Photograph by Kevin A. Roberts
“Sorry, I’m like a preacher,” confesses the owner of three of the city’s most famous restaurants—Niche, Brasserie, and Taste. Gerard Craft was evangelizing about how quality, passion, and commitment factor into the relocated Niche, opening this fall in Clayton, and his fourth restaurant, Pastaria, a casual and family-centric fresh pasta/pizza joint scheduled to open this month next to Niche’s new location. Eater, one of the more influential food blogs in the country, already named it one of the “25 Most Anticipated Restaurant Openings of 2012.”
Why has the opening of Pastaria attracted national attention?
I’m really not sure. Maybe it’s because we started sharing our journey—whether it’s through our blog or through different publications. I wish I’d done it with Brasserie and chronicled my research trips to France.
Pastaria’s website says simply Pastaria...you’ve dropped the “by Niche.” Why?
They are two very different restaurants, and we thought it confusing if the names stayed together...price, flavor pairings, approach, tone—all are very different. People can trust the quality and care, but we need to build this as its own entity.
The idea for Pastaria has been in your head for a while, has it not?
It started out as Porano [a city in Italy] four years ago. It was to be inexpensive, rustic Italian fare, and we wanted to do that in the old Chez Leon space. Instead, we went with Brasserie there...which is inexpensive, rustic, and French.
So Pastaria is really Porano, Version 2.0 or 3.0?
At least 3.0. And I’m glad we waited, because Pastaria was designed to appeal to more people, which you almost have to do today.
Can you sum up the concept in one sentence?
A place for everybody.
That’s it? Families and those on a date don’t usually frequent the same restaurant.
Every restaurant has its own purpose and time. Take Niche: We see some people every week and others just for an occasion, but all go for a special experience. Pastaria will be a special experience, too, but different: You’ll be comfortable with a date or with your friends or family. I see this as a kind of town hall—a lively, convivial place where people see their friends and neighbors and will get up to go visit with them. In Italy, it’s called an osteria—no tablecloths, nothing too fancy, but it’s where everybody goes to have supper and everybody’s equal.
What have been your biggest obstacles so far?
Not being rigid helps. We don’t have a box that we must stay in. We stay fluid enough that nothing much surprises us. Occasionally, though, chef egos get in the way.
You’re not egotistical.
I don’t think I am either, but as chefs, our nature is to dress everything up, instead of doing what the Italians do so well—simplify—to let good ingredients and good technique stand for themselves. One of our dishes is stoccafisso, salt cod that’s been cooked in olive oil with potatoes and a few herbs—and that’s it. But the dish is perfect. The potatoes alone are incredible. It’s so refreshing to eat like that.
Simplicity really is difficult.
That’s because you can’t hide behind anything. My favorite pizza is the margherita, because being so simple—tomato, cheese, herb, crust—makes it the perfect barometer of what a pizza should be. Other pizzas are fun, but that’s the test.
Will your pizza be Neapolitan style?
Neapolitan-inspired, but it’s definitely our own pizza, one that we tweaked for a long time, mainly in my back yard, where the wood oven was being stored. I love Neapolitan pizza, but this isn’t it.
Another issue is providing a top-quality product at a family-friendly price. What’s your secret there?
Being a larger restaurant group helps buying power. We sourced two different levels of olive oil in Italy, an affordable oil from Abruzzo that we’ll be selling in bulk and a high-end one—that we’ll also sell—from near Florence. Bommarito Wines is a big Italian wine importer here, and they’ve helped us with the logistics in Italy. We can guarantee buying a certain amount of flour or an entire crop of something. We’re creating friendships—here and abroad—as well as lowering our costs. I know exactly where our Parmesan is coming from; I know where our balsamic vinegar is coming from. This guy makes the best in the world. You can get it over at Extra Virgin; it’s called San Giacomo. We’ll use his lambrusco salad vinegar as well. He had us drinking lambrusco before every meal in Reggio-Emilia.
Talk about the menu mix.
Entrées will be $10 to $17; all of the pastas will be entrée-sized and $10 to $15 at the most; I see pizzas at $13 max; things like roasted meats may hit $20, but everything else will fall well below that number. Pastaria will not take reservations, which will help to keep menu prices lower. We stopped taking them at Taste, too, and it’s really improved the flow. You have to allocate so much time per table, which can be very inefficient.
Why didn’t you take the curved, glassed-in space to the east, the place that looks like it was designed to be a restaurant?
We wanted to create warmth, and that can be hard to do if that much wall space is made up of windows. We wanted street-front restaurants; we didn’t want to be part of the corporate tower.
But I get the impression that Pastaria is one, big, sprawling room.
It could be that, but it’s not: It will only seat 120—and that includes the bar—plus another 60 in a private mezzanine that we’ll share with Niche. There’ll be patio seats, and 16 near the kitchen, in the pass, where you can immerse yourself in all the action.
Not nearly as big as I thought.
We took out seats to create a little retail section: There’s a gelato bar, plus fresh pastas, our olive oils, the flour we use, sandwiches to go. We may incorporate other products—like Companion’s bread—and put together some meal kits. The pasta will all be made there, right in the front window.
For a long time, St. Louis lagged behind the major culinary cities, but lately we seem to have been making up ground. Is that a fair assessment, or is every city doing the same?
The culinary bar is getting raised around the country, true. The recession has helped that: a lot of chefs have moved closer to their roots. Look at [Jenny] Cleveland and [Eric] Heath, two really top-notch people who opened their restaurant very near to where Jenny grew up. Chefs are coming home. But as far as waiving the St. Louis flag, we’re doing a very good job at that, and people are noticing: We can thank the media as well as local diners, who are talking us up across the country. As chefs, we are just trying to create the place where we live.
But doesn’t there seem to be a disproportionate number of basic diners here?
People by nature are not super adventurous. There are basic and non-basic diners all across the country. It’s just that in New York there are a whole lot more of the latter, and their hangouts get the attention. We’re never going to be New York because we’ll never have those numbers. And that’s fine; that’s not the reason we live here. But think about it: One of New York’s most successful restaurants is Peter Luger, and it’s a steakhouse. Or look at France: The bistros and brasseries—the basic places—are where all of the people go. That’s why we’re trying to cook a little something for everybody.
You’ve always said you’ll continue to push, to explore.
Right. Food, techniques, different restaurants, the region—all of it.
