Among the hottest dining spots around, An American Place lives up to its reputation
By Dave Lowry
Photographs by Katherine Bish
Surrounded by a buzz nearly equal to that resulting from the unfortunately leaked video of my weekend with Salma Hayek in Ibiza, An American Place debuted late last year. It has generated more talk in St. Louis than any other restaurant, and even after several months, reservations, particularly on weekends, can be impossible. What was once a wide and empty hall on the west side of the Renaissance Grand Hotel has been transformed into a stunning eatery that, upon entering, seems cavernous. “It looks like the bank scene from Spiderman 2,” commented one young diner. Ceilings lavishly decorated in patterns of white and Wedgwood blue soar overhead, supported by grand pilaster columns. The emphasis is on the ornate and opulent, but a cleverly placed lounge area in the middle of the dining room, lavish floral arrangements and felicitous lighting all work to personalize and manage the enormous amount of open space here.
One knows if a menu is small but choices are still difficult that the meal will at least be interesting. Such is the case at An American Place. The kitchen’s apparent goal is to use fabulously fresh and top-notch ingredients and set about playing with them to create innovative dishes. It’s a tough act, and missteps are likely to be egregious. A good example of the latter is an appetizer of shrimp glazed in a “mango-chile barbecue sauce” that simply overwhelms these delicate creatures ($9.50). Fortunately, An American Place is defter with most offerings. A salad of roasted beets with baby greens, shaved apples and candied hazelnuts with a plum vinaigrette is both piquant and refreshing ($8.50). Clams are roasted perfectly and paired with a homey sweet corn cake ($8.50). An unusual lobster salad drenched in sake, with the sweet meat dressed in shredded lemongrass and shiso leaves of the sort normally found on a sushi plate, also works nicely ($12.50).
Main courses are all worth a try. “Drunken” roasted chicken breast is not so much besotted as just tipsy after a simmering in a fruity Chardonel, then roasted and served with caramelized onions, baby turnips, tiny fingerling potatoes and rich chestnuts ($19.50). The matching of plump gnocchi with chanterelles, pecans and sautéed Swiss chard is perfect with a fillet of veal, the flavors of these sides delicate and varied enough to accent the tender meat without disguising its taste ($29). Following a happy trend of re-introducing game meats to restaurants, elk is offered. A fillet of it, cut thick from the tenderloin, was superb—pan-roasted to juicy, beefy perfection. Accompanied by an equally outstanding purée of roasted parsnips with a wonderful, almost sweet, polenta-like texture, this meal had a medieval feel and taste, including the slightest touch of cinnamon in the seasoning ($28.50).
Striped bass is brought to just-cooked perfection in a pan and served with a dollop of ragoût made with tiny white beans, peppery bacon, broccoli rabe and mushrooms ($22.50). Another thick ragoût of local mushrooms and greens comes with a strip steak, along with a baked potato and an interesting blue cheese dumpling that fans of the pungent cheese will adore ($32). Still another ragoût, this one featuring tomatoes and simmered veal, is used to accompany fresh sheets of rippled pappardelle pasta ($17.50).
Desserts are entertaining without being too cloyingly heavy or sweet. Go with the root beer float ($7.50). Hard to get much more American than that. The cheese plate, with some spectacular farm and homemade cheeses, should not be missed ($8.50).
The wine selection is what one would expect in a place of this caliber, and, given the penchant for things domestic, the products of American vineyards are prominently featured. Avoid the pricey Cabernet Sauvignons. A Sauvignon Blanc, Napa’s famous Cakebread, is a relative bargain for the ’03 vintage ($39), or go with one of the Zinfandels.
We do have some criticisms. Even if prices were cut in half, the amount of food delivered to the table is insufficient. But it is flagrantly noticeable when, for instance, an herbed tian of crabmeat layered with avocado, topped with sunflower sprouts in an oyster mousseline dressing and about the size of an olive jar lid costs $10.50. The elk, though delicious, was not much larger than the credit card used to pay for it. Some less egregious flaws might be overlooked in a lesser-quality restaurant, but here one expects them to be addressed as the place hits its stride. Clunky metal chargers were left on the table after the bread was served. Dinnerware has the heft and balance—and nearly the dimensions—of a fireplace poker, and a straight-handled soupspoon made a delicious bisque awkward to eat.
And finally, just as we do not need to know the brand of soap used in the dishwasher or the laundry that cleans the napkins, we do not care about the purveyors of the food at a restaurant. Its quality speaks eloquently. Places like this deserve considerable credit for the care they’re taking in procuring the absolute best in ingredients. But listing every farmer or fishmonger on the menu comes across as precious and self-conscious.
By the way, even if you, like us, are willing to park for cheap on the street at distances resulting in hikes that would make Sacajawea blanch, go ahead and use the valet service here. It’s free.
An American Place is an extraordinary restaurant, already a “You must go to ...” destination. One hopes that with time and some attention to portion size and other details, it will soon become a “We go there all the time” sort of place.
An American Place
Address: 800 Washington, in the Renaissance Hotel
Phone: 314-418-5800
Average Main Course: $25
Dress: B2. Strictly Brooks Brothers.
Reservations: You betcha.
Bottom Line: Masterfully selected ingredients combined in unusual presentations along with a fine sense of the best in American cuisine in a semiformal atmosphere that will please even the most discriminating diner.
