Tao Natural Foods: the all-organic diner

A recent breakfast at Tao Natural Foods recalled a sage observation made by my high school art teacher. We were discussing the seemingly simplistic aspects of Minimalist painter Ellsworth Kelly's work, and a classmate quipped, "I could have done that." Mr. Beehler rolled his eyes. "The point is, you didn't," he said.

All-organic Tao (pronounced dow) isn't exactly a beacon of culinary innovation. But it's not trying to be, either. The restaurant, part of a larger natural health foods and wellness operation that dates back to 1971, is more the equivalent of a vegetarian/vegan short-order diner. It fills a niche, and, in many cases, does what it does very well.

Just looking at the fetching breakfast parfait made me feel healthier: the sour tang of rich whole-milk yogurt against the genial sweetness of apples, soft banana vs. crunchy granola, bright blueberries next to pale green kiwi fruit. I'm not much of an oatmeal person, but Tao's tasty version -- fortified with flax, millet and sunflower seeds -- could make me a convert. The breakfast sandwich starts with a hearty multigrain bread before being piled high with avocado, Cheddar, a remarkably juicy tomato and a fried egg. Nice, and even better with a side of an impressively fresh salsa.

My love affair with the kitchen's creamy-yet-chunky guacamole started with its breakfast burrito, which is crammed with toothy black beans, rice, scrambled eggs and that marvelous salsa. Tender, lightly toasted waffles, made with what sounds like every grain and nut in the bulk-foods aisle at the co-op, are dressed with a pleasant combination of walnuts and a dark maple syrup.

Yes, I will admit to stifling a snotty little smirk when an earnest and utilitarian-looking plate of rice and steamed vegetables was placed in front of me. But with each virtuous forkful, the short-grain brown rice began to reveal winning attributes: semi-crunchy, sort of nutty, slightly sticky and sneakily delicious. Ditto the cauliflower, broccoli, kale, cabbage and other nourishing if standard-issue vegetables, ramped up by a take-no-prisoners hot sauce and a splash of sesame oil. There are about a dozen sandwiches, ranging from a decent tempeh Reuben to a terrific grilled Rachel, stuffed with thick slices of Minnesota-raised turkey.

The juice bar's colorful concoctions, which overflow with brash, satisfying flavors, are another major draw. The coffee and tea selections are first-rate, and creative daily specials shake up the routine; kudos to a pair of delicate buckwheat crepes, rolled around the complementary blend of rosemary-scented roasted potatoes, chewy kale and sweet red peppers. Basic but scrupulously sourced leafy green salads are finished with the house's wonderfully vibrant tahini-sesame dressing.

The small, ever-shifting selection of gently sweet muffins, scones and sweet breads are frequently both good and good for you, a rare combination. But the ponderousness that can accompany flax, wheat germ and other fiber-filled sweets isn't entirely absent. The tempting-looking gluten-free cookies boast all the right flavor components, but the texture is less than ideal.

Tao can be overpriced. There, I said it. I'm semi-addicted to the egg salad sandwich, with its creamy, super-golden yolks, but nine dollars is a lot to ask. Another Tao highlight, the hefty burrito packed with sweet potatoes, black beans, guacamole and a tangy garlic-yogurt sauce, feels expensive at $9.25. But something's got to foot the bill for Tao's recent remodel, right?

A large number of patio seats spill out on the sidewalk, taking full advantage of one of those irregular green spaces that dot Hennepin Avenue. Seemingly overnight, the restaurant has the street presence that it strangely never had. Tao has been granted a new lease on life, and I'll raise a glass of organically farmed pinot gris to that.