Before she opened Sooki & Mimi, Ann Kim had three restaurants and a James Beard Award to her name. Already, there was a sense that she could sling the equivalent of sliced bread and get even the most jaded diners to grovel.
Except she didn't.
See: Young Joni, Kim's third restaurant, which could easily have been another outpost of Pizzeria Lola, but instead became the dressier, more daring evocation of it. The crowds rallied, eager to taste how else she could riff on wings, cauliflower and pizzas — revelatory then as they are now.
Then Sooki & Mimi, which opened five years after Young Joni, stepped up, straying even further from a model primed to succeed. It had to be braver (vegetables only) and riskier: Selling a $120 prix fixe during the height of the pandemic was one way to strut.
This also means that the dining room must be prettier, more transportive. It is, and alone could justify the expense: an undulating ceiling bisected by wood beams, booths sectioned by shelves brimming with succulents and a vibe reminiscent of a cantina in an expensive resort.
Kim eventually made her menu more accessible by shrinking her menu to three courses, for $55, and added options with meat. In May, she pivoted to a la carte, returning to the original vision for her restaurant: "Fun and fancy-free."
Yes, it's a good move. Besides the affordability, it encourages variety and eases the pressure off a full meal. You can try replicating a coursed experience, though during a recent visit, our lamb dish arrived before seafood, and the tacos appeared as they were ready.
It also brings small or shareable plates back to the fore. As familiar as they already appear in restaurants, trout dip, mussels and wings (albeit dry) are attractive to the diner who frequents the bar, where spunky cocktails await.
If you dine that way, order the tacos. My favorite among them is the Italian beef, Kim's take on a Chicago-style spicy beef hoagie: peppers, onions, giardiniera and a mild queso encased in a supple yet resistant flour tortilla. Sure, the beef could be fattier, but that's why the clean beef jus is there, French-dip style. It's as life-affirming as its forebear.
I didn't realize the mushroom birria was a vegetarian option until I finished it, because the maitake mushrooms were so meaty. I wish the queso were dialed down in favor of the mushrooms, but the crisp-enough birria exterior made up for it.
With a little more punch, the fish taco could joust for attention, too. A moist and flaky walleye fillet, no wider than a credit card, sits undisturbed on pickled nopales and a cabbage slaw, both of which were one-note in flavor and texture, and bested by a salsa (morita, a type of chipotle pepper) that overpowered.
And with more pruning, the Korean pork taco would taste less like glorified, overly sweet al pastor, punctuated too strongly with gochujang.
Less is more
There's much to explore across the rest of Kim's menu — largely inventive takes on the regional cuisines of Mexico. Through her unique lens, she puts a new spin on vegetables even if it occasionally falls flat.
Frida salad, a tall pile of radicchio and other greens, needed acid. Nestled within are awkwardly thick logs of jicama and a dukkah too thick to mix into the delicate leaves. A tamal is fine, though not more compelling than a good-looking jumble of ingredients crowned with edible flowers. And a vegetable huarache showcased vibrant, snappy peas and asparagus but lacked brightness and the promised flavor of lemon oil.
Better to order gai lan, a kind of Chinese broccoli, that's usually sweet enough on its own, but here is elevated with a nutty dukkah. Or the vegetable tempura, a cobble of slender onion, carrots and sweet potatoes, fried till splendidly crisp and paired with a smooth crema.
More often, Sooki & Mimi's pitfalls occur when it tries to accomplish too much, when one member of the ensemble sings off-key.
A mole does, too herbaceous to be paired with an otherwise juicy duck breast and a textbook confit leg. Pickled nopales does, too, by thwarting a Korean yukhoe-inspired beef tartare, otherwise well matched with radish and chives.
I wish I could taste the chorizo in the mussel broth and suspect I could if the spice didn't overwhelm it. But I question why tortillas — as appealing as they may be — are served as a side. Dipping them in the broth yields a texture not unlike reconstituted cardboard, while excavating mussel meat to serve atop those tortillas feels like playing a game with no victory in sight.
And I wish the kitchen would soften the heat of the lamb shank, by far the most impressive entree. Doing so would do justice by a shank that pulls apart without effort and carries a deep, robust flavor. It would also allow the toum, a Lebanese mayonnaise-like sauce, to work its magic.
Depending on how you construct your meal, desserts may be an afterthought. Sweet potato mochi doughnuts are the better of the two. They're gently chewy, and you can dip them either in a dulce caramel or an airy chocolate mousse that radiates with chiles.
For a nightcap of fun, head down to the basement bar, cleverly designed as a 1970s-style rec room matched with a cocktail lounge. The drinks are straightforward and less fussy than the ones upstairs, but well concocted, and the dorado-style tacos, served in fluorescent dino taco holders, are as delicious as they are Instagram-worthy. (They're also the only food available downstairs.)
The tortillas are house-made from heirloom blue corn and are said to be reminiscent of the ones Kim had in Mexico's Valle de Guadalupe — a trip that inspired the restaurant. Along with her upbringing as a Korean immigrant in Apple Valley, Kim has colorful stories to tell.
Keep them coming.
Sooki & Mimi
⋆⋆ 1/2 — recommended
Location: 1432 W. 31st St., Mpls., 612-540-2554, sookiandmimi.com
Hours: Dining room and bar are open 4-10 p.m. Sun.-Thu. and 4-11 p.m. Fri.-Sat. Basement bar is open 4-11 p.m. Tue.-Sat.
Prices: Appetizers range from $14-$18, entrees from $13 (vegetable tempura) to $41 (lamb shank) and tacos $16-$18.
Beverage program: Upstairs, a tight roster of cocktails, wine and beer with a handful of zero-proof offerings. Downstairs, the curated spirits are categorized as good, better and best. Drink them neat or in a long list of cocktails.
Worth noting: Bar seating — both upstairs and downstairs — is first-come, first-served. And the restaurant employs a no-tipping model, meaning a 21% surcharge is added to all checks.
What the stars mean:
⋆⋆⋆⋆ Exceptional
⋆⋆⋆ Highly recommended
⋆⋆ Recommended
⋆ Satisfactory
Jon Cheng is the Star Tribune's restaurant critic. Reach him at jon.cheng@startribune.com or follow him at @intrepid_glutton.
