Saint Paul, Minnesota: The Capital City That Minneapolis Keeps Forgetting to Mention

Let's get one thing straight before we start: Saint Paul is not Minneapolis's boring little sibling. It's the capital. Minneapolis may have the glass towers and the Prince mythology, but Saint Paul has the actual government, the actual cathedral, and a chip on its shoulder roughly the size of the Mississippi River. This is a love letter written in roast form, so grab a hotdish and settle in.

Saint Paul, Minnesota: The Other Twin (Who Does the Paperwork)

Saint Paul is the capital city of Minnesota and the county seat of Ramsey County. It's also home to a lot of people for a town supposedly nobody can find. That makes it the 2nd largest city in Minnesota. Silver medal, baby. Very on brand.

The "irrelevant sibling" jab doesn't hold up against the numbers. In 1860 Saint Paul had 10,401 people. By 1890 it had 133,156. The city's peak came in 1960, when its population was 313,411. These days it sits comfortably around the 300,000 mark, which is a polite way of saying it has been dipping and rebounding with remarkable stubbornness for 65 years.

Even the roast about the tourism board ghosting a reporter feels dated. That's not irrelevance, that's commitment.

Hotdish, State Fair Sticks, and Other Acts of Culinary Defiance

Yes, hotdish exists. Yes, cream of mushroom soup is load-bearing infrastructure in a Minnesota kitchen. And yes, the Minnesota State Fair, which sits in the Saint Paul neighborhood of Falcon Heights, will put approximately everything on a stick. The roast cards aren't wrong, but they're missing the point: a casserole that has survived since the Depression has better job security than most local politicians.

Saint Paul's food scene has grown well past the casserole dish. The Hmong community has made the city a destination for authentic Hmong food, and the HmongTown Marketplace on University Avenue is a local institution. For craft beer fans, the news is better: Summit Brewing Company is a St. Paul staple. Pour one out, preferably a Summit EPA, while supplies last.

Minnesota Nice, Winter Carnival, and the Art of Suffering Politely

The roast calls Minnesota Nice weaponized. Fair. Saint Paulites will absolutely say "that's different" about your outfit and then offer you a ride home. It's a defense system, like a porcupine, but with casseroles.

This politeness is tested by the weather, and the city's answer is to celebrate it. The Saint Paul Winter Carnival, which dates back to the 1880s, was famously launched to counter a New York reporter's claim that Saint Paul was "another Siberia." The city responded by building ice palaces. That is a very Saint Paul move: get insulted, then respond with a frozen castle.

The city has also been a home for writers and wanderers, with F. Scott Fitzgerald among its most famous former residents, and its Summit Avenue boasts some of the best-preserved Victorian mansions in the country. Walk it in any season and you'll feel underdressed.

Vikings Heartbreak and the Current State of Things

The roast says Saint Paul bleeds purple and gold for a team that breaks hearts with mathematical precision. Technically the Vikings play in Minneapolis, but Saint Paul fans suffer just as loudly. We won't spoil how it went. You already know.

Meanwhile, the city has plenty going on off the field. Mayor Kaohly Her has a full plate, including the planned Minnesota Latino Museum at Harriet Island Regional Park.

There's good news on the education front too. And in the "only in Saint Paul" file, because even the thieves here have good taste in local heroes.

The Verdict

Saint Paul isn't Minneapolis's sidekick. It's the grown-up in the room: older, grumpier, better at brick buildings, and quietly proud of it. It has a cathedral on a hill, a river running through it, a casserole tradition it will defend to the death, and a winter festival built entirely on spite.

Visit for the history, stay for the hotdish, and never, ever call it a suburb of Minneapolis. They'll smile politely and tell you it's "interesting."

Think we were too nice? See the full roast on RoastMyTown.com.