Masterpiece

Masterpiece doesn't dress up. The room is plain, the kind of strip-mall Duluth space that gives away nothing about what's coming out of the kitchen. That gap between setting and plate is the whole story here — the food does the work the decor won't.

Start with the dumplings, because everything else has to compete with them. The purple potato dumplings, colored and lightly earthed by the potato in the wrapper, hold egg, tofu, bean thread noodle, and mushroom, and they stand up fine against any meat filling in the city. The Zhong dumplings arrive pork-and-vegetable-stuffed, sitting in a soy and chili oil sauce that's spicy, sweet, and vinegary all at once, layered enough that you save what's left and pour it over rice rather than let it go to waste. The entrees keep pace instead of trailing off after the appetizers, which is where most places in this category fall apart.

The city's Bib Gourmand nod and a pair of Beard Best Chef semifinalist mentions confirm what the dumplings already prove: this is serious cooking wearing no costume. Bring guests you want to impress. The room won't do it. The food will.