside a BP filling station in the Twin Cities suburb of Eagan, excited to dig in.
Night at the Gas Station, a pop-up five-course meal with nonalcoholic beverage pairings, was thought up by Guatemalan chef Cristian De Leon and his team. They run El Sazon Tacos and More out of the BP’s tiny cooking area. It’s an area matched for prepping convenience store sandwiches– not glasses of purple horchata or slices of cornbread with jalapeño jam, charred cheese and watercress.
Cristian has more than twenty years of restaurant experience, in numerous foods. Throughout the pandemic, he reconnected with his roots through house cooking along with his Mexican spouse, Karen De Leon. A pal tipped them off to the vacancy at the gas station, and the cost was right. Now El Sazon draws regulars for birria tacos, carnitas burritos and– if you can score a seat– the full-on feast.
At the start of each course, Karen calls a service bell to get our attention. Cristian then shares his motivation for what we’re about to take pleasure in. A plate of ribeye and bone marrow is what Karen’s mom served Cristian the very first time he discussed for dinner. “I was 20, and she was 17,” Cristian says, to a fast elbow push and a “Don’t state that part!” from Karen. The location emerges.
That sense of personal connection is contagious, flowing from the team to the visitors. In a venue where the common routine is fill, pay and go, we’ve savored, lingered and discovered commonalities. By the last bites of the sweet tamale cake served with fairy floss and rum raisin ice cream, new friends have actually shared bucket-list travel destinations, followed each other on social channels and in one case, purchased tickets to a fellow diner’s jazz performance the next day.
As soon as the black tablecloths are stashed away and the snack displays shifted back into location, the gasoline station resumes. Folks pop in for potato chips and lottery tickets. On the other hand, the luckiest ones are headed house, tanks and hearts full.
