Martina

Martina belongs to the Daniel del Prado set of Minneapolis rooms, and its potato churros have become the dish regulars measure everything else against. They arrive as an appetizer, and the pattern in how people order here is consistent: two orders isn't enough, and a third gets requested before the entrees land. That kind of return order says more about a kitchen's execution than any single glowing description could. Empanadas hold their own alongside them, less showy but just as tightly made, the kind of starter that disappears fast at a table of four before anyone remembers to save room.

Asado anchors the main line, a nod to the Argentine and broader South American grilling tradition that gives the menu its backbone, and it reads as the dish for the table that wants to share rather than order individually. The kitchen's Latin American range sits comfortably in Minneapolis, a city where Ecuadorian, Mexican, and South American threads run through different corridors, and Martina's contribution is a room built for the group meal rather than the solo counter visit. Pricing lands upscale, which tracks with a menu built around shared plates and a main course meant to be split, not a quick lunch stop. The room's reputation has shifted from novelty to habit.

People who've relocated to Minneapolis and made the city home are naming Martina as the place they now bring newcomers, which is a different kind of praise than a first impression, it's a repeat customer's shorthand for reliable. Group friendly and casual in tone, it reads as a special occasion room that doesn't require a special occasion to justify the visit, built for the table that wants to order widely and share everything that lands.