Dining: La Grassa is simply the best

The placemat-sized menu in front of me boasted 51 dishes. Seriously, I counted.

But here's the thing: At Bar La Grassa, the collaboration between the husband-and-wife team of Isaac Becker and Nancy St. Pierre (112 Eatery) and their buddy Josh Thoma (La Belle Vie, Solera and Barrio), I didn't so much as flinch. Maybe that's because Becker corrals his kitchen's considerable riches into three easier-to-absorb categories: antipasti, bruschetta, pasta and meats/fish. Overwhelming? No. Adventure-in-the-making? Oh, yeah.

Here's where to start: tender scrambled eggs, luxuriously flecked with thumbnail-sized bits of succulent lobster and spooned over thickly sliced grilled bread. "It's like heaven on toast," sighed my friend. Now that I know Becker's secret -- it's a 50-50 ratio of eggs to cream cheese -- I've been spoiled for anything less. Eight other bruschettas are also topped with all manner of deliciousness.

Becker & Co. fully embrace the art of restraint. Asceticism is no easy feat, since there's nothing to hide behind, no tricks to fall back upon. You've either got it or you don't, and Bar La Grassa has got it. I also appreciate how Becker isn't painstakingly locked into attempting to replicate the traditions of an Umbria, or a Sicily. His is a more personal -- and, yes, simple -- expression.

Becker dares to fill lovely half-moon-shaped tarts, their pastry light and flaky, with smooth, sweet ricotta and nothing else. First it was halibut, then it was barramundi, and currently it's paper-thin slices of striped bass, cured in lime juice, drizzled with fiery Italian chile-infused oil and finished with cilantro, preserved lemon and pepitos, each nibble a cool-hot treat.

A thick slab of his divine molded chicken/foie gras/pork loaf, served straight up, couldn't be more appealing. Ditto the rest of the exceptional charcuterie. Chef Erik Sather's handiwork -- a boldly flavored pork cheek terrine, a slice of porchetta spiraled with a frisky cumin-paprika paste and a disk of creamy, gloriously fatty mortadella -- are served on a single platter, and it constitutes some of the Twin Cities' most notable edibles.

The eight dry pasta selections demonstrate how factory-made pasta is no second-class citizen. Fusilli with hearty house-made pork sausage, gorgeous sushi-grade tuna kissed with a chile-garlic purée and spooned over calamari-shaped rings, fork-pulled pieces of ultra-tender chicken tossed with shorter, wider rigatoni, it's all good, and most are served in both half- and full-sized portions. My favorite just might be the most basic: spaghetti cooked in Chianti until it takes on grape flavor and color undertones, then tossed with a bit of garlic, Parmesan and toasted pine nuts; what a truly fabulous way to drop five bucks.

It's no secret that restaurants are highly collaborative enterprises, but few literally lay that out as clearly -- and as joyously -- as Bar La Grassa. We may not all find ourselves employed in similarly energizing environments, but at least we can dine in one.