In the lull before the pre-theater Guthrie Theater rush, the kitchen at Sea Change seemed like one of those British farces, where the actors zip in and out through swinging doors, narrowly missing each other. A chef with a tray of shimmering trout whisked by another holding a knife. In all farces, timing is crucial. Rock music played, but not loudly. There was little idle chatter and conversation was scripted toward the opening act: the 5 o'clock surge. But there was no panic, just a palpable intensity.

Chef de cuisine Jamie Malone was cleaning sea urchins. They were a new item that she plans to offer in November, but she was trying them on select customers that night.

"This is the best part," said Malone, holding the urchin up to her nose. "Smells like low tide."

She offered a sample to a visitor and Shanti Jensen, who manages the front of the house. It was a salty, musty, nearly overwhelming taste of seawater. Jensen asked what body part it was.

"It's, uh, the gonads," said Malone.

A sly smile spread on her face.

Malone, 30, has become one of the Twin Cities' top chefs through hard work, quiet determination and a subtle, quirky sense of humor. On the job, she's intensely focused and unusually unflappable, and she insists that her team display the same calm reserve. "She's got great command of the kitchen and rapport with the staff. She's built a really cohesive and professional team," said Tim McKee, executive chef of La Belle Vie and the one who initially led Sea Change.

Malone grew up in North St. Paul and started cooking as a teenager. She was the kind of teen who rode her bike to the market on Saturdays, listening to "The Splendid Table" on Minnesota Public Radio. A food nerd.

Later, she started a bead store with her mom and sister, but all day long she thought about what she would make for dinner.

So she asked herself what she would do if she had all the money in the world, and decided to study at Le Cordon Bleu in the Twin Cities. Her first internship was at La Belle Vie, under McKee, where "I learned everything: Keep your head down. Don't talk. Be organized."

She moved on to Porter and Frye, where Steven Brown was performing modern miracles with chemicals that few in Minnesota had heard of.

She helped open Barrio in Edina and Minneapolis, then bounced back and forth between them and Sea Change, where she became sous chef for Erik Anderson. When he left for Nashville, she sought the job, as did chefs from large cities.

"I just acted like it was my kitchen, until it was," said Malone.

Now the top chef of one of the metro area's top restaurants, Malone still studies relentlessly. "It's about all I do: read books on food," she said.

Anderson said he saw "something special" the first time he cooked alongside Malone at Porter and Frye. "She just loves to cook," he said. "It's something you're born with."

Malone comes up with ideas for dishes at all hours, so she keeps a notebook with her to jot down thoughts. Then she gets together with sous chefs Ryan Cook and Adam Murphy and they start throwing ideas around. Pastry chef Niki Francioli punctuates the menu with such delights as a frozen passion fruit soufflé.

Sea Change is always seeking sustainable fish, and Malone is pushing more vegetables these days. For example, her abalone raw plate, with asparagus and bone marrow, "is a dish about vegetables; the abalone is incidental."

She doesn't think being one of the few women at the top in local restaurants is a big deal. "It's the lifestyle. You don't have a life. You sacrifice so much."

Malone hopes the sacrifice is evident in every plate that comes out of the kitchen. "I hope [diners] love the flavors. I hope they are delighted by what they find on the plate. I hope they are surprised," she said.