Photography by Kevin A. Roberts
Ben Poremba’s other restaurants (Elaia, Olio, and Old Standard), in Botanical Heights, couldn’t be more different, but they share one common element: attention to detail. The Israeli-born restaurateur follows suit at Parigi, the new Franco-Italian bistro in Clayton on the Park. Consider the bright-orange upholstery, a classic Ferrari color from the ’60s. We’ll let him tell you more.
What was it about the Parigi space that appealed to you?
It’s a beautiful space, one that had been vacant for awhile. The people living upstairs really wanted an amenity and a couple of deals had fallen through, so I think the landlord had become more flexible. There’s no question that Parigi makes the building more attractive.
How did you come up with the name?
Fifteen years ago, while sitting in a class in Italy, I learned that Parigi was the Italian word for Paris. I wrote it down and thought, you know, that would be a great name for a restaurant.
How did the décor come about?
I thought, if Marcello Mastroianni and Catherine Deneuve owned a restaurant in the heart of Paris, it would be chic and modern, with both Italian and French accents… I wanted the space to look manicured and feminine, so some of the walls are pink. The posters on the ceiling are a tapestry of images and moments, an intersection of Italian and French art, food, and fashion. The wineglasses are seamless, with thin rims. Some of it I call white noise—details many people may not notice, but others will for sure.
And the chairs?
I love chairs. Chairs are my thing. There are originals from Michael Thonet, who was an innovator of bentwood design, but the majority are modern bistro chairs made in the Czech republic.
Are Parigi’s rolling carts functional or are they merely decorative?
We were planning to use them for room service—which is part of our agreement—until we found out that the people want their food served simply and without fanfare. We answered by delivering food quickly and in disposable containers—good disposables.
What’s the story with the chandelier in the side room?
It was made by Ingo Maurer, a famous German designer, and is one of the only pieces that he named in Italian. There are three, teardrop-shaped nylon nets with hundreds of Swarovski crystals hanging from them. Maurer calls it Lacrime del Pescatore, the tears of the fisherman. The walls in that that room are turquoise, because at one time Paris’ flag and coat of arms was predominantly pink and turquoise.
Talk about the two bookcases in that room.
They contain rare, old Italian cookbooks with regional recipes written in script, all from the collection of [local foodie] Jeff Lehman. I want there to be a sense of discovery every time guests come to Parigi. That’s why the book cases are a bit hidden. I want people to see there’s a hand that put all this together, in some cases a subtle hand.
Restaurant design often changes on the fly. Did that happen at all here?
That’s my collection of copper and mocha pots on the half-wall separating the bar and restaurant. We needed a barrier, something more powerful than flowers, and they became a focal point of the space.
So what’s on the menu?
The word “approachable” is overused, so I’ll say we serve timeless, iconic dishes. But remember that cooking a bistro steak or omelet is hard to do extremely well, because people are so familiar with them. It’s much more challenging than unfamiliar dishes for which they have no basis.
How much free rein does your chef have?
It’s all Ramon [Cuffie]. He’s one of my dearest friends and a recent CIA [Culinary Institute of America] graduate, which is an interesting story. At the age of 49, he fulfilled a lifelong dream by getting his GED and moving to Hyde Park to attend the Culinary Institute. I said, “When you come back, Parigi can be your legacy restaurant.”
What is Ramon’s specialty?
He’s a master with sauces, so we composed a menu that showcases that—proteins with sauces and sides served family-style, like contorni get served in Italy. We hope to wow people with béarnaise, or a piece of roast chicken with foie gras sauce.
What’s on the lunch menu?
The burger is fantastic, for starters. It’s perfectly seasoned and charred, then topped with fontina and huge slabs of pork belly instead of bacon. I usually put ketchup and mustard on my burger, but this one doesn’t need any of that. The meat blend is mostly brisket and the ciabatta is made by a Bosnian baker. The burger’s on the dinner menu, too. Parigi is an all-occasion, come-anytime place and the menu reflects that.
Discuss how restaurant cocktail programs have changed and how that impacted Parigi.
We were never trendy and won’t be at Parigi, either. At Olio, we reverted to the inception of cocktail culture—really from the turn of the century to the 50s—and took our inspiration from that. That’s why we never refer to our bartenders as mixologists because they do not create, they refine and elevate. We leave mixology to the guys at Taste, Planter’s House, and Blood & Sand.
You do have a case with some esoteric items in it, though.
It’s located right next to the bar and stocked with apertitifs, amaris, absinthes, things that will slowly be introduced to customers—probably by me—since they are things I like to drink. “Here, come have a glass of this grappa with me…”
Parigi is serious about beverages, even the coffee and tea.
The coffee comes from Blueprint, the eight blends of tea are from London Tea Room, and the quality and precision for both programs is unmatched. We use scales and timers, and brew different teas at different temperatures. Since we’re open for breakfast and brunch, that component is important, just as much as alcohol.
Elaia and Olio have incredible wine lists. How about Parigi?
Those lists have esoteric wines from all over the world, but at Parigi, we’re not trying to educate anyone. We just feature classic wines, wines people are familiar with. A third of the list comes from France, a third from Italy, and a third from the U.S., all presented at prices people expect to pay.
Parigi is open for all three meal periods, plus Sunday brunch. Is that a burden?
All that, plus room service and events on the roof terrace! It’s more like running a little hotel than a restaurant, which is why I brought in Andrea [Leavitt] from the Park Hyatt in Chicago to manage it.
So what happens on the roof?
We are here to service the people in building, first and foremost, so anything we do there has to be done with their input and blessing. We will have private events and parties up there, but it won’t be open to the public.
Does it take a restaurant of Elaia’s refinement for you to get nominated for the James Beard Best Chef: Midwest award?
I used to think so, but my compatriot at Shaya in New Orleans has won every restaurant award in America, and he’s doing a modern take on basic Israeli food.
Is basic food the way to go, then?
The hottest restaurant in the country right now is Estela in New York. The food there is simple and rustic, dishes that people can enjoy and want to eat everyday. The chef’s big thing there is “I don’t cook with tweezers; I cook with tongs.”
When did you come to St. Louis, and what was the first place you worked?
I came to St. Louis 20 years ago, in time to graduate from Parkway North and attend UMSL. My first job was nannying for three little girls, eventually becoming the family’s personal chef, which led to catering jobs for their friends. I was doing three to four gigs a week…and I was still in school.
Talk about Salume Beddu, the salumeria that you and Mark Sanfilippo opened eight years ago.
We peddled our products at five farmers markets every weekend—for several years—until we felt confident enough to open the store on Hampton. When I opened Elaia and Olio, though, I was too busy to do both. Mark’s the sole owner now.
Sum up Elaia and Olio.
How much fun is it that a fine dining restaurant exists right next to a fun wine bar? This was something I’d wanted to do for a long time. It almost happened in the Grove—in a building at the corner of Taylor and Manchester—with fine dining on the first floor and a wine bar on the second, but I couldn’t make it happen. Then this service station building in Botanical Heights became available and then we discussed also using the house behind it. To the best of my knowledge, there’s nothing like it in St. Louis or anywhere in the country.
Do you have more plans for Botanical Heights?
Everything that happened in that area—residential, the school, the restaurants—was connected, part of the same package. The developers had enough faith in me to do the build-out, and that became my business model. I’ll spend a ton on the design, and I’ll bring in a great team to operate the place, but I need someone to do the build-out. The bottom line was that Elaia and Olio cost me half of what it could have otherwise. It’s a lot easier asking a bank for a half million dollars when it’s a million dollar project. Next I’d like to take the mechanic’s shop that shares a wall with Olio and do something there—I’m not sure what just yet, but something.
What else is on Ben Poremba’s parade of hits?
I’d like to do a second Old Standard, maybe out in West County. The concept for the deli—a more hip and contemporary one—is complete, we just need to find the right location. And I hired Scott Davis [former exec at Three Flags Tavern] to run Elaia which will allow me to unplug a little. I need to. We’re having another baby.
