Minneapolis eats, 2014 edition.

Today’s Klawchat came a day earlier than normal to accommodate my travel schedule. I’ve already filed my Soria trade reaction post.

I didn’t get to try nearly as many places as I wanted to hit in Minneapolis, since I had the family in tow and was a little limited by actual work. We also all overate so much at Tilia, in Linden Hills, for lunch on Monday that no one wanted an actual dinner that night.

Tilia’s menu changes often and features more small plates than entrees, so, with a group of four adults and four kids, we went mostly for the former. The first start was the braised pork belly, finished with a sweet glaze and I assume roasted at high temperature to brown the exterior; that’s just so not good for you but one of the greatest pleasures of the meet world thanks to the texture of pork belly fat. The roasted Brussels sprouts were the other star, featuring “ham” (not just ordinary country ham though – some sort of dry-cured variety instead) and walnuts as well as a very lightly applied sweet/tangy balsamic glaze. The grilled chicken thighs came with diced chorizo, pickled pineapple, & black bean-Oaxaca cheese fondue; I actually would have been happy with a plate just of the accompaniements, like a bowl of that chorizo served over a little rice, as the chicken was well-prepared but a bit light on the seasoning. The grilled shrimp plate came with fresh English peas, grilled scallions, and a “spicy” (highly flavored, but not hot) sauce, but the general sense around the table was that it was just okay.

The flat bread starter with olive oil and dukkah (an Egyptian spice blend that often includes seeds and nuts, here with slivered almonds) is a must, and the French fries with a mayo/ketchup style fry sauce were a big hit with the kids. I didn’t try the fish taco torta, but the friend who tried it raved, and it looked ridiculous with an enormous piece of fried fish (I think the server said mahi-mahi, although that’s not frequently deep-fried) on a telera-style roll. The only miss was the “chicken liver BLT,” mostly because the bread had an off taste to it, like it was made with too-sour buttermilk or sour cream, but also because there was no bacon involved, despite the name. The server, whom I might have mentioned looked quite a bit like Anna Friel (this is a good thing), ended up taking the charge off the bill even though I didn’t ask her to do so.

A reader of mine invited me last year to visit Saffron, where he worked in the kitchen at the time, so that was my first stop on this trip. Saffron offers eastern Mediterranean food, mostly straight-up, including some of the chef’s family recipes – like the slow-cooked green beans with tomatoes, good enough that we ordered a second dish of them to pair with the hummus and warm pitas (that was our server’s suggestion). I think the fried cauliflower was the best of the mezze (small plates) we ordered, with a thin crispy coating along with a moderately spicy harissa mixture and a thick sheep’s milk fondue for dipping. The grilled octopus a la plancha was my least favorite starter, but then again I’m not sure I’ve ever had an octopus dish I really loved because the meat is always tough, the result of cooking something with a very high protein content but little fat. The grilled kofta meatballs with a spicy tomato sauce were the hottest thing we ordered, so the kids didn’t enjoy them but the adults inhaled them; they’re denser than Italian meatballs (at least good ones), but the salt and spice were perfect with alcohol, such as the house negroni I ordered.

Two of the three larger plates we ordered were huge hits. The gnocchi were spectacular, pan-seared, soft and light inside, served with a panoply of herbs and spring/summer vegetables. The roast chicken was among the best I’ve ever had, perfectly crisped but incredibly moist and juicy on the inside, pulled from the oven at just the right moment. The chicken comes with a giant lavash wrapped around steaming-hot roasted vegetables, which were well-cooked but underseasoned. However, the chicken “bisteeya” was a little too odd for me – an aromatic saffron-stewed chicken & almond pie, wrapped in a phyllo pastry and dusted with cinnamon sugar. I don’t mind savory applications of cinnamon at all, but the overt presence of the sugar turned my palate to dessert mode, after which it’s not so receptive to meat. We didn’t have room for dessert, as with Tilia.

At Target Field, I only had time for a quick stop at the Butcher & Boar stand for the BBQ rib tips, which were delicious, with a sweet/smoky sauce and good tooth to the meat, as well as very, very messy. It wasn’t really a full meal – I love meat, but generally in concert with something not-meat at the same time, perhaps a plant of some sort – but I wouldn’t be able to walk past that stand again without stopping for another serving.

While we did one breakfast at Hell’s Kitchen, because I love their cornmeal waffles and our friends in town (and their kids) like the lemon ricotta pancakes, we had breakfast two other mornings at Blackbird, a very cute corner coffee shop with a lot of local ingredients across the menu. I ended up getting the same thing twice because it was so good – their norske scrambler, with house-smoked salmon and crème fraiche, alongside these almost-perfect hash browns (really crispy exterior, soft interior, just a little bit greasy) and toast made from Patisserie 46 breads. I tried the sweet potato biscuit, which, shockingly, tasted like a sweet potato in biscuit form – a good idea but too dense for me. They brew coffee from local small-batch roasters B&W, with bagged high-end teas from Tea Forte, both good options for your caffeine intake.

Finally, I managed to try an espresso from Dogwood Coffee Company, which appears to be the best artisan roaster in the Twin Cities, with a late-night run to Urban Bean Coffee at Lyndale and west 24th street. It’s small and simple, just expertly prepared coffees, and Dogwood’s Neon espresso beans (a blend of Colombian and Brazilian coffees) produce a shot with great body and sweet-tart berry notes.

Readers offered many, many suggestions of other places to try that I just didn’t have the time or opportunity to reach. Chris Crawford checked out the Bachelor Farmer and raved about it. Travail was closed that week. I didn’t make the Butcher & Boar, Brasa, 112 Eatery, Bar La Grassa, Sparks, or Coup d’Etat. We stopped by George & the Dragon again (hi, Fred!) for beer and a few small plates in lieu of dinner a few hours after the Tilia extravaganza, and one of these trips I’ll have a proper meal there. I do appreciate all the recommendations you offered. Now I just need the Gophers to bust out a junior lefty throwing 95 next year.

Plenty.

I’m not a vegetarian – I like bacon way too much to be so crazy, and duck confit too for that matter, and sushi, so really this isn’t going to work out – but I do believe in eating less meat as part of our overall diets. It’s better for the planet, and it’s better for the wallet, even if you choose, as I do, to spend some of the savings on buying better-quality meat, like grass-fed beef, wild-caught fish, or organic chicken. It’s probably better for your health as well, although I think that’s still up in the air. The problem is that a diet based around meat is pretty easy to plan and prepare – most meats can be marinated and grilled, or brined and roasted, or even pan-seared with a quick sauce, without a ton of active work. If you want to eat more vegetables, either with or in place of meat, you need more time and more creativity to make them taste better and fill the void left on the plate by the reduction in animal proteins. Yotam Ottolenghi’s Plenty: Vibrant Recipes from London’s Ottolenghi, a book of vegetarian recipes written by a chef who eats and cooks with meat, has filled a critical hole in my bookshelf.

Ottolenghi was born in Israel, trained as a chef in London and operates one restaurant, Nopi, and four shops in that city. His food is heavily Mediterranean, although it has strong Turkish, Italian, and Arab roots as well as the obvious Israeli influences, and at the same time grabs from other cuisines around the world, often crossing boundaries – such as his insistence that cilantro has a place in dishes that are fundamentally Italian. Plenty brings that sensibility together with the idea that a vegetable can be the star of the show, filling its pages with potential main courses and luxurious side dishes across the spectrum of vegetables, even stretching into pulses and grains before the book concludes.

I’ve tried a half-dozen recipes from Plenty so far, with broad success overall. The hits included zucchini and hazelnut salad with parmiggiano-reggiano; stuffed zucchini with rice; mushroom ragout with croutons and poached eggs; roasted sweet potato wedges; and caramelized endive with Gruyère, although that latter one suffered slightly from the way the cheese melted right off the endive halves in the oven. In general, Ottolenghi uses every non-meat tool available to boost the flavor of vegetables and make them more suitable for the central role on a vegetarian plate, including spices, herbs, acids, sharp cheeses, yogurt, crème fraiche, and the occasional runny egg. The resulting dishes burst with strong yet balanced flavors and are bright and appealing on the plate, with most recipes within reach of a moderately skilled home chef. The one disappointment, lentil galettes with a lemon-yogurt dressing, wasn’t bad, but even with all of the spices and herbs included in the mix, you’re still left with a plate of lentils, just nicely seasoned ones. Every recipe I tried was clear enough to make substituting ingredients (e.g., swapping out pine nuts because my daughter is allergic to them) simple.

The drawback to Plenty is that the instructions for several recipes don’t seem to have been tested on home stoves. When the text says “simmer gently,” what they actually seem to mean is “boil.” Oven cooking times all seemed too short, even with a thoroughly preheated oven. The book also includes volumetric measurements when weights would be more accurate. It’s a better cookbook for someone with a little more home cooking experience than a beginner would have, but if you’re like me and want to find new ways to get vegetables into your diet, whether as side dishes or as main courses, it’s perfect.

So here’s my take on Plenty‘s stuffed zucchini recipe, tweaking some of the ingredients to suit our tastes and allergies. Removing them from the pan after 40 minutes of cooking was a little tricky because I used very long zucchini, so look for short, wide fruit that will allow you to stuff them without requiring an engineering degree to extract them once they’re done.

Stuffed zucchini
Adapted from Yotam Ottolenghi’s Plenty

1 medium onion, finely chopped
1 tbsp olive oil
2/3 cup short-grain rice
2 tbsp chopped pecans
2 tbsp minced parsley
½ tsp dried thyme
½ tsp ground cumin
½ tsp ground coriander
¼ tsp ground allspice
3 Tbsp lemon juice
2 wide zucchini, sliced lengthwise
¾ cup boiling water
1½ tsp sugar
1 tsp toasted sesame seeds
about 1 oz Pecorino Romano
salt and black pepper

1. Saute the onion in the oil until translucent but not brown. Add the next seven ingredients, a pinch of salt, plus 2 Tbsp of the lemon juice and cook on low to medium-low heat for five minutes, stirring to avoid sticking, until highly fragrant.

2. Use a spoon to scoop out the centers of the zucchini for stuffing. Place them in a shallow but wide saute pan that is large enough to fit all the zucchini. (You can use more zucchini if they’re small enough to fit in the pan.) Fill them with the rice-onion mixture. Pour the boiling water, sugar, a pinch of salt, and the last tablespoon of lemon juice around the zucchini (but not on top yet).

3. Cover and cook at an active simmer for 30-40 minutes, basting with the cooking liquid several times to allow the rice to cook. They’re ready when the rice is al dente.

4. Plenty suggests serving these cold with yogurt as a sauce, but I liked these hot, topped with sesame seeds, freshly ground black pepper, and shaved Pecorino Romano.

Note: Thicker grains of rice may require more cooking time, so you might parcook them about ten minutes to get them soft before adding to the remainder of the stuffing ingredients. I’d also recommend the same if you wish to use brown rice, although that might require even more pre-cooking.