Restaurant review: Purple People Eatery has ups, downs

The best thing about the new Purple People Eatery in Woodbury is its host, Carl Eller. The Viking Hall of Famer is on hand most nights to greet his fans, and he tackles his assignment with warmth and grace.

The food and service, on the other hand, are hit-and-miss.

Let's get one thing straight: This is not a sports bar. It says so right on the little cards that greet diners at the hostess stand. "Instead, we are a Vikings Themed Restaurant," say the cards, which bear Eller's signature. "We are a museum of Vikings history. I want this restaurant to be a place where fans of all ages can relive the great history of this team."

The Purple People Eatery is actually two restaurants side-by-side, and despite what Eller says, one of them looks a lot like a sports bar to me. It has TV screens tuned to basketball and football games, lots of sports memorabilia, and standard sports bar fare such as nachos, chicken wings, burgers, pasta and pizza.

But Eller does have a point: While most sports bars are just decorated with sports paraphernalia, the Purple People Eatery actually features the sports legends themselves. On one recent evening, he was joined by half a dozen former teammates for a book signing by Matt Blair. The fans, who stood in line for autographs, were delighted.

The other dining room inside the Purple People Eatery is dedicated to fine dining, with a menu featuring entrees named after famous Vikings -- ranging from Jerry Burns Five Cheese Cavitapi Pasta and Jim Marshall's Chicken, Shrimp and Andouille Sausage Jambalaya to Fran Tarkenton's Lobster Medallions, and several tableside preparations, including Caesar salad, Bananas Foster and Cherries Jubilee.

At its best, dining at the Purple People Eatery can be quite enjoyable. On my first visit, we opted for fine dining, and had a delightful dinner. The Caesar salad was expertly tossed with appropriate showmanship in a big wooden bowl. Bud Grant's North Shore walleye was fresh and delicate, with a crisp but ungreasy crust, and accompanied by a savory medley of sautéed yellow squash, zucchini and peppers. And my rack of lamb consisted of four small but very tasty lamb chops coated in mild mustard and bread crumbs, with the same veggies and horseradish whipped potatoes.

On a second visit, we ate in the more casual lounge. Eller apparently had the night off, and the food wasn't anything special: a big pile of Packer parts (breaded fried cheese curds), a sandwich of roast beef lost in too much bread, a generic wild rice soup, and a runny dish of cavatapi pasta drowning in cream sauce.

For my third visit, my friends and I had the fine dining room almost to ourselves. We got off to a bad start with our drink orders. I ordered red wine and got white, and the cocktail connoisseurs in my party complained that their brandy Alexander lacked booze, and the Bacardi cocktail was served in the wrong glass.

As for the appetizers, the buckwheat pancakes, made from Eller's own recipe, are just fine, but don't go well with maple syrup, sour cream and smoked salmon. The garlic chicken wings were coated in an overpowering black glaze, misleadingly billed as Thai. I rather liked the crab dip, but the smoked pheasant quesadilla tasted like dry chicken.

The wily game bird made a second appearance in Bud Grant's Pheasant Breast (priced at a staggering $45), where it again tasted like dry chicken and came topped with a port wine glaze that tasted like something out of a jar. The companions who ordered the jumbo deep-fried shrimp and the enormous thick-cut pork chop were both delighted with their orders, but the breaded lobster medallions in Nantua sauce got a less enthusiastic reception.

Service needs work. The staff bungled our reservation three different ways. And our young server lacked experience and training.

The bottom line: When the kitchen tries to tackle the likes of pheasant and lobster, it is out of its league. If I returned, I would stick to less pricy dishes, such as the walleye, Norm Van Brocklin's BBQ Ribs, or Gary Larsen's prime rib, (misspelled on the menu as Larson). Or maybe I'd just stick to the lounge and order a burger.