An open letter of thanks for a job—and dinner—well done
By Dave Lowry
Photograph by Katherine Bish
Dear Terrene,
Many thanks for the lovely meal the other night. Afterward, while waiting at the entrance for someone in our party who didn’t think she could wait 20 whole minutes to get home to use the facilities, we were approached by a woman who asked what we thought of our experience. She was distracted and the moment didn’t seem right for an in-depth conversation, so, at this remove, this is what we thought:
You’ve got a wonderful restaurant in a convenient location on the block that separates Lindell from Forest Park Avenue. Your interior has a suave polish about it, upscale and informal. The hard stone floors, hard tables made from recycled something-or-other, and molded-plastic chairs that manage to remain comfortable are all chic—but not acoustically forgiving. Along with high ceilings, they afford your place the quiet and subdued ambience of the floor of a commodities exchange after the opening bell. The original pressed-tin ceiling is a splendid touch. The long piece of artwork along the back wall, apparently a tribute to urban vandalism, is ghastly.
There’s a bit of self-congratulatory preciousness in your menu, its margins decorated with reminders of how eco-riffic you are, including one informing us that kitchen scraps here are responsibly composted. Um, our interest in the orts and leavings of the kitchen are roughly approximate—we can only assume—to your interest in the final destination of our meal once we’ve processed it, OK? Speaking of that menu, however, it was compact, but almost unexceptionally praiseworthy. There was hardly a dish, appetizer, main course or dessert, that didn’t tempt. We had to be careful, in fact, not to go overboard on the appetizers that were generous in portion and irresistible after the first bite. The billiard ball–sized head of garlic was roasted correctly, the interior soft and gooshy, squeezed out on crunchy crostini and complemented by the harissa olives on the side. The flatbreads were wonderful: yeasty, light and deliciously adorned with chunks of roasted potato, Gruyère and smoked chicken. The miso soup was tempting—but the pickled ginger didn’t belong in it. The salad of “just greens” was just that: fresh, delicate and tangy, decorated with slivers of tomato and finished with just the right touch of a roasted-shallot verjus. Sprinkles of Asiago cheese, splinters of garlic bread and crumbles of boiled egg all worked nicely on the big leaves of romaine and made for a salad that ate like a meal.
Of the eight main courses and handful of specials available that night, we could have settled happily on any. But no way were we leaving without trying the seafood stew, especially given the excellent additional description provided by our waiter—and he did not exaggerate. Served in a wide white tureen, the generous, steaming portion of stew glowed with saffron, the liquid luscious and silky with the addition of a coconut- and cashew-infused broth. A hunk of salmon sat atop a jumble of shrimp, scallops, clams, mussels and tiny rounds of carrot—and not one ingredient was over- or undercooked. There was a wonderful coherence in this dish, a mélange of tastes and textures, none of them overpowering, not one superfluous ($24). You aren’t kidding when you advertise a “thick cut chop” on the menu, either. Two bones protruded from the pork chop (which was the width of a phone book, we might add), and the pan roasting gave the surface a crusty brown glaze and kept the meat inside bursting with juices. What set the dish apart—aside from the excellent cut and quality of the pork—was your sauce, a creative combination of pear juice and green peppercorns that highlighted and concentrated the taste of the meat. The pilaf of wild rice and toasted barley alongside added an enjoyable complement. And whoever matched the polenta with the chicken breast in the kitchen deserves compliments. The breast, pan-roasted and juicy, was glazed with a pomegranate reduction; the creamy polenta swirled around wilted greens was simple and inspired.
We saw that look of resignation in our waiter’s eye when the Boisterous Party of 13 came cackling from the bar on their way to the tables pushed together to accommodate their herd. Why such a stampede would choose a place such as yours for a birthday celebration is beyond us, too, so we can scarcely blame him for the service that slowed markedly after their entrance. That probably accounted for the steak that was past the medium rare ordered when it finally arrived. We didn’t complain. It was a good steak, a hanger cut, and the sides—herb gnocchi, beefy shiitake mushrooms and golden butternut squash—were exceptional. So were the steak frites with their sprinkling of black pepper and salt. We passed, for ethical reasons, on your “tofu cacciatore style.” Thoughtless hunters there have so depleted Italy’s native population of wild tofu that we cannot in good conscience consume it.
Desserts, such as a blueberry custard pie and a panna cotta enriched and sharpened with the addition of goat cheese, were adventurous and illustrative of a place that’s willing to take chances that will please regular customers and entice new ones.
Some connoisseurs will object to your decision to eschew the standard method of categorizing your wine list by type or country, but we liked the fact that we could select from “big and intense” or “minerally and crisp,” “buttery,” “dry, fruity, and refreshing” and other helpful and accurate appellations that really described the wine—we hope you’ll start a trend with this concept. Your individual descriptions of wines are even more outstanding: The ’03 Benton Lane Pinot Noir—“boysenberry+currant fruits, toasty+smoky overtones”—has probably never been better or more accurately described.
Even though your interior isn’t huge, you have arranged things in such a way that one never feels crowded. The small bar’s convenient location in a separate space kept the conversations there from adding any more cacophony to the Greek wedding–decibel din of the main dining area, yet it’s still convenient to get to a table when one becomes available there—and we’ll be back in the spring to enjoy the patio.
That’s all for now. Love and kisses to staffers who obviously care about making your establishment a success and who know their jobs and do them well.
Your Friend and Customer,
Dave
Terrene
Address: 33 N. Sarah
Phone: 314-535-5100
Average Main Course: $20
Reservations: Indubitably
Dress: Terrene is deep in the dark heart of urban-hip territory, so dress the part.
Bottom Line: A satisfying and utterly worthwhile dining experience with creative combinations of fresh foods and even fresher presentations
