By George Mahe
Photograph by Richard Nichols
OK, St. Louisans, it’s time to get over it: the inferiority complex, the trepidation about venturing downtown and the lack of five-star hotels and restaurants to brag about. Lumière Place and Hubert Keller have arrived. Scheduled to open this month north of Laclede’s Landing, the half-billion-dollar beacon includes a certain luxury hotel that rhymes with “Floor Reasons” and seven restaurants, two of them created and operated by Keller: a second location for his internationally acclaimed Burger Bar—home of the $5,000 burger that pairs a Kobe beef patty with a bottle of 1990 Château Pétrus—and his first steakhouse, Sleek. His restaurants are legendary, he’s a rising star on PBS, he’s—refreshingly—the antithesis of “Head Chef and Ogre” ... and now he’s here, the newest Frenchman to discover our riverfront.
Why us? Why not New York, LA, or Chicago?
From what I can tell, it’s the right moment. A lot is happening here, downtown. Plus, other chefs have copied Burger Bar—there are six in Vegas alone—but nothing like it here.
Does that irritate you?
Oh, no, no, no, no, no. It’s flattering because we started it—three years before them. I’d guess that every chef that jumped on the wagon would never have risked it before Burger Bar.
Had you been to St. Louis before?
No, but I know it’s a big sports town. I see Burger Bar developing into a sports bar here—there’s 24 beers on tap, rare bottled beers, TVs in the booths, a great sound system and our own videos for when there are no sports.
Will this Burger Bar be the same or new and improved?
This one will be fine-tuned, with a glassed-in butcher shop. You can actually see them grinding and pattying the beef. You can see that every burger is hand-pattied and grilled almost immediately: The Show Me State, eh? Everything is out in the open.
Are the meats blended in any way?
Oh, no, no, no, no, no. It’s all beef, all lamb, all turkey. We have our special way of preparing the meat that I cannot share, but no special seasonings. All I will say is that there are many steps involved.
You also sell a “sweet” burger? Was that your creation?
Yes. We use chocolate, nuts, cheesecake ... all flavors we grew up with. For the bun, we warm a house-made donut, one without a hole in it, shape the ganache like a patty, add strawberries and kiwi, and to imitate the cheese, a gelée out of passion fruit that we cut into squares.
How long will you stay here?
I will alternate from here to Vegas to San Francisco. Burger Bar’s corporate chef, Laurent [Pillard], is moving here as well, as well as another chef to run Sleek. We plan to be at peak level from day one.
So you’ve stacked the deck here, so to speak. I hear [former Bellagio executive chef Robert Flowers] is also on board. This is a high-octane team.
Robert is very talented, very enthusiastic. He will be executive chef for all of Lumière’s restaurants here, except for my restaurants and the Asian one. Ours will be independent operations.
How many Burger Bars are you planning? You can take this anywhere.
Right now, we concentrate here. Next year, we will open in San Francisco with our first free-stander, probably near Union Square.
We have to mention your $65 “Rossini” burger. How many do you sell?
More than you might think. The Rossini gives the complete gourmet burger experience, adding foie gras and truffles, which, for as many as we use, at $1,500 a pound ... it’s a good story and even a good deal.
I sense it will inspire some “I’ve had one” bragging-rights claims.
It’s not so outrageous that you can’t try it just one time.
Are there any restrictions on the toppings a customer can choose? Is there anything you just won’t do?
No. People can have fun with it…you can’t order it wrong. Simple, outrageous—it’s your burger. Prices are reasonable [$8 base], but if you spend a little too much, it’s your choice. Even the lobster tail is popular. There’s never ever been the smallest complaint.
The success of Burger Bar is like a fairy tale.
We have conventioneers that come to Burger Bar for all three days that they are in Vegas. Those stories prove we are doing it right.
I’m nearly out of ink, and we still haven’t talked about Sleek. How will this steakhouse be different?
We’re not reinventing beef or the cuts of beef, but what is different is our appetizers and sides. You may get three incredible mashed potatoes, maybe lobster, horseradish and basil. And the quality of the sauces will stand out as well. Our chef’s table will have a private passageway to the wine cellar, and we’ll prepare a sauce to exactly match the wine that was chosen.
Are there any sure-fire items we’ll see from Fleur de Lys?
Varieties of baeckeoffe [a terrine], and the soufflés—so popular, and so old they’re new again.
Do you plan to serve either American or Japanese Kobe beef—and is there a difference?
We will serve both, among others. Japanese Kobe is a whole different animal … they feed them beer, better grains, massage them with sake. Plus the middlemen—they all contribute to the very price.
Is it worth the price?
You can tell the difference, side by side. And there are many grades in between. Part of our task will be to see how Americans react to it. For some, it will be a big deal. But we won’t mark it up the way we should, because we want to provide that experience of something new.
Is there a French technique or method that American chefs haven’t picked up on, or something they just don’t get?
No. Thirty years ago, yes. But it has changed … cooking was not a glamorous, sought-after career then. A mother would brag about her son if he were a doctor or lawyer. Today, she talks the same way, with just as much pride, about her son the chef. Today, young chefs from every country travel to all the good cooking schools, they pick up a lot, and often return home. We all end up better for it.
You co-authored a book, Eat More, Weigh Less; you’re a French chef who cooks “healthy. These things make you an anomaly, yes?
Yes, you are right. It started 20 years ago—it was not me jumping on that wagon because of the health issues. When I took over Fleur de Lys, it was the early ’80s, French restaurants were not doing well, the California cuisine was coming at us from Berkeley. We were advised to even change the name, because Fleur de Lys would not do. We did keep the name, but we changed some techniques.
What did you change?
Traditional French is very rich, with lots of fat. We changed that. The true test is when you get up from a 6-course menu and feel good. For example, we take garlic cloves and blanch them three times in separate vessels of boiling water, then sear them in a pan, run that through a blender, and you get an ivory-colored cream that is totally smooth. Blanching three times takes the sharpness away. This way I can use garlic in several courses. You get all the garlic taste with no after-effects later on. Or my lamb jus…I make it without a roux, and add a bit of that garlic purée. The jus becomes a little lighter; it looks like it has butter in it, like a lightly creamed sauce that just happens to have no cream in it. With a little tarragon to give a sense of spice, the flavor is great because it does not overpower, and there’s zero fat.
So you’ll have room for that soufflé.
It’s true. Or when I prepare stock, I refrigerate the stock immediately with no stirring, at least overnight, to separate the fat cake. Next day I strain it and start the reduction to make a no-fat demi-glace. You can’t see or tell if there’s fat in a sauce, but you’ll feel it….
… then wear it. So do you use these techniques at home? Do you even cook at home?
My wife, Chantal, does all the cooking at home.
If you had but one final meal, what would be on the menu?
I would start with caviar, then a rib-eye, probably a soufflé, then end with vanilla ice cream.
Vanilla ice cream…no accoutrements with that?
It would be the vanilla ice cream my father used to make at home that we spooned right out of the machine….fresh, real vanilla ice cream. Incomparable.
You are known for “perfection in food and service”. Do you have any secrets for making things special on the floor?
Again, we stress the entire experience, the performance in and out of the kitchen. You can be the best chef in the world, but if one person at the table doesn’t get what they wanted, the experience can be lost for everyone. With the team that we’re moving here, from day one we expect be at the same level as our other restaurants.
There’s a very narrow window. And St. Louis is a fickle restaurant town.
No, it’s everywhere. If you miss the beginning, then you have a tough time getting back. We will be here for six weeks getting ready.
Do you plan to sell your $5,000 “Fleur” burger here, or is that strictly a Vegas high-roller special?
It will be available at Sleek. But even in Vegas, we only sold seven in a year.
Might you add a little local interest, maybe pair it with a Budweiser and knock a grand off the price?
Oh, no, no, no, no, no.
