Photography by Kevin A. Roberts
It is, well, yes, a food court. At lunch, one ambles through the yawning space of Central Table Food Hall, pausing to consider the offerings at multiple stations: pizza, sandwiches, sushi; a raw bar; even a deli with cheeses, sausages, olives, and other delectables to purchase and take home. Then, in the evening, around the time CWE hipsters start arriving at local watering holes like Tom’s Bar & Grill, across the street, dinner menus appear. Diners are seated and assemble their dinner from any number of the restaurant’s kitchens.
It is, well, yes, a little odd. Meals can be constructed imaginatively: for instance, a calzone, Spanish-style octopus, and tuna sushi. Dinner’s composition is your call. We wondered how these disparate cuisines could come together, and we found out: Well, yes, they come together nicely.
Stools are arranged around a long, extensively stocked bar and at the sushi counter. Otherwise, tables are scattered throughout a place with the dimensions of a locomotive factory. The ceiling soars, with pipes, conduits, and assorted industrial-size architectural tchotchkes overhead. A concrete floor makes for, er, unsubdued acoustics. There are lovely window views of the street. Chairs here seem to have been lifted from a prison visiting area: They’re cold, metallic, and unforgiving. It’s a testament to the food that you’ll scarcely notice how uncomfortable they are.
Where the North American appetizer once flourished, it has now been largely extirpated on the restaurant landscape. Central Table has exterminated the species altogether, replacing it with ubiquitous “small plates.” Like your sister-in-law, they’re hot and cold. A Caesar salad is huge and—besides being too salty—delectable. White anchovies and fresh Parmesan are featured in a first-class dressing. Lemon juice sparkles a generous mound of greens, and an excellent olive oil adds just the right dressing. Chilly oysters make for another worthy starter.
On the hot side, a platter of cuttlefish—adorned with lime, a splash of fish sauce, and a flick of Hottentot fig leaves—is marvelous. Oh, and how about pâté, deep-fried? What a concept. It’s like a luscious sausage, the surface crusty-gold, the pâté unctuous and porky, complemented by pleasantly bitter greens and a fried egg.
“Flintstonian” is the best way to describe a spectacular serving of marrow. A pair of huge beef shank bones are sliced longitudinally, then roasted. They arrive overloading a platter. A hefty chunk of rustic, chewy bread is just right for scooping out the luxuriantly creamy marrow.
Central Table offers almost a dozen pizzas. Go with the classic—the Margherita’s superb. Play-Doh–like blobs of mozzarella, fresh tomato slices, and fragrant basil are laid on fresh dough and placed in a fire-breathing oven. The pie’s crust emerges crackly black on bottom, chewy inside.
When judging a sushi chef’s skill, a good test is to order eel. The accompanying sauce tasted house-made. The quality of the seasoned rice was excellent, the compositions competent.
There were eight “large plates” on a recent visit. If skate’s on the menu, the canny connoisseur will sample it. They are a pain to clean, must be laboriously trimmed—and unlike every other fish, the longer they cook, the more tender they become. Pan-sautéed here, the skate is blissfully enjoyable. Golden fans of the wing are nestled in separated Brussels-sprout leaves, surrounded by sprays of roasted cauliflower and decorated with slivers of prosciutto and plump, sweet sultanas.
The menu’s “pork chop” is a lovely tenderloin, sliced into thick medallions. Dark pink at the center, with a fine, savory crust, the chop gets an indulgent, flavorful presentation—including some surprisingly enjoyable components. Besides a mound of creamy polenta, the plate’s crowded with sweet baked nectarine slices and grilled chard—and oh yeah, a couple of pork ribs to balance things.
The manicotti demands patience. It arrives in a lava-hot casserole, so you must resist the immediate temptation to dig in. (Nibble on your tablemates’ spicy, ginger-tinged shishito peppers while you wait.) Ground veal, along with beef and pork, is stuffed into ridged manicotti tubes. The meat component just adds flavor, without being the heart of the dish. An extravagant layer of mozzarella, melted and gloriously runny, plays that role, and delicate curds of house-made ricotta get secondary billing. The russet sauce on top is bright with crushed San Marzano tomatoes. Accompanied by hunks of rustic, garlic-scented bread, this is a fine winter meal.
A top sirloin Wagyu steak is butter-knife tender. Its light, peppery crust is perfumed with smoked paprika. The sage-laced polenta underneath is a thoughtful match for the meat. And the accompanying tomatoes are marinated, sweet and smoky, on the grill just long enough to soften them to a deep red all the way through.
A jumble of shimmering red salmon roe is a nice touch to a fillet of that fish. Its skin is crispy, the meat moist and flaky. Green beans alongside are cooked perfectly; fingerling potatoes are roasted, with a light touch of lemon.
For dessert, the chocolate bread pudding is intimidatingly rich, slathered with crème Chantilly. A wine list leans toward Californian and Italian varietals. It’s a tall order to assemble wines to match such a far-ranging cuisine. Central Table manages it adequately. You can enjoy an Alta Maria Vineyards pinot noir with that delightful pork and a Spanish Bodega Viña Nora Albariño with the salmon.
So, yes, Central Table’s a food court—just possibly the best one in which you’ll ever dine.
The Bottom Line: This culinary metroplex features amazing variety and delicious offerings.
23 S. Euclid
Central West End
314-932-5595
Breakfast, lunch dinner Mon through Fri, dinner Sat, brunch and dinner Sun
Average Main Course: $25
Reservations: Certainly.
Dress: Your CWE best.
Chef: Nick Martinkovic
