At Red Moon, East not only meets West, but the two also start going steady and consider a prenup
By Dave Lowry
Photograph by Katherine Bish
What are the most frightening words in the English language? “Ladies and gentlemen, Bea Arthur is Mame!” OK, second most frightening? How about “fusion cooking”? Yikes. Like an intercultural culinary piñata party, chefs flail about blindly, swinging away with ingredients and methods they neither understand nor appreciate, concluding that they created unique goodies when in most cases they just wreaked havoc and frightened the help. We loathe it.
So we approached Red Moon, one of the city’s newest restaurants and one touting its blend of East and West, with all the enthusiasm your spaniel shows for a trip to the vet. Unlike your dog, we were pleasantly surprised. The kitchen here is putting out one of the most successfully creative and consistently enjoyable menus around. And it is making combinations of flavors that dance on the palate and beg for a return visit. Or two.
The menu is compact—always a good sign. An even better one is that choices are difficult. Among half a dozen appetizers, the egg rolls, their skins crunchy, are stuffed with beautiful chunks of roasted duck and smoky shiitake mushrooms and served with three dipping sauces, an absolute must-try ($8). Crab cakes, nearly as good, are plump, chunky with crab, complemented by an understated chili aioli sauce that only accentuates their flavor ($12). What’s described redundantly as an ahi tuna tartare is a deliciously creditable Hawaiian poke, a salad of raw tuna and slivers of green onion ($14), nearly as tasty as the version at Yama’s Fish Market in Honolulu.
Tempeh is basically tofu jazzed with a gentle fermentation process; here, firm cubes of it work nicely as croutons in a romaine salad with a light Dijon dressing ($7). The chicken and coconut milk soup is a moderately inspired take on Thai gai tom kha, piquant with the bright smack of gingery galangal root ($6).
If you like osso buco, you will adore this version, a cantaloupe-sized pork shank, slow-simmered with a fragrant tamarind sauce and surrounded by thick egg noodles ($18). Lamb shanks get a similar treatment, wok-braised until the flesh almost falls from the bone, scented with lemon and cumin ($19). Beef short ribs are also braised to fork-tender, surrounded by carrot chunks, pearl onions and a dollop of mashed potatoes studded with chives ($18).
Rather than Frankensteinian pastiches (sweet-and-sour chitlins, wasabi ravioli), Red Moon’s approach to cross-pollinating cuisines is to tweak and fine-tune dishes. A Cornish hen, marinated in lime juice and grilled, gets bathed in a light coconut lime broth that works to counterpoint the taste of the chicken ($17). A slab of ribeye with a savory teriyaki glaze is grilled and served with a dish of aioli redolent with the taste of orange and ginger, adding another dimension to the meat without compromising it ($28).
Admittedly, it doesn’t always work. Among the seafood selections, a teriyaki-glazed salmon is ordinary; the delicate perfume of basmati rice that accompanies it is overpowered by the robust fish ($20).
However, the red snapper, deep-fried whole, is a stunning success in terms of both presentation and quality. The entire fish arrives artfully arranged upright as if swimming across the table, the flesh neatly scored, the skin beautifully crispy and golden brown with a soy-ginger glaze. The flavor of the snapper is brought to near perfection, white and firm and succulent; one of the grandest and most satisfying dishes we’ve eaten in a long time ($26).
Sides include some winners, like a platter of stir-fried shiitake mixed with garlic sautéed spinach ($5), a gingery beet slaw ($4) and thick, starchy fried plantains that are perfect for offsetting some of the wilder flavors ($4). Presentations are delightful—swirls of fried rice noodles, crispy wonton skin sails and geometric swirls of sauce add considerably to the élan. The wine list is relatively short and simple, mostly of French, Californian and Australian vintages, and conveniently divided into categories such as “sweet,” “full” and “jammy.” Given the menu’s range, you’re probably better off going with one of the many beers available.
Just a block south of Washington Avenue, Red Moon is on St. Charles Street, really an alley with a decidedly urban loading-dock-and-dumpster motif. Free valet service is available and suggested. The interior is roomy and rambling, walls splattered with dark browns and crimson and schlocky artwork. Retro padded chairs and wide booths make for comfortable seating. Note, though, that the place is noisy and grows more so as it gets crowded, with nary a soft surface to absorb sound.
A couple of clunkers include tacky bamboo chopsticks and a semiprivate dining anteroom decoupaged with thousands of glamour and skin-magazine photos of Asian women. It’s probably supposed to be “funky kitsch” but instead is creepy, like the bedroom of some guy with a yellow fever complex. Service is quick and friendly, even at peak hours, and reservations are promptly honored. Note, however, that dishes arrive when they are ready and not necessarily at the same time. Diners are advised to share, a process facilitated by a series of small plates on each table. It makes for a lingering evening, which at a place like Red Moon is time well spent.
Red Moon
Address: 1500 St. Charles
Lunch: Mon-Fri 11 a.m.–2 p.m.
Dinner: Sun-Thu 5–10 p.m., Fri-Sat 5–11 p.m.
Phone: 314-436-9700
Website: www.redmoon-stl.com
Average Main Course: $20
Dress: Like you might end up dining with the very cool and very fashionable new CEO at your company.
Reservations: A necessity.
Bottom Line: An imaginative intermingling of Asian ingredients and Western favorites in a hip, avant-garde setting that has become one of the most popular restaurants in town.
