Review: Cielo
The Four Seasons’ sole restaurant hits the stratosphere
Photograph by Katherine Bish
There is the view: distracting. The dining room’s two-story glass wall faces out, eight stories up, onto a magnificent broad terrace with a long, shimmering reflecting pool and beyond that the Arch, only a couple of blocks to the south. It’s an Architectural Digest cover shot. Get back to it. You’ve got a menu to peruse.
Antipasti beckon. Plump discs of buffalo mozzarella and papery slices of prosciutto are arranged attractively under a canopy of curved, dried ciabatta slices, all drizzled with olive oil. A pungent caper-and-olive tapenade decorates salty sheets of house-cured beef carpaccio. Minestrone Milanese is suitably rustic, tomatoey, loaded with vegetables in a rich stock. Bull’s-eye rings of striped chioggia beet slices, peppery and crisp, are tossed with arugula, fennel and a citrus vinaigrette, topped with ricotta salata. The last is a spongy sheep’s milk cheese, mild and pleasantly salty, that brings this beet salad together and happily finds its way onto other dishes here. Chunks of crunchy Romaine make for a particularly good Caesar salad. The dressing is little more than a suggestion of olive oil—plus fat, meaty anchovies, Parmesan shavings and crispy bits of pancetta, all lending an unexpected texture and taste to what is often a passé offering.
For sharing, consider a platter of steamed mussels, lightly flavored with a fennel-scented white wine, slices of pork jowl guanciale and a misnamed but delightful lemon aioli sauce. Pastas are all fresh, house-made. Gnocchi bubbles are paired with sweet plum tomatoes and topped with fragrant basil. Ribbons of tagliatelle are tossed with a simple but inspired beefy, savory ragu of bison. A creamy-smooth braise of oxtail is stuffed into ravioli squares, covered with ricotta salata and dressed in a luscious brown butter.
Filet mignon and prime grade bone-in rib-eye are worthwhile. If you’re in the mood for meat, though, consider a rack of lamb accompanied by a braised section of shank, ladled with juices spiked with star anise. Wilted chicory contrasts nicely with the sweet bite of pear slices that adorn an enormous grilled Berkshire pork chop, meaty and moist despite its density and size. While we usually confine our fowl consumption to birds of the Moravian faith, the Amish chicken here is excellent, glistening in its juices, sitting on a flavorful bed of braised fennel, accented with a dollop of pepperonata on the side.
No mention of the religious persuasions of the seafood, but it gets special attention at Cielo (“chee-ellow”), with one daily chef’s special. This night it was “Thai snapper,” actually a bream, fleshy and moist, served with crushed potatoes, grilled escarole and a reduction sauce of figs and saba, a syrup of grape must that adds an earthy sweetness to the fish. The cioppino is authentic, the garlic-tomato broth loaded with chunks of lobster, mussels and shrimp. Baked salmon is worthy; the accompanying polenta is even better, studded with wild mushrooms and crumbles of speck, an Austrian (we can’t get the Italian version here) ham, brined with garlic, pepper, juniper berries and bay leaves. If a slice of pancetta married a rasher of the world’s best bacon, their offspring would be speck. If you’re torn over a seafood dish, we’ll make the decision for you. Again. Go for the prawns, half a dozen big Pacific blues, meaty and served with the heads attached, allowing all the succulent juices to remain intact. The prawns are served with a tangle of fresh spaghettini that’s—get this—purple from having Chianti added to the pasta dough. The pasta is just al dente and ripe with a delicate, winey flavor. Those lovely, yeasty ciabatta slices served on your arrival? Swish a piece through the garlic and olive oil sauce left on your plate.
Do not neglect the contorni: handmade potato chips drizzled with truffle oil and scatters of Parmesan; or the mushrooms, grilled with cipollini onions; or if you are lucky, the last of the season’s heirloom tomatoes, grilled perfectly and topped with pesto and ricotta salata.
A caramel-and-chocolate sauce with sautéed fruit makes for a sumptuous Bananas Foster. The apple crostata is even more enticing, the dough ethereally flaky, the apples tender and just touched with cinnamon.
If your regular winnings at a nearby gambling joint put you in a Trumpian tax bracket, you’ll drop a pair of C-notes for an amusing cabernet and order another for the next table as well. Otherwise, a very fine wine list is pricey. Consider the ’06 Honig sauvignon blanc with those prawns. A brawny Tuscany Fornacina ’05 has the tannins to match the pork and the richness for sipping afterward, admiring that astonishing view.
Cielo, which opened earlier this year, is spacious. Diners come off the elevator into a soaring, basketball court–sized lounge decorated with a fireplace right out of the Jetsons’ living room. A roomy bar separates the lounge from the dining room; glass partitions keep noise to a minimum throughout the space. Décor is luxuriant in that understated minimalist way that eschews clutter and celebrates formality. Tableware is simple, the china white, the serviceware handsome. Wine glasses are (blessedly) sized correctly; it’s a joy to drink from them. Tables are widely spaced, each with that extraordinary view.
Simply put, service could not be better. It began when we grudgingly accepted reservations for a time less than ideal (under our fake name, Francis Slay)—only to be called back by the manager who’d had our wishes, noted by the receptionist, passed on to him and who graciously accommodated our original request. It continued with a staff who managed to be solicitous yet never overbearing, friendly yet never presumptuous. Mark, our waiter, steered us to those glorious grilled tomatoes. The bill arrived with some house-made candies on a plate. Beautiful.
There are very few must-try new restaurants in St. Louis. Right now, Cielo is at the top of that list.
Address: 999 N. Second, Four Seasons Hotel
Phone: 314-881-5800
Website: fourseasons.com/stlouis/dining.html
Average main course: $29
Reservations: Indubitably
Dress: That perfect little black dress? The sport jacket that makes you look like the Duke of Norfolk? Break ’em out
The bottom line: Set in sleek, understated opulence, excellent Italian-inspired meals make for some of the most enjoyable formal dining in the region
