Photograph by Kevin A. Roberts
Having opened eight restaurants, the most recent being The Shaved Duck and Eclipse, chef Wes Johnson has announced “I’m ready”—ready to finally open a place of his own, ready to sing solo. It is curious that the stage he chose, though, was originally a funeral home (and most recently the restaurant Savor), a site vacant for almost three years and one considered “a difficult location” by other restaurateurs. Will Johnson be the next Susan Boyle… or William Hung? Will he get an ovation or the hook? Salt is scheduled to bow in this month, and believe it, the local dining community is all ears.
How long have you been cooking?
I grew up on a family farm outside of Buffalo, Mo., population 2,500. Those who grow up on a farm usually end up cooking on that farm—and I did, too. It wasn’t until after my stint in the military. It hit me while I was working at a country club. I was 24.
If I may ask, how old are you? You don’t look much older than that now, like 28.
I’m 38, and thank you. Most people don’t know how old I am.
Was there a point, though, when you said, yes, this chef thing is definitely what I want to do?
The country club chef was active in the ACF [American Culinary Foundation], and both sous chefs were talented and eager to teach me. I got hooked on the whole program right there and decided to enroll in culinary school at a community college in southwest Missouri. The program was about the size of Forest Park’s.
Does an aspiring cook have to go to school to get a good job, or could it be argued that cooking school is a big waste of time and money?
The answer is no, and it often is. Number one, some guys just don’t have it going in and may never get it; second, they go in blind…they have no idea what our field is about. They need to hang in a kitchen—really experience it—before they invest in a school that makes it a profession. The image is cool, and [smiling], the reality is not quite as cool…we spend a lot of time scrubbing pots.
Plus, culinary schools are producing graduates who have to pay back bundles in loans, with few opportunities to do so.
If tuition comes out of pocket, like it did when I was working full-time to attend class, you avoid debt. And you need to avoid it….it’s too much pressure. Mine was a long process—three years—but I know I had a better understanding than those in shorter programs.
Did you ever have any aspirations to do anything else?
We all question our direction at some point. My diversion was working at an ad agency. I loved the research and development, the analytical end. But not that much. Being behind a desk drained me.
More than a kitchen?
Oddly, yes. For me, kitchens are more physical but less draining. I’m good for 20 minutes in front of a computer screen, then I have to get up and do something else. I just enjoy the demands of a kitchen.
Can you sit through a movie? I know many chefs who can’t.
Well I can, and once I start a movie, I have to finish it, no matter how bad it is. And I’ve watched a bunch of really bad movies.
You’ve had a hand in some of St. Louis’ more unique restaurants. Which one are you most proud of?
Eclipse serves 24 hours a day, so it was the biggest challenge. But I’m proudest of The Shaved Duck, which was actually easier to do than the others, because the food was as edgy and progressive as we intended it to be. We didn’t make concessions and the diners could see it.
What part of Eclipse was different than you anticipated?
Operating a hotel restaurant 24/7/365 is always going to be a challenge, as was Joe’s [Edwards] desire to attract a non-traditional demographic to the Loop and create an additional attraction. And we did all that.
How does 24-hour-a-day service work? Doesn’t quality suffer?
Late night menus have to be simple, but really, the hardest part is to buy into to the labor model that makes it all possible. It’s expensive, but Joe Edwards is committed to it, just like he is to his “hours” policy. His restaurants never close early, regardless of lack of customers, the weather...or the weather forecast. How many restaurateurs are that focused?
I know where I’m eating on the next snowy night.
And that’s exactly how Joe wants you to think. Late night, too—-Eclipse serves the full dinner menu until 2 a.m., every night.
There are some who say Eclipse’s menu is now simpler, and more geared to the masses, similar to what happened at The Duck? Fair assessment?
It has to be. The hotel sees a really wide customer base, from corporate guests to Bret Michael’s fans, which is what makes it so cool. And since there’s only one restaurant in the hotel, not accommodating them all is short-sighted.
I know you intend on remaining part-time at Eclipse…how do you open a major restaurant and pull that off?
I thought I could but I couldn’t. But how unusual is it that Joe Edwards was willing to let me even try?
Precious few employers would even consider it.
He knows he call on me anytime for anything, as can Ally [Nisbet, owner of The Scottish Arms] who offered me help since I was now in his neighborhood. I‘ve been fortunate to have worked for two truly great guys.
I’ll flip that around. I contend that recently there are really good guy chefs, too.
And this city has more than its share.
We all know who they are. Not a skillet slinger in the bunch.
Nowadays restaurant kitchens are built on mutual respect. That’s one reason I’ve made this city my home…nice guys are more the norm than the exception. They stay in touch, they socialize, they collaborate There’s Josh’s [Galliano] Chef’s Night Out, the other Josh’s [Allen] Chef’s CollaBREADtive—there’s a lot more sharing in this community than in any other I’ve worked. My chef at The Duck, Brendan Noonan, share almost everything to this day.
It’s a shame owner Ally Nisbet chose to simplify both the concept and menu at The Duck.
Although critically accepted, it struggled during the week, and therefore was not a financial success. In another location, who knows? Which brings us to Salt…
Yes, how long have you been planning on doing your own place? Is that every chef’s dream?
For most it is, but there is a window—a right time and place—to set it in motion. Honestly, I was not ready until now…and I knew it. After opening eight restaurants, I feel I know enough—about all aspects of the business—to take the big step.
Wouldn’t it just be easier to snag some cushy, high-paying country club job?
I did that already--minus that pay—but no. Country club members tend to want the same item every time they come in. They are creatures of habit…
Is that a bad thing?
No, but I like the challenge of creating every day. Some chefs prefer a club’s routinized stability, a lot do not. But that health insurance sure is nice…
How did you settle on a location that many others passed on? The place is big.
It’s 10,000 square feet, but a lot of that is storage and unusable space. If you compartmentalize the dining rooms using those pocket doors, it can look busy even on slow nights, which is good. No one wants to get swallowed by a big room on a random Tuesday night.
Still, how do you get over its size when other restaurants are struggling to fill fewer seats?
Even fully opened up, Salt only seats 70, plus 35 in the bar and another 25 on the patio. It’s not as big as everyone thinks.
But that’s just on the main floor.
There is a 14-seat wine room downstairs and a 40-person private room--plus a small theater—upstairs, two staging areas that can be used in conjunction with each other.
I remember seeing Erin Bode in that theater. It was fantastic.
May happen again. It’ll be possible for artists—rather than us--to sell that space. They know their audience better than we do.
With the yellow walls and blond-wood chairs, it seems brighter Savor.
Savor felt formal and dining just isn’t that formal anymore—great food is now found in very casual settings. So you’ll see linens, yes, but in a soft, sandalwood color, with white butcher paper on top. Today’s diners want come-as-you-are spaces. There’s a place and a time for dressy dining—like at the country club—and I’m fine leaving it there.
I see you have both salt and pepper mills on the table? Why don’t more places do that?
I don’t know. It allows for different salts, a variety of peppercorns…more expression. And it enhances our farm-to-table message.
Should we keep your “wine locker” program a secret as well?
We have some different ideas for wine and that’s one of them…customers can purchase wine from us at a discount and store it here. We may have some interesting twists on corkage fees as well.
Why the name Salt?
Salt has been used forever in conjunction with food and it mirrors my simple and straightforward approach to cooking. A dish could have eight ingredients, but it may be better with five. Pure flavors jump out better that way. Overdoing does not equal doing well.
How much of the menu will be made in house?
Most all of it…we’ll break down the proteins and we’ll bake the bread.
Will there be any sure-fire items, any prior successes?
The cornbread-stuffed saddle of rabbit from The Duck will reappear, as will the butter-poached filet, the one we served with bone marrow.
How about the duck fat fries?
Maybe. That was a tough item. Duck fat is temperamental and requires constant adjustment as the fries’ moisture content–and even the humidity—changes. Now we are excited about our pork fat-fried almonds with rosemary and sea salt, which we feel are similarly addictive.
Any more signature items?
I have big plans for our fennel garlic pork meatballs, with a blackberry jam glaze. All those flavors really do go great together.
What is the main reason a diner should patronize your restaurant versus some place up the street?
My goal is to be chef-forward—in the kitchen and on the floor—to convey to customers that I’m making dinner just for them, one on one. We’re both looking for the same thing, really—a real experience and a personal connection to the restaurant.
With factors like Groupons and a shift to more casual dining in play, do you think the price point of dining is heading downward…permanently?
Food prices are going up so it simply can’t. Those coupon programs keep restaurant owners up at night… If they use them repeatedly, it will drive their everyday menu prices upward. That’s scary. Salt’s prices will be appropriate, with entrees from $12-$24 max, and diners will see value at that level. I don’t want to have to negotiate with my customers.
What’s the biggest misconception with coupons?
For me, it’s whether they will produce new, repeat customers or people who just come in for the deal and disappear until your next deal. A new face is not automatically a new customer. It mat be better to hand select strangers a $10 bill under the stipulation they have to spend it at your restaurant. That’d be different. They would remember you.
I love to ask about anecdotes. You have a favorite?
At The Shaved Duck, the chefs handled any food complaints personally. One night, a woman was hot happy with our vegetarian item and there was nothing my partner Brendan—the nicest, most humble, tactful guy you could ever meet--could do to make it right. The next day, we saw online that woman’s recap of the interaction, where she, among other things, admonished Brendan for having belittled her. We were so amazed she could be saying that about Brendan. The following weekend, three parties—one an 8 top—said they’d heard about this belittling chef and asked—no, insisted—that he come out and belittle them. That woman’s credibility was written between the lines and fortunately we weren’t the only ones who noticed.
What is your most unusual customer request and did you accommodate?
My philosophy is, if they’re willing to wait and we have the product, we will accommodate. We once made a hamburger—we had to grind up some beef tenderloin—to get this guy his burger, on a bun we cut out of foccacia. And we charged him for a filet because that’s what we ground up.
Which do you remember more, customer compliments or the complaints?
It’s funny that I don’t remember specific compliments, but I do the complaints. I remember every word and every intonation…and carry them around like luggage.
