True confessions: I was one pasta salad away from never returning to the D'Amico-run restaurant at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts.
For nearly eight years, the Twin Cities' most accomplished culinary empire has been operating a branch of its popular D'Amico & Sons chain inside the museum, and it was all very competent and affordable. And boring. Someone at the company must have read my mind (yes, it's truly all about me) because late last year, the lunch-only cafe received a much-needed overhaul.
This finicky diner approves. The familiar space overlooking the lobby was bestowed with an appropriate new name -- Mezzanine. D'Amico & Sons executive chef Jim Weides has crafted a lighter, fresher and less-Italian menu. His efforts show how moderate prices and an emphasis on appearance are as well matched as Monet and haystacks.
It's awfully nice to encounter a salad that doesn't appear to have been prepared in a commissary kitchen halfway across town. Shrimp, avocado and hearts of palm are pressed into an eye-catching timbale, their complementary flavors and textures as compelling as the color palette.
It's a mostly anti-formulaic format. While there isn't a Caesar in sight, the D'Amicos can't escape the unwritten rule requiring a chicken salad at a museum cafe. Fortunately, the Mezzanine version is as lovely as it is enormous, a free-form toss of tender meat, juicy strawberries, tangy chèvre and a pretty assortment of flavorful lettuces, all dressed with liberal splashes of vincotto.
The kitchen's grill gets a workout, starting with a pair of sliders. The beef version sports thick patties that take on a flavorful char before being topped by a slice of melting Gouda and bright green butter lettuce. Even the toasted bun is a winner. The vegetarian version mixes black beans, rice and sweet corn into a soft, well-seasoned patty, then tops it with a feisty pico de gallo. These two easily rank near the top of the heap.
Rather than pizzas, Mezzanine goes the flatbread route, finishing oval-shaped, par-baked pizza crusts on the grill, a technique that imbues them with a winningly crisp, slightly smoky flavor. When it comes to toppings, the more-is-more results are uneven. A riff on the BLT boasts generous slices of applewood smoked bacon, but the tomatoes are flavorless embarrassments. Better to stick with the can't-miss pairing of caramelized onions, grilled chicken and spinach, or roasted poblano peppers, shrimp and feta.
Sandwiches include a terrific ham panini dressed with a tangy apricot mustard and a hearty salmon salad, each bite lightened by crunchy celery, salty capers and plenty of dill. Weides keeps it simple by offering a single formal entree: a slab of pan-roasted salmon, the skin wonderfully crisp, the flesh moist and succulent. It was originally paired with couscous and topped with a vibrant red pepper coulis, and it made for a marvelous and surprisingly elegant lunch. Now, the couscous has been subbed out by more generic roasted vegetables and a cool Greek yogurt-cucumber-dill sauce. I miss the former, but the latter is growing on me, partly because it's a spot-on example of making a special for just $12.50, a noteworthy value.
