Graze through the exciting new menu at Il Gatto and you might be tempted to shout, "Tim McKee is in the house."
After 25 years of hard use, the former Figlio went through a top-to-bottom transformation last year, but the food side of the remake fell a little flat.
Enter Mr. McKee. Hot off his successful 2009 redo of the Guthrie Theater's Cue into Sea Change, McKee -- who, in a bit of culinary irony, got his start working the line at Figlio in the early 1990s -- was recruited by Il Gatto's ownership, Parasole Restaurant Holdings, to refocus but not wholly reinvent their Italian-minded Calhoun Square flagship.
Done. With an assist by longtime colleague Jim Christiansen, who oversees the kitchen on a day-to-day basis, McKee's inventive, medium-priced Il Gatto menu now more than matches the room's easygoing setting. The food is far more rustic than the fancy turns diners have come to expect from McKee's work at La Belle Vie, but it has an intrinsic appeal.
Starting with a profoundly delicious cured swordfish, a hyper-idealized version of canned tuna that's served with a colorful array of heirloom tomatoes -- and flirtatious pops of sweet basil -- that manage to capture some of their faraway peak-season flavor; where does Christiansen find them?
A grilled bread salad is also blessed with more of those mystery tomatoes and spicy greens tossed in a restrained mix of olive oil and salt. The grilled octopus is similarly dreamy, a snaky tentacle that's charred on the outside, seductively tender and irresistible inside. A roasted beet salad -- dancing with pepper, crunchy toasted hazelnuts and ultra-creamy burrata -- made me appreciate this well-worn genre all over again.
Request a booth near the kitchen and observe pizza-making staffers going through their paces, artfully tossing dough and then coaxing thin, semi-crisp, beautifully golden, prudently topped crusts out of the blazing wood-burning oven. Or take a seat in the lively bar and dive into one of the off-the-beaten-path pastas, sold in small and large portions. Most are welcome exercises in restraint (a decidedly anti-Parasole impulse), whether it's a robust lamb ragu spooned over thin, mint-tinted ribbons, or a steaming bowl of randomly cut, cornmeal-fortified sheets, blanketed with porcinis and forkfuls of wood-smoked chicken.
McKee and Christiansen turn seemingly minor touches into major impressions. One example: The kitchen's wood-burning oven forges fragile bread balloons, which are draped with parchment-thin prosciutto slices and roasted pears; the results are showy, surprising and tasty. Even the side dishes are don't-miss wonders, especially the bright blend of crunchy, citrus-kissed radishes.
Sure, I encountered a few clunkers (a luscious roast chicken brought low by a ridiculously hot paprika-chile crust, a hyper-salty pork platter, a maddeningly uneven poached egg and roasted asparagus combo), but in nearly every measure, the remake is an impressive leap forward for Parasole, one that I hope the company takes to heart. I'm already daydreaming about how McKee & Co. could improve Il Gatto's populist Calhoun Square sibling, Uptown Cafeteria.
3001 Hennepin Av. S., Mpls., 612-822-1688, www.ilgattominneapolis.com
Bollywood in Uptown Based solely on looks, Darbar India Grill fits right into its energetic Uptown surroundings. The place possesses the brand of contemporary stylishness that could serve as a challenge on "HGTV Design Star," all cool golds and creams, set off by splashes of color yanked straight off the kitchen's spice rack. There's a watch-them-work portal in the rear dining room, where diners can catch a glimpse of how a commercial tandoor oven works, and the room is ringed by enormous windows that offer genuine cityscape views, a Twin Cities rarity.
My first visit was underwhelming, food-wise. The menu is one of those enormous six-page encyclopedias, where different proteins (lamb, shrimp, chicken, beef) receive similar treatment (vindaloo, madrasi, curry, masala), and prices rarely steer north of the lower teens. If the format exudes familiarity, there's a reason; it's borrowed from India Palace, owner Diljit Singh's thriving suburban chain. Everything I tasted was fine -- boilerplate Minnesota Indian -- just not terribly special, or unusual or game-changing. It's like the "Law & Order" episode you've seen a million times; you know exactly what's going to happen, yet still you watch -- and enjoy.
I was feeling sort of baited-and-switched; Darbar may be the best-looking Indian restaurant in town, but the food isn't all that different from its competitors. Turns out I was, characteristically, missing the point. A friend clued me in.
"I get the onion naan, fill them with the Seekh kebabs and turn it into the best lamb burger in town," he said. I took his advice, and he was absolutely right. The naans are great -- puffy, slightly blistered, piping hot, brushed with butter and filled with all manner of complementary goodies, from garlic and cilantro to raisins and coconut. And the kebabs turned out to be an exceptional house-made sausage -- tender, generously seasoned and expertly grilled. The combination was a total treat.
I also loved the fajita-style tandoor items -- you know, sizzling hot, on a bed of tomatoes and onions. The selection includes a fantastic chicken, seared on the outside, juicy and flavorful inside, as well as yogurt-marinated scallops and enormous snappy shrimp, all served with a jalapeño-laced mint sauce. They're terrific, and they make me wonder: Why not skip the expected, and give us more of this unexpected? They do the latter so well.
1221 W. Lake St., Mpls., 612-822-3300, www.darbarindiagrill.com
From Morocco to Minnesota The fluorescent lighting was so bright at Marrakech Moroccan Café and Grill that it felt as if I was having dinner in the accounts payable department at my office. But that's the only harsh thing about this warm and welcoming newcomer to restaurant-centric Central Avenue in northeast Minneapolis.
Caterer-turned-restaurateur Redouane Elattaoui's modest counter-service spot concentrates on familiar dishes from his native Morocco. In a case of timing-is-everything, each inexpensive dish (top price: a bargain-lover's $10.50) that we ordered felt as if it had been tailor-made for a snowy winter's night.
A half-dozen gently seasoned tagines -- slow-simmered stews -- were the essence of home-style cooking. Juicy chicken had a teasing lemon flavor, which bounced nicely against salty, pungent green olives. Eggs, barely poached in a bright tomato sauce, added color and texture to a heaping plate of small, melt-in-your-mouth beef meatballs, each bite flecked with herbs. Layers of phyllo dough, pistachios and saffron- and cinnamon-stewed chicken proved a sweet-savory treat.
The kitchen had depleted its prune inventory, which meant we couldn't sample the fruit-beef-almond tagine. So we settled for more chicken, surrounded by thick slices of carrots and onions and laid out on a bed of couscous dressed with golden raisins and chickpeas. A little bland, perhaps, but satisfying.
Salads are fresh, colorful, plentiful and cheap. The home-style desserts include a sticky-sweet spiral of flaky phyllo-like dough, drenched in rose-scented honey and sprinkled with sliced almonds, and wonderfully buttery cookies sprinkled with cinnamon. Both are delicious with a pot of hot mint tea.
1839 Central Av. NE., Mpls., 612-788-0405
Rick Nelson • 612-673-4757
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