A pitfall of this line of work is the constant expectation of innovation. Or at least reinvention. So when a tradition-minded restaurant like Blue Point comes along, the knee-jerk response can be to knock it for the very qualities that make it appealing. That would be a mistake.
Owners John and Margaret McDonald have operated their original Blue Point in downtown Wayzata for more than 20 years. Theirs is a success story because they've adhered to a long-term strategy of warm hospitality, tried-and-true food-and-drink and reasonable prices. That the couple are replicating that same business plan in a second location should come as a surprise to no one.
No, Son of Blue Point isn't breaking any new ground. But it's a welcome addition to the neighborhood. The address is best described as quirky, the lobby of one of those vacuous glass office towers that have sprouted at Interstate 494 and France Avenue S. in Bloomington. This particular tower, perched at the edge of an industrial park along the freeway's frontage road, feels a little forlorn, as if it's the initial phase of a development where the later stages were dashed by the real estate collapse. Step inside its vast, impersonal lobby, and the building feels as if it needs the Blue Point a lot more than the Blue Point needs it.
Chef Patrick Donelan, a longtime Blue Point veteran, doesn't concern himself with edgy culinary trends, and isn't one to haunt his vendors for little-known fish species. Instead, his kitchen concentrates on familiar, crowd-pleasing cooking.
The results are often quite appealing. Halibut, an almost iridescent white, was crusted with crunchy pistachios, pan-seared into sigh-inducing succulence and accented with shades-of- autumn yam and pumpkin flavors. A gorgeous slab of terra cotta-colored salmon, so moist and rich it melted in my mouth, its skin blackened to taut crispness, had a just-right smokiness.
Pink, velvety tuna received a not-unexpected Asian treatment, with sesame, tamari and ginger embellishments, but it worked; ditto a similar treatment for grilled mahi mahi. Crab cakes had a marvelous crisp exterior and plenty of sweet crab punch. There's a fine shrimp cocktail, and a nearly foot-long walleye sandwich was distinguished by perfectly fried fish and a bright swipe of coriander-infused aioli.
Unusual choices
Small, admirable details -- a vibrant coleslaw, well-made skin-on French fries, a Caesar that actually tastes like one, a Minnesota rarity -- are often overshadowed by curious choices. Oysters are pristine and lovingly presented, but for a restaurant named for a bivalve, there's a disappointingly paltry selection, just three widely distributed choices. Broiled tomato slices, topped with salmon and a flash of thickly reduced balsamic vinegar, were a sloppy, we're-throwing-our-first-dinner-party way to start a meal.
