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01-09-02
A solid, singular option for Cambodian cuisine

01-02-02
A place to share, but make it quick

by Bruce Schneier and Karen Cooper
It's pronounced “TAH-pas”—please make the standard joke yourselves. Tapas are Spanish bar food: small plates of morsels meant for sharing. In Spain, no one eats dinner before ten, so tapas fill the gap in the day between siesta and supper; we're happy to while away the late afternoon with friends, a glass of wine, and snacks. Here in the United States, tapas are a dinner option. Of course, American tapas bars serve alcohol, but the tapas are the star.
La Bodega serves 51 different tapas. There’s no easy way to tell which dishes are served hot and which cold, so putting together a good mix of tidbits is unreasonably risky. Clunkers arrive far too often to make the exercise as much fun as it ought to be. And for some reason, there are more Italian dishes on the menu than we expected.
La Bodega serves some really good tapas. We loved the sautéed green beans with olive oil, garlic, and black pepper. The beans were served fresh and hot, and the oil was fabulous to dip bread in. The fried cheese in tomato sauce was a perfect little snack. We liked the very flavorful marinated smelt, served cold with anchovies and caper. We also recommend the grilled garlic prawns and the langostinas a la plancha: both easy to eat and delicious.
Other dishes were forgettable. There was nothing actively wrong with the sautéed clams in olive oil, garlic, and white wine, but there was nothing to recommend it, either. Better the waiter should bring a pool of the sauce to dip bread in. The broiled quail was good, but its sophisticated gentle flavor was sucker-punched by the pickled onion garnish served with it.
And then there are the clunkers. The sautéed asparagus with Castellano cheese was served cold, tasted canned, and the flavors didn't work together at all. The meatballs arrived with parmesan cheese, parsley, and tomato sauce as advertised, but had less flavor than we imagined possible. Same with the sliced boiled egg with garlic and parsley; what arrived was what was promised, but nothing special. The smoked tuna carpaccio was similarly flavorless. And don't order the gazpacho. Just don't.
We had high hopes for the squid, stuffed with bread crumbs, pine nuts, and raisins. We stared at it, we poked at it, we tasted it. Finally, we understood: it was stuffed with crumbs like the ones we clean out of our toaster. And the cold white asparagus in olive oil vinaigrette tasted (again) canned, and was even worse than the hot version. And the breaded and fried fennel tasted like mealy onion rings.
Potato dishes were mixed. Near as we could tell, there's a single vat of mediocre chunked potatoes in the kitchen, waiting for whatever sauce the patrons order. However, when covered in garlic and mustard aïoli, they're quite good. Served with lomito—the roast pork tenderloin—they were less good; the whole dish tasted like leftovers. The cold octopus salad with potatoes and pimentos was okay, but nothing to come back for.
Four to six people is ideal for La Bodega, because you want to share dishes. Order them in waves, two or three at a time. But watch your wallets, because the portions are tiny and the prices don't reflect that. The meatballs cost $5.95 and come three to an order, whereas the grilled prawns come two to an order at $7.50. And those sautéed asparagus with cheese that we disliked so much: four pieces for $7.25.
It adds up quickly. On one visit, four of us ordered eighteen tapas at $43 per person. The moral here is not to let your eyes get bigger than your stomach. Order your tapas a few at a time, and stop ordering when you're full. Three or four dishes per person is more than enough for dinner, and you won't get stuck with an unreasonable and surprising bill.
The other trick is to visit La Bodega in the traditional way, for drinks and a snack. It's a bright and lively restaurant for that kind of thing. We liked the vivid yellows and blues, and thought the chairs were quite European. The wine list is interesting and inexpensive, and it's a great place to relax with friends for a bit. Service is friendly, and no one rushes you. In the summer, sit outside and take in the Lyn-Lake scene.
Years ago, when Bruce lived in Chicago, one of our favorite Chicago restaurants was Emilio's Tapas Bar. Their bacon wrapped dates are the stuff of dreams. Our ability to negotiate sharing a plate of five pieces is what gave us the confidence to move in together and get married. La Bodega isn't up to this level, but it can be a fun place to stop for a drink and a snack.

12-26-01
Treat yourself well at the Oceanaire
Oceanaire Hyatt Regency Minneapolis
1300 Nicollet Mall, Minneapolis
(612) 333-2277

The Oceanaire Seafood Room is the best seafood restaurant in the Twin Cities. Its owners spare little expense: flying fresh fish in daily from around the world, building a 33-degree fish cleaning and holding room on premises, hiring chefs who know how to do fish right.
The restaurant is in the downtown Hyatt Hotel, on the second floor. It is a nice room, in that 90s marketing version of Art Deco sort of way. They have a large liquor bar, a raw bar, and a vast expanse of table seating. An inoffensive 90s mix of Big Band music plays on the speaker system. It's crowded but not too loud, and a nice place to be.
Like the dining room, the kitchen is suave and sophisticated. At least, in everything except the coleslaw. The menu is entirely à la carte-order the tuna and that's what you get: tuna. You get bread and a relish tray upfront, but the entrées are not accompanied by salad, veggies, potatoes, or anything else.
The menu changes daily, and features whatever fish they can fly in fresh. There are traditional preparations-broiled and grilled fish, shrimp scampi, whole lobsters, crab cakes-and there are more exotic creations by the chef. Our advice is simple: order what you want. It's all good. The simple preparations are all delicious. As long as the fish is fresh, which it always is, it's pretty much impossible to go wrong here. On our most recent trip they had Icelandic arctic char, Florida "Lemon Fish," Hawaiian "Monchong," Icelandic salmon, Red Sea bream, Maine sea scallops, Maryland soft-shell crabs, George's Bank haddock, live Maine lobster, ahi tuna, Canadian bluefin tuna, Florida "red mind," Alaskan halibut, North Atlantic cod, Hawaiian kajiki, American red snapper, Pacific great sole, ivory king salmon, Chilean seabass, Pacific swordfish, and Florida mahi-mahi. Your list will be different. If they have it and you like it, order it.
There are also more complicated dishes. We've had some of them, and have uniformly been pleased. The pan-seared Chilean seabass with bacon-wilted spinach and horseradish brown butter was delicious. The grilled yellowfin tuna with a red wine reduction and shiitake and portobello mushrooms was just as good. If you like a variety of fried foods (we don't), order the Fisherman's Platter. If you haven't been to the Chesapeake recently and they have it in stock, order the soft shell crabs. Or the crab cakes (you can order one as an appetizer, too).
The service is uniformly good. The entire staff is efficient, friendly, and very professional. We never got the slightest impression that anyone there was doing us a great favor by serving us, an attitude we encounter too frequently in high-end restaurants. We've also shown up with (how should we put it?) difficult parties, in the face of which the staff has shown amazing fortitude. We know what difficult customers can be like, and we applaud.
The Oceanaire is an expensive restaurant. Dinner can easily cost $50 a person by the time you add everything up, more if you order the baked Alaska. But it's the best seafood in Minneapolis, and worth it as a splurge.

12-05-01
Taleeh meets the local cravings
by Bruce Schneier and Karen Cooper
Thirty thousand Somalis have come to live in Minneapolis area in the past few years, so our hopes rose for some interesting restaurants serving Somali food. One such is Taleeh Restaurant. It’s the exact experience we craved: new immigrants cooking food like back home in a nothing of a restaurant, for really cheap.
It’s also the only restaurant we’ve ever eaten in that has separate dining rooms for men and women. When we walked in the first time, we caused a bit of consternation, but we were eventually seated in the women’s dining room. (Bruce discreetly sat facing the wall so as not to unduly upset anyone.) During that visit there were quite a few customers, but no other mixed-gender groups. On a subsequent visit, when Bruce went with a male friend, a single mixed group ate in the women’s dining room. It’s a custom utterly unlike anything we are used to, but we’ve learned it goes a long way to be respectful and considerate of a foreign culture.
The restaurant has negative décor. It’s a nondescript storefront with a fresh coat of paint, some tables and chairs scattered throughout, and a kitchen in the back. You enter through the men’s side. The lights are bright, and the walls are bare. A painted sign on the window advertises gyros; we thought this was a relic from a previous owner until we saw gyros on the menu. Also a steak sandwich. Also carrot cake.
But ignore all of that and order the Somali entrees. It’s all meat—chicken, beef, lamb—and very tasty. If you’re familiar with Ethiopian food, you’ll recognize many of the spices, and you’ll notice that this food is presented with much less sauce.
The busteeki is thinly sliced dried beef, cooked with onions, green pepper, and a spicy sauce. Dried beef is a Somali staple—a bit tougher than we are used to but nothing as bad as jerky—and the preparation made it very tasty.
Taleeh restaurant might not be pretty, but where else can you have that good a meal for $8—including the tip—with a little foreign culture thrown in for free?

11-28-01
Nice atmosphere, great Italian food
by Bruce Schneier and Karen Cooper
Italian restaurant in the Twin Cities so empty for dinner? Is it the downtown St. Paul location? Is it the intimidating Italian language on the menu? Do people think they need a reservation? It certainly can’t be the wonderful food, the romantic atmosphere, or the friendly service. Frankly, we’re puzzled.
Trattoria da Vinci is in a cavernous space on the first floor of the Park Square Court office building. It’s sort of a faux post-World War I décor: exposed blonde brick walls, fake marble columns, replicas of Leonardo da Vinci ornithopters hanging from the ceiling, a large bar area in the corner. The lighting is subdued, and the candlelit tables are nicely set. There’s live music most nights. It’s too loud for us, but it fits the mood nicely.
This is not the Italian food Karen grew up with. At the restaurants she ate at, you’d find a lot of Italian dishes all made from the same old tomato sauce. Here, everything tastes different, unique, special, and fabulous.
This is real Italian cooking. The dishes are best passed around the table and shared, talked and lingered over, and served with wine. The wine list is short and sweet but full of very reasonable wines. You’d think there’d be lines of people waiting for a table.
The menu is broken up into four sections: antipastos, salads, pastas and entrees. If you want to order every course, you’re going to have to share. Even a salad and an entrée per person is too much food.
For the antipastos, we recommend everything. The deep fried seafood has scallops, shrimp, and squid, as well as carrots and zucchini. It’s crunchy and flavorful but not greasy, and comes with an aïoli as a dip. The steamed clams and mussels are served in a hot, spicy garlic broth, and the dish comes with toast to sop up the extra. The raw beef carpaccio, marinated in lemon juice and olive oil, is delicious. The dish comes with a hefty salad garnish, too, so you could skip the salad course if you order this. Even better is the pacchetti, a combination of tomato, mozzarella, and basil wrapped in a cooked slice of eggplant and served in a tomato sauce. But the best appetizer is white cannellini beans and spicy sausage. The table quickly nicknamed it “beany wienies,” and it was passed around the most. The sage seasoning was unexpected and delightful.
All the salads are good, but three stand out. The spinach and garlic salad with gorgonzola dressing is intense and flavorful. The Tuscan salad—cucumber, tomato, and red onion—in a rich basil and oregano vinaigrette and served over toasted bread, is also full of flavor. The baby green salad with a mustard and vinaigrette dressing is light and lovely.
Pastas are uniformly delicious. Da Vinci makes a Bolognese sauce that is simply perfect: rich and meaty and full of tomato flavor and spices. The penne pasta is served with a tomato sauce of a completely different kind: tomatoes, mushrooms in a hot pepper sauce.
For yet a third tomato sauce, order the gnocci. The flavor is more purely tomato. You can also order the gnocci with gorgonzola sauce or pesto. The gorgonzola is the best, but it’s too rich to eat alone. We found it nice to alternate a bite of the gorgonzola gnocci with a bite of the tomato gnocci. It would be nice if the restaurant would offer a tri-color gnocci dish with small portions of each.
Another excellent pasta is the cannelloni: a delicious dish of crepes filled with meat and béchamel sauce. Best of all is the risotto, made with chicken, asparagus, portobellos, and saffron. Avoid the chicken ravioli; everything else is much better.
We hope you saved room for the meats and fishes. We strongly recommend the grilled lamb chops, tender as butter and heavily flavored with rosemary and garlic. The veal scaloppine is also delicious, as are the chicken and shrimp entrees.
And desserts. Who can eat dessert after all this food? If you can still eat, order anything from the dessert menu. Or sit around the table and talk for a couple of hours, and then order dessert.
All this sharing leads us to wonder: what do you do if you’re eating alone? Some of the dishes would be impossible: anything with gorgonzola, for example. It’s just too rich. We recommend some of the pastas: the cannelloni, the spicy penne, the risotto, or the Bolognese. Start with one of the seafood antipastos or a salad, and you’ve got a nice meal.
Trattoria da Vinci is also open for lunch, which is when they do their best business. They have a nice menu of dishes, and a pasta bar where you can select your own pasta, meat, vegetables, and sauces to be cooked for you. But we think this restaurant needs more dinner patrons. If you live in Minneapolis, consider this: it might be a longer drive to downtown St. Paul, but parking is a snap. And you won’t find Italian food like this in downtown Minneapolis.

10-24-01
Copeland’s stamps out New Orlean’s standards
by Bruce Schneier and Karen Cooper
The Nankin Chinese restaurant was a downtown Minneapolis landmark. The food wasn’t any good. Think boring American Chinese-like food: chow mein, fried rice, lo mein, egg foo yong...that sort of thing. Even the entrées pandered: sweet and sour chicken, beef with broccoli, BBQ duck, and that old vegetarian stand-by, Buddha’s Delight. It’s the sort of place where you got what we call “celery mush chow mein.”
A couple of years ago, the Nankin closed. According to Nankin’s attorney, the final slide was “the PR nightmare that ensued from a police raid.” It was a drug bust, and 19 people were arrested. The attorney hastened to point out that none of those 19 were Nankin employees or customers, which leaves us to wonder exactly what was going on there. Then they filed for bankruptcy, thereby avoiding a pending eviction notice, and that was that.
This June, Copeland’s of New Orleans opened in the same location. This is a restaurant of a different color. Nankin was a single restaurant. Copeland’s is a national chain. Nankin served dishes tested by time; Copeland’s serves dishes tested by focus groups. Chinese restaurants are a dime a dozen these days, and we all know how the food is supposed to taste. The Twin Cities doesn’t have Cajun restaurants, so most of us aren’t familiar with authentic Cajun tastes.
Where the food is concerned, maybe the two restaurants have too much in common. Copeland’s serves the celery mush equivalent of Louisiana cooking.
Take the crawfish étouffée. It had all the right ingredients, but was bland and flavorless. Even vast quantities of hot sauce couldn’t save it. The crab cakes didn’t have enough crab in them. The blackened redfish should have been heavily spiced, but was even blander. And the mashed potatoes that came with it were too heavily buttered.
The seafood platter was huge, although on closer inspection most of the bulk came from the bread and French fries. But if you like a pile of food—deep-fried oysters, shrimp, crawfish tails, crab cakes, catfish, onion rings, and corn fritters—this is for you.
Their shrimp and tasso macque choux was the weirdest dish we had. It’s a plate of cheese ravioli in cream sauce, with shrimp and spiced pork sausage and corn. It was a complete mess of flavors. The sausage overpowered everything, and the corn cream sauce masked the rest of the dish. What was the point of the ravioli? Or the shrimp? And why so much cream sauce?
Copeland’s shrimp and redfish Creole was better. Sure, it wasn’t as complexly flavored as it should be, but it was still tasty. The andouille sausage, red beans, and rice was a winner. And the jambalaya pasta, while thematically confused, was actually good. Here the spiced sausage worked, and the tomato sauce held up to the flavor. Even the shrimp added to this dish.
Desserts were similarly mixed. They’re all huge, so think about sharing. Safe is a dish of ice cream. Stay away from the bananas Foster. This is so good when done correctly, but the one we were served was too sweet and not flavorful enough.
Service can be spotty. On one visit, 1) the kitchen ran out of the ingredients of one of the dishes, 2) the server forgot to bring a soup, blamed it on the kitchen for being out of yet another ingredient, and finally brought it after the rest of the meal, and 3) forgot a cup of tea completely. The worst of all of this is that the server seemed to give up on our table after that. At a corporate restaurant like this, management should have given us a discount coupon or comped our dessert, just to have us go away happy. We expect better training for the staff.
But Copeland’s isn’t about the food or the service; it’s about a manufactured Louisiana experience. And this experience, while inauthentic, is all about ambience. It starts on the outside, with the restaurant’s pink walls, and music piped onto the street. It continues inside, where everything looks upscale. The ceilings are cavernous, but hot pink mood lighting and dark woods mute the effect. There are fresh linens on all the tables, and everything looks pristine. As you’re being walked through the crowded restaurant—it’s always crowded—to your table, you pass people drinking enormous drinks and eating large plates of food. Zydeco music plays from somewhere overhead, and you think: “fun fun fun.”
And Copeland’s is fun. Ordering a 60-oz. drink and sharing it with three of your friends is neat and, at $12, probably the drink deal of downtown. The appetizers are better than you’d expect at your average bar. Sure, it’s a formulaic, lowest-common-denominator corporate version of Louisiana cuisine, but it’s better corporate food than average and dinner will cost under $30. If you go into this restaurant with a group to have fun, you will.

10-03-01
Fusion powers food at St. Paul’s ‘In Cuisine’
by Bruce Schneier and Karen Cooper
In Cuisine hasn't really settled into its space on Grand Avenue, formerly occupied by Leeann Chin. You can feel its discomfort as soon as you walk in. Maybe it's the bright lights behind the counter, or the out-of-place drinks cooler. But you'll quickly forgive those little itches shortly after you walk in. It's actually a pretty room. Notice the Asian accents throughout the room: a bonsai tree, a tabletop fountain, pretty lighting, art on the walls, paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Everything is freshly painted in vivid, pleasant tones. The table settings are pretty, and nicely arranged on a bamboo placement.
Sit down and look at the menu. It's a fun read, actually. In Cuisine's menu comes from the “ingredients list” school, which means you get entrees with names like: “grilled apple-cinnamon braised pork chop, lacquered with honey-chipotle sauce and served with kumquat-shallot chutney and mashed potatoes” and “wok seared five spices duck confit served with taro, potato, pine nut hash and accompanied with apricot plum wine sauce.” Either is a mouthful to say, and both are recommended.
In Cuisine serves fusion cuisine. It's a playful, inclusive, world-beat sort of cuisine; dishes use a hodge-podge of preparations and ingredients from all over the world. In this case, most of the ingredients and preparations come from Asia. Your place is set with both Western silverware and chopsticks. It's a style we are particularly fond of and In Cuisine does a good job with it.
The best appetizer is their scallops with five-spice powder. They're served over a salsa made of corn, avocado, and tomato relish, resting on bite-sized papadam chips. It's a Far East meets Southwest sort of dish, and the flavors meld beautifully. This is the key to fusion cuisine: making diverse flavors work. The Thai vegetarian spring rolls were traditional, but meshed surprisingly well with the very non-Thai mango chipotle dipping sauce. And the accompanying salad—mango, cucumber, carrot, onion, garlic, vinegar, lime, and hot pepper—was wonderful.
The crabmeat and chicken pot stickers came pan fried, nicely spiced with a note of tarragon, and complemented with a hot garlic soy dipping sauce. Calamari came deep fried and sprinkled with sesame seeds, served with a sweet-and-sour sauce. Both very good.
The summer rolls were a surprise. We loved the cold Vietnamese-style rolls of mango, avocado, carrot, cabbage, mint, and basil, served with a peanut dipping sauce. It was like eating a light, fresh salad. These won't be around come winter, so get them while you can.
Entrees were almost as interesting. The walleye filets were the best: expertly fried, served with a teriyaki sauce, fresh bok choy, and wasabe mashed potatoes. Everything was good, but the potatoes defy description. Mixing wasabe with mashed potatoes is such a good idea we're amazed we've never seen it before.
The five-spice duck confit is also a winner. Juicy but not greasy, wonderfully seasoned, with an apricot plum sauce that has a hint of mustard. We also liked the perfectly fresh salmon, nicely flavored with macadamia nut pieces and sesame seeds. The ginger and orange sauce was a lively complement. And the filet mignon, ordered by a friend who wanted it neither medium rare nor medium, but in between, arrived exactly as requested. The peppercorn made the dish a treat, though it drowned out the sake marinade.
Where we find In Cuisine lacking is in their Chinese preparations. The jumbo shrimp came on a bed of broccoli, with a tangle of fried taro and sweet potato strips. It looked beautiful, and tasted good, but was a basic honey walnut shrimp. The “crispy, tangy, and sweet” chicken came in a similar broccoli presentation, but was just a rendition of orange chicken. Sure, the lychees were a neat surprise, but there is so much better on the menu.
Be sure to order a ginger limeade. In fact, order a refill because the first glass is too good to sip. And for dessert, the ginger crème brûlée and the mango sorbet are definitely worth your time. Avoid the macadamia nut brownie, which was too dry and tasteless.
The service is some of the best we've found recently. The waitstaff is happy to describe dishes, make recommendations, and take special requests. On one visit, our waitress asked us if we wanted to keep our mango-chipotle sauce after clearing our appetizers. (Of course we did.) On another, the waitress marked our Styrofoam leftover containers with both the contents and the date. Prices are standard: $6 or so for appetizers, entrees between $12 and $18, and lunch specials around $7.
In Cuisine is not perfect. We can't imagine why tea isn't served with all meals. The teacup at your place setting gets filled with water. But these are minor quibbles; on the whole, In Cuisine is a nice addition to the St. Paul dining scene.

09-26-01
Food with a Pho-Tau perfect finish
by Bruce Schneier and Karen Cooper
You want fast? We’ll show you fast. Run into Pho Tau Bay and grab one of those packets rolled in paper by the cashier. Ask to make sure it’s grilled pork. Pay your $2 and leave.
Oh boy, what you’ve got in your hands is a sandwich like you would never believe. It’s a bahn mi sandwich: grilled spiced pork, cold, served with scallions, cilantro, pickled carrots and cabbage, and hot peppers in a short baguette. Pick out the hot peppers if you need to, then start eating. Notice how the flavors are, at the same time, distinct and blended. This is the way food is supposed to taste. It’s the best fast-food sandwich in the Twin Cities, and a much better deal in every way than any fast food you’ve ever had. Eat slow; enjoy yourself.
Do you have a few more minutes? Ask for a table. Service is like lightning here. Servers wander the restaurant with bee-like programming. If you have a menu, they take your order. If you don’t have a menu, they bring your food. It’s really like that. Food comes within scant minutes of ordering. And if you insist on holding on to your menu, they’ll stop, one by one several times a minute, to take your order. They’ll keep coming even after your food has arrived. Hide the menu, and they stop. This is faster than fast food.
Minneapolis has many Vietnamese restaurants, and their quality varies greatly. For years, our favorite was Mi Trieu Chau. But they started declining, and the blaring television started getting to us. Then we followed the crowd to Quang’s, when they moved across Nicollet and opened their new, larger restaurant. But too often we went there and they were out of pho. Unacceptable, we said. Then we found Pho Tau Bay, and we haven’t left since.
From the outside, the place is a disaster. The building is dirty and ill-kept. It’s tucked in the corner by the railroad tracks and the backside of the K-Mart. It looks more like a place to score a drug deal than to eat dinner. But the parking lot—pothole hell; is your car’s suspension up to it?—is always full.
And the restaurant is always crowded. Even so, the tables are spread apart and the noise level isn’t bad. There have been times where we were the only westerners in the restaurant. It’s a large, well-lit room, loosely divided into smoking and non-smoking sections. The décor is cheap—cheesy inlaid paintings on the walls, plastic plants and mirrors—but the upholstery is new, and the chairs and tables all match.
We’ve been struggling to understand Pho Tau Bay, and near as we can tell they serve food like grandma used to make. Grandma probably wasn’t the best cook in the world, but everything she made was wholesome and good, and anyway she was family. Pho Tau Bay is like that: maybe you can complain about this and that, and maybe one particular dish is better down the street, but it’s just better to eat at grandma’s.
The menu is the most comprehensive of any we’ve found in the Twin Cities. There are 21 different kinds of pho, 14 different kinds of bun (Vietnamese vermicelli: some with soup and some served cold), a good dozen broken-rice dishes, several varieties of spring rolls, all sorts of Vietnamese specialties and even a few Chinese standards.
The pho is fine, and they’ve never run out on us. This is beef soup, served piping hot with noodles and various bits of vegetables and seasonings. You’ll get a plate on the side with bean sprouts, fresh Thai basil, lime wedges, and hot peppers. This is your chance to experiment. Taste the soup, add some of one of the ingredients, then taste again. Repeat until the soup is to your liking. When you get a bit bored, add another ingredient. We like the fresh beef pho, number 9 on the menu, and we always add the hot peppers first and the limes last.
By far the best thing on the menu is the papaya with beef liver. It’s No. A12 on the menu. It’s a cold plate of carrots, jicama, peanuts, dried papaya and beef liver, mint and other spices, and fish sauce. We consider it an example of a perfect dish—interesting, balanced, delicious—and the best thing we’ve ever found on any Vietnamese menu anywhere.
We also like the hot and sour fish soup (No. 66), and the bun with pork and shrimp. The spring rolls range from okay to good (order the ones with peanut sauce over the ones with fish sauce), and the broken rice dishes range from good to excellent. The fondue dishes (Nos. 69-72) are served in the broth they’re cooked in, with a side of rice. Tasty, but you can do better here. You can order that grilled pork sandwich at your table. It’s on the first page, under bahn mi.
Your check is waiting for you up front, so don’t ask for it. Just find your table number (it’s on the wall near your table) and pay at the register. It’s faster that way.

Ethiopia for me, mango for you
by Bruce Schneier and Karen Cooper
We’ve been pining for a good Ethiopian restaurant since Odaa disappeared from the West Bank. The food there was consistently interesting and tasty, and we haven’t found another east African restaurant we like as well.
When we read about House of Lalibela, our hopes began to rise. We visited just days after opening. The staff was still training and the temporary menus had only a few choices.
Since then, the staff has become more experienced and the menu has grown. We’ve got a new favorite east African restaurant.
The location isn’t an asset. East Lake Street hasn’t been glamorous since they tore down the roller coaster around 1910. And the building doesn’t look like much: a free-standing one-story structure rising out of the concrete with a large parking lot around it. It looks more like an Embers than anything else. Which, as a matter of fact, it once was. Karen worked at that Embers back in the mid ’80s, as the bar-rush waitress. She knows more about that building than she cares to remember. And she was utterly stunned by the improvements inside.
What was once a grubby and dilapidated restaurant is now all primped for company. The walls are freshly painted with warm earth tones. The counter where people ate their 2:00 a.m. eggs is now an inviting bar. The new windows are larger, and coated to soften the sun’s glare. The dining room, once the stomping ground of barflies and cab drivers, is now simple and sophisticated. Ethiopian art covers the walls. All the tables now have linens and fresh flowers, and charmingly weird fixtures hang from the ceiling.
Presumably they completely revamped the kitchen, too, because Embers never cooked food like this.
Ethiopian cuisine can be a novel experience for newcomers, so a short primer is in order. Basically, you’re served puddles of heavily spiced food on a large platter, meant for your whole table. You don’t use a fork, but instead eat using the fermented wheat flat bread—called injera—provided with your food. Tear off a piece of bread, use the bread to pick up some food and eat it all together. Injera also lines the platter and soaks up the sauces, and you’re welcome to eat that as well. A common spice is berbere sauce, a spice blend of garlic, red pepper, cardamom, coriander, fenugreek and other spices. It’s red, and it’s hot, like a hot, red citrusy curry powder.
Wats are stews of heavily spiced red pepper and berbere sauce; you can order chicken and egg, beef, shrimp or vegetables. An alecha is a milder version of the wat. A tibs is even milder: onions, garlic and butter, practically French. All three are Ethiopian standards, and delicious. Even more interesting is the minchetabesh, finely chopped beef fried with ginger, onion, cardamom, and white pepper and then sautéed in berbere sauce. And equally good is the gomen be sega: beef sautéed with collard greens, onions, peppers,
peppercorns, and cardamom. If you’re adventurous, try the spiced beef tartare: kitfo.
Most of the vegetarian dishes are lentil-based. Miser wat is a red lentil wat. Yatakilt wat is a mixture of green beans, carrots, and potatoes—one of our favorites. Kik alecha is made with yellow split peas, and is delicious. We also like the yemiser azifa, a salad of cold lentils, chopped onions, and jalapeños, and seasoned with garlic, ginger, white pepper, lemon, and mustard seeds. And we’re simply nuts about the collard-green gomen.
For those who want to try everything, the best deals are the combination platters. Lalibela has four: two meat and two vegetarian, large or small. Order at least one meat and one vegetarian, and let them bring it all together.
You don’t need to order appetizers, but the Ethiopian salad—a simple lettuce, onion, tomato and jalapeno salad, has a special Lalibla dressing that’s fantastic—is a nice starter. The vinaigrette is heavily spiced, and a great overture for the meal. Also good are the sambussas, small pastries filled with either meat or a spiced lentil mixture. The cilantro tomato dip makes it even better. More adventurous is the ayiab begomen: finely chopped collard greens mixed with spiced cottage cheese and served cold. We liked it, but it’s not for everyone.
The restaurant has a small wine list, but nothing Western really fits the cuisine. More traditional is Ethiopian honey wine, and beer also works well. Or simply order a glass of thick, sweet mango juice.
The service is friendly and efficient. The waitresses are happy to chat about the food, the restaurant, how long they’ve been in the United States, and everything else. Language was sometimes a problem, as when we asked for some details about the cuisine, but we found ways to communicate and everybody smiled all the way through. Food comes quickly, and the portions are generous; we’ve gone for lunch and then skipped dinner. We wish the food came out of the kitchen a bit hotter, but that’s a minor quibble.
Spread the news. There’s a clean, bright, well-designed new restaurant serving utterly delicious Ethiopian food. International revolution happened in other Minneapolis neighborhoods, but seemed to have passed this stretch of East Lake by ... until now.

09-05-01
Shuang Cheng: Simply Cantonese

by Bruce Schneier and Karen Cooper
There’s something to be said about a tabletop covered with delicious food. It’s even better when it costs less than $15 a person, including tax and tip. And if ordering random dishes off the enormous menu is a delight, then we’re willing to overlook the cramped tables and erratic service. And judging from the packed dining room and the long waits, lots of other people agree.
Shuang Cheng (it mean “Twin Cities” in Mandarin) is our favorite Twin Cities Chinese restaurant, and that’s saying something. We’re blessed with some first-rate Chinese eateries: Village Wok, Red Pepper, Rainbow. But Shuang Cheng’s consistency keeps us coming back.
At first glance, the menu is daunting: page after page of dishes, some never before seen in the Twin Cities. There’s also a board of never-changing specials, handwritten in both Chinese and English. And little is explained: “Roast Pig,” “Spicy Eggplant,” “Steamed Shrimp with Garlic.” How can anyone decide?
Relax. It’ll all be fine. While not everything on the menu is perfect, nothing is awful. And if you follow a few simple rules, you’re in for a treat.
Rule No. 1: seafood is king here. Flip right to the seafood section of the menu, and order anything that strikes your fancy. We’re in love with the whole fried Chilean sea bass, either with black bean sauce or ginger-scallion sauce. Or the steamed walleye with ginger and scallions. The mussels with black bean sauce are messy, but delicious.
The seafood asparagus is worth a trip all by itself. It’s shrimp, squid, and scallops, stir-fried with asparagus pieces in a light sauce. And the best thing we’ve found on the menu-so far-is the baked spicy scallops. They come covered with Chinese five-spice seasoning and are stir-fried to golden perfection with onions and scallions. Eat this one fast; it tastes far better when hot.
Rule No. 2: what you read is what you get. This is a Chinese restaurant for Chinese; you don’t get the same overcooked vegetables in every dish. “Plum duck” is pieces of duck in plum sauce. It’s sweet and strong and tasty, but it doesn’t come with any vegetables. “Beef with dried orange peels” is a dish of stir-fried beef with orange peels: pungent, crunchy, and delicious. But again, it’s just beef.
This problem is easily solved: order one of the vegetable dishes. You can choose from stir-fried green beans, bok choy, Chinese broccoli (also called gai lan), pea tips, and mustard greens. Our favorite are the pea tips: they’re fresh and sweet and bursting with flavor. The mustard greens are much more bitter, if you like that kind of thing (Bruce does).
Rule No. 3: order at least one
nonfish dish. Although less consistent, there are some gems among the mammals and fowl as well. The beef and hot pepper is intensely flavorful. The sesame chicken or beef are both good. And we like the roast duck chow fun a lot.
But don’t get carried away.
Rule No. 4: expect a lot of food. The kitchen doesn’t skimp. Shuang Cheng is most fun with groups of four to six. Order one or two fewer dishes than people, and share everything. Be prepared to take the leftovers home. Larger parties also work, but you’ll have to wait even longer for a table.
Not everything is great. The stuffed black mushrooms are filled with a mealy and tasteless chopped pork mixture. The sliced roasted duck with Chinese broccoli (mysteriously listed under the “Barbeque” section of the menu) is too greasy, although the broccoli stir-fried with slices of fresh ginger was delicious. The sweet-and-sour chicken is uninteresting; so is the sweet and sour soup. The eggrolls have nothing to say for themselves, either. But those few negatives pale in comparison to everything else wonderful on the menu.
Rule No. 5: don’t be afraid to ask for assistance. If you have trouble deciding, you can ask the waiter for a recommendation. You’re likely to be steered away from the more traditional dishes, but you won’t be disappointed either. Rule No. 6: despite some Szechuan entrées, this is primarily a Cantonese restaurant. If you are looking for pot stickers, you won’t find any.
The food is so good that you will hardly notice your Spartan surroundings. It’s a good thing, too, since no effort is spent on the décor. Tables are so crammed together that the waiters sometimes have trouble weaving amongst them. Dishes arrive when they are done, and not at the same time—another reason to share food. And the noise can be deafening, though less so if you’re at one of the back tables.
Shuang Cheng has cheap lunch plates for $5 and $6, and entrées range from $8 to $12. They offer enough vegetarian choices to please anyone, and accept reservations for large parties. We hosted a 15-person dinner here once, and were thrilled with the results. We’ve also brought out-of-town guests to what we consider one of Minneapolis’ culinary stars.

08-29-01
Zinc, try again
by Bruce Schneier and Karen Cooper

Zinc is a French brasserie, and specializes in French, mostly southern French, country cooking. Think mussels, salade niçoise, bouillabaisse, cassoulet, that sort of thing. We think the restaurant is beautiful and like being there. But the kitchen tries much too hard, and the results often fall short.
The decor is striking. The white tile walls are covered with mirrors and French food posters. A long, hand-carved dark wood bar flows down one entire side. The rest of the large room has some high-backed banquets and varying levels that make the place seem both cozy and cosmopolitan at the same time. Sometimes the effect can be disconcerting: One late-afternoon visit, we were sure the restaurant was empty. However, we could hear laughter coming from somewhere and we knew the waiter didn’t bring all those plates of food to an empty table.
Maybe it would be better if he had. We had such high expectations on our first visit. After all, Brasserie Zinc is one of Kieran Follard’s restaurants. We love the food at Kieran’s, and often ate at The Local before they stopped serving dinner. Zinc’s menu looked so promising.
Our first disappointment was the fondue. This was a ramekin filled with goat cheese mixed with black olives, leeks, and tomatoes and baked until bubbling. The goat cheese gave the dish a little bit of a sour taste and a grainy texture. There’s a much better execution of this concept at The Loring; they use artichokes instead of leeks and better cheese.
We also cannot recommend the bouillabaisse or the onion soup—both were much too thin. The tarte Tatin was more American pie than French tart. And the squash ravioli tasted bland.
At Zinc, your best bet is to stick with the simple preparations. Their excellent raw bar illustrates this nicely. You can order their clams and oysters individually or as a plateau assortment.
We ordered the petit plateau, and were presented with a large ice-filled bowl on a tall stand—too tall—we generally like to be able to see the food we’re eating. It was also difficult to deconstruct. Smack in the middle of this ice bowl was a champagne glass filled with a god-awful champagne-tomato-whatnot granitée; we couldn’t see what we were doing, and managed to fling ice and langoustines everywhere in an attempt to pull it out.
The oysters were fresh and interesting, as were the wonderful clams. The shrimp were basically a vehicle for the tame cocktail sauce. The langoustines, once we chased them down, were tough, watery and overcooked. Best skip the drama and just order a plate of oysters and clams.
The pot-au-feu is another example. It came in a tureen large enough for two: a good stew served with a wonderful piece of chicken. The skin-on chicken was crispy without being greasy. The stew broth was obviously made from fresh stock, and all the ingredients both retained their flavors and blended nicely with the others. But it was made with way too much celery, even for Karen who, nearly alone in the universe, likes lots of celery. You’re better off ordering the roast chicken off the menu.
Save room for the steamed mussels, which alone make Zinc worth visiting. Bathed in wine, shallots, herbs and butter, this is the kind of food we fly to France for. Order a side of pomme frites, which will forever ruin your taste for fast-food fries. They come in a paper sleeve inside a metal cup: hot, fresh and crispy, but not greasy. Eat them alone, dip them in the fresh mayonnaise, or use them to sop up the marvelous broth.
And when you run out of frites, use the bread. Zinc serves some of the best baguettes in the Twin Cities. If you play your cards right, you can make a meal out of mussels and bread.
Also a bottle of wine. Zinc’s wine list is expertly crafted. It’s more than 250 bottles long, and sprinkled with both inexpensive wines and interesting, moderately priced wines. French bistros should have lots of cheap wine choices, and Zinc does a great job there. Their beer list is filled with French and Belgian beers. Our only quibble: no cider.
Service was efficient and friendly, no matter how many times we sent our servers back to the kitchen to check on some obscure ingredient in our food. Prices are reasonable for Nicollet Mall; appetizers under $10 and most entrees under $20.
Brasserie Zinc is aimed at downtown business crowds who want someplace pretty to look at. It’ll definitely impress your client, or your date. We’ll come back for a plate of oysters or bowl of mussels at the bar, but we’ll go elsewhere for dinner.