The New Favorite Neighborhood Café

The new Grand Cafe in south Minneapolis is blooming in the hands of two of the city's top chefs.

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Grand Cafe is the best restaurant that almost never was. It all starts with Erik Anderson and Jamie Malone, nationally acclaimed chefs who have been waiting for years to launch their first self-directed mission together. Everyone assumed it would be their fried chicken and champagne concept called Brut, but that ran into some walls.

Enter Mary and Dan Hunter, who owned and loved Grand Cafe for a decade, creating a homey south Minneapolis restaurant that set a high bar for neighborhood dining. The Hunters could have closed the spot and walked away clean with a “For Lease” sign in the window, but instead they sought the right owners to carry the business forward. Malone and Anderson had always loved the spot—they couldn’t pass it up.

So now we have the second coming of Grand Cafe, as a technique-focused neighborhood French boîte whose new proprietors are bringing their A-game. Case in point: Anderson and Malone did not skimp on the crew. Chef de cuisine Alan Hlebaen, a local kid who’s done stints at The French Laundry in Napa and Catbird Seat (with Anderson) in Nashville, came back to town to work on the small line at the Grand. And you’ll find Marco Zappia, formerly of local bitters outfit Bittercube, around the zinc bar making delicate low-proof cocktails from housemade vermouths. Bill Summerville collaborated on the wine list and Kyle Billie, an undersung veteran of hospitality, floats the room and handles tables with aplomb.

The slight décor change they’ve brought to the space is actually transformative. Instead of trendy barnwood, Anderson and Malone opted for warmly stained oak antiques. Instead of Edison bulbs, you’ll find candlelight. And in place of concrete and other industrial finishes, there’s soft zinc, living green things, and hand-painted wallpaper of fronds and mist. Dare we say the vibe is feminine and comforting? It’s intuitive and romantic, and feels so fresh that it’s almost shocking. The space absorbs you, and sets you in the right place to receive some truly gorgeous food.

The dishes here are simple, but made with a high regard for technique reflective of the national reputation this crew has garnered. You won’t find 15-ingredient plates that resemble a painting more than dinner, but you will still find artistry and whimsy. One of the most Instagrammed bits so far has to be the Foie Gras Royale—a traditional silky custard topped with sturdy tobacco-tinged crème Gitanes (named for the ultra-strong French smokes). The custard is served in a hollowed-out brown eggshell that sits in a white duck-footed egg cup along with a brass spoon. Also in the menu’s “Little Things” category is the Paris-Brest, a usually sweet choux pastry that here is piped with savory chicken liver and then balanced with a black honey glaze. It’s light and grounding at the same time, rooted in tradition minus the rigidity.

It’s an understatement to say this is the perfect spot for gathering with pals, throwing a few shareable dishes on the table, and downing some drinks—that’s one of its main reasons for being. The “For the Table” section of the menu is particularly well suited for gatherings, and includes the obsession-worthy pike quenelle—a traditional Lyonnaise dish that I’ve never seen anywhere else in town. Think of it as the best fish omelet you’ve ever had. Puréed pike is blended with an egg mix and poached to form a cylinder that is then baked in a rich and slightly spicy crayfish sauce. It’s buttery and lush with only the most graceful of fish notes, and your tablemates will fight over swipes of that sauce. The hand-sliced ham, meanwhile, comes from the leg of Mangalista hog that sits on the end of the bar, its flavor nutty and fatty. The ham is $23/ounce, but there are foodists who find that a value.

I could go on and on about the plump roast chicken, whose skin is stuffed with young garlic and herbs. Or the perfectly cooked spring lamb with vibrant ramp hollandaise, fava beans, and morels. It may be gone from the seasonal menu, but it’s still very present in my taste memory. Other gems include carrots in a sunset-hued carrot butter, and a rib-eye that arrived not as a giant slab hoarding my plate but as a lightly crusted sliver—a perfect portion to satisfy your beef needs without hoarding your gut space.

This Grand might be new, but it has an old soul. We are lucky to have such skilled chefs paying homage to a cuisine while carving out a humbly elegant neighborhood eatery. It’s a place I didn’t even realize we needed in this city—but it turns out we do.

Grand Cafe

3804 Grand Ave. S., Minneapolis, Minnesota 55409

612-822-8260

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