Mill City Cafe: a good neighbor

I'm loving the music. Sort of. The trio is riffing off each other and I'm tapping my toes and drumming my fingers to the rhythm. I'm also ignoring my dinner companions. Scratch that: We're ignoring one another -- out of necessity. We came for dinner and a long catch-up chat, but what we got were occasional snippets of conversation and a concert. Not that there's anything wrong with that, if you know what to expect. But the close quarters at Mill City Cafe & Cocktails make for an either/or proposition: It's either a restaurant or a jazz bar, but probably not both.

Located on the first floor of the California Building, a former 1920 grain mill retrofitted to a new life as an eclectic mix of artists' studios, the restaurant had gone through several incarnations over the past decade -- most of them as a coffeehouse, bar, cafe or some combination thereof -- before co-owners Shay Gallagher and Mandy Zechmeister put their names on the lease last spring. The duo know the area, having met years ago while working as servers at nearby Jax Cafe. Their goal was to create an uncomplicated neighborhood drop-in.

In many ways, they have succeeded, starting with refreshingly affordable prices. The lunch and brunch menus top out at $8, and dinner entrees average $13. Service is often so friendly you wonder if a pyramid-scheme pitch is on its way, and the no-cover-charge music policy feels like an early Christmas gift. And wouldn't you know it? The menu's standouts are exactly the kind of noshies you'd want to share while enjoying a night out with a drink and some good music.

The kitchen assembled a lovely little cheese plate: a mellow Mahon, a creamy chèvre and a robust sheep's milk blue, paired with slices of sticky dates, a drizzle of truffle-scented honey and a few spoonfuls of sweet fig molasses. A piping-hot ramekin filled with artichoke hearts and a rich Parmesan sauce had an oldie-but-goodie aura. Generously seasoned pork tamales, topped with a cheery cilantro-laced sour cream, were a nice surprise.

Crab cakes, moist and tender, had plenty of sweet crab. Even a small salad of greens turned out to be more than the sum of its parts, since those parts were so well-chosen: fresh greens, spiced walnuts for crunch, dried cherries for a little sweet-tart blast, a few shavings of buttery Manchengo and a genial balsamic vinaigrette.

Dinner is hit and miss. A swipe of garlicky aoili and a pile of mellow caramelized onions were just the right touch for a tall stack of ham and brie inside herb-flecked focaccia. Two tenderloins, pork (with creamy polenta) and beef (with excellent mashed potatoes), had a perfect comfort-food feel. And a burger stuffed with bacon and a salty blue cheese made for a great casual meal.

The misses, unfortunately, missed by a mile. It's hard to know what was worse: a flavorless, overcooked swordfish in a strangely syrupy sauce, or the soggy slaw that shared the plate. Shrimp and scallops, ruined by lingering too long on the stove, were overpowered by a clunky red curry sauce. Admirably thick, smoky bacon couldn't save a lifeless carbonara. Dessert, a rock-hard chocolate-peanut butter pie and a forgettable chocolate layer cake, had me thinking of making an emergency Sebastian Joe's pit stop.

For my money, the Mill City is at its best during weekend brunch, when sunshine pours through tall multipaned windows, washes the honey-tinted plank floor and butcherblock tabletops with an inviting, let's-read-the-paper warmth and highlights the room's quirky art collection (the Bloody Marys and mimosas don't hurt). If the kitchen isn't always on its game -- dull, dried-out roasted potatoes, burned flapjacks, rubbery eggs -- it's making an admirable effort at stretching beyond bacon-and-eggs basics.

A plate of light, flaky biscuits were smothered in a stick-to-your-ribs sausage gravy. A cool-hot mango salsa injected a dose of color and flavor to flour tortillas stuffed with black beans, eggs and sour cream. Nutty wild rice and a pinch of cinnamon gave a pleasant beyond-buttermilk distinction to fruit-filled pancakes. A big slice of quiche had a rich baked-custard vibe.

Lunch is similarly pleasant, with a few holdovers from dinner plus several nicely composed sandwiches.

One day a few weeks back, a pal and I slipped in for a quick noon meal that sticks in my mind for four reasons: a gooey, tomato-topped grilled cheese sandwich, a fine tuna melt and excellent coffee. Dessert was delicious gossip, savored without fighting over any music. Now that was the rhythm I wanted.

Rick Nelson • 612-673-4757 • rdnelson@startribune.com