The Beef In Kirkwood

Cue up the Copeland, 'cause beef is what's for dinner at Citizen Kane's.

By Dave Lowry

Photographs by Katherine Bish

Picture a glistening slab of ribeye with the dimensions of a phone book. Delicate rivulets of juice trickle down the sides, the glossy browned surface is branded with grill marks and the meat inside is a dark, purplish blush so sensuous it almost deserves an R rating. No presentation of a dish could be simpler; few could match it for mouthwatering appeal. There are a couple of seafood dishes and one chicken dish on the menu at Citizen Kane’s, but make no mistake—it’s about the flesh of quadrupeds, mostly beef, gloriously, masterfully prepared in a nearly unrestrained celebration of your inner carnivore. A meal here is an anti-PETA protest on a platter.

Citizen Kane’s entered the dining scene a few years back, and, in spite of bigger and older names in the local steakhouse biz, it almost immediately gained a reputation as the place for steak. A converted late-Victorian house just off Kirkwood Road, it’s easy to find—there aren’t many other life-size topiary bulls on local front lawns. Inside, somebody’s got a thing for old movies. The handsome walls, graced with wainscoting and a pleasant green paint job, are decorated with glamour photos from Hollywood’s heyday. You’ll find little of the bluster and macho of some steak joints; this is more like an upscale restaurant, polished and professional, that just happens to specialize in cuts of prime beef so magnificent that February they impressed even the skeptical Texan we brought along for a recent meal. (He thinks that if you’re too far away to hear the lowing from the Dallas stockyards, you’re out of good-steak range.)

No one would describe the Citizen Kane’s appetizer menu as trendy: The selections are entirely familiar, but they work nicely to prepare diners for what follows.

A choice of soup or salad comes with each main course. The shredded beef in the steak soup on our visit was so abundant, it was more like a bowl of chili, nicely flavored, though much too salty. The iceberg-lettuce salad is predictable; the Mayfair dressing, though, is an understated, refined version of this St. Louis favorite, with the anchovies adding just the right saltiness without any bitterness. The shrimp with cocktail sauce are like a politician’s handshake: big, firm and chilled ($9.95). Toasted ravioli are ordinary; onion rings are excellent—crispy with a lacy fried batter, sweet and juicy inside (both $6.95). For groups of three or more, we recommend the appetizer platter for two ($16.95), a sampling of opening offerings that will, if you’ve come very hungry (as you should), be just right to prepare you for the entre.

The main-course menu is so small that we expected each selection to be outstanding. We were not disappointed. Citizen Kane’s dances deftly where many a steakhouse stumbles. A common mistake is to blast the meat with heat that’s simply too high, supposedly to “seal in” the flavor. It doesn’t; it just withers the meat. Here, a lower temperature gives the surface a grilled, crusty finish but leaves the interior pink, juicy and firm.

Some places are also too fastidious in trimming meat. Our ribeye arrived with the edges of fat that are utterly essential for flavor and moisture, especially for a cut such as this one that depends so much on the fat to keep it tender. It was prepared exactly as ordered, at what the French call bleu, with just an extra instant on the grill that spells the difference between rare and medium rare. Served with a side of fresh green beans and slivered almonds, it was impossible not to savor ($28.95).

A New York strip steak was leaner and more densely textured than the ribeye, lacking much of the latter’s intramuscular fat marbling. (Actually, marbling is intramuscular fat, but we just like the way it sounds, as if we’re doctors or something.) Still, this cut from the short loin, the most tender part of the cow, was similarly rewarding. A strip steak requires absolute command of flame in the kitchen, and we were happy with a robust slice of beef with a perfect seared crust and a zesty texture ($29.95). The flavor of every cut sampled was splendidly uncomplicated. Not even the thought of a salt shaker was entertained.

For those who prefer a little distraction from such a simple preparation, there are medallions of tenderloin, grilled and served topped with a choice of bearnaise, brandy and peppercorn or a luscious sauce of Burgundy and mushrooms ($24.95). The same tenderloin appears skewered in chunky brochettes with green pepper and onions, served on a cushion of wild rice ($23.95).

A pork chop here is luxuriously, almost ridiculously plump. The side of horseradish sauce is far too sweet, a syrupy treacle as thick as Paula Deen’s drawl with a presence equally irritating. This T-bone–style chop is bursting with flavor, moist, meaty and needing no dressing or decoration on the palate ($23.95).

Shrimp comes sautéed in a garlic-infused white-wine sauce with pasta ($19.95); a charbroiled chicken breast is served with farfalle pasta along with roasted peppers in an olive oil–and–garlic sauce ($18.95), and a fresh-seafood special varies according to what’s available ($22.95). Sides for main courses include a homey production of chopped potatoes pan-fried with onions and peppers in olive oil, mashed potatoes studded with roasted garlic and a creamed spinach that’s not great but still light-years better than the last time you had it.

The wine list is modest but well-selected, with plenty of robust, uncomplicated reds hefty enough to match the meat. There’s a good and affordable selection of purplish Pinot Noirs, including a young ’04 Echelon that’s packed with oak and fruit ($28). Suggested: the ’01 Wellington, a Cabernet Sauvignon from Sonoma that’s got just the right balance of tannins and fruit, along with an extra-innings finish, to complement the beef here. A big dessert platter rotates to show off creme brulee, carrot cake and other offerings.

The interior of Citizen Kane’s is surprisingly spacious, yet each room—remember, it’s a converted house—has a cozy, intimate feel. Upstairs rooms have tables closely spaced, but the noise level is benign. Our service was friendly, knowledgeable and well-timed. One off note is the silverware—flimsy and more suitable for a grammar-school cafeteria than for a steakhouse of this caliber. That aside, it’s hard to find flaws in Citizen Kane’s, which deserves its fast-growing reputation..

Address: 133 W. Clinton, Kirkwood

Phone: 314-965-9005

Dinner: 5 p.m. Tue–Sat

Average main course: $26

Reservations: Necessary

Dress: As Samuel “T-Bonz” Johnson put it, “familiar but not coarse, and elegant but not ostentatious.”

Bottom line: One of the area’s premier steakhouses, with all the trimmings, in a charming Victorian manse