I'll cut to the chase: Here are 10 reasons why the Lynhall has landed firmly on my dining-out radar.
1. Two rising-star chefs. How to revive the tired sandwich-salad-soup circuit? You put chef Shane Oporto in charge. His résumé includes gigs as varied as the Lafayette Club, Libertine and La Belle Vie, and he's channeling that experience into creating what could have been another been-there/done-that experience into one that's full of happy surprises. Then you take full advantage of pastry chef Katie Elsing's gifts, watching as she turns out standard-setting breads, plus a cadre of sweets that also take a turn away from same-old/same-old expectations. The fact that both are demonstrating that excellence can be experienced at everyday prices is the proverbial icing on the cake.
2. All hail the tartine. Oporto artfully views Elsing's skillfully rendered breads — deliriously rich brioche, nutty wheat loaves, or a tangy, sturdy potato sourdough — not as mere slices but as plates, or canvasses. There's no prettier sandwich in Minneapolis right now than the one that pipes swirls of creamy avocado across brioche, crowning that foundation with a highly sculpted landscape of herbs and raw and pickled vegetables. It tastes even better than it looks. Ditto the chicken salad sandwich. Another open-faced beauty, it relies on the kitchen's rotisserie chicken (more on that in a moment), splashes of a vibrant green curry, pops of cilantro and ginger and, for color and texture — two traits always on Oporto's mind — juicy gooseberries and sharply pickled daikon radishes. It's billed as a "daily" special, but this equation proved to be such a hit that it hasn't left the menu, at least not yet. Here's hoping the formula remains.
3. And three cheers to the savory tarts. The kitchen's commitment to vegetarian — and vegan — cooking really comes through in a series of gorgeous tarts. Carrots are roasted with molasses and garam masala until they're barely soft but still retain a semblance of crunch. Then they're tossed with raw carrots, hazelnuts and a vegan cashew cheese, a sublime exercise in deeply wrought color and flavor. Even better is the tomato version, built with preserved tomatoes, a three-week process that yields intensely flavorful fruit that's scented with thyme and rosemary, then enriched with Parmesan. On paper, it comes off as very Moosewood Collective, but in looks and taste it's anything but. Oporto just announced that he's leaving the Lynhall for a new opportunity, and his successor will have big shoes to fill. "We're sending Shane off with lots of accolades," said owner Anne Spaeth.
4. Oh, that chicken. For all of Oporto's admirable approaches to meat-free cooking, he's no slouch when it comes to dealing with animal proteins. He keeps the kitchen's showy rotisserie busy with two off-the-beaten-path alternatives — leg of lamb and pork belly — but it's the most basic of choices, chicken, that forges such a favorable impression. The birds are brined for 24 hours and then dried for four days before the oven's heat works its magic, leaving crackled skin and spectacularly juicy and deeply flavorful meat. That goodness comes at a price, but one nibble in, and you'll realize how much the lower-cost supermarket version has deadened our collective taste buds.
5. Soups and salads. Speaking of supermarkets, Oporto will forever ruin anyone who relies, prepared salads-wise, on the rote efforts of their nearby supermarket deli. His ingenious combinations — slightly sweet roasted beets with crunchy snap peas and tangy preserved kumquats, or chewy kale dotted with tumeric-seasoned couscous and spiced-up walnuts — all exceed the salad-making checklist. He's also got a flair for vegetable-centric soups. One makes fine use of the season's predictable overabundance of zucchini, placing it in a starring role with other of-the-moment green vegetables in a basil and tarragon-fueled broth that's brightened with a splash of sherry vinegar. Another is straight-up San Marzano tomatoes cooked with onions, garlic, milk and butter ("It's not the healthiest soup I've ever made," Oporto said with a laugh), blended to a pleasingly thick purée and garnished with some of those color-saturated herb-preserved tomatoes used in that sublime tart.
6. Morning refuge. Breakfast is particularly strong. A habit-forming Cheddar-sage scone, filled with tender, succulent ham and a runny egg, is a definite day-brightener. Then there's the pair of spectacular tartines. One marries fresh peas — a total lip-smack of summer — with paper-thin shears of speck, squeaky-fresh ricotta and creamy scrambled eggs; the other pairs juicy tomatoes, an opulent Brie "fondue" and a runny poached egg. I've definitely found a new source for my (not-so) secret French toast addiction. Even a basic a.m. skillet gets the deluxe treatment. One complaint: It's strictly coffee and pastries until 8 a.m., a bummer in this early-to-rise town.
7. Super sweets. Elsing had me at her brown butter tart, a dense, moist, butterscotchy square of unadulterated goodness. But her cute desserts-in-a-jar — a tart lemon custard capped with berries, a luscious French silk pie — are certainly attention-grabbers, too. She treats éclairs like mini-parties, and her approach to morning standards (capping a nicely crumbly coffee cake with a sumptuous meringue swirl, for example) is similarly good-humored. Even her drop-style cookies, dense with butter, could never be mistaken for coffeehouse standards.
