— Josh Page (@ILikeFoodJP) November 1, 2012
Piccolo is a humble, but astounding neighborhood joint tucked into an unassuming corner well off the main Minneapolis foodie drags. Its kitchen, with the expert direction of Chef Doug Flicker, constantly kicks out inventive, delicious food, and Flicker clearly puts great thought into each component of every dish. Everything on the plate serves a purpose. Nothing is just for show, restraint reigns supreme. Combining non-traditional (some might say strange) ingredients, flavors, and techniques, Flicker puts out truly unique, addictive fare. Take Piccolo’s signature dish, “Scrambled brown eggs with pickled pig’s feet, truffle butter and Parmigiano.” It may sound “out there,” but the blending of flavors and textures works—and I want more! I could say the same thing about menu items featuring halibut cheeks or beef tongue (for less adventurous diners, there’s also cod, chicken, duck breast, and suckling pig to choose from). I strongly recommend going with the five-course dinner ($48), a great way to sample Flicker’s creations. Don’t hesitate to ask the servers with help mixing and matching courses—they’re friendly and know what they’re talking about. So take a chance on Piccolo, and don’t skip on the pig’s feet. You won’t be disappointed.
From the Eater Crew
Sam (age 13), junior member, says: I specifically like Piccolo because of how they change their menu. It makes you try new things, unlike a regular restaurant where you go and eat the same things every time you go there. At Piccolo you are forced to try things like pickled pig’s feet and quail egg (which actually tastes pretty good). Another thing about Piccolo is the fashion that the customers wear; it can go anywhere from people in pajama-looking outfits to a more outgoing outfit like “the Captain” from “How I Met Your Mother.” If you are looking for a nice tasting menu, Piccolo is what I would recommend.
Letta, herbivore helper, adds: Fine dining brings out the anxiety in a vegetarian. We want to be respectful, and we know the care, thought, and love that have gone into a menu like Piccolo’s, so it’s daunting to speak up. This is especially true for a picky veg like me—I’m chagrined to reveal that I hate mushrooms, olives, and eggplant, the holy trinity for well-meaning folks trying to “replace” meat in whatever they’re serving me. So I often just chomp on, smiling wanly (but hopefully gamely?). That’s not a problem at Piccolo, where I’m in the habit of letting the wonderfully enthusiastic and accommodating servers know how many courses I’d like to enjoy, what I am not up for eating, and then putting the whole shebang in their capable hands. And at this elegant, restrained eatery, those are very capable hands.