Corner Table lets local ingredients shine

Long story short: A little over a year ago, chef Scott Pampuch left a longtime gig at the Modern Cafe and stepped through the revolving kitchen door at n.e. thyme. His tenure ran five months, and the restaurant closed shortly thereafter. Pampuch, smitten with the location, took ownership May 1 and by early July the small-scale cafe at the intersection of 43rd and Nicollet was rechristened Corner Table. There are traces of the Modern in Corner Table - primarily the creative use of moderately priced ingredients and the appeal of value-conscious prices and sane portions - but Pampuch and chef de cuisine Keven Klavsten have fashioned a restaurant that is entirely their own. Their best efforts yield dishes that I could return to day after day. Part of their secret comes from sourcing locally as often as possible, then allowing the purity of those products to grab the spotlight. No resorting to attention-diverting tricks, just smart, unpretentious cooking that yields clean, sincere and often intensely satisfying flavors. The menu changes monthly, and it doesn't get bogged down in a strict framework; if Pampuch feels like Thai, Caribbean or Italian, he dives right in. A quick Barbados vacation inspired Pampuch to create my favorite dish, a whole trout stuffed with a sage-bay leaf-cilantro puree and roasted until the herbs perfumed the moist, gossamer fish; feisty black beans, sweet-tart papaya and creme fraiche collaborated to bring the dish to a rousing finish. Another winner was snappy tiger shrimp, poached in coconut milk, laid out on a bed of soba noodles and dancing with the flavors of mint, lemon grass and lime. Wonderful. Comfort foods soar. One night bison was braised in red wine, pot roast-style, until it melted in my mouth like a Kraft caramel. A few weeks later it was rare, butter knife-tender beef, with a parsnip-turnip hash sturdy enough to stand up to the meat's varsity-league complexity. Whatever the cut, the expertly prepared lamb is a can't-miss item, the flavor so intense it practically jumps right off the plate. Ditto the chicken, its politically correct free-range-organic qualities (a genre Pampuch calls "happy chicken") evident in every delicious bite. Its most memorable variation was a quarter bird rubbed with spices and finished with a ruddy smoked tomato-honey sauce; the dill/new potato salad and iceberg lettuce slaw only added to the festive picnic vibe. Chicken livers - when's the last time you saw them on a menu? - topped a savory chanterelle-black trumpet tart. Pastas, disarmingly simple, are another treat: a toss of sweet corn, sage and Pampuch's own ruddy pancetta; or perhaps pine nuts, parsley and a house-made mascarpone. Other vegetarian dishes boast the same pleasing color-flavor punches. In print, a wheat-berry risotto sounded very '70s co-op deli counter, but in reality it was anything but: a hearty idea boosted by wilted kale and saffron oil. Corn and caramelized onions brushed a sweet gloss on a decadent strudel. A chive gnocchi had a delicate celery pallor and meltingly delicious texture. Salads exploited the season's bounty: a can't-miss combo of three heirloom tomatoes, squeaky mozzarella and punchy-fresh basil; beets with ricotta and almonds; spicy arugula with aromatic toasted pine nuts, and an open-faced sandwich/salad BLT hybrid, with a sharp lemon-aioli standing in for the Hellmann's and that marvelous pancetta pinch-hitting for the bacon. Charcuterie is a strong suit. Tops was a fantastic dry-cured New York City-made soppressata, courtesy of Great Ciao, the Minneapolis supplier with an uncanny knack for rooting out artisan foods, then importing them to flyover country. Crunchy heirloom garlic cloves packed a deceptively pungent right-hook wallop. There are lovely cheeses too (a remarkable Minnesota-made blue and several beauties from Wisconsin's Carr Valley), all sold in economical two-, three- and four-taste tiers. When the desserts are good - about half the time - they're great. A chocolate trio is just that, three diverse treatments headlined by a wicked molten cake and backed up by a rotating repertoire that swings from delicate tuilles and enticing black-as-night cookies flecked with fleur de sel to a few simple shavings of superb Domori chocolate. Another treat was an ice cream sandwich built with buttery ginger shortbreads triple-layered with made-to-order ice creams from next-door-neighbor Sebastian Joe's. Weekend breakfasts (Pampuch's skin crawls at even a stage-whispered mention of the word brunch) have a deft touch: tender scrambled eggs gussied up with chives and mushrooms, a thick steak with eggs and swell American fries, a sturdy tomato-basil-mozzarella frittata, baked apple French toast, steel-cut oats swimming in thick cream, a ridiculously good hickory-smoked ham and diet-busting cheddar grits with to-die-for sausage gravy made from pork-sage sausages from the extraordinary Clancey's Meats & Fish in Linden Hills. The setting is a major improvement over its predecessor. While it won't make the cover of Metropolis magazine anytime soon, the renovation, presumably done on a skin-tight budget, manages to be comfortable and contemporary. Muted greens and browns are the right replacement for what had been a jarring Technicolor jumble. Furniture is handsome, lighting is flattering. Best of all, by slightly reconfiguring the floor plan, the wide street-side windows - the cramped room's most prized asset - have been put to better advantage. Downsides? During peak hours the dining room often feels chronically - and annoyingly - understaffed. Stretching manpower resources in the kitchen takes its toll, too (the strain can be seen in the bread basket's uneven quality, in unpredictable timing between courses or when Pampuch strays beyond the menu's smart less-is-more model). You'll feel like a loser if you're relegated to one of the tables wedged into the claustrophobic closet-size side room. The cute-as-all-get-out Riedel wine tumblers work well for reds, but I'm not sold on them for whites. Did I mention the deafening peak-hour acoustics? But enough with the caveats already. That's because Corner Table is the kind of neighborhood restaurant anyone would be happy to find, well, right around the corner. . Rick Nelson is at rdnelson@startribune.com. . RESTAURANT REVIEW 3 out of four stars Corner Table Location: 4257 Nicollet Av. S., Minneapolis, 612-823-0011. Hours: Dinner 5 to 10 p.m. Tuesday through Thursday, 5 to 11 p.m. Friday and Saturday. Breakfast 8 a.m. to 2 p.m. Saturday and Sunday. Reservations for six or more only. Atmosphere: Contemporary design on a modest budget. Service: Friendly and knowledgeable but understaffed. Sound level: Noisy when full. Recommended dishes: Menu changes monthly, but beef, lamb and pasta dishes always a good bet. Wine list: Wisely chosen and exceptionally consumer-friendly. Price range: Appetizers and small plates $4-$8, entrees $12-$21, desserts $5-$6. Most breakfast items under $7. Credit cards: V, MC. Smoking: No smoking. Wheelchair accessibility: Entirely accessible. Parking: Nearby free street parking. Children: No special menu but will honor requests. WHAT THE STARS MEAN 4 stars Exceptional 3 stars Highly recommended 2 stars Recommended- 1 star Satisfactory