Thursday, November 17, 2011

Tilia

What do can I possibly have to say about a restaurant recently voted best of 2011 by Minnesota Monthly that hasn't already been said by people with ten times more Facebook friends than little old me?

Plenty.

First, full disclosure: my friends Angie and Jorg are proud co-owners of Tilia, along with renown Chef Steven Brown. 

Tilia offers more than just really, really good food. Dinning at Tilia is akin to visiting with old friends. You are left with a sense of warmth, of gratitude, of longing for the next encounter. But let's start from the beginning.

The setting is gorgeous. From the carefully chosen light fixtures to the retro speakers belting out a unique mixture of old and new rock medleys, to the vibrating scene in the kitchen, Tilia looks like it's always been in this very spot in the heart of Linden Hills. Choose between the comfy booths, the rustic row of tables by the windows, or better yet, pull up a stool to kitchen counter and watch the magic happen first hand. Steven Brown's crew is having a good ol' time, and it shows in the dishes they put out.

The menu is playful, right down to the kids' menu printed on those little origami fortune-teller thingies we played with in elementary school to predict who we would marry and how many children we were destined to have.

For grown ups, may I suggest starting with a sampling from the It's Nice to Share section. I wouldn't have dared ordering something called Potted Meat anywhere else, but I trusted Steven and it has now become something that visits me often in my dreams. Like wise for the caramelized brussels sprouts and kobe beef hot dogs with pickled cauliflower. Crazy simple, crazy good.

A turkey burger is elevated to extraordinary heights with caramelized onions and gooey cheese. The meat is so, well, meaty, you would swear they threw some ground steak in the mix, so juicy it soaks through the sweet bun. Pictures do not do this beauty justice.

I have one bone to pick with the fish taco torta. While it is by far the very best, crunchiest, freshest fish sandwich I have ever tasted, it is not, by definition, a torta, which is specifically served on a bolillo or a telera roll, vs. the plain bun used here. But that just may be the obsessive compulsive writer in me talking.

Moving on, the shrimp in a glorious scampi sauce along with bright sweet peas is lick-the-plate delicious. You are supposed to share it, but HA! All mine.

The current menu features winter friendly items, such as red wine braised beef cheeks perched atop chestnut polenta and roasted figs. The meat is so tender it falls apart as the fork approaches it. The flavor is rich beyond explanation, like no other cut of meat I have sampled. You'll just have to put your Andrew Zimmern hat on and try it despite the mental image it conjures.

I haven't tried the wintery versions of the pasta dishes, but if the previous incarnations are any indication, the Tagliatelle Pasta will join it's friend the potted meat in my dreams soon enough.

Tilia has gotten more accolades than "Rent" and has quickly become the darling of every food critic worth their salt in the Midwest. And while it's true that getting a coveted seat for their Sunday brunch has become even closer to impossible now that it's been named Best Brunch by Mpls/St. Paul magazine, and you may have to wait for a while for lunch, or dinner, even on a Monday night, you can choose to visit Tilia during its "In Between" hours, when the menu is slightly narrower but the experience no less enchanting.

From an expertly chosen wine and beer list to fresh local produce, no detail is neglected at Tilia. So bring your Nook and read a novel while waiting for your table. It will be worth it. Oh, so worth it.

The seriously indulgent butternut squash soup. Plan to share it, and to take some home.


I'd drive around that damn lake just for this chewy, hot grilled bread. I swear they lace it with something. 


I told you the turkey burger didn't photograph well. 


You have not lived until you have delved into the lush bed of farro in gorgonzola sauce adorning the crunchy sweet beet salad. Sigh. 


The beef cheeks, a thing of carnivorous beauty. 


Pear tart with creme fraiche panna cotta in a white wine, pear, and goat cheese reduction. I think. I stopped listening at creme fraiche panna cotta. 


It was really good.


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