After nearly a decade and minus one chef (original partner Soren Bredahl retired to his native Denmark in 2001), this cozy, the upscale eatery has earned its stripes with food that represents the sort of old-fashioned luxury and value lacking in many hipper spots.
Every suburb ought to have a restaurant like Two Chefs. The place is friendly and fancy at the same time. The food is mostly superb yet the setting in a South Miami strip mall is, to put it kindly, down to earth.
It's actually a bit dowdy with dark-tinted windows, pots and pans hanging from the ceiling and butcher paper on the tables. If not stunning, the space, with its plush upholstered chairs, is comfortable.
So, too, is the veteran staff, mostly mature men who are quick with a joke and a recommendation or a refill on a glass of wine -- at least when owner Jan Jorgensen is in the house. Service on a quiet Sunday evening was markedly slower.
After nearly a decade and minus one chef (original partner Soren Bredahl retired to his native Denmark in 2001), this cozy, the upscale eatery has earned its stripes with food that represents the sort of old-fashioned luxury and value lacking in many hipper spots.
Nearly every dish relies on heavy accents like hunks of smoky bacon, Gorgonzola or goat cheese. Truffles also make lots of appearances, sometimes unnecessarily. Earthy truffle oil overpowered an otherwise perfectly balanced lobster salad over haricots verts and tiny squares of celeriac with a beautifully emulsified dressing.
The generally well-composed and generously portioned salads also include smoked duck breast over shaved fennel, bits of apricot and cucumbers in a tangy lemon vinaigrette.
Escargot pot pie is richer than most modern palates might crave. A bowl big enough for breakfast cereal is covered in puff pastry that on our visit was just a bit undercooked. It covers a steaming broth of onions, porcini mushrooms and perfectly snappy bits of escargot. A moist and herby crab cake made with huge lumps of white crab shares space with grilled zucchini and a wild mushroom gratin.
The simpler dishes stand out here. An incredibly tender filet mignon dotted with goat cheese alongside a creamy potato galette was perfectly seared to medium rare. Oak-roasted figs served warm with a half moon of aged goat cheese and a salmon-colored broth of honey was a delight.
Flatbreads with fresh herbs in the crust are dressed with just the right balance of luxe toppings like lobster with braised shallots and asparagus or shiitake mushroom with caramelized onions and goat cheese.
Coq au vin is textbook perfect. Tender hunks of poultry the color of honey are served in an irresistible brown stew rich with the lingering smell of good red wine, cubes of husky pancetta and plump button mushrooms. The bowl of pepper-spiked mashed potatoes served alongside spells pure comfort.
Likewise the juicy barbecued meatloaf neatly wrapped in bacon and served with potatoes mashed with a hint of horseradish.
Mahi-mahi burst with the briny flavors of the sea, but on another visit, the snapper special was overcooked and dry. Nonetheless, nightly specials like wild mushroom ravioli with black truffle fondue, braised rabbit cassoulet with rabbit galantine and red wine-braised lamb shank with black truffle risotto are recommendable.
The unpretentious wine list includes nearly a hundred reds and as many whites, mostly from the New World. The overstocked bar has an especially impressive assortment of whiskeys.
For those who love soufflés, offbeat flavors like butterscotch or mixed berries are as good as the classic Grand Marnier or Gianduja chocolate. It would be a pity, though, to miss out on the other fine desserts, including a subtly tart Key lime cheesecake with a buttery walnut crust.