Photography by Kevin A. Roberts
One of St. Louis’ behind-the-curtain restaurateurs has revived one of the city’s center-stage restaurants. Frank Romano patronized The Parkmoor from his youth into young adulthood, and ever since the legendary restaurant closed, in 1999, he’s wanted to resurrect it. The 43-year-old Romano opened the new Parkmoor in Webster Groves on July 4.
Maybe it’s ironic that one of the city’s behind-the-curtain restaurateurs has revived one of its more center stage restaurants, or maybe it was meant to be. Frank Romano patronized The Parkmoor from his youth into young adulthood, and ever since the legendary restaurant closed in 1999, he’s wanted to resurrect it. And while 2020 has been a nightmarish time for restaurants, the 43-year old Romano has been able to live out his dream. The new Parkmoor opened in Webster Groves on July 4.
What was your first job in the industry? My first restaurant jobs were in the Met Square building downtown in 1992. During the day, I worked with Steve Komorek in the kitchen at Piccolo’s. Then I’d shower, put on a tuxedo, and work the floor at Kemoll’s, where I did every job possible: server’s assistant, banquet server, line cook, bartender, cashier, assistant manager, glass polisher, dishwasher, and then finally a server. [Owner] Mark [Cusumano] wanted me to appreciate the kind of money servers were making before he ever let me become one.
Did you gravitate to the front or back of the house? Kemoll’s is where I got my restaurant MBA. Mark didn’t just teach me the restaurant business—costing, budgeting, managing payroll, having people prep overnight when need be, and to always be prepared for the unexpected—but he also taught me how best to handle employees. To this day, there are a handful of people who have been with him for more than three decades. The current staff has logged something like 350 combined years at the restaurant.
What’s his secret? He knows when and how to pick his battles. You can’t, for example, berate an employee at the beginning of the shift and then expect them to perform at their best, so he didn’t. His brother, Doug [Cusumano], ran the dining room and taught me the finer points about service and wine. He’d be tasting multiple bottles and would say, "Do you want to help taste some of these?" I said, "You bet."
Were Kemoll’s famous fried artichokes the item that was prepped at night? It was the toasted ravioli, actually, but those artichokes caused the most problems. Peeling them down to the heart required strong hands, a paring knife, and two pairs of gloves. A mini-chainsaw would have been more appropriate. And the demand never let up—every table wanted an order, every night, year round.
If you weren’t in the restaurant biz, where might you be? I’d be an attorney. People know I’m versed on a lot of things, especially restaurants, so I get asked a lot for advice. I have a line, "As not your attorney, this is what I would do," which is usually the same advice an attorney would give. But I fell in love with the hospitality side of the restaurant business, and that was that.
Can you share about a few of your stop?
- Kemoll’s: For years, Kemoll’s represented refined service and finer dining. Mrs. Kemoll always said that nothing and no place is ever perfect, so when the three- and four-star awards came along, she was pleased.
- Piccolo’s: It was the city’s first tapas bar and wine bar, too, I believe. We’d offer a 3- or a 6-ounce pour, which was novel. There was butcher paper and a stack of plates on every table; we provided bread and olive oil. Tim Mallett opened Blue Water Grill just after that, I believe.
- Truffles: It's where I learned about wine futures. I remember the owners, the Cella family, describing planning for 10 years down the road as “going long.” They built this cellar downtown to properly store all the wine. Truffles’ wine program eventually won—and is still winning—a lot of big awards.
- Jazz at the Bistro: I was the executive chef and GM there, so I got to meet, cook for, and share stories with all of the jazz greats. I remember making all of this New Orleans–style food for Harry Connick, Jr., and he ended up ordering two grilled chicken breasts with no seasoning, saying that spicy food affected his singing voice. Fortunately, everybody else in the place lapped it up. I eventually became a partner and was there 13 years.
- An American Place: Working with [owner] Larry Forgione, I learned about food history, farmers, and eating local, all of which he advocated. Larry convinced a lot of St. Louisans that local food tastes better. Some big guns worked there: John Griffiths was executive chef, Josh Galliano worked under him, and Larry’s son, Bryan, moved to St. Louis with his family to work there as well.
- Miso on Meramec: Miso was located at the intersection of sushi and nightclub. [Owner] Brad Beracha could create a scene better than anyone—there with Eliott Harris’ sushi, cool lighting, and a vibe built on curated music that gradually shifted genres as the night evolved.
- Araka: A full check list: food, service, atmosphere, and the wine list were all amazing. I’d never seen people spend money like they did there.
- Robust: No matter what the setback or issue, the Robust team always rose to the occasion.
- BaiKu: Really good sushi and Japanese food in Midtown, with Eliott Harris again at the helm.
- Triumph Grill: Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, seven days a week—plus pre-theater—is never easy. During Hamilton and many other times, that place would hum.
What’s the most common mistake restaurant owners make? Underfunding on the front end. Even guys with seemingly adequate cash reserves find they often need more. You see guys maxing out credit cards and doing risky stuff that a sane person would never do just to keep the doors open. Second, stick to your budget. Don’t add stuff at the last minute just because someone thought it would be cool, especially if it delays the opening. If it’s not going to make you more money, just stop. Don’t do it. And don’t spend all that was budgeted if you don’t have to because in the end, it’s not how much you make, it’s how much you spend.
As a manager, what were you asked to examine most often? Food and liquor shrinkage. When either ends up missing, the issue is not lost cost; it’s the lost revenue. And although cash is no longer king, employees still dip into the till. I remember the guy who had his bartender uniforms made with the pockets sewn shut just to eliminate the temptation.
What advice would you have for someone getting into the business in 2020? People must realize it’s not a job; it’s a lifestyle, a living, breathing thing. It will surprise you, it throws tantrums, and it messes itself. You must shepherd it to raise it and put everything else on hold—including your family—to make sure that child gets the attention that it needs. It’s almost like Men in Black. You have to be prepared to walk away from everything else in your life to deal with it. You can’t own a restaurant and sleep well at night knowing you weren’t there.
Look into your crystal ball, and tell us what the restaurant of tomorrow will look like, post-pandemic. For finer dining, I see QR codes for reserving tables and even ordering food and drink prior to arriving at a restaurant, so the minute you’re seated, your drink and/or food ticket is already in motion. The restaurant will know what they need to prep so as to limit the number of people needed in the kitchen. For casual restaurants, automation will play a greater part, too. Currently, there are QR markers at your table for ordering and paying that limit table visits by staffers.
Why did it take you so long to get your own place? Our kids are now [older], so we’re in a place where we can commit to what we know is involved. We have the time, we have the means, and we have a team that we know we can count on. We wanted to bring back The Parkmoor since the place closed, but we didn’t force it. Having teenage kids and hearing them say they had nowhere to hang out—like we did—had a lot to do with the decision.
What were your memories of The Parkmoor? My family would visit the Parkmoor at Clayton and Big Bend when we were kids. When we were in high school at DeSmet, we’d meet our CBC friends there for lunch. I remember the food, of course, and that huge menu. I remember going there before prom and after a movie at the Esquire. And since we worked weekends at restaurants, on Thursdays, my friends and I would gather there before heading out to listen to music somewhere.
Have you given any thought to reviving the carhop concept? Everything comes back around. One could argue that carhops evolved into today’s mobile ordering, so it’s probably time for it to come full circle again. Let’s just say that we’re exploring it.
How many people have approached you with stories about The Parkmoor? When Cyrano’s was revived decades ago in Webster, I know people came out of the woodwork with stories. Now that there’s social media, it’s tenfold. People from all across the country are chiming in.
Have you heard any memorable stories? Fifty years ago, a couple had their wedding dinner at The Parkmoor. They want to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary here. Boom. Done.
Did you pick up any interesting memorabilia along the way? A friend of a friend has the “The” from the side of the building. I have a high-quality picture of the original Tudor building at Clayton and Big Bend. I have a full-color Vic-Vac of the building, which was used as a placemat that kids could color. I’ve got bricks from the original building that I understand were being sold at the Walgreens that took its place.
Which other parts remain, and which parts did you change? The logo is a modern version of the original. We downplayed the orange color, which was everywhere, and updated the décor from ‘1960s California coffee shop’ that was almost spaceship Googie in style. Locals like to keep up with high school sports, so we mounted a working scoreboard that will keep track of Cardinals, Blues, and even Webster Groves High School scores. And make sure to check out the graphic that my wife designed for the vestibule; to get it, you have to look closely at it.
Did you attempt to duplicate The Parkmoor’s food? Our initial intent was to serve food that was inspired by the original menu. We ultimately decided to get closer and recreate our version of some of those items: the onion rings, the Kingburger, the chicken noodle soup, the hot fudge–topped cake… The original Kingburger for example, was charbroiled and obscenely big, 10-ounces or more, then it shrunk down to a more normal weight. Ours is a half-pound double burger, griddled, so it comes out faster and crispier, with more flavor coming from the sear and from the proprietary blend of three beef cuts that we grind every day in house. We did a lot of research on this. It’s a really good burger.
The Parkmoor’s onion rings were legendary. How do you recreate them and keep everyone happy? It’s tough when you’re dealing with a memory. The Parkmoor’s rings were dipped and fried in a batter. I’ve seen several versions of the ‘original’ recipe, none that seemed or tasted quite right. I know we got close. Ours is a bad ass iteration, using Vidalia onions and a seasoned, light, batter. We’re cooking up 25 pounds of onions per day, and the dining room’s not even open. So far, so good.
Any new items of note? We serve thin sliced, griddled bologna between two grilled cheese sandwiches with our special brown mustard. There’s a shaved roast beef hero with giardiniera and au jus. We’ll serve a Frisco-style patty melt. And a reuben. Fried chicken is not new to Parkmoor, but ours will be a new rendition. We make our own cheese sauce, with added garlic, onions, and herbs, which goes on fries and chili topped nachos. There are a lot of playful items that we want to introduce. Eric Tirone, who’s an accomplished chef and butcher, has a ton of ideas.
How do you balance the old and the new? When someone takes over a restaurant with a history, like Sidney Street or Cyrano’s or Herbie’s—or Parkmoor—there are certain things you must keep on the menu, whether you really want to or not, and I’m fine with that. If customers are clamoring for a particular item from the past, and we can do it right, then we’ll do it. You can introduce new items and interject your personality, sure, but don’t be taking something fundamental off a menu—like a cheeseburger—just because you don’t think it should be there.
Ice cream was a big seller at The Parkmoor. You went in another direction and are serving SnoBalls. The space we took over [the former Half & Half in Webster Groves] had a walk-up window that was originally used for coffee. There’s a frozen yogurt shop across the street, there’s ice cream nearby, plus everyone serves ice cream. Hogoboom’s, which sold snow cones, used to be in our exact same space, so I thought, if we’re bringing something back, let’s bring them back, too. New Orleans–style SnoBalls are like fresh fallen snow, the syrup melts into the ice and stays there. A properly made SnoBall on a hot day can be life-changing. The long lines in NOLA are testament to that.
But you have several homemade pies on the menu. Surely you have an a la mode option. Absolutely. The ice cream we serve comes from our neighbors up the way at Serendipity.
What’s on the beverage cart? A house liquor and one premium for each category. A-B products, including Busch, and craft beers, but no craft sodas, plus several wine varietals and a few select wines on a reserve list, because who doesn’t occasionally want some Krug with their salty French fries? And we’re contemplating a spiked SnoBall that will likely incorporate airplane bottles.
Will you build more Parkmoors? I don’t think anyone is making predictions now, but I hope as we get into the holiday season the next step will be to grow the pie business, which makes sense no matter what direction the industry is heading.
The Parkmoor’s hours are, well, aggressive. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner seven days a week. The restaurant was always open at those hours, plus the past tenants here—First Watch, then Half & Half—did well at breakfast and lunch. We should be solid all day long, but don’t ask me to predict which shift will be the busiest. That’s the fun of this game.
