Jax Cafe

Of the remaining heritage restaurants in the Twin Cities, Jax Café often seems the most frozen in time. Perhaps it’s because both The Lex and Murray’s still reside in the heart of the action, while Nye’s has become a hipster hotspot, while Jax’s is on a forlorn stretch of NE University. Perhaps it’s the dated logo and neon signage. Perhaps it’s because Jax’s proprietors have opened their own modern dining room, Kozy’s, at the Galleria.

It’s a misimpression, though, as a recent trip to Jax reminded me why it is one of the last of the heritage spots to offer a truly unique dining experience. Many of us forget about Jax’s sunny patio, as appealing as any in town, because it’s hidden from view in the back of the restaurant. Or that the dining room still retains enough classic Rat Pack era touches to keep the Grandma’s-living-room feel at bay. Or maybe it’s the specials menu printed with a wonderful mid-century look and feel. Or perhaps it’s the sassy, veteran servers who know the menu inside and out and treat everyone like regulars.

Jax bills itself as a steak house, but there’s a very large menu, and most of the food is competent, some of it excellent. Jax’s signature crab rolls, basically crab dip between buttery sheets of phyllo, are a decadent delight, as are Cajun shrimp, in a tomatoey butter sauce that demands bread to mop it up. (Jax’s bread and rolls are of that soft retro variety that won’t win awards but are perfect for this food.) Crab cakes were credible, but not up to the standard of most of the town’s steak houses. A classic Caesar salad came perfectly dressed, with a balanced garlicky dressing.

The restaurant handles meat very nicely—lamb chops, pork chops, and a bone-in filet mignon were all perfectly cooked, the pork blackened but not burnt, the lamb chops on the mild side. The bone-in filet doesn’t get you all the way to ribeye levels of beefiness, but is a nice middle ground for smaller appetites and diners who don’t like to deal with fat.

Jax’s hash browns are some of the best in town, buttery, with a nice ratio of crisp to soft. Why Jax still cooks baked potatoes in foil, I can’t explain, but it’s one Rat Pack-era trapping that did not deserve to make it to the twenty-first century (The foil causes the potatoes to steam, resulting in textureless skin and mealy flesh.).

A Key lime cheesecake at meal’s end was a tart closer, but desserts don’t seem to be the restaurant’s calling card. Jax’s wine list is not going to rock your world, but its perfect martini just might.

If you’ve left Jax off your dining circuit because you see it as your parents’ or grandparents’ restaurant, well it is, but mostly in those great retro touches and trappings of an era when hospitality seemed more genuine. Where it isn’t, though, is that Jax’s food, more often than not, is classic but up-to-date—ingredients are respected, modern preferences taken into account. And because it’s out of the way for most of us, a meal at Jax just feels special. And it is.

1928 University Ave. NE, Mpls., 612-789-7297