It’s 5 PM, and I’m eating dinner. Last time I supped at this hour, I was sitting in a highchair, wearing a bib. So why am I dining at a time I’d normally be wrapping up a late lunch? Because, when I sought a reservation at Diane’s Place and asked for the next available slot, I was assigned—a month out!—to the only vacancy within my remaining lifetime. (Well, almost.)
Worth it? I’d give a resounding “Yes.”
At 5:01, scads of equally eager diners stampeded to their tables in the restaurant’s quiet backroom. (There’s a larger, more vibrant space rimmed by a lengthy bar as well). And here comes the dining diva herself, restaurateur Diane Moua in her chef’s whites, greeting guests, directing servers, inspecting plates, and explaining the roots and preparations of this deeply personal menu, which salutes the homestyle cooking of her Hmong roots.
Let’s just add here that, since growing up on a Wisconsin farm, she’s earned her stripes in fine-dining kitchens—most recently, Spoon and Stable, where she won diners’ hearts and palates as its dessert chef. (She’s not known as Pastry Diane on social media for nothing.)
But, despite advice from connoisseurs like Marie Antoinette of “Let them eat cake” fame, there’s more to dinner than sweet finales. And Diane was more than ready to explore the savory side of the menu. So, with the blessings of her former bosses, she stepped up and launched a café where she could introduce the full range of the Hmong cooking of her heritage.
The first item listed on it, however, is mini scallion croissants ($15) because, yes, she’s still the queen of the oven. Skip them at your own peril. Fifteen additional items await (mostly $16-30), ranging from egg rolls and salads heralding bamboo and papaya to heartier fare. This evening, my companion and I began our meal with an order of steamed pork rolls—foot-long, inch-thick lengths of translucent rice-based wrappers bursting with tender, chewy chunks of pork abetted by green onions and cilantro to further flavor the meat.
For dippers, choose the Hmong hot sauce or peanut sauce or do as we did: plead for both. Bonus, we were served a clear, thin sweet-and-sour sauce, too—a far remove from those in a typical Chinese café: not cloying at all, not overpowering. The hot sauce conveyed some robust, but not searing, bursts of mouth-warming heat, while the peanut version proved a pleasant ally to the rich meat. Off to a good start.
Bypassing Diane’s now-legendary Hmong sausage (simply because I’d enjoyed its hearty earthiness on earlier visits and wanted to explore other lures), I chose the red curry duck stew for my entrée . If I weep as I type this, it’s because I didn’t order a second serving to act as today’s breakfast. The rich and hearty lengths of pulled meat mingled with tiny, fleshy Thai eggplants, farmers’ greens aplenty and bits of bamboo lazing in a rich-flavored broth, all ladled over a generous bowl of steamed rice. Bonus: the stew is crowned with a just-barely-poached egg, all a-quiver.
Of course I begged (read: demanded) a small bowl of my companion’s choice, a tureen of pork and mustard greens which sounds staid and homely, yet is anything but: The pork appears as crispy (really, really crispy-crackly) pork belly strips swimming in a deeply flavorful bone broth, served with rice and one’s choice of sauces: Hmong hot, sweet and sour, or peanut. Other entrees range from pan-fried rice noodles to pulled pork; from braised beef short rib to eggroll-stuffed chicken.
Now comes the time to remember that Diane was once a pastry chef: dessert (four options, $14, or simply ice cream, $5). Shall it be the chocolate custard torte with croissant ice cream? The castella cake served with coconut sorbet and roasted pineapple? The peach-lychee pavlova? I wish. But I’d already devoured enough for a family of five, so I opted for the Vietnamese coffee affogato, a dessert-cum-after-dinner coffee which I adore. Picture a scoop of coffee ice cream anchoring a glass of espresso, and what could go wrong? Well, something did. This particular presentation incorporated little, brittle squares of cocoa nib that actually detracted from the smooth, rich finish—a case of less is more.
Which only means I’ll have to come back soon and try something else, right? Not a bad fate…
Diane’s Place
117 14th Avenue NE
612-489-8012
www.dianesplacemn.com
Carla Waldemar