The element of surprise isn’t typically a concept associated with dining. Flash mobs, John le Carré novels, scary clown movies? Sure. Eating a meal? Not so much.
That’s changed in recent years, though, with some chefs pulling out more tricks than a Justin Willman special.
There are the subtle touches. An edible candle made of bacon fat, whose liquefied remains can be slathered onto crusty grilled bread at Hamilton’s. Three strips of bacon served on a mini-clothesline and hand-fired at your table at Grand Tavern. Bacon being offered as both a side and a dessert (brilliant!) at BEAST Butcher & Block.
OK, I might be obsessed with bacon.
But back to that whole surprise thing. There are also atmospheric elements at play. The dark, alluring interior at Billie-Jean. The ceramic dishes created by the chef/co-owner’s uncle at Elmwood. The portraits of dapperly dressed animals at Benevolent King. The experience of walking into a new restaurant for the first time, taking in all those thoughtful details that make it worth the trip, are part of the adventure.
The city’s most acclaimed chefs understand this element of surprise. It’s why many started with pop-up restaurants and underground dinners. And they also realize that at a brick-and-mortar, perhaps no other format lends itself to a memorable dining experience as well as tasting menus.
At Bulrush, chef Rob Connoley uses foraged ingredients in an intimate dining room where he takes center stage. Throughout the evening, he maintains the element of surprise by explaining the items as they’re served. The menu is provided after the meal, as a takeaway lagniappe.
Savage takes a similar approach, except that you choose the number of courses; chef Logan Ely does the rest. As dining critic Dave Lowry puts it, the chef “flirts with your palate. This is less a meal than a series of sensations. Flavors and textures ricochet and bounce. Ingredients are unlikely—shiitake mushrooms with oat ice cream—assembled with flair and a bold confidence.”
Likewise, Lowry described a 17-course omakase dinner at Nippon Tei as “St. Louis’ premier sushi dining experience.” That was shortly before executive chef Nick Bognar opened his own place, indo, in Botanical Heights. Inside, there’s a chef’s counter that offers—spoiler alert—“small tasting menus in long-form dining style.”
Perhaps no St. Louis restaurateurs are better at surprising diners, though, than dynamic husband-and-wife duo Dave and Kara Bailey (p. 60). Over the years, they’ve rolled out 10 concepts, ranging from burgers to pizza to crepes to barbecue to chocolate. Perhaps no unveiling was more dramatic, though, than when they opened Pop Sparkling Bar & Restaurant. In late January, they surprised guests at the Cajun-themed L’Acadiane by changing the concept—the décor, the menu, the uniforms, even the logo in the window—to a Champagne bar in the middle of dinner service.
“It would be a place to have a first date or a 500th,” dining editor George Mahe noted, “a restaurant predicated around memories of the joy of falling in love.
“It’s pretty hard not to clink a few glasses to that.”