Tryg’s

Coping with change isn’t easy. Even for a stunning, freestanding, design- and architecture-award–winning restaurant that enjoyed one of 2005’s splashier openings. With its prime location perched on the edge of Lake Calhoun, a state-of-the-art kitchen, and a management team with experience measured in decades, you would think Tryg’s could navigate effortlessly past the rocky shoals where many restaurants founder. Think again.

Replacing a chef and reestablishing a culinary identity is hard. Tryg’s has tried doing it twice. Philip Dorwart, who opened Tryg’s, left in the restaurant’s second year. At the time, both he and owner Tryg Truelson cited irreconcilable differences, so sous chef Justin Frederick took over the kitchen. Several months later, he too was gone, reappearing last year behind the stove at the appealing Grand Café. Today, Tryg’s location, vibrant design, and ownership group has not changed, but the restaurant is dimmer, locked into a culinary holding pattern epitomized by a menu of safe-harbor standards, a grand restaurant waiting for a vision.

The best items at Tryg’s continue to come off the wood-burning rotisserie, and the homey pork roast is a winner, but I do miss the brandade, the orange-scented roasted duck, and the cinnamon-basted chicken from the Dorwart days. I don’t miss the cubes of goat cheese in tomato dust.

Over the months, Truelson’s customers were vocal about their wishes. They wanted more Redstone and less Cosmos. Enter a very competent grilled flatbread (pizza), simple plates of fish, lots of sandwiches, and a dessert menu of burnt creams and chocolate mousses. Whether sitting in the dining room’s deep circular booths or at the bar, Tryg’s is a nice place to grab a comfy bite, listen to music (live at brunch), and dive into some deviled eggs and a nicely turned-out plate of fish and chips, but Truelson wants more. “The last six months have been a challenge,” he says. “We’re still looking for a chef.”

After the flush of newness wore off, Tryg’s sought to satisfy its regular customer base, which did not value the chef’s creativity and flights of whimsy. Today, Truelson is looking for someone to execute from a playbook that he knows will work for his audience, not a chef’s personal aesthetic. He wants to serve easygoing chophouse fare, from scratch, with just enough pizzazz to separate his product from the competition. Easier said than done.

Young chefs hoping to make a mark want to create, not replicate. Established kitchen types have already developed a style and don’t want to adapt. So Tryg keeps looking. 

3118 W. Lake St., Mpls., 612-920-7777