eat + drink

At Blackbird, co-owners Chris Stevens and Gail Mollner get it right.

After working for others -- they met at the former Table of Contents in St. Paul -- the husband-and-wife team have created an easygoing and approachable restaurant that serves its neighborhood. The menu is eclectic enough to keep frequent diners engaged, but not so out there that it will intimidate anyone chained into a Perkins-Applebee's-Chili's lockstep. Value is also a major component of this success story. Entree prices are firmly anchored in the teens, and most hover toward the low end of that spectrum.

To say that Blackbird is about comfort food is a copout, because Stevens, who runs the kitchen, seems to be forever thinking of ways to put a spring into the step of familiar dishes. It's as if, say, Ina Garten, TV's "Barefoot Contessa" -- or maybe the test kitchen of Everyday Food magazine -- took on the challenge of opening a southwest Minneapolis cafe.

For example, I love Stevens' egg salad sandwich, which separates the mayo -- nicely spiced -- from the egg -- which is fried, not hard-cooked. Paprika-rubbed skin puts a tasty spin on plain-old roast chicken, and the accompanying sherry gravy is equally vibrant. Stevens isn't afraid to pile on the horseradish in a focaccia sandwich packed with tender beef brisket and sweet, slow-roasted onions. Brown rice gives a black-bean burger a much-needed oomph, and there was such blazing jalapeño-induced heat in BB's take on the iconic banh mi -- stuffed with pork, a smooth liverwurst and crunchy pickled vegetables -- that I was seriously looking around for a fire extinguisher.

Fish and chips means a pan-fried, panko-crusted salmon. It's marvelous, with the richness of the salmon undampened by a deep fryer. A mellow tarragon vinaigrette, pungent sun-dried tomatoes and a robust blue cheese nicely bounce off one another in a toss of sprightly butter lettuce and roasted beets. It's rare to run across liver on a menu these days, but Stevens embraces it, gently sautéing the stuff and adding it to a colorful salad of tart apples and bitter greens.

Grazers can choose from delightful curry-scented lamb meatballs, generously topped thin-crust pizzas and spring rolls stuffed with all kinds of delicious goodies, from a surf-and-turf steak-crab combo to tofu rolled around shiitake mushrooms. Even the what-you-see-is-what-you-get dishes -- slices of rare flank steak, a tender mustard-crusted pork loin, lightly sautéed polenta topped with hearty ratatouille -- are satisfying. If there is a weakness, it's in the underseasoned, occasionally perfunctory side dishes.

Still, the details that so often trip up similar nuevo mom-and-pop establishments are rarely overlooked (for example, the hibiscus iced tea pops with refreshing flavor, as does the wonderfully tart lemonade). Sunday brunch is another low-key pleasure, with a selection of well-prepared egg dishes, fine plate-size pancakes, and a hash topped with gently basted eggs and hollandaise.

Stevens and Mollner obviously know a good thing when they see one, which explains the short roster of exceptionally crafted truffles from St. Paul's Chocolat Celeste, each one a fabulous quick-hit sweet. For larger appetites, the choices are a bit more uneven. Best is a lovely butter cake topped with apples. I wish the dry carrot cake were as good as its goat cheese-kissed icing. Crème brûlée was another misfire, runny and overpowered by jasmine.

The setting, a narrow, deep storefront, should feel cramped but doesn't, thanks to a resourceful use of tight square footage and a decorating sense based on a passion for found objects: a playful collection of mounted antlers and horns, a campy mix of paper lanterns and vintage iron lamps, lots of claustrophobia-deadening antique mirrors.

Mollner, the smile at the front door, ably caters to the widest possible audience -- groups of friends, romance-starved couples taking full advantage of a baby-sitter's service, empty nesters out for a spontaneous meal, families large and small, solo diners on a date with a good book -- making room for all in the way that a space-challenged apartment can sometimes be an advantageous place to host a cocktail party.

So, would I fight a soul-sucking journey in crosstown traffic for a meal at Blackbird? Iffy. It's not a destination restaurant, and you know what? It's not trying to be one, either, a modesty that I find enormously appealing. But for anyone within a short drive, walk or bike ride -- and that's a whole lot of folks -- it's definitely a place where you'll be happy to become a regular.

Rick Nelson • 612-673-4757

Rick Nelson • rdnelson@startribune.com