Numb Butts, Unitards, and Being on the Wrong Side of 35…a Restaurant Review.

Now that I have your brain spinning trying to figure out the commonality between those 3 diverse concepts…let me give you a clue…the new “The Inn” restaurant in Downtown Minneapolis.

Weather usually doesn’t affect my choice of a restaurant ….but the relentless frigid temps in Minnesota turn even the hardiest northlander  into a snow bunny coward…so a friend and I changed our reservation from Heartland in St Paul to the across the street convenience of the newly opened The Inn in Minneapolis.  Jack Frost conditions made the Inn seem warm and cozy…but I am finding my thoughts frozen regarding the experience.

I hurtled ice mounds and scuttled for the door…very appreciative of the warmth preserving double entry…and came into an intimate brick walled room that I fondly remember as “Le Peep” from years ago, then Hell’s Kitchen, and just recently as “Subo.”  It was half-full except at the bar…but I like to sit at the bar to get more of the “flavor” of a new restaurant.  Plus, at The Inn, you either sit at tables in the frozen street window section or perch at tall tables (hence the butt and leg numbing as the too tall stools cut off all circulation) opposite the bar…neither of which looked like good options that night.  (Actually, there is a small bland back room…but the people watching is MUCH better out front!)

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My friend and I had already solicited opinions from friends who had already tried the Inn…both raved about the food….though one did defer that the portions were smaller.  But I am fine with smaller….that means I can try more plates and not feel guilty or over full!  A win/win situation!  (I do avoid going back to restaurants that serve MINISCULE portions….i.e. Piccolo.  But I adore The Sample Room!)

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So back to the review:

The menu is small…but covers some unusual ground…just not sure about meeting expectations.  Sigh.

We chose the fresh baked cloverleaf roll with butter and marmalade as one of our starters.  The roll had a joyous yeasty sweetness when I pulled it apart…heaven to the nose!  Memories came flooding back of my Grandmother Ruth’s kitchen when she was baking bread….the alluring tangy scent of yeast baking was discernable from 30 feet outside the house and caused a ravenous horde of children to noisily crowd in looking for “just a sample, Grandma!” Rather a novel appetizer…very appealing to this farm-grounded foodie.  Until………

The marmalade was…colorful at best…and at the worst….runny.  Such a disappointment…we both tried to get it stay on the roll…but I felt more like I was eating that bizarre preserved fruit from fruitcakes.

The second plate was a default…we wanted the fromage on the menu…but it was “no longer in the kitchen.”  Hmmmm.  Did it leave with the fork and the spoon?

So we had the alternative cheese option.  Spanish Mahon grilled cheese mini triangles presented with a sweet/sour dark cherry dry confit and a tousled pile of assorted greens with a glisten of tangy dressing.  A pure winner in my book…each a single bite of melty, buttery goodness off-set by the fruity tang of the confit and the pleasant bitterness of the greens.

I also selected the roasted brussel sprouts…winner, winner, chicken dinner!  Pan roasted in olive oil until darkened and sweet alongside toasted pine nuts and, I believe, green onion.  Didn’t really pause to sort it out…it was THAT good!  (Would have ranked a perfect…except it was weirdly served lukewarm.)

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Now to end the suspense on the second word…unitard.  Remember I said the people watching was best where we were sitting?  At the table directly behind us, sat a bearded gentleman (?) in a full one piece Spandex biking unitard!!!  Including the attached hood…which he kept UP during the entire time!  His dinner companion was Bunyon-esque…flannel shirt, bib overalls, knit cap, and waffle soled hiking boots. 

Only in Minnesota. 

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My entrée was the grass fed beef rib eye with Roquefort butter.  I ordered medium rare…it arrived medium…no pink.  The Roquefort butter was butter with a few salty blue cheese (note the distinction) crumbles stirred in…okay flavor…but not the creamy mélange it could have been.  A poor partner to a decent rib eye. 

My friend had the grass fed beef burger without the bun…too many carbs already…but with Swiss cheese melted on top.  There weren’t too many “ummms” on her part…but we both cleaned our plates.  (More due to fortifying ourselves against the slicing wind and painful temps we had to endure to get back to our cars.)

I needed a sweet ending to an otherwise so-so meal…thank heavens the chefs at “The Inn” bow to the superior dessert skill of Michelle Gayer of “The Salty Tart.” (She is a 2010 James Beard Foundation awards "Outstanding Pastry Chef" nominee.) With an eye towards the calories already consumed…we decided to share her decadent “Sticky Toffee Pudding.”  Succulent and warm, the moist crumbs barely held together by a decidedly smooth, well browned toffee sauce with a surprising crunch of sea salt ribboned into it.  Add a smooth scoop of rich vanilla ice cream spreading like river of melted velvet lapping the cake…I am certain I heard harps playing!!   We took forks to this indulgence…slowly at first…and then with avid attention to achieving both toffee and ice cream in each bite. 

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Lastly….being the wrong side of 35.  The majority of the wait staff…including the craftsmen behind the bar…cannot be more than 30.  It shows in their interaction with their clients…and in their over-heard conversations amongst themselves.  We, being in the non-under 35 group…had to initiate conversations regarding the menu…actually saying “Excuse me.  Excuse me,” more often that we should.  But the scantily dressed girls seated to our left received copious amounts of attention from all the servers and the 2 chefs back in the kitchen…DESPITE their miserly shared drinks (really?), single shared appetiser and then another shared drink.  We, on the other hand, were well past the $100 mark …well dressed and recognized by more than one fellow diner…wanting to connect with the restaurant.  But the kicker was when a young man (who all the servers obviously knew…given their greetings) came in and sat to our right.  The open-to-all discussion centered around another professional at the Graves…actually at Craftsman…who was only mixing “popsicle drinks”…and really wasn’t that great…for a full 5 minutes.  Lovely….trashing another professional…within range of all.  Shabby.

I have debated writing this review for several weeks…trying to explain away the inconsistancies…citing the weather…wanting to give The Inn a heartfelt “Yah!”  But, truthfully, I cannot.  Not when there are chefs like Jack at the Dakota, Vincent at Vincent’s and Isaac at 112 Eatery…not when there are friendly waitpersons like those at Mission, Barrio and the Local…

Moscow on the Hill...the Gem of Selby and Western.

Wow...wow...wow.  A marvelous leisurely dinner at Moscow on the Hill in St Paul with good friends...again.  Russian food...both peasant and royal...served attentively and warmly. Personally...Moscow ranks as one of my top 5 favorite restaurants in the Twin Cities.  And yet...it consistently is ignored by MSP Mag and the Strib critics. Are they such snobs that they think the only "great" kitchen has a chef with a "name?"

Grab a group of friends...pick those who LIKE to converse and talk while leisurely dining...not those in a marathon to be out the door in 1/2 an hour...pick those who LIKE to share...and go to Moscow.  Enjoy a true Russian meal...

We started the evening as the Russians do...hot and cold appetisers to awaken your appetite.

Assorted savory platter to start (chef changes it daily):  A mounded beet salad perfectly tops a piece of their dark bread.  Chicken liver pate...here I have to take my friends' description..."luxuriously silken on the tongue."  Crisp/crunchy sweet pickles.  Russian style herring (not Grandma's chewy stuff from the jar!) melts in your mouth.  Chicken blini filled with chopped braised chicken, herbs and a tart cheese topped by a sour cream that is reminiscent of creme fraiche, not Old Home.  Pickled vegetables were unusual...piquant, sweet and refreshing.  And of course we have to order a separate side of my favorite, Mushrooms Julienne (rich and creamy, herby with plenteous bubbly cheese) on the side.  And the basket of bread slices to soak up all the juices!

I had Chicken Kolobok...tender breast of chicken stuffed with wild rice, fruits and nuts. The size of a softball ... skin crispy and brown...glazed by a sauce of fruit, honey and herbs (do I taste figs?)... enough to sop each tender morsel of chicken.  Roasted veggies.

I was treated to a couple bites of Beef Stroganoff...and after my girl friend's husband saw my covetous glaze...he slowly slid his plate away from my reach!  Really...I did contemplate a fork war with him...the stroganoff was that GOOD.  Generous strips of tender, simmered beef, rich mushroom gravy/sauce on wide noodles.  Tangy sour cream and herbs dressed the serving...which WAS big enough to share!

Dessert was the homemade chocolate truffles...sigh. Two, each the size of a large marshmallow, on a Belgian chocolate drizzled and dusted plate...I can't do them justice!

Okay, I am going to try to describe the truffles.  The merest molecule ... once in your mouth ... has EVERY taste bud screaming and fighting to experience all the truffle they can.  They are rich, calorie laden ... and I DO NOT CARE!  The density is incredible, not waxen, slow to melt, pure Belgian chocolate.  You have to fight yourself to eat slowly, wanting to inhale greedily, yet desiring the moment to last!  What is a girl to do?

And for a leisurely end...piping hot Russian style tea served in glasses with holders and a bowl of homemade jam.  You take a small bit of jam in the bowl of your spoon...lower it into the steaming tea...let it melt...scoop up a little tea with the now melted jam...bring to your lips and slurp! 

Moscow on the Hill...honest Russian food to share...good friends to enjoy...it doesn't get better.

Na Zdorovie!

Note to Self...Do Not Break Personal Foodie Rules...With Good Reason!

When I started this blog, my sister asked me if, when I reviewed restaurants, would I "talk about the bad as well as the good?"  I think the following answers that question. 

It's a sad, but true tale I have to relate to my foodie friends...I broke my cardinal rule...I bought takeout at place I'd never been before...and I paid the price. I was rushing home to my pup...who had been alone all day...so I thought "Hmmmm, I've seen a busy parking lot at Asia (on Central in Columbia Hgts) several times. How bad can it be?" All those cars can't be wrong! 

Where do I start?

Limp, grease sodden, more cabbage than the stated "pork and shrimp" egg roll...think akin to generic canned dog food! Cream cheese puffs...chewy, tepid and blah at best...gummy, old oil tasting at worst. And the Sweet & Sour Pork...pork, pah! Mystery meat.  Army C rations would be preferable.  The sauce (?) had pale pink lumps masquerading as tomatoes...bullet-like green peppers and 3 canned pineapple bits in neon pink paste. Yum.

The pork fried rice was the color of scorched earth after a fire...randomly deep brown with unknown additions. Shudder. I'm not guessing. The compost pile will have a workout the next few days. So, I've learned my lesson. And hopefully saved my friends! At ALL cost...avoid "Asia" on Central. You have been warned!

Note:  Asia's parking lot is still busy on a regular basis when I drive by.  I'm beginning to think it is over-flow lot for Walgreens across the street.  That many people cannot be willingly eating (?) at Asia...really.

Food Memories...or How I Felt 12 Again!

This review was from 6 months ago...but the pizza stays memorable!  And it is still true...I feel like I am 12 again and waiting for a molten slice of pizza from Mom's oven each and every time I walk into Village Pizza.  Gotta love those food memories! 

Enjoy this brief review...(hey when it's right...it doesn't need to be long!)

Honestly...last night I had one of the best pizzas...not at "HOT" spot touted by Andrew or MSP Mag!  But at a simple Mom/Pop on 7th Ave E in N St Paul, called Village Pizza.  It looks like a small town joint from 40 years ago...linoleum floors and formica booths...mis-matched metal chairs with naugahyde...and a decidedly casual ordering system.  Someone might come out and inquire as to what you'd like...but you'll get your pizza quicker if you go to the tiny counter in the back and order.  (I always take advantage here to order mine "crispy"!) 

But WOW! The "special" large was perfection. Crunchy, toasty, hand formed crust, bubbling molten normal cheese in strands that burn your lips, spicy sweet bites of sausage and a perfect smear of red sauce. MMMMM. That and a frothy sweet root beer made me feel 12 again!

Bar La Grassa...reservations are necessary...for good reason!

I wrote the following review early last spring after a wonderful evening with friends at Bar La Grassa.  I have since returned several times...mostly with great joy and satisfied expectations.  Please go and experience for yourself...

Bar La Grassa...go. GO NOW...but select carefully. The Pappardelle with Veal Ragu was divine. Fresh noodles softly tumbled like heavy satin hair ribbons with a glazing of sauce hugging their wide shoulders. Veal, tender and succulent, reaches for your fork! No wonder pappardelle means "to gobble up!" Braised kale......my favorite winter vegetable...al dente...tossed with crisplets of meat and crumbles of ricotta!

La Grassa has Bagna Cauda! A peasant's dish of cauliflower, sliced in slabs, bathed in a redolent mixture of hot olive oil, garlic cloves & salt dried anchovy filets (at least that is how I know it). Then finished in a hot oven until smoky and golden! Someone was channeling Craig Claiborne from the 1960's! I am ecstatic to have a chef in this town who "gets" the simplicity and honesty of peasant food. Thank you.

The cons of Bar La Grassa....salt. The penne with shrimp was incredibly salty, as was the crab ravioli. Which was a pity since I'm sure the light sauces (minus the salt) would have been marvelous. Gratefully, the waitstaff kept the water glasses full.

I'm definitely keeping La Grassa on my recommend list...with just a few caveats. I plan on going back to try the Beet with Avocado and Citrus, and the Silk Handkerchiefs with Pesto! It goes with out saying the the Bagna Cauda will be on the table!

(An amusing aside, "La Grassa" means "the fat" in Italian...so Bar La Grassa means "The Fat Bar"!)

The Dakota...it is more than just great jazz

I have decided to start my blog with a few of my past restaurant reviews from my Facebook account that my friends found helpfully "tasty"! Hope you will enjoy the same experience.

We have a world-class chef in Jack Riebel at the Dakota Jazz. His menu intrigues, tempts and satisfies the soul. I had a beguiling dinner there last Thursday with a friend. I am normally rather loquacious ... his artistry deserves my silence ... broken by my mmmms. Jalapeno poppers, Walleye cakes, Caribbean Spiced Prime Rib of Pork and a heavenly Smoked Dark Chocolate Cake.

Jalapeno poppers...one thinks of breaded grease & slimy limp peppers stuffed with?? Well...Jack's are smoky, intense morsels roasted & stuffed with creamy Fontina, wrapped in crisps of Speck ham, drizzled with zippy chipolte cream in counterpoint to his perfectly fresh pico de gallo. The faint fire of the jalapeno plays a marvelous bottom note to the smoke of the ham & the tang of the sauces. Worth the trip alone!

Walleye cakes...I've had them elsewhere...and my first impulse was to avoid. But I decided to try...wished I had been eating at home so I could have cleaned the plate! 3 little cakes...not fishy...glossed with ancho chili tartar sauce and colorful tortilla slaw. Firm, not pasty. Jack handles fish with a deft and gentle touch! A little fire...big on taste!

Caribbean Spiced Prime Rib of Pork---WOW! Smoky, meaty pork served with a light black bean rice cake frosted by habenero banana salsa. (Highly addictive!) The plate is decorated by dabs of diabolo sauce around the edges; allowing the diner to pull in as much intesity as they desire. (This is a big serving...the guys should love it! No "why bother" small bites here!)

Finally...dessert. Smoked Dark Chocolate Cake. A dark, not sweet, intense cake with an interior more akin to a moist pudding. The cake has a fragrant froth/foam of Earl Grey and whipped cream along side. Crunchy, salty pecan praline bits beg to be eaten alone...but all together it is heaven on a fork! All floating on a port reduction. Thank you..thank you ... thank you. Head to the Dakota .... I highly recommend it.