Eat The Menu: Use It or Lose It

Business was slow … too slow to maintain, announced owner/patron Gavin Kaysen to his roster of customers at Spoon and Stable, his longtime (since 2014), Beard-noted restaurant in the North Loop. Maybe it was time to say goodbye?

As Minnesotans do, we rallied. On a recent Monday evening, the place, once again, was packed. A pleasant hum of conversation floated over the booths and tables in the historic setting as servers — some of the premier in town — did what they do best: treat every single table as if they’re visiting royalty (but in a chummy way.)

Almost as soon as we were seated, out came a complimentary amuse bouche: a pair of arancini (rice balls), invitingly crisp-crusted and still warm from the deep-fryer. Then, a loaf-let of wheat-forward bread, on the house (who else does that, these days?) to salve our hunger as we scanned the approachable wine list (an easy-going and non-cloying rosé did the trick).

This winter’s menu leads off with a short, five-item list of starters ($18-23, oysters excluded): oysters to wonton soup, Hamachi crudo to a red oak salad, and our choice, the bison tartare to share. The medium-grind of red meat provided a burst of sweet, true, juicy flavor, accented by a pop of harissa aioli, circlets of sweet radish and paper-thin crackers on which to spread the petite mound. Off to a good start: simple, no hot-dog tricks and supremely tasty.

Next, we scanned the short list of heritage-grain pastas (starter size portions $20-29, or make it your entree). My choice: the husky raviolo — a pasta pocket timed to ensure plenty of bite, plump with spinach, egg yolk, mushroom ragu, chestnuts and a Swiss-like Alpine Ridge cheese. Rich, rich, rich — and that’s just fine with me on this blustery evening. Smooth and well-conceived. I could have gone home happy.

But no! Then I would have missed sharing my pal’s order of spaghetti nero, inky with squid and attended by a sweet prawn, just-as-sweet mussels and a beguilingly peppery Fra Diavolo red sauce to lace through the strands of pasta.

On to the sextet of mains, $38-48, with a ribeye as the sole representative of beef. (And that’s just fine. Go eat in the adjoining bar if you crave a burger.) We shared two entrees, leading off with my rack of lamb, ordered medium-rare and delivered spot-on, its yielding flesh come-hither pink and juicy, sweet and tender as one dreams of, attended by a golf ball of kibbeh (which seemed an unnecessary accessory), along with sweet sultana raisins, chickpeas and a squirt of lime. It delivered on its promise, which (to me) was comfort food done in an immaculate but understated fashion. Lovely indeed, sans extraneous bells and whistles — well, except that kibbeh.

My friend’s snapper arrived in a tom yum broth, assisted by sticky rice, kaffir lime and Thai chili to awaken its mild demeanor. Bok choi and lotus root added crunch and filled out the Asian theme. Next time: the duck breast with wild rice, pickled black currant, duck heart and offal broth. (Don’t let those often-discarded ingredients put you off; they simply enrich the offering.) Or the pork chop in tamarind glaze with yucca, green papaya slaw and chili vinaigrette. Add french fries (the mountain heaped on a passing platter looked both formidable and wonderful), carrots or spinach if you choose ($14 each).

Instead, we chose to share a dessert ($17). What, what, what? The chocolate cannoli? Toffee butter cake? Chocolate pudding? Honey and cream cake? All sound like winners, including our selection. We summoned the lime leaf Pavlova, composed of a sweet but not cloying, hard but not brittle, meringue, a teaspoon-scoop of smooth and lively ginger ice cream, coconut tapioca and bits of sweet, so-juicy clementines. Good, but not life-changing. But (spoiler alert) along with the bill comes a presentation of complimentary sweets to end the evening — bits of brownie, a square of fruity gelatine, a plump macaron and more. Nice touch, indeed, and a lovely, lasting memory.

The room remained full. By setting the standard for easily-recognized comfort food, given the kitchen’s educated twists here and there to keep diners’ attention focused, guests seemed in no hurry to break the spell. And that’s the highest compliment a restaurant can boast.

Excuse me a minute: While I am typing out these thoughts, I just received an email asking me how my dining experience had been. They actually care. And I’ll be back.

Spoon and Stable
211 N. First St., Minneapolis
(612) 224-9852
spoonandstable.com

P.S. While many of us are once again dining whenever and wherever we choose, many of our immigrant neighbors aren’t currently able to support their neighborhood, immigrant-owned cafes, as they’ve done in the past. My condo building has arranged to visit one of these “endangered” cafes each week to help keep them in business. If you wish to do the same, you can easily locate cafes in need of support by Googling “Cafes on Central Avenue” or “Cafes on Lake Street,” for example. Last visit, I enjoyed my first camel taco. The week before, a yummy empanada.