Eat The Menu: Charlie’s Next Chapter

“You Can’t Go Home Again,” Thomas Wolfe warned his readers in his so-named 1940 novel. But here in Minneapolis, fans of long-shuttered Charlie’s Café Exceptionale, which ruled the fine-dining scene from 1933 to 1982, are convinced that yes, indeed, you can.

A version of Charlie’s, complete with original backbar, is alive and well in downtown’s Minneapolis Club, serving dinner to the public Tuesdays through Fridays just four blocks from the restaurant’s original site. That’s all it took to spur me to reserve a table and see what’s what.

Don’t count on first impressions — the room will not blow you away. It’s like eating in, say, the function room of a neighborhood church, where décor is an afterthought. We were seated next to a big, black radiator. (If you don’t know that that is, ask your granny.) Bright lighting, no carpeting: little one might construe as “ambience.” But then, maybe business deals rather than romantic trysts are what’s brewing here, amid the four occupied tables of our visit. Not quite the “1930s charm” we’d been promised.

Back in the day, Charlie’s featured seven different treatments of lobster on its menu (for an astounding $3.75). This evening’s Surf, Surf, and Surf entrée ran to $38, but we’ll get to that in a minute. First, a cocktail. For me, an Old Fashioned starring Elijah Craig bourbon ($13) — just fine, and for my pal, a clever NA concoction lush with fruit ($9).

Trolling the appetizer list ($12-18), which ranges from a classic shrimp cocktail to grilled peach with burrata, we pounced on an order of BBQ shrimp and grits. What it lacked in presentation — all piled into a small, dark bowl rather than layered on a platter to allow those cheddary grits to shine — it made up for in flavor. Though I’d prefer my grits even cheesier (and not from a box), they played nice with their husky topping of sweet, bouncy shrimp in cahoots with bits of hearty andouille sausage, tomato and robustly-seasoned sweet corn.

On to the Soup and Salad list. We chose the Classic Caesar — always a good test of what a kitchen’s up to. In this case, not much. It produced a plate of tamed-into-annihilation romaine rather than the robust, muscular leaves the recipe deserves. Nice shavings of Parm floated atop the greens (well, chartreuses is a better descriptor here), along with a toss of burnt-black croutons. (When I mentioned those to our server, she agreed they were “a little crispy.”)

On to entrees, ranging from a $20 bowl of grains to $70 for a full pound of wagyu ribeye. My pal voted for the seven-ounce filet mignon ($42), which delivered a sweet, true-tasting, tender and near-rare (as requested) hunk-o-beef that went down just fine. Its plate pals included honey-roasted (but not long enough — still formidably chewy) carrots and potatoes in a red wine demi.

My Surf trio ($38) contained a marshmallow-sized scallop — sweet as all get-out and just briefly seared; a small chunk of fresh salmon on the dry side; and a pancake-flat crab cake sans excessive, bready filler: points for all three, and the simple Meyer lemon butter sauce that didn’t hide the seafood’s flavor. Plus the usual mixed-veg toss.

Or choose gnocchi in Bolognese sauce, chicken Pad Thai, barramundi with green tea risotto or the “braised short rib cudgel,” which I’d readily devour for the description alone, if only it didn’t cost $42.

No dessert for us tonight, sorry. The roll-call of all-homemade treats includes a s’mores budino featuring dark chocolate pudding, a carroty panna cotta, a banana cream pie and more ($10-13).

Lunch is a members-only event. Fortunately, I received an invitation from a friend and experienced a different dining scene altogether: tables full, lots of chatter and a delightful salad-cum-sandwich experience.

220 S. Eighth St.
(612) 332-2292
mplsclub.org/charlies

Esther’s Table

A “Who knew?” discovery to share: Inside the Sheraton Hotel at 1313 Nicollet Mall resides a sweet, upbeat dining destination (Hello, Orchestra Hall concertgoers, downtown Target shoppers) called Esther’s Table.

The chic, black-and-white space provided a sweet dining destination on a recent chilly evening. Starters range from wine-braised bison meatballs to fries with truffle aioli, plus my choice: a quartet of walleye croquettes, big as tennis balls and bursting with far more of that delicate fish than bready filler, all accented by a suave tarragon mayo sauce.

Off to a good start!

Next, a sumptuous Caesar salad, rich with a well-made dressing and loaded with huge, just-lightly-fried and supremely airy, house-made croutons. (Never before have I composed an Ode to Croutons, but these babes deserve it.)

Then, what to choose: Sandwiches? Burgers? Pasta preps? Or how about the roast salmon ($34)? Fine, I’ll go with that.

But here’s where my luck ran out. The fish, ordered rare, arrived cooked to medium. Its accompanying veggies — dots of squash and kale — were not just room temp, but cold, and the advertised polenta came in the form of a firm pancake rather than a creamy puddle. Yet my excellent young server made up for any lapses in the kitchen — a cheerleading foodie, from delivering my excellent Buffalo Trace Old Fashioned to offering a list of house-made desserts. I’ll be back.