Photograph by Kevin A. Roberts
Salt
4356 Lindell
Central West End
314-932-5787
Dinner Wed–Sun, brunch Sat–Sun
Dress: Yes, it’s a former funeral parlor, but there’s no need to dress accordingly.
Average Main Course: $17
Reservations: For a large building, the dining area is small, so yes.
Chef: Wes Johnson
The big white house on Lindell Boulevard has a new tenant: Salt. Appropriately, chef Wes Johnson believes in returning to the basics in new ways. And while the concept of rethinking American standards is nothing new locally, Johnson provides a twist by dialing things back just a bit, going less froufrou and with expected tastes in unexpected places. It reminds us of his splendid work in the early days of The Shaved Duck.
The focus is small plates, with only about five entrées. The most generously sized one is Johnson’s duck-fat fries, a basket of shoestring potatoes, hot and alluring, best snatched up quickly before they cool. The house-made ketchup is thin, slightly acidic, and adds nothing to these cuties; the mayonnaise is better. From the charcuterie plate, a smooth chicken-liver pâté, some spicy Calabrese sausage, and gravlax—cured salmon with notes of lemon and orange—all translate to happiness.
Leading the small plates was a single, large scallop in a small Mason jar. Bathed in a smoky mustard-seed sauce, it remained tender under the astonishing sauce, the combination brilliant. A server thoughtfully suggested tipping the contents onto the plate for easier eating.
Warm brie rested under a blanket of poblano-peach compote, the smokiness and brie quite amazing. The spicy heat of mussels broiled with chorizo, a classic combination, makes for some great reduced pan juices. Only the pork belly isn’t quite up to the rest of the class; while tasty, it’s too chewy. The house-made pickles include green onions, garlic scapes, and some yellow beet chunks far too resistant to knife and fork. And speaking of pickles, the pickled watermelon rind is as tough as, well, watermelon rind.
The pear salad could lead a debate about whether fruit salad belongs at the end of a meal. Batons of crisp pear and some fresh blueberries, plus bits of smoked pork jowl, wear a vinaigrette made with the softened fat from the jowl, the rich flavor of bacon permeating the fruit. This is a don’t-miss dish.
On the entrée side, fried chicken, crisp to the point of crunchiness, includes two juicy thighs and some wonderful, buttery mashed potatoes. The thighs, an underappreciated part of the bird, remain moist and succulent on frying. More
poultry? Duck breast is lacquered with sorghum—surely sorghum molasses, given the sweet juices surrounding the two large chunks of rare duck. Fat is minimal, but don’t expect crisp skin; the juices make that impossible. Its side dish is briefly braised Swiss chard cut into ribbons. The duck’s seasoning is peppery, a nice pairing with the earthiness of the chard. That vegetable, though, is somewhat fibrous, and those expecting a tender chew like spinach will be surprised.
Salt probably is the only fine-dining restaurant in town with pork steak on the menu. Johnson brings new dignity to the St. Louis tradition, boning and brining it. Deep pork flavor shines as it rests on a risotto flavored with apple. The garnish is generous strips of guanciale, bacon made of pork jowl.
Gluten-free desserts are often available; we enjoyed a white-chocolate mousse topped with raspberries, a pleasant cloud of sweetness. Lingonberries, a tart fruit often used in Scandinavia, flavor a bread pudding fluffier and slightly dryer than usual, along with a rum sauce. The fruit tart—small, casual and open-faced—held peaches, still slightly tart and crisp at this time of our visit. They worked well with the crisp pastry. Salted caramel ice cream was actually butterscotch, but no one seems to quibble about that these days.
There’s a cocktail menu and plenty of beer, and a wine list that’s not quite up to Johnson’s food. A modest corkage fee ($10), however, makes it possible to bring a contribution from home. Service can be a little distracted. We do wish that servers would avoid gushing over their personal favorites unless that information is requested. It sounds too much like a slick sales pitch, not in sync with the philosophy of this fine new restaurant.
The Bottom Line: Salt strikes a pleasant—and hard to achieve—balance between creative and over-the-top.
By Joe and Ann Pollack
