If La Chaya Bistro accomplished nothing else beyond ridding the south Minneapolis streetscape of a tattered KFC outlet, it would be all right in my book.
Co-owners Juan Juarez Garcia and Dave Kopfmann weren't the first team to take a crack at transforming this former Extra Crispy outpost -- they were preceded by a short-lived coffeehouse venture -- but the pair seemed to do the lion's share of the dirty work, converting a shlocky bit of urban blight into an eye-catcher, due in no small part to Kopfmann's landscape-designer chops. It's also a whole new ballgame inside, with a busy semi-open kitchen overlooking a mustard-tinted dining room smartly trimmed in rough-sawn pine. Seriously, someone needs to hand these two a well-deserved urban renewal award.
I also appreciate what Garcia, the restaurant's culinary force, isn't doing. He's not going the standard-issue neighborhood cafe route (each time I am faced with yet another twist on classic American comfort food, I am nudged one step closer to early retirement). Instead, he's borrowing from his native Mexico -- and from Italy, where he worked -- and devising a menu that wisely doesn't fuse the two cultures but pairs them side by side. It's a welcome change of pace, and, more often than not, it works.
Soups are a strong suit
The two daily soups rank at the top of the kitchen's strong suits. One week the choices were a spirited gazpacho and a creamy avocado topped with cool, clean bits of crab mixed with fiery peppers; both were fantastic. Another week featured a vibrant, broth-based tomato with peppery accents and a fragrant cream of cilantro garnished with grilled shrimp. Paired with a salad (another high point by the way, particularly a satisfying beet-avocado-green bean number), they could easily make for a fine late-summer meal.
Appetizers are more uneven. On the down side there is a plate of tough, flavorless, thinly sliced beef with a lifeless garlic sauce. I wasn't impressed by the soggy grilled vegetables or the bland mushrooms paired with grilled bread. But there's a fun street-food thing going on -- lightly battered and fried calamari, and skewered bits of fried fish with a zippy cilantro sauce -- and I appreciate how the kitchen refrains from the temptation to over-adorn a generous plate of thinly sliced raw beef, allowing the meat's rich flavor and texture to take center stage.
I wish the plate-sized pizzas were better. The crusts -- skinny, sturdy, nicely charred -- were on the right track, but the toppings were often surprisingly bland. Not what I expected with an average price of $14. Ditto the house-made pastas. The ideas sounded promising, but with the exception of a rustic wild mushroom-penne combination, the final results seemed tame and underseasoned. A disappointment.
There are six entrees, and they come with a side of sticker shock. A filet and a rib-eye hover in the $30 range -- a price so far outside the neighborhood cafe comfort zone that it's an exurb -- but they're terrific, ringing with a big, beefy flavor and dead-on accompaniments. Down in the mid-$20s there's a swell pepper-studded slab of halibut topped with a refreshing mango salsa (the less said about the other and far drearier halibut preparation, the better) and so-so grilled shrimp livened with, yes, that ubiquitous cilantro pesto. The relative bargain of the bunch is a juicy, crackly-skinned piece of grilled chicken paired with mashed potatoes and grilled asparagus, which tops out at $16.50.
