Cafe Lurcat

P erhaps the most amazing thing about the D’Amico restaurant culture is its ability to foster excellence and maintain consistency long after a restaurant ceases to be buzzworthy. Said a friend about Lurçat on Loring Park: “Lurçat isn’t cool anymore. It’s just good.”

James Beard nominee Isaac Becker was the opening chef years ago and has gone on to almost eclipse the restaurant that brought him to prominence, but in truth Lurçat and Becker’s 112 Eatery are very different experiences, the common denominator being upscale American food that is at once craveable and inventive. I think Café Lurçat is the best combination of upscale trappings, fine service, and accessible food in the Twin Cities. It’s a refined, quasi-luxury experience at a less-than-luxury price. Adam King’s menu has evolved from Becker’s days, but you can always count on a great hanger steak or pot roast. And now that customers can order off the bar menu in the dining room, diners can mix and match a dinner of finger food and beautifully composed plates.

The aforementioned pot roast, elegantly served in a copper pot (à la Tom Colicchio’s Craft), swims in a red wine jus and boasts a perfect moistness and fat-to-lean ratio. The kitchen stays abreast of the seasons: In June, morel mushrooms were on the menu, roasted with cippolini onions, butter, and sprigs of fresh thyme—Midwest spring on a plate. The slider revolution is in full force on the bar menu, which boasts an addictive barbecue chicken version topped with a creamy-sharp slaw and an absolutely amazing pork belly slider with napa cabbage and pickled cucumber—the perfect foil for the fatty but crisp meat.
 
All the details are faultless in the café, from the crisp and yielding baguettes served with whipped soft butter to the wonderful copper serving vessels to one of the best wine selections in the city, much of it available by the glass. Service is attentive, almost savantlike, but never haughty. (“Ketchup? Right away, sir.”) I’ve never cared that much for the main dining room. It has more comfortable seating than in the past, but its modern vibe clashes with the oddly painted walls and artistic flourishes. But the Loring Park view is always enchanting, and unlike nearby Nick and Eddie, Lurçat’s seating looks outside, not inward.

Minneapolis lost a D’Amico restaurant this summer in Campiello—another testament to invention and consistency, but it can take heart in the fact that Bar and Café Lurçat continue to define what makes eating out so pleasurable.
 —A. P.

1624 Harmon Pl., Mpls., 612-486-5500