Dining: 'Hello' to Piccolo
When foodie favorite Auriga closed in 2007, a shock wave ran through the Minneapolis dining scene. Where would diners go for a dose of chef Doug Flicker's imaginative cooking? After lending his talents to others -- Mission American Kitchen, Porter & Frye and, lately, D'Amico Kitchen -- Flicker is on the verge of becoming his own boss once again, taking up residence at 43rd and Bryant in south Minneapolis.
Q: So you're taking over the Cafe Agri space, eh? That's one of the smallest venues in town.
A: It's super-tiny. It's going to allow me to take chances that I wouldn't feel comfortable taking in a larger restaurant.
Q: Such as?
A: I want to redefine how we eat. The way we eat is so silly. There's so much waste. It's the military-industrial complex with food. I don't ever want to have to come up with another menu with a first course, soup or salad and an entree. It's such a sham. As chefs we make entrees big so we can justify the price, we throw all kinds of bells and whistles on it, and, realistically, you get three or four bites into it before you politely ask for a to-go box, and three or four days later you'll throw it out. That's not just wrong; it's destructive. We all consume too much. That shouldn't be the norm. I don't want this to be a normal restaurant.
Q: How will the menu work?
A: The idea is to promote eating multiple dishes and get exposure to multiple flavors. I think it's kind of like combining two or three tasting menus and serving it a la carte. People will be able order seven courses if they want, or come in with a table of four and share a few plates. People like to split things. Why not offer half the portion at half the price? I hate to use the words "small plates," because it sounds like shrinking something down. This is what I do best, cooking-wise. We'll start with 12 savory [dishes] and three desserts, and as we get the hang of everything we'll expand it a bit.
Q: Care to share a few examples?
A: Scrambled eggs with pickled pigs feet. Salt cod brandade with cauliflower tortellini and artichoke puree. Beef shin with cipollinis. Black cod with bitter oranges and Belgian endive. It goes without saying that we'll try to be as local as possible. At this point, that should be a given. We don't need to get up on a soapbox and preach about it.
Q: At $6 to $13, the prices look manageable.
A: It might go higher for foie or truffles, but that's the idea. It's appropriate sizes at appropriate prices.
Q: I like the name, Piccolo. Like the musical instrument?
A: Yes. It's Italian for small. The space is small. The rent is cheap. To a certain extent, it reminds me of Auriga.
Q: The use of Italian isn't exactly an accident, right?
A: My first restaurant job was [D'Amico] Cucina, and my last, hopefully, was -- is --the Kitchen. It's hard to ignore the reality that I like Italian food, but I don't intend to box myself into having an Italian restaurant.
Q: You said "we" earlier. Who?
A: He's Jim Andrus. He was also a partner in Auriga. He's going to do the wine list and run the wine program and aid me in the running of the restaurant. We'll be taking the space over in December, and we're shooting to open in the first week or two in January.
Q: Does it feel good to be working for yourself again?
A: Of course, but it's also scary. There's no safety net. Last year I had it really good. I'd come in at 2 [p.m.], prep my station, enjoy cooking and go home. Now I go to sleep thinking about the restaurant, and when I wake up I'm thinking about the restaurant. But at the end of the day I don't really have a choice. This is what I have to do. I look forward to building something up again, and giving back. Serving people is such an honor.
