Steve Brown is back!

BY CARLA WALDEMAR

Tilia
2726 W. 43rd St.
612-354-2806

Steven Brown is a rock star among local foodies. In fact, he once cheffed at the short-lived café called Rock Star—also at Harry’s, The Ivy Hotel, Levain, and a whole lot more I’m forgetting. So, this is what we’ve been waiting for: He’s finally put his money where our mouth is and opened his
own café.

Tilia occupies the former Rice Paper digs in Linden Hills—completely rehabbed to include a new bar and dining stools to view the open kitchen of the tiny, 42-seat space. And the dishes flowing from that itty-bitty, open-to-view kitchen are what we’ve all been waiting for from Steven—thoughtfully created but not hyper-crazy; ample portions at affordable prices.

So, what’s wrong with this picture? Two things. One, no reservations. So, on a rainy Tuesday, we waited an hour for one of those coveted 42 seats. (Okay, I can live with that.) And two, the noise—which I can’t. It reaches the level of a motorcycle rally, which only someone under 20 might appreciate—and those gastro-babies wouldn’t “get” the menu, anyway. That leaves the rest of us, out for a romantic evening or a pleasant conversation with a pal, are out of luck, and patience.

So, why bother? Because of the darn good food, served by really, really sweet staffers, who made us feel like they’d staked a personal investment in our happiness. Apps (mostly $3-10) are listed under the too-darling heading, “It’s Nice to Share.” Good idea. To get you in the mood, start with the grilled flatbread that come with organic (natch) olive oil for dipping and dukka, a seasoning mix, to sprinkle. More substantial: grilled kielbasa, gravlax, a hill of crisp and tender French fries, mussels, shrimp, scallops and such—enough fine numbers to fabricate a tapas dinner, and probably the best way to go.

Add greens from the salad list ($8), such as our delectable heap of gem lettuce sprinkled with goat cheese, baby radish and snow peas, all drizzled with a pleasant sherry vinaigrette. Really good.

So was a strange but wonderful “fish taco torta,” among the sandwich list (most under $10). A soft and giving bun comes piled high with gently fried fish fillets further moistened with slaw livened with lime and cilantro, plus a handful of grilled onions and Morbier cheese. Plus—this is the strange part—taco chips inside the bun. (Why? Gotta get that carb count up?) Among eight entrees, if you get that far ($13-20), two appealing pastas are available in half-portions, so yes, you can have both. And you’ll want to.

Otherwise, how to choose between cavatelli bathed in parsley pesto then strewn with artichokes, walnuts and Parm, or squash caramelle amplified with spinach, ricotta, prosciutto, Gorgonzola and walnuts? (Forgot anything? Sounds like it cleaned out the kitchen, and for a good cause.)

Or vacillate between the arctic char, mahi mahi, pork tenderloin, brisket. We finally went with the dish all of our many attendants voted number one: the duck breast. Its sweet slices are partnered with a satiny puree of citrus-preserved prunes, lavender honey and roasted shallots—sweet, sweet, and sweet, and terrific. But that’s it. So we added a side dish—a spectacular one—of caramelized Brussels sprouts tossed with bits of ham and walnuts. Perfect.

Desserts (“Well, Aren’t You Sweet”—or saccharine) lead off with a toffee date cake, clearly the winner. But the hordes of diners before us thought so, too, so the kitchen had run out. Instead, we shared a really swell butterscotch pot du crème—shot glass, actually, filled with the best butterscotch “pudding” since grandma made her own.

A word about the wine list, and that word (well, two) is “sticker shock.” Bottles begin in the $30s. So go by the glass, where the small but swell selection leads off with the house Bordeaux. Or stick with beer; the draught list is one of the longest, strongest in town.