Photography by Kevin A. Roberts
Address a problem “with overlapping solutions,” suggests neuroscientist David Eagleman in Incognito: The Secret Lives of the Brain, referring to healing emotional trauma. We say never overlook the anguish occasioned by the need for dinner—which is why we thought of Eagleman while studying Atlas’ menu.
“Overlapping solutions” is precisely what that menu offers. A dollop of aioli, a bit of pesto cream sauce, some red-wine reductions, and assorted unexpected surprises like carrot flan…and suddenly, you’re fork-deep in layered tastes and textures that are answering questions your appetites never knew you had.
And at Atlas, it all looks great. On the whole, the food here is as tantalizing to look at as it is to eat. The kitchen’s concern for presentation is clear when a platter of duck arrives. Slices of roasted breast, the skin crispy-sweet, are arranged beside a golden cushion of smooth, cheese-flecked polenta. A scatter of sautéed spinach adds to the composition, along with slices of fresh tomato marinated in a sherry vinaigrette. Splatters of purple lingonberry-and-sage sauce are beautiful and offer just the right sweet,
herbed touch to offset the richness of the duck.
A heavy, opulent stew of meat and beans may not sound that appealing in midsummer, but it’s gonna get cold around here—trust us—and when it does, that fragrant, golden-brown cassoulet, with beans, sausage, and luscious duck confit, is going to be wonderful.
Mediocre meatballs compromise an otherwise delicious take on rigatoni. Like greenhorn reporters on a local TV station that we won’t mention, they are overworked and underseasoned. A fillet of trout could not have been better, though. Firm and flaky, the delicate fillets are drizzled with a butter sauce that’s brightened with preserved lemons. Carrot flan? It sounds weird, like “soy latte.” It’s an innovative take on the orange root, though, that transforms carrots into a modestly sweet side dish.
One favorite here is the eggplant, sliced and baked with a crusty Parmesan topping, then served with angel-hair pasta and fresh tomato sauce. Another is the ragout of lamb special, the slow cooking reducing the meat to a tender, almost sweet flakiness, moist with the addition of red wine, and served with wild mushrooms and tubes of garganelli pasta. A New York strip is the only steak on the menu; it’s worth a try, if only because of the accompanying béarnaise sauce.
One expects seafood in a piccolo fritto, but you won’t miss it in Atlas’ take on this starter, which includes artichoke hearts, green beans, and squash—all fried in a light, crispy batter with a lemon-garlic aioli for dipping. A timbale of mushrooms (think of it as a coarse flan in shape and texture) is expertly made. The disk gets a splash of red-wine reduction that affords the appetizer substance and complexity. Wild mushrooms show up again in a luscious bisque, savory with smoky undercurrents and a hint of the forest floor in each spoonful. The essence of the mushrooms is reduced, fortified with cream, and served in a lugged bowl that concentrates the bouquet beautifully. These mushroom dishes were specials on our visit, but they should be offered regularly.
Blending ricotta into fluffy knobs of gnocchi gives them a more interesting taste than plain old dumplings. With pine nuts, wrinkled sun-dried tomatoes, and a fine pesto cream sauce, the ricotta gnocchi’s another worthy appetizer, one you might consider sharing.
Tarragon figures prominently in a vinaigrette that tops the mixed lettuces salad. Even better, though, is a splendid salad of crispy butter lettuce with a Roquefort dressing, studded with the fragrant cheese. Both salads are enhanced by fresh baguette slices.
Dessert beckons, more because Atlas is a lovely place to hang out than for any caloric needs. A dense chocolate cake is layered with melted caramel and dusted with finely chopped hazelnut pralines. It’s intensely flavored—a table of four was satisfied with just a bite apiece. If you’re still in the mood for a big, sweet finish, try the lemon pudding cake, with a blueberry coulis.
The wine list is a tad light on varieties offered by the glass. But aside from that, it doesn’t disappoint. A 2009 Edmeades Shamrock zinfandel is made to go with the lamb ragout. The trout benefits nicely from an affordable glass of 2011 Selbach Riesling. And match the duck with the 2010 Cachette Côtes du Rhône. A dozen bottles of beer will please hops aficionados. And do not neglect the house cocktails: Begin dinner with Atlas’ version of the Manhattan, made with rye and Dubonnet, and finish with a snifter of golden, apple-smacked Calvados Morice. That is what you call an overlapping solution.
One of three restaurants owned by chef Bryan Carr, Atlas is not a big place. We were there at opening hour and watched the room fill within minutes. Tables are close—it’s loud when full. Service is friendly and competent, with an atmosphere that’s more bistro than formal dining.
The location on Pershing Avenue is felicitous. Giant sycamores and apartment buildings line a quiet street. Atlas looks like one of those eateries in a New Yorker cartoon, where excellent food, imaginative presentations, and seasonal menus are enjoyed by witty, attractive people who chat about stuff like, well, David Eagleman’s Incognito: The Secret Lives of the Brain.
The Bottom Line: Think of it as an Italian-Mediterranean bistro.
5513 Pershing
Skinker-DeBaliviere
314-367-6800
Dinner Tue through Sat, brunch Sun
Average Main Course: $22
Dress: This is a place for understated élan.
Reservations: Yes, if you want to sit down to eat at a reasonable hour.
Chef: Alberto Ahuatzi
