Photograph by Katherine Bish
There's Lady Gaga fame, and then there's Bach's Minuet in G Major fame—the kind that generates near-endless interpretations and still never gets old. Harvest's renown? It's the latter. Year after year, the Richmond Heights restaurant exemplifies what is fine and enjoyable about dining. Ambience like this isn't an accident. Natural wood, soft Mediterranean colors, subtle lighting. Rustic tile floors. A crackling fireplace. It's intimate, inviting, like being in a Provence kitchen. Only you can understand the language, and they have better food.
Speaking of which, the menu is a gourmet's wish book. Harvest hits that difficult target: It balances top-flight professionalism with verve, a kitchen unafraid of razzle-dazzle, and a solid mastery of the nuances of technique. Presentations are artistic and graceful, inviting, platter-sized still lifes. Check out that glistening pink fillet of sockeye salmon tipped just so against an umber heap of native wild mushrooms. Or the tower of Bill Gates–rich brioche bread pudding, dripping rivulets of bourbon caramel sauce from its heights.
Then there's the pairing of taste and texture: a luscious, golden, pan-seared foie gras with cherry compote, ruinously satisfying, the syrupy sweetness of the fruit bouncing off all that luxurious fat. Pungent goat-cheese crumbles add an unctuous dimension to a delicate salad of baby beets. Harvest concocts splendid combinations that deliver first-class to the palate. Halibut is pan-roasted, served with a mild risotto studded with emerald English peas. Beef short ribs are braised, just touched with a fragrant barbecue sauce, and matched with creamy coleslaw. Soft-shell crab, fried in a lacy buttermilk batter, is paired with a buttery-smooth sautéed shrimp rémoulade that tastes like your first kiss. It's impossible not to become distracted by sides, like sautéed spinach, mashed potatoes threaded with blue cheese, and buttermilk-fried onion rings, battered so lightly they're flaky, not dense.
The restaurant world's au courant "seasonal and local ingredients" buzz-phrase, ubiquitous though it's becoming, seems less self-important puffery here, more a sincere—and successful—attempt to provide an unfolding experience in eating with new adventures on every plate. As important are Harvest's frequent, inventive efforts to make dining more affordable and worthwhile. "Wine War" dinners pit different wine regions against one another with foods to match. The Sunday-night blue-plate specials feature homey fried chicken and meatloaf. And "Three Courses for $30" remains the best fine-dining bargain in town.
An expansive, affordable wine list doesn't hurt, especially on nights when the list is discounted. Nor does a spirits list that includes Laphroaig, the world's best whiskey and Scotland's official peaty, smoky apology for inventing bagpipes. There's a staff who wait like waiting's what it is—an art—and then, too, there's owner/chef Steve Gontram, the home-team starting pitcher in this pleasant Richmond Heights stadium. He's out on the floor more often than the new salesman at a Best Buy. He appears, an iron skillet of sizzling roasted mussels heady with garlic and lemon in hand, delivering it to one table. There he is again, checking to see whether at another, they can find anything to gripe about. Chances are slim.
St. Louis has its share—any city does—of S&M restaurants. You know, "schmooze and model." Places to Be Seen and Socialize. A lot of them superficially look like Harvest. They don't taste that way, though. Harvest stands out. It defines much that is gracious, delicious, and civilized in restaurant dining. It does so with admirable consistency and with the style and energy that make the place both a dependable institution and one that never, ever gets old.
1059 S. Big Bend, 314-645-3522, harveststlouis.com.
Heading Harvest
A few moments with owner/chef Steve Gontram
What is the secret to keeping a restaurant going successfully for 14 years?
Harvest's very concept enables us to continually attract new guests, as well as keep them coming back for more. Our seasonal reinvention makes for a practically new restaurant each time a guest revisits.
How have you dealt with the recession, especially given the road closures?
My newsletters are very proactive. We run monthly specials that have kept our business level in line with previous years. I joke about the bridge demolitions and the beautiful vistas we have of freshly poured concrete and mounds of dirt, but in the end, what else are you gonna do? Crawl into a hole? Not me.
All chefs have wacky customer stories. What stands out?
One night, we had a table who were teasing one in their group about his tendency to eat at McDonald's. Jokingly, a request was made for a Big Mac and fries so he'd feel "more at ease" in Harvest's surroundings. I made the entire table a platter of mini ground-tenderloin sliders on sesame brioche with special sauce, house-made pickles, arugula, aged cheddar, and hand-cut fries. I remember hearing them laughing from back in the kitchen. Ultimately, there's no room for pretentiousness in this business.
What is your strongest suit?
I've assembled a great team, one that's been here for years and years. They have pride. They take ownership. I'm proud of that.
Do you have any aspirations for opening something else?
I would really like to open a killer sandwich joint. One where everything is made in-house ... right down to the fried baloney.
