Last winter's fire gave Blackbird Cafe a change of scenery. After shaking the ashes from their shoes, owners Gail Mollner and Chris Stevens have carefully shepherded their collection of approachable recipes, staff members and ideas to an airier and less garage-sale chic space at 3800 Nicollet Av. in south Minneapolis.

As before, the kitchen is steered by Stevens, who continues to serve up a mosaic of iconic dishes from around the country and the globe. The menu changes seasonally, but don't be surprised to see fried chicken and house-made pasta stand proudly next to a walleye po' boy ($13), made with fish straight from the Red Lake Indian Reservation. Even the beer list has something for everyone, from regional favorites such as Lift Bridge, Bell's and Furthermore to go-to brews such as Guinness and PBR.

The café still boasts a staggering list of sandwiches, including a banh mi ($11). This Vietnamese sandwich has become a sort of requisite menu item in upscale Twin Cities cafes, but Blackbird serves a particularly rich one. The pork and paté portion is so soft and thick, so salty and sweet, that you almost forget it's meat and not a magic, mind-altering spread. Served on a soft, buttery ciabatta bun from New French Bakery, it is luscious.

There's a sandwich for almost every protein, including a respectable fried-egg one. The Longhorn ($11) is also great: braised beef, sweetly accented by caramelized onions and the twang of tomato. However, the café's breakfast version of a Monte Cristo ($10) is disappointing. Ham and eggs and tooth-aching marmalade are bookended with French toast that's too floppy and bland to hold it together. In fact, the sandwich is upstaged by the creamy-on-the-inside hash browns that are served with it.

The spicy peanut noodles ($10) are an excellent choice, with a sauce that is creamy and gutsy with heat. The sauce coats a big fat tangle of udon (thick, spaghetti-like wheat noodles), baby bok choy and your choice of protein. The quality and punch of this Japanese-inspired dish is impressive on a menu that can seem a little far-flung.

Blackbird offers a lengthy list of sides and small plates. From empanadas ($7) to lamb nachos ($12), the spectrum is somewhat baffling, but it supports the café's way of loving many different regions and cuisines. The truffled gnocchi ($9) is melty and aromatic, and the celery-brie soup's ($4.50 or $6) pleasant funkiness is surprising, but might not be worth the risk of tepidity (I was told the soup is too delicate to keep at a high temperature).

Blackbird still impresses most indelibly with its genuine floor staff, and a new, airy pastel vibe that is often scarce in the wood-paneled and snow-beleaguered Midwest. When you've been waiting for a table for an hour and your server-to-be stops by to gently assure you that her section will be open soon, your heart can't help but swell a little. Take a seat at the long, clean bar and be cool; Blackbird is here to take care of you, once again.