Reviews, features, and other media mentions...
In case you missed any printed or posted write-ups of Manny’s, we’ve compiled them here, along with diner poll rankings, feature stories, and other information.
REVIEWS....
2008 MINNEAPOLIS STARTRIBUNE RESTAURANT OF THE YEAR
On several levels—the outlandish prices, the unapologetically over-the-top portions—Manny’s Steakhouse is a perfectly ridiculous restaurant. But by relocating from its low-profile digs in the Hyatt Regency Hotel to a new center-stage address in the Foshay Tower, the 20-year old beef palace proved once again that it’s also a perfectly brilliant one.
Most of the qualities that make Manny’s Manny’s survived the six-block move in August. In fact, very little has changed at Manny’s since that fateful day the first porterhouse hit the grill in 1988.
“Well, it got more expensive,” said co-owner Phil Roberts with a laugh.
An entertaining sideshow, which involves a cart, a half-dozen raw plastic-wrapped steaks, a wiggly live lobster and a veteran server with a well-rehearsed patter, still kicks off every dinner. The exceptional beef continues to be source from the same Independence, Mo., purveyor that has been supplying the restaurant from Day One. The side dishes and desserts remain as seasonally ignorant (and, frankly, just as so-so) as ever. The anatomically exaggerated portrait of the Manny’s bull brashly greets diners the way it always has.
No other restaurant can touch Manny’s magnetic ability to draw every fat cat—and fat-cat wannabe—within a 50-mile radius, a minor miracle for a restaurant that debuted during the Reagan administration. Perhaps that popularity is due to curiosity-seekers, coming to kick the tires of the surprisingly chic dining room and the red-checkered tablecloth hideway that is the bar.
Maybe it’s because the restaurant is serving breakfast and lunch for the first time (both adhere to Manny’s basics-done-big mentality). The location—anchoring the W Hotel and commanding a highly visible downtown intersection—could also be luring the standing-room-only crowds.
All a factor, no doubt, in making the restaurant the toughest reservation in town (in a recession, no less), but it could be that Manny’s is delivering exactly what diners want right now. Anyone who can figure that out is brilliant.
ZAGAT 2008
- 20 - Decor
- 26 - Food
- 26 - Service
“Red meat” and “big red wines” come together at this quintessentially “clubby” Downtown steakhouse easily earning its rep as a “masculine” kind of eatery but also for its “fabulous” meats ferried by a “pro” staff; yes, “if the martinis don’t knock you off your feet, the bill will,” but nonetheless, cronies concur “this is the place for my last meal on earth.”
TWIN CITIES BUSINESS
Manny’s gives all the assurance of an old-school masculine steakhouse, starting with the portrait of a bull gazing reflectively over his domain. With its green marble and dark wood, Manny’s is part man-cave and part New York steakhouse, where a server rolls out the day’s selection of raw cuts, glistening together in all their marbled glory, for your selection.
Over-the-top entrées abound – one of the specials, delicately named “the bludgeon of beef,” is 40 ounces of bone-in ribeye, and the seafood martini is surmounted by two aggressively grasping king crab legs. The boisterous dining rooms don’t seem to deter the soccer moms rubbing elbows with star athletes, businesspeople, and out-of-town conventioneers who flock to them. The Zagat Guide has called Manny’s one of the five best steakhouses in the nation, and Wine Spectator has bestowed on it its “Award of Excellence.”
NORTHWEST AIRLINES WORLD TRAVELER
Twin Citians, and savvy out-of-towners, would stack Manny’s Steakhouse up against any other manse of meat from coast to coast. There’s no bull at this clubby, masculine steakhouse, unless of course you count the prominent, painted canvas greeting guests at the door.
Servers in white coats wheel carts topped with USDA-certified, center cuts of beef – perfectly marbled and dry-aged cuts of porterhouse, bone-in rib eye and more – to our table and discuss them as if they were listing the traits of a mode. While there are items on the menu for non-beef eaters, don’t miss the main event.
Sides, such as super-sized asparagus spears, hash browns with onions, and sautéed mushrooms, are designed to serve two. The bartenders mix a mean martini, and the wine list is just one more thing to write home about. Reservations are recommended
CITYSEARCH
Businessmen and groups chat loudly at tables and booths of this buzzing steakhouse. Servers push meat-loaded carts over bare wood floors. The manic energy creates a camaraderie in the unadorned dining room. The shrimp cocktail is a popular starter; and the seafood options include a colossal lobster and fresh salmon. But diners should know this is the place for red meat. Top-selling cuts include a juicy 22-ounce porterhouse, bone-in rib eye and filet mignon.
AOL CITYGUIDE
You've seen the name of this fine restaurant before -- right at the top of almost everyone's best steak place list. Beef-raters and plain old steak-loving folks alike seem to jump at the chance to mention the name in restaurant dialogue. Manny's this, Manny's that. You can't get that kind of rep without actually offering really good steaks, and that's what Manny's simply does. If Minneapolis had a cattleman's club, this would be it. Suits and cigars can't be ignored here -- the latter usually limited to the bar area -- and neither can the choice cuts of meat presented at your table for your selection and cooking preference. A la carte side dishes, like asparagus or mushrooms, and wines available from the excellent list are almost minor considerations next to the dry-aged gems from Manny's locker. Despite the expectation of red meat rapture, chops and seafood are also listed for anyone who suddenly feels he or she has been steered in the wrong direction. Expect a very simple menu that reveals prices about as steep as your steak is thick.
GAYOUT.COM
Want to know what’s so satisfying about a properly cooked steak with a glass of a prestigious Cabernet to wash it down? This is the place to find out. Of course, there are other steakhouses in Minneapolis but none that champion meat as unabashedly as Manny's. This is where the stylish carnivores gather and where wheelers deal while they discuss the finer differences between single malt and blends. And in between, they are fed like royalty. White-coated and suave, the waiters wheel out carts laden with see-and-tell pieces of their fresh cuts for the evening. Along with your turf you can also get some surf, in the form of huge live Maine lobsters or swordfish steaks---but why? You come here for the meat, without the frou-frou trappings that try to steal the show. The sides are à la carte and meant to be shared: don't miss the crunchy hash browns or the silky sautéed mushrooms. Since indulgence is the theme, go ahead and splurge on one of the many outstanding wines on the list. Or manage a Cognac while you contemplate the size of your waistband and the brownie (actually, it’s more like a pan of brownies), complete with a generous helping of ice cream.
TRAVEL CHANNEL DESTINATION GUIDE
“Upscale, But not Uptight.” This first class restaurant has enough class not to have a dress code. It was even voted as one of the Top five Steakhouses in the Nation by the Zagat Guide. You can feel comfortable coming here dressed to the nines for your evening at the Orpheum Theatre or dressed in jeans after visiting the Home and Garden Show at the nearby Minneapolis Convention Center. Surroundings are refined, yet completely overshadowed by the food. From the filet mignon to the tender asparagus, each bite is mouth-watering. Vegetables are served family style. Known for steak, the menu does offer many choices of seafood including live Nova Scotia lobster, salmon and yellowfin tuna. The waiters are always there when you need them, but never seem to hover. The wine list includes selections of French, Italian, Australian and Spanish wines priced on average from USD50-USD100.
CIGAR AFICIONADO
Manny's isn't designed for the Ladies Who Lunch. The first clue is the foyer's near-lifesized portrait of a bull in all its masculine glory. The second is the dimension of the portions, perhaps inspired by Manny's fellow Minnesotan, Paul Bunyan.
The dining room's appointments are equally grandiose, from double magnums of wine to produce displays featuring potatoes as big as boulders and a small forest of broccoli. The unabashedly macho Minneapolis steakhouse opened in 1988 to immediate acclaim, proving that the lust for top-flight red meat, and lots of it, was alive and well.
Two hands-on owners of Parasolé Restaurant Holdings Inc., operators of several successful Italian restaurants in the Twin Cities, designed the place to capture the feel of a traditional New York steakhouse: bare wood floors, burnished wainscoting bisected by a streak of jade-green marble, and a sea of see-and-be-seen tables, each set simply with a crisp white cloth, salt and pepper shakers, and a notepad to jot power memos--no candles, no flowers, no Muzak to detract from the trinity of red meat, red wine and choice cigars (in the cozy bar).
Manny's was the first establishment in the Twin Cities to introduce cigar nights. That was back in 1992, soon after Cigar Aficionado was launched. Manny's holds smokers on the first Tuesday of every month that attract more than 300 men and women. Guests are encouraged to bring their own cigars (many devotees bring five or six boxes for trading), or they may select from a rotation of half a dozen (including Partagas, Avo, Paul Garmirian, Oscar and H. Upmann, priced from $5 to $30) available in the bar. "It's getting harder to get good cigars," says general manager Randy Stanley, referring to supply and demand, "but we have good relationships with our purveyors, so they come through for us. I see no end to the trend; it appeals to our urge to indulge."
So do Manny's menus of food and drink. Single malts and Ports have become the beverage of choice at smokers, where most guests elect to cap their night with dinner.
In the dining room they're presented with an exemplary wine list that showcases new and limited-distribution California Cabernets such as Pezzi-King, Husch North Field Select, Justin Reserve, Vine Cliff and Seavey. Manny's wine list has won the Wine Spectator Award of Excellence seven years in a row.
When it comes to food, simplicity is the byword. Manny's chef shops well and then lets the viands make their own statement, never upstaged by designer presentations or fancy sauces.
Appetizers are almost redundant here; still, we couldn't resist. We started with a seafood platter bearing tender, buxom, perfectly cooked shrimp to dip in a lively tomato-horseradish sauce. Crab cakes--as good as I've ever had--came deftly fried, plump with rich meat and spared of pasty filler. A simple mustard mayo tempered their innate sweetness with a sassy little hit.
Waiters here are lifers. They're showmen, as proficient in their lippy banter as in serving expertise. Fans request their favorites when making reservations. Each starts his performance with a show-and-tell routine, lifting two-fisted hunks of meat, live lobsters and softball-size tomatoes from a tableside cart.
The filet mignon (choose 10 or 14 ounces), secured from a Kansas City purveyor and dry-aged for two weeks, is a best seller and justly so. Its charred crust, dancing with the tang of salt, gives way to a lode of ruby, mild-flavored flesh so tender the steak knives at each setting become mere visual props. The 20-ounce New York strip is a bit more strident in beefy flavor and fiber, while the 22-ounce Porterhouse represents the best of both.
A sirloin-cut veal chop, blushing a milky pink, bears a slender ribbon of fat beneath its crusty surface to moisten the tender meat. Three double-cut lamb chops (which buys you the whole rack) boast a sweet and slightly gamy flavor livened with a shake of salt.
Salads and side dishes are bountiful enough to share, as the waiters are quick to advise. Asparagus, stacked like Lincoln logs, arrived ideally al dente, its satiny Hollandaise more buttery than bright with lemon. Creamed garlic spinach proved as pungent as it was addictive.
Desserts, all classic steakhouse fare, are made for marathon eaters, too. We ordered a brownie sundae, and lived to tell about it. It's not a single brownie at all, but the whole six-inch pan--cakey rather than chewy, buried in an avalanche of premium ice cream, caramel sauce and pouring cream, gently whipped, with a shower of toasted macadamia nuts. To top this, our waiter did a two-handed pour of hot butterscotch and chocolate sauces. Then he stabbed a steak knife in the middle. Fitting.
NEW YORK TIMES
There is good news in Minneapolis for those who still share the secret pleasures of red meat, well cut and seriously served.
It is a kind of no-nonsense setting that fits nicely with the restaurant's own blunt ambience, deliberately designed to evoke the stolid feeling of a men's club. To make sure no one misses the point, the entrance is dominated by a huge painting of what is, unmistakably, a bull. The waiters...are identically dressed in tan jackets, black ties and white aprons. The lighting is sensibly bright. Diners who order meat are equipped with knives that underscore the seriousness of the undertaking: each has a thick wooden handle and a six-inch blade.
Diners at Manny's choose their cut of beef from a rolling cart, where samples are laid out for inspection, red, glistening and tightly wrapped in plastic. The waiters know their craft. When a diner asked for his steak ''Pittsburgh blue,'' the waiter did not blink; it came back thickly charred on the outside and barely cooked inside.
MINNEAPOLIS STAR TRIBUNE
If I were allowed just one more steak in my life, I might very well choose the 20-oz. New York strip steak at Manny’s. A dry-aged, top choice-marvel, it has a firm-yet-tender texture and a flavor as complex as a vintage Bordeaux. It’s charred to perfection on the outside, and when ordered medium, it still has a slightly cool center.
If you’re in the mood for superb crab cakes go to Manny’s. If oysters are part of your steakhouse drill, Manny’s is your place, too. In fact, Manny’s does it right on so many counts: killer hash browns and French-fried onions. Asparagus the size of curtain rods, served with the smoothest, creamiest hollandaise.
– Rick Nelson, restaurant critic.
DOWNTOWN JOURNAL
Find a good cow. That’s rule number one for Garth Thornton, executive chef at Manny’s Steakhouse. He thinks of his supplier as the first link in a careful chain that ends with butter knife-tender steaks on his customers’ plates.
“There’s a guy in Kansas City I’ve been buying from for about 13 years,” Thornton said. “He’s a meat man. He ages meat and cuts it and sends it to me.”
His Kansas meat man is picky from the get-go, says Thornton: He checks out the animal’s size and fat content and what they’re fed (corn is best). One thing he doesn’t care much about, says Thornton, is the breed.
“He’s an equal opportunity slaughterhouse,” Thornton laughed. “He doesn’t care what color they are. Some of it will be Angus, some of it will be Hereford.”
After the cattle are butchered, the meat is dry-aged. It hangs in a special cooler for two weeks, with fans blowing air enriched with ozone to regard spoilage. Then the steaks are cut and shipped to Minneapolis in cryovac bags.
“All you got to do is season ‘em and put ‘em on the grill,” Thornton said.
The chefs at Manny’s use seasoning salt. “You sprinkle it on, then use a five-prong ice pick and work it into the meat,” explains Thornton. “At home I use a fork.”
Another important link in the chain is the broilers, where the meat sits below the heat, rather than above it.
“It definitely cooks ‘em better,” said Thornton. “Fat drips away from it and you can get them hotter without burning the heck out of ‘em.”
And does he rage inwardly when diners order one of those fine steaks well done?” Not at all, says Thornton: even he, a 19-year veteran of a steakhouse kitchen, doesn’t eat all his meat rare. How long he cooks it depends on the cut, he says.
“Filet mignon, rare. New York strip, medium rare. Ribeye medium, porterhouse medium rare. Because they’re different kinds of steaks,” he explained. “With filet, there’s not as much fat so it tends to be drier if you overcook it, but the New York strip has a little more fat content, so it stays juicy.”
– Elizabeth Noll
CITY PAGES
Do Minnesotans spend thousands of dollars a year anywhere else, and feel lucky to do it? Hell no, they don't.
My date and I hit Manny's on the early side one Tuesday night—because that's the reservation we could get. Want in there during prime time on the weekends? Call well in advance, be a regular, or be out of luck. Even early on a Tuesday, the place was jam-packed. Manny's always reminds me of that kids' finger game, here's the church, here's the steeple, because the skyway leading to Manny's is always dead quiet, but cross the threshold into the restaurant, and the place is just thrumming like a carnival. Burly waiters, elderly waiters, rotund waiters, nearly all men, are running this way and that, purposefully pushing their enormous meat carts like stevedores moving cargo on the docks.
Women casually throw their furs on the benches of their favorite booths, and slide in, while their men shout into their cell phones: "I'm at Manny's. At Manny's! Yeah, you do wish you were."
At another table a woman in an Yves Saint Laurent pantsuit sips from a martini the size of a casserole dish. Her husband looks like he just got back from returning garden hoses to Home Depot, but chances are good he has cash reserves that would allow them to buy a whole Home Depot, or four.
We got the apple-smoked bacon appetizer ($11.95) because a friend of mine raves about it. It was two enormous slabs of mind-obliteratingly rich, smoky bacon—I mean, really, this bacon was mind-altering, you take a bite of the fatty wealth of it and your brain stops functioning entirely; it's the rock cocaine of food, and exactly as good and bad as that sounds. That said, my date and I together couldn't finish even a quarter of the mammoth order, so, if I were you, I wouldn't get it unless you've got a table of at least four to share it with.
Then the rest rolled in: my bludgeon of beef ($59.95), my date's New York strip steak ($44.95), creamed spinach ($8.95), and hash browns ($9.95). This "bludgeon" of beef really does look like something you could take out an intruder with: A long bone the size of your forearm curves up one side, and shelters a two-and-a-half-inch-thick slab of well-aged steak with some nice pale pockets of fat at the far ends. And it tasted just perfect: like some kind of deep, dark, wind-scored berry, juicy and, somehow, voluminous, echoing, thunderous. My date and I spent the rest of the night passing it back and forth—it was loads better than his New York strip, definitely worth the extra $15.
The creamed spinach was the definition of the dish: light, garlic-laced, creamy, the whole leaves of fresh young spinach still bright green and beautiful. The hash browns were, as ever, the very best of the genre: as big as a Frisbee and three times as thick, the potatoes crisp as potato chips on the outside, well-steamed and perfectly fluffy within. I always get mine "extra crisp" so they make two layers of hash brown. If I went back, I'd order wine by the glass, skip the appetizers entirely, and be as happy as smiley-face pancakes.
Desserts were just as they always were, and marvelous in their obliterating-indulgence sort of way. One of their signature desserts is a bread pudding made with Maker's Mark bourbon ($9.95), and when they serve it they always leave a bottle of Maker's Mark on the table in case you want to douse it a little more. It's a fun gesture, the kind of thing that says: "We're not an indulgent restaurant—we're an exponentially indulgent restaurant." Once you add as much Maker's Mark as you like, you'll find the bread pudding a classic, so buttery, so spicy, and so sticky that you fear you might get pulled into it, like some kind of La Brea tar pit, and never emerge again. If so, what a way to go. The pecan pie ($12.95) is big enough for four, and sweet enough that I may not eat again this month.
