I have always admired Stewart Woodman's cooking. I was crazy about it at Levain; ditto at the ill-fated Five Restaurant & Street Lounge. Yeah, I'm clued into the guy's Chefzilla reputation, although I've never witnessed it firsthand.
But here's the deal: I don't care if Woodman makes the foul-tempered Gordon Ramsay look like Rachael Ray hopped up on happy pills. I eat his food, period. And I feel fortunate when I do, because Woodman possesses a prodigious culinary talent.
At Heidi's Minneapolis, Woodman is following the lead of his surroundings -- the former Pane Vino Dolce, one of the region's smallest dining venues. The kitchen is so cramped that there's room for just him, one or two assistants and a dishwasher. That's it. But out of such circumstances emerges food of tremendous appeal, at affordable prices. Entrees hover in the $16 range, and appetizers top out at $9.50. This is his vision of what an affordable neighborhood bistro can be. I'm all over it.
Take what Woodman dubs chicken "lollipops." These are no ordinary bar-food wings. Bones are cut, the meat is pushed down to a single finger-food-friendly stick and then preserved in oil and thyme until it reaches maximum tenderness and flavor. Add small cubes of sweet apricot, a gingerly dash of truffle oil and voilà, you have a truly exceptional snack.
The same goes for his Buffalo-style shrimp, which are skewered, lightly fried and then twirled, cotton candy-style, first in a spicy blue cheese mornay and then in panko and served with a foamed celery sauce. Unlike most remakes that are too clever or too overwrought for their own good, Woodman's are funny, ingenious and delicious.
His salads are exquisite little bursts of art. Butter lettuce is gathered into a wedding-worthy bouquet, and while your eyes are feasting on its beauty, your nose is catching the ginger-citrus accents wafting out of the vinaigrette. Mushroom caps, cut horizontally so they resemble flattened umbrellas, are layered between spinach leaves and fragile shavings of Asiago.
The first time I ordered the pheasant, a dusting of cloves around the plate's edge served as a perfumed salutation, and each seductively tender bite (foiled by a zesty arugula salad) was better than the last. A vegetarian version of a Bolognese sauce is a dazzling sleight-of-hand exercise; it somehow has the oomph of beef and pancetta, minus the meat. Lovely things happen when the menu turns to seafood, too. Barramundi, the skin crisp and brown, the flesh firm and pale, is accented with a gossamer mussel broth and a vividly tinted parsley purée.
Whole beef short ribs are cut off the bone, wrapped like a carpet and then braised for about six hours until the meat melts in your mouth. The bones are used to make a stock, and you won't want to miss a drop of it after it's married with the braising liquids. For starch, Woodman adds a sesame-flecked spaetzle -- so good -- and includes a few sautéed bok choy leaves for color.
Heidi Woodman, Stewart's spouse, is the pastry chef, and her work clearly reflects her husband's culinary ethos. She poaches firm pears, dropping in traces of orange and vanilla and pairing them with apple cider vinegar-kissed caramel and tangy yogurt sorbet -- lovely to look at and a pleasure to eat. I love how she candies pink peppercorns to give her luscious, lightly tart lemon crème brûlée a snappy finish. She puts a wintry spin on molten chocolate cake by adding fragrant gingerbready spice notes.
The surroundings don't yet match the Woodmans' exceptional food, but when that happens, tiny little Heidi's is going to be huge.
