Photography by Kevin A. Roberts
What would it take to get more St. Louisans who don’t live near St. Charles to visit Ameristar for the dining options, not just the gambling? How about a chef like Don Yamauchi, whom Food & Wine magazine named one of the “Top 10 New Chefs in America” in 1993 and the James Beard Society dubbed one of the “Top Five Rising Chefs in America”? That settled it for us, too.
You’re originally from Chicago?
I stayed there until I was 38, eventually buying Le Français in Wheeling, Illinois. I worked in Detroit for eight years after that, opened my own place in Wisconsin, then hooked up last year with chef Keith [Jones] at Belterra Park, in Cincy. It’s a Pinnacle property, like Ameristar.
How and when did you catch the restaurant bug?
When I was 5, I used to go to my grandfather’s restaurant—a busy, 50-seat diner in Wrigleyville called Hamburger King —and watch him cook. I knew then that’s what I wanted to do—and remember my father saying, “No way!”— but every year from the fifth grade on, I took some kind of a cooking class.
That had to be unusual back then.
It was. For years, I was the only guy in Home Ec class.
Did you also work in restaurants?
I did. I worked at a deli, then at Red Lobster. I was hooked. My friends would say, “You mean you’re not going to the party?” and I would say, “No, man, I gotta work,” and it didn’t bother me. That was the business, and I knew it.
Did you ever consider another career?
Everybody I knew—and I mean everybody— said don’t do it, but I can’t imagine doing anything else.
Any mentors along the way?
Not long after culinary school, I met Roland Luccioni, arguably one of the best chefs in the country, whose restaurant, Carlos, helped put Chicago on the national map. He set up a career path for me. He’d take me to dinner at really great restaurants to teach me things. For a 22-year-old kid, that was a big deal, and it stuck with me.
What was your career path at Carlos?
I went from prep cook to executive chef in four years. My first weekend at that job I remember getting buried and the owner asking me if I was OK. I said I needed a hand for like five minutes. Dressed in his Armani tux, he jumped in and breaded a bunch of veal, flour flying everywhere. He got me out of the weeds, changed his tux, and the night went on without a hitch. Owners have to do what it takes, and Carlos Nieto did. After several years with him, I thought I knew what it took, got cocky, and opened my own restaurant.
How did that go?
Not well. At the time, I didn’t know the business side of restaurants. There’s a disconnect with chefs—of cooking for yourself versus cooking what the customer wants. I didn’t listen, and I closed within a year.
What else stood out?
I also worked at Gordon Restaurant for Gordon Sinclair, who taught me the business of restaurants. I stayed with him until he closed and then bought Le Francais in Wheeling, Illinois, along with my partner, Phil Mott.
Le Français was one of the nation’s most acclaimed restaurants.
Yes, very high-end and exclusive. Chef Jean Banchet built it up over the years, but it was 9/11 that took it down. All of a sudden, the public was holding back; everyone was on a budget. We went from doing 100 covers a night to 20. People wanted simpler, more comforting things.
The feeling was the same here in St. Louis.
I think today’s menus are an offshoot of those days: short ribs, flank steak, skirt steak, less expensive cuts of meat… It’s no coincidence. The only difference today is that those cheaper cuts of meat are being done exceptionally well.
Cooking in general seems to be reverting back to simple things done well.
It’s true. If you can take carrots, onions, and garlic and make something spectacular, you win. It’s easy to use truffles and foie gras.
What other places stand out on your culinary journey?
At Tribute in Farmington, Michigan, owner Toni Wisne spared no expense—ever. Her only request was that everyone leave happy. My first taste of casinos was working for Michael Mina as chef at Saltwater and Bourbon Steak, both at the MGM Grand in Detroit. But the standout so far was working for the Illitches, who owned Motor City Casino, as well as the Detroit Red Wings, Tigers, and Little Caesars Pizza. I’ve been lucky to have worked with so many people.
What attracted you to Pinnacle Entertainment?
I came for the philosophy. At most corporations like this, food takes a second seat to gaming. Pinnacle encourages scratch cooking at all venues, which gets tough at high volume. But we do it and at our restaurants and buffets, the difference is noticeable.
Do casino chefs sign contracts?
Pinnacle is an at-will company, so the agreement is open-ended for both sides—no contracts.
St. Louisans tend not to think of casinos when they think of places to dine. How do you change that mindset?
We’re seeing people from Monsanto and Caterpillar as regulars now, but it’s always a struggle getting beyond the core casino guest. Diners can get the same or better steak, for example, at Ameristar for a lot less money because of the casino. In terms of a deal and value, we have it. Then, to grab a different demographic, we need to elevate the experience by offering both standards and new, distinctive choices.
Such as?
Later this year, we’ll have an authentic Asian restaurant on the casino floor, with flavorful plays on Asian standards, plus a noodle shop component, which is the year’s hot concept.
What’s planned for Bugatti’s Steak & Pasta?
I hope we can do a butter-poached strip steak, a technique I learned from Michael Mina. You slow-cook the steak in butter for three hours at 105 degrees, hold it till ordered, then grill it, ideally rare or medium-rare to order. Hands down, it’s the best way to cook a steak. The hard part is gauging demand; you either run out or have steaks left over at the end of the night.
In 2010, I wrote about the bread service at Bugatti’s and still remember it.
We serve several different kinds ob bread—all made in house—and now we even churn our own butter, a mixture of cream, sour cream, and crème fraiche. It’s a process I’ve done other places, and I predict it will be a hit here, too.
How does winning a major culinary award affect a chef’s life?
Being part of Food & Wine’s "Top Ten New Chefs in America" in 1993 gave me notoriety, a lot of job offers, and took me to Aspen for the Food & Wine Classic. But with that comes lot of traveling and commitment, which took its toll on my first marriage. I was so focused on my career, I missed a lot of birthdays and Christmases. I’m still focused today, but I’ve yet to miss any of my 6-year-old’s birthdays.
Talk about your James Beard nomination.
I was nominated as one of “Top Five Rising Chefs in America” in 1993. I was beaten out by Bobby Flay, not a bad guy to lose out to. My focus is now confined to the four walls where I’m working, but I hope that with Pinnacle I can someday get invited to cook at the Beard House.
Aren’t there a lot of chefs out there just chasing those awards?
I was one of them. In my first restaurant, I only cooked dishes that would get me that kind of notoriety. My volume showed it, and the restaurant failed. I should have listened when customers flat out told me it wasn’t what they wanted to eat. Next time, I did meatloaf, spaghetti Bolognese, and fish fries, and it worked. Give people what they want, and they will come. It’s a hard lesson for most chefs to learn.
Will you ever do another restaurant of your own?
If I can do it with no partners, except for my wife. The ideal is 50 seats and a bar, with just me cooking. So yes, I have another one in me, but my wife says never again.
What’s your favorite kind of food?
For eating, since I grew up in a Japanese-Filipino household, I gravitate toward Asian; for cooking, it’s French. The first two chefs I worked under were both very talented and 100 percent French, so I took away a lot from them. French-influenced Asian fusion with no cream or butter is wonderful. But then again, nothing beats a perfectly whipped potato with a ton of butter in it.
What’s your culinary philosophy?
Make it the best, and cook for the guest.
