BY CARLA WALDEMAR
Bradstreet Neighborhood Craftshouse
1930 Hennepin Ave. S.
612-871-1200
www.bradstreetcraftshouse.com
Back in Ought Nine when Bradstreet Craftshouse operated in the belly of the Graves Hotel downtown, the cocktail cognoscenti love-love-loved it. Me, too, for the inventive small plates slid across the bar along with that martini glass. But since it moved to outer-Uptown—the Franklin & Hennepin space that formerly housed beloved Auriga and then not-so-cherished Rye—it’s become the default option for folks in the ’hood (like me) when it comes time for an impromptu bite and sip. Save the white-tablecloth steakhouse next door for special occasions; drop in here any old Tuesday night. Or Wednesday. Or … Well, you get the idea.
The series of small, inviting spaces (choose your ambience, from romantically dark to socially sunny) are downright pretty, so you won’t mistake it for Lyle’s across the street. Especially when you peruse the cocktail list, starring my favorite, the Blueridge Manhattan, built upon Bulleit rye, served with a tiny beaker to refill the glass, while my companion’s refreshing vodka-and-bubbly-based Cooper’s Union arrived in a tall, slim flute. They’re delivered by servers as friendly as kindergarten teachers, and a lot more knowledgeable about snacks beyond graham crackers.
Salivating over the list of apps and sides ($6-16), we dove for the ahi tuna tartare, a generous tennis-ball-size scoop of the sweet, ultra-fresh flesh brightened with a zippy painting of sriracha mayo, a shower of ponzu, and house-made oyster crackers (an earlier rendition had also included ginger ice cream, a loss I do not mourn).
Next, the addictive roasted Brussels sprouts tossed with sweet snips of dates, succulent lamb belly (yes!), a shower of pungent goat cheese to balance that fat, and a subtle touch of sumac. Terrific. So were the cauliflower fritters in their filmy chickpea batter, dolled up with sweet caramelized onions and the light, balancing acid of a dill-feta dipping sauce. Or choose the sesame chicken meatballs under a sweet-and-sour glaze or wings rubbed with Moroccan spices, served with a side of caraway crème fraiche to cool the combo.
We skipped over the salad listing ($9-16), but only for the time being. On a return visit, I’ll be first in line for the Bradstreet lardon salad, a take-off on the first thing to hit my lips when I land in Paris. This variation calls on wild watercress for its cushion, then strews it with bacon lardons, tops it with a soft-boiled egg to pierce and toss with the greens, along with, here, a soy-truffle vinaigrette.
Instead, we proceeded to the larger plates ($17-28). A dish of mussels, sweet and limpid, lazing in a coconut broth, were joined by basil-grilled mushrooms, pickled ginger (interesting addition) and fried chickpeas for crunch. Then, who can resist lobster mac & cheese? Not me, that’s for sure. This kitchen’s version trades the usual thick, rich sauce for a lighter touch, marrying fluttery torchio pasta leaves with fragrant truffle oil, toasted crumbs and sweet, coral shards of lobster meat. If people weren’t staring, we would have licked the plate. The dessert list ($3-10) is pretty uneventful: buttermilk panna cotta, chocolate Swiss roll, ice cream sandwich, or just plain ice cream. We voted for another cocktail instead.
The “neighborhood” in the café’s title earns that goodwill statement, all right: kids’ menu, happy hour specials, and late-late hours for that tasty fuel.
