Choosing the right vibe

When people talk to me about steakhouses, I can’t claim to be any sort of expert. I know what I like. But, perhaps most importantly, I know what I can afford. Sure, I’d like to go to Manny’s and Murray’s and Morton’s and Ruth’s Chris and Rossi’s with some regularity.

With my chosen career path, however, a steakhouse means Mancini’s in St. Paul. Which is just fine with me. I’ve never had a bad hunk of meat there during my decade or so parking myself in their red vinyl booths. And if I’m really feeling an economic pinch, I like to think I can cook a steak to rival most restaurants.

But I am fascinated with the steakhouse concept. Red meat served in a dark, wood paneled room. It’s cigars (well, up until a year or so ago), it’s stiff drinks, it’s guys in suits—it’s about as complete a masculine experience short of a locker room.

So how does that fit into a Wisconsin Dells, Wis., resort tricked out with water slides for the kids and family?

The restaurant is Kaminski Bros. Chophouse, which idein and Parasole developed for (and with) Mike and Tim Kaminski, owners of the Chula Vista Resort. You’ll read about it in this issue, so I won’t give anything away. I only mention it here to chew up column space and to remind us restaurant groupies of the choices made when a concept is developed. On a serendipitous note, in this issue, Jonathan Locke’s column (page 14) also hinges on this theme.

“It is a masculine restaurant, but we see the smiles on the wives faces,” said Mike Kaminski. “It’s like they are getting into the guys’ domain.”

Kaminski also didn’t want anything “snooty” about the restaurant, and the braintrust at Parasole/idein, the restaurant group that designed the chophouse, made sure the restaurant had a heavy dose of their Manny’s concept’s attitude: serious meat in a serious steakhouse served with wit.

The Kaminski Bros. Chophouse has a lighter atmosphere than many mahogany-colored steakhouses, a nod toward the clientele visiting the resort. They might not have brought a suit, and they need to feel welcome. The experience of an urban steakhouse remains, however, blended with the free-for-all attitude of a buffet (a Wisconsin trait if there ever was one, and one the Kaminskis are intimately familiar with—buffets abound elsewhere within the resort, and they owned Black Bart’s all-you-can-eat buffet in downtown Wisconsin Dells, which they just sold last year).

Part of that attitude is the Kaminskis themselves, who, despite their rapidly growing business, intend to remain visible in the restaurant. The massive growth of the resort has, obviously, forced a few management-style changes over the years. But the Kaminskis during the 1980s learned that a strict corporate style did not always translate into success. “We were sitting at our desks,” Tim Kaminski said. “We became a corporate hotel.”

And they lost the business of a long-time customer. The reason? “They said they didn’t see us anymore,” Tim said. “Never again will we do things like that.”

Like Chula Vista as a whole, “we’ll keep the family aspect working for Kaminski Bros.,” Mike said. “In the main kitchens for the resort, (the chophouse has a separate kitchen), we haven’t hired a dishwasher in six years. People stay.”


Another closing (and opening) in my ‘hood

The Vintage in St. Paul is closing after a decade in business. Ten years is a very good run in the restaurant business, but it was still a surprise when the Pioneer Press made the announcement last month. Or was it?

Thinking about my last dining experiences there (and there were fewer as the years went by, even though I live literally around the corner) the meals, while still good, weren’t particularly memorable. The service, while still adequate, wasn’t particularly attentive. For the price point—which was very reasonable for fine-ish dining—those are two things that need to be consistently above average.

The reason for the restaurant’s sale wasn’t disclosed—perhaps the owners just wanted out of the business. Whatever the reason, I took it for granted that The Vintage would always be in business—how could it not be with perhaps one of the greatest bar areas in the Twin Cities? But that idea might have had more to do with the permanence of the historic mansion in which the restaurant was housed.

Selby Avenue east of Dale Street is a tough place to run a restaurant, not because it couldn’t support one or two more, but if your quality slips just a little, there’s literally another restaurant a few steps away that will most likely deliver the goods, from Zander to La Grolla to Moscow on the Hill to W.A. Frost to Fern’s—a good meal can be found for a variety of price points.

The new restaurant, tentatively called Il Vescovino, will be the latest venture by the Marchionda family, owners of Buon Giorno and I Nonni. Knowing that, I’m already planning my first visit.

Interesting to any new restaurant development, is trying to fit it into the neighborhood, particularly when it’s largely residential. At a recent Summit-University planning subcommittee meeting a friend of mine attended, some neighbors expressed concern about potential patio noise with all the amenities the new owners are planning.

From my industry-biased perspective, I can’t imagine noise issues being any worse than they already were, which, from my vantage point around the corner, weren’t an issue. But my backyard doesn’t bump up against theirs. Given the experienced restaurateurs involved, I’m sure the issues can be ironed out.

As Locke says in his column, it’s all about fitting your business into the environment, not the other way around.