Eat Street's on a Bali high

In 2001, when they were both punching a time clock at Ichiban, the convention center tourist trap, Patrick Hoepner and Tries Irawan probably didn't realize they would team up and open their own restaurant.

They've christened their new place Bali. I'm not sure if it was intentional, but the duo -- Hoepner is the owner, Irawan is the chef -- didn't stray too far afield of their former employer. Six-month-old Bali may be just down the block from Ichiban's blue tile roof, but Hoepner and Irawan's distinctive Eat Street restaurant is a world apart.

Irawan is conjuring up the flavors of his native Sumatra, one of the westernmost islands that make up the archipelago nation of Indonesia. He's been in the United States for nine years, the last eight in Minnesota. When I jokingly asked him if it was the fine winter weather that lured him to our great state, he laughed the suggestion off. "It was a calling from God," he said. "Otherwise, how would I have ever met Patrick?"

Divine intervention, fate or happenstance; whatever the reason, the results all share the same happy ending, with diners enjoying Irawan's spirited food. Some segments of his menu have a street-food sense, while others give off a home-cooking vibe. The tone is relaxed and easy, peppered with enough spicy twists to set the restaurant apart from its numerous Eat Street brethren.

Starting with the deviled eggs. This Indonesian breakfast staple starts with a hard-cooked egg, flash-fried in super-hot oil to give it a lightly crispy exterior before being doused with a fiery chile condiment for an extra-special kick. They're fabulous. Irawan's generous platter of pan-fried egg noodles is a similar spice-fest, with generous helpings of garlic and slow-cooked chiles cranking up the considerable heat. It's served, like so many of the menu's dishes, with a choice of chicken, tofu, shrimp or mock duck. Its companion, pan-fried rice noodles, relies on peanuts and coconut to impart a gentler, slightly sweeter heat, and it's equally delicious.

Irawan makes allowances for American tastes. A favorite appetizer is a plate of spicy, thin-slice fried potatoes, devised because "Americans love potatoes, so I want to make something with potatoes," Irawan said.

His hot-sour soups -- gigantic servings brimming with vegetables and offered with the menu's chicken-tofu-shrimp trifecta -- lack the pungent bite they would have back home, because "Americans don't eat shrimp paste," Irawan told me. Still -- as a consolation, perhaps? -- he offers teri kacang, a feisty blend of crisp, fried anchovies and peanuts that's made for stirring a little crunch into fennel seed- and coconut-infused rice. This American loves it.

Complaints? Sure. The appetizers are heavily dependent on the deep fryer, a bummer for diners in search of fresher fare (that said, I developed a thing for the chickpea-filled dumplings and the tightly wrapped noodle-cabbage-chicken egg rolls). The cooking can be uneven -- a dish can be light and flavorful one day, greasy and flat the next -- and each one of my meals at the restaurant started with a recitation of which menu items weren't available (I never did get to try the fish cakes for that very reason). Irawan's slow-braised beef dishes have a tendency to linger too long in the oven -- dry, stringy pot roast, anyone? -- and no amount of well-seasoned pan sauces is going to rectify the situation.

But when he cooks to order, Irawan often makes a favorable impression. I really enjoyed his whole-fish preparations, a pair of variations on silver-skinned, firm-fleshed yellowtail scad. One is sautéed with peppers and onions and doused with a thick soy sauce-sugar-green onions reduction, and the other is simply grilled with a blend of herbs and spices; both taste as good as they look.

Plump, tender mussels get just the right touch of coconut milk and lemongrass. Kaffir lime adds a perfect grace note to medium-size shrimps blanketed in a vibrant red coconut curry. Basic grilled satays also hit the spot; don't miss the chicken glazed in a thick peanut sauce and paired with tangy pickles, or the citrus-glazed shrimp, skewered on sugar cane for a flash of sweetness.

Hoepner and Irawan have given their place a colorful once-over, adding some eye-catching South Asian art, ringing a tidy bar with a scattering of tables up front and wisely paying scant attention to a dreary, oddly configured lounge in the rear. The address -- next door to Market Bar-B-Que, across the street from the Music Box Theater -- has been something of a restaurant revolving door in the past few years. With the advent of Bali, I have the feeling that that reputation is headed out the door.

Rick Nelson • 612-673-4757