The North side gets Sauced
By Mike Mitchelson
A conversation with John Conklin, the chef and owner of Sauced, a North Minneapolis bistro, is wide ranging, driven and blunt. “I’d consider myself a failure if my kid grew up to be a cook,” Conklin said as he prepped for the lunch service two hours away, tending to a large sauté pan filled with a pile of caramelizing sliced onions. Not exactly what you’d expect from a guy who is laser-focused on his restaurant’s success.
What about a restaurateur?
Conklin shook his head. “No, this is what dad did so they won’t have to.”
Conklin is as serious about that as he is to have Sauced be a great neighborhood bistro, which in turn helps with the revitalization of a neighborhood. Conklin lives about 12 blocks away, and interprets the business’ success with a particular gravity—but not himself. “I’m not the be-all-end-all, I’m just a cook,” he said. “But this is all I know how to do to help out. And I’m not looking to change the reality of cooking. Just keep it clean and from-scratch.”
His goal to open a restaurant became fixed when he moved to the Webber-Camden neighborhood in North Minneapolis. In Sauced’s place was Rix Bar & Grill, which opened in 2005 to some acclaim for its ambitious bar fare. But about six months into its life, ownership squabbles left the kitchen to unqualified hands. Conklin went for dinner with his wife, Tricia Clark, one evening, and the experience was memorable for all the wrong reasons. But he took note of the local crowd and the space, and returned many times over the coming months for further observation.
The menu followed the restaurant’s downward spiral. “It had 13 burgers, and they microwaved their mashed potatoes,” he said. He watched diners walk in with a hopeful look on their face, and leave dejected. “But they kept coming, they wanted to support it, and support the neighborhood.”
He approached the owners, who lived in the neighborhood, but didn’t work in the restaurant. “I just said, ‘Let’s stop the bleeding.’” They agreed to work with Conklin and carry the restaurant’s note for the first year and transition the ownership. “It could work, it just needed the right people.”
The right people started with a sous chef, Chris Wolfe, whose training ground included Mitch Omer’s Hell’s Kitchen restaurant in Minneapolis. They took over the kitchen last December, and operated as Rix while two covert actions took place: The first was a two-month floor-to-ceiling cleaning expedition. The second was developing a classy, neighborhood-friendly bistro menu and the flavorful sauces after which the restaurant is named. “I couldn’t believe I had wraps and chicken wings on the starting menu,” Conklin joked. But the patient development paid off. About six months ago, Conklin switched Rix to Sauced. Yes, he’s got a burger—accurately called the “crack burger,” soaked in addictive veal demi glace—but popular among the regulars are the grass-fed beef (a carpaccio starter and tenderloin entrée), scallops, smoked chicken and ceviche. Prices for everything are what you’d expect at a neighborhood bistro: no full entrée over $20, sandwiches and burgers hover in the $10 range; small plates start at about $8.
“We don’t go nuts with purchasing (product),” he said. Organic proteins, such as the grass-fed tenderloin, and other items are on the menu, but Conklin can’t justify a wholesale switch. “There’s a certain price tag (to do that), and I’m not going to pass that on to the neighborhood,” he said.
It’s the neighborhood that matters, and Conklin tires quickly of the “crime-ridden, North Minneapolis” stereotype. “When people think of North Minneapolis, they think of Broadway and Penn,” he said. “We’ve got to stop that mindset.”
Webber-Camden, and other North Minneapolis neighborhoods, “want the record shop, the bike shop and book stores,” Conklin said, adding that the Webber and Victory neighborhoods were suggested to him by other restaurant owners as a place to open a new business. Residents are active on the streets and eager to build their community, he said. “It’s just not here commerce-wise,” Conklin said. But that appears to be changing. “It’s been a struggle (since opening), but every month it’s getting better.”
Local government officials “have all expressed support,” as well as the neighborhood businesses—including the few restaurants, Conklin said. “Our success is due to the neighborhood’s support, and I’ll never turn my back on them.”
Background
Conklin has worked in restaurant kitchens since his teens, but said his formal education began while working with Chef Michael MacKay, first at Gallivan’s in St. Paul, then at the Sample Room in Minneapolis. After six years honing his upscale dining skills from MacKay, he struck out for what many thought was an odd career move: to head the kitchen at a Northeast Minneapolis bar, Mayslack’s.
“I caught a lot of crap for cooking at Mayslack’s, but I couldn’t cook with Mike the rest of my life—I’d put a gun in my mouth,” he joked.
But seriously. Conklin considers MacKay his mentor. And the move to Mayslack’s also was part of his education. “It’s about what I can learn from each job.”
Mayslack’s was hit by the Minneapolis smoking ban in 2005, prior to the statewide ban in 2007, Conklin explained. “People could just drive 15 blocks and smoke (in a different bar).”
Conklin spoke with then-owner Jeff Moritko about the bar’s menu—mostly soups and sandwiches—not about abandoning it, but giving it a tweak with Conklin’s fine-dining training. They arrived at a deal: “He handles the front, and I made sure the food sells,” Conklin said. “It was up 65 percent.”
A partnership arrangement was discussed, but Moritko sold the business, and Conklin moved on. “I learned a ton from him.”
He then worked as a sales rep for Sysco, the last stop on his personal restaurant ownership training program. “I don’t want anyone coming through (this restaurant) telling me ‘This is how it’s going to go,’” he said.
It’s easy to glean he’s not the push-over type. He’s got more plans for the menu, which include lamb and duck dishes, and old-school desserts with a twist, such as goat cheese cheesecake. Yes, the concept is decidedly bistro, but “relaxed”—Conklin, a football fan, is weighing opening Monday nights with a limited menu during the NFL season. “We’re a neighborhood joint; we’re very laid back,” he said. “We’re snotty about the food, but that’s about it.”