There are ten wines available by the glass, heavy on the Iberian connection as you might expect. I had a Vina Albara Old Vines Garnacha that I liked. Instead of plain bread for the table you get a toasted piece with a light tomato spread—but this was wet and turned the toasted part of the bread to near-mush.

The sandwiches, "bocadillos" on the menu, are described in an alliterative flurry as "small, simple, Spanish sandwiches." The menu assures you that the filling is of "high quality ingredients" and each is served with a Spanish potato omelet and a baby green salad. Among the choices are Serrano ham with Manchego, tuna with capers, smoked salmon with onion, and grilled eggplant and piquillo pepper.

Of the four salads listed, only one is greens-based. A couple of the others are a tomato, avocado, and shrimp with a Manchego vinaigrette and grilled seasonal vegetables with sherry vinegar and Spanish olive oil. Two soups are also available, a white gazpacho and an intriguing spicy one with quail, chorizo, and greens.

The four entrees include a pork tenderloin, grilled and served with peppers and cured ham, and halibut with toasted garlic and tomato.

But I suspect that most lunchers will eschew all of the above in favor of the tapas. A total of 28 small plates are available fro mixing and matching, ranging from simple, obvious ones like assorted Spanish olives, fried calamari, and ham and cheese croquettes to others that I doubt you’d find anywhere within a short flight. Examples of the latter are chorizo-stuffed dates with smoked bacon and scallop with Serrano ham and saffron. Ingredients such as chorizo and piquillo peppers figure in a number of plates and several seafood choices are available. The vegetarian can dine on the aforementioned olives, a few cheeses in different preparations, marinated baby artichokes, and several others.

We ended up ordering five plates, although we did that in two batches, our first choices whetting our appetites for more. In order of appearance at our table, we had the grilled asparagus wrapped in lomo with Mahon, piquillo pepper stuffed with herbed goat cheese, grilled scallop with tomato and cumin, a prepackaged selection of three grilled Spanish and Portuguese sausages, and shrimp and Tetilla (a soft Spanish cow’s milk cheese) croquettes.

This turned out to be a mini-feast for the palate. My favorites were the chevre-stuffed piquillo and the lomo-wrapped asparagus (lomo being a thin slice of cured pork). The former could be comfort food for the gods, spicy, creamy, gooey cheese in a package that Zingerman’s mail-order catalog refers to as the "undisputed sovereign of peppers." Not only were the asparagus and lomo outstanding on the other, but the dish came with Mahon sauce that you could eat with a spoon and be happy. Other dishes also came with some type of sauce on the side. The croquettes, which I would have been more than happy with unaccompanied, came with a Manchego aioli (I was more than happy regardless), and the sausages (a blood, chorizo, and one other) had a yummy white bean purée that was good as a condiment for the sausages and by itself.

But there wasn’t anything I didn’t like. The scallops (despite the use of the singular in the dish’s name on the menu, two came with an order) were probably not of the highest quality but they were done just right and the tomato-cumin sauce was tasty.

Our room featured one wall painted indigo blue, one a silvery blue that went with the shiny upholstery of the booths alongside it. Orange wall sconces gave a splash of warmer tones and through doorways and wall openings you could glimpse color schemes in adjoining rooms

Service was knowledgeable but somewhat pushy. When we asked for water we were asked, "Would you like Minneapolis tap water or Spanish bottled water?" in a tone that left no doubt what the correct answer was. (Just to be perverse we insisted on our local H₂O.) And when we were discussing how many tapas plates to order we were told that four-to-six per person was a good number; that suggestion turned out to be twice as good a number as necessary. Fortunately we played it safe and didn’t learn our lesson the hard way.

But let’s not end on a low note. Simply put, Solera is a new star on the gastronomic firmament of the Twin Cities. If it prospers we might even be able to get excellent paella for lunch one of these days.

Normally I am a stickler for timeliness but on this occasion I was shamelessly late. If I am at my desk my faithful desktop will beep in good time, reminding me of a pending appointment. I wasn’t at my desk but in a vendor-relationship-management meeting that I had to bolt out from with a barely suppressed "Oh excrement!" upon looking at my watch. I called ahead and asked the restaurant to apologize to A and to tell him that I was running late. A greeted me frostily and as I discovered it wasn’t just because I was late. It appears that my glib remarks about A and neighborhood restaurants—a private joke between us—were not well taken. To set the record straight and to offer an apology of sorts:

1. A was not late and the battery story is true. I was trying to be funny.
2. A lives much closer to several restaurants than I do. Prima, for instance, is closer to him than Barbette is to me. He can walk, I have to drive.

Solera comes from the same stable that gave us La Belle Vie—the finest restaurant in Minnesota by my reckoning—in Stillwater. The location is the old Bravo, now sadly defunct, which I remember well from the high-flying days of the late nineties as a location for numerous "corporate hospitality" events that I attended as well as hosted. Solera with its warm colors, tiles, arches, nooks and woodwork is suitably theatrical, considering its location on our version of The Great White Way. From a previous visit—late one night—I can tell you that the theater is not limited to the décor but is practiced with great aplomb by the bar crowd. The restaurant, uncharacteristically and incongruously, has leather upholstered, bench like seating in blue, comfortable enough but definitely not in keeping with the rest. The bathrooms—probably portals to Hades—are located in the basement and if you’ve ever been to Germany you’ll know what I speak off; the resemblance, though, to German restrooms is a fleeting one, these "bogs" are first-rate with tiled walls and oval mirrors.

Spanish tapas had a humble beginning; originally a mouthful of food included in the bar-price of a fino, wine or beer, a tapa is designed to accompany drink and good conversation. This unprepossessing dish, in the hands of a master, is an exquisite treat for the palette and equally pleasing to the eyes. There are, of course, other purveyors of tapas; notably La Bodega in uptown, but there is no one in Solera’s league. So what does one do in a tapas restaurant? Order as many different tapas as one’s appetite and pocketbook can support of course.

We had the grilled piquillo peppers in sherry vinegar, grilled asparagus wrapped in lomo with mahon, piquillo pepper stuffed with herbed goat cheese, grilled scallop with tomato and cumin, shrimp and tetilla croquettes and finally a selection of grilled Spanish and Portuguese sausages. I enjoyed (and eat with relish) every single dish. My particular favorite was the asparagus wrapped in lomo (thinly sliced pork loin), the asparagus was cooked to a perfect crispness and the taste of the pork complimented it beautifully. The grilled scallops were next on my list. It is so easy to over cook scallops but in this case they were seared to perfection. The shrimp croquettes simply melt in your mouth and the combination of tetilla (Spanish cheese) and the shrimp works surprisingly well. If you’re not in a tapas mood the menu offers bocadillos, Spanish sandwiches (ham, tuna, fried egg, pepper). I still remember the magical taste of my first ham bocadillos, eaten upon landing in Valencia and washed down with a glass of Stella (I was only nineteen). There is also the traditional soup, salad and entrée menu (pork, fish, chicken) but I’d stick with the tapas if I were you. The wine list for a tapas bar could be more extensive but perhaps what I saw was just for lunch, of which I had a glass of a Spanish red (misplaced notes now preclude a name). Our chocolate pudding based dessert was a disappointment after the fine meal and A, when asked for his opinion on the dessert by the manager, was forthcoming in saying that it lacked excitement (or words to that effect). We both had espressos and the bill came to a reasonable $76.00. The service was very attentive and tapas plates would disappear with alacrity – sometime even when we weren’t quite finished.

The food at La Belle Vie is without compare but if you want a great kitchen with a sexy restaurant and bar then Solera is without peer.

B