Head to dinner at the North Loop's newest fine dining establishment without an address scribbled down, and there's an excellent chance you'll miss it. With little in the way of signage, at first glance the Bachelor Farmer seems more like a chic, invite-only speakeasy than your standard Minnesota eatery.
The menu is packed with well-executed Scandinavian standards with a modern spin. It's split into appetizers, toasts, entrees, sides and desserts.
What better way to start a meal at a Scandinavian-style restaurant than with lox? The Bachelor Farmer version is cured in-house to great effect: silky texture and buttery, dill-tinged flavor. The accompanying scrambled eggs were topped with a potent mixture of herbs and onions that broke up the richness of the eggs and lox.
If you're looking for a flavor bomb, get the appetizer of grilled sausage, lefse, pickled beets and grain mustard ($10). The sausage is packed with spices, which plays nicely with the tang of the beets and the spice of the mustard, and the lefse makes an excellent, flavor-neutral vehicle to carry the otherwise volatile flavors.
By virtue of a charming little rack of toast, the substantial appetizer or light-meal toast options were reasonably filling. The gravlax, sweet mustard and cucumber ($13) was a nice take on a classic, featuring spot-on, lightly pickled cuke slices and house-cured gravlax. A rather tangy, country-style mustard offered a not unwelcome, rustic spin on the smooth, sweet stuff often served with gravlax.
If you've had as many mediocre meatballs as I have, you may be tempted to skip the Bachelor Farmer's version of the traditional Swedish workhorse in favor of something more, well, exciting. Do so at your own peril, as these meatballs are easily some of the best we've had: meaty, flavorful and pleasantly salty, drizzled in a refreshingly functional brown gravy devoid of any dull, corn starch-imbued sheen. Add a bit of silky mashed potatoes, crispy pickled cucumber slices, and lingonberry sauce, and you've constructed a bite made in heaven. The dish's only downfall? The lingonsosa could retain more of the berries' original tartness.
Packed stomachs aside, the desserts are, believe it or not, worth it as well. The Swedish pancakes ($6) are a well-done rendition, with a small, cylindrical stack of the traditional light, thin-as-a-crepe pancakes, a small dollop of lingonberry and a small scoop of ice cream (in case you didn't pick up on the "small" theme, this dessert is perfect for one, but probably too small for sharing).
Between the solid food, chic yet down-to-earth atmosphere, and friendly, attentive service, it's clear that the Bachelor Farmer is a worthy visit. Just make sure you write down the address.
