Photograph by Katherine Bish
Somewhere between the delectable, tissue-thin slice of beef tenderloin carpaccio appetizer and a bite of glistening, grilled duck breast, the thought occurs: St. Louis has a lot of good restaurants. Yes, local cranks confirm smugly among themselves their gourmand status by dismissing the region’s eateries. They’re wrong. Which brings us to Herbie’s.
The name is a nod to the name and era of the previous owner, long a cornerstone of the Central West End. It is little changed since its former incarnation as the St. Louis dining tradition Café Balaban, which first opened in 1972. Today, the spot has the same warm wooden floors and exposed brick walls, the same nicely spaced tables covered in starchy creased linen and pleasant candlelit glow that lends a romantic atmosphere. The giant fin-de-siècle French posters still decorate the space. As it was for years, the narrow, tile-floored seating area at the front of the restaurant is crowded and convivial, sidewalk café–authentic, a little chilly this time of year, and a flashing yellow light outside intermittently bathes your companion’s face in a choleric hue. Cold, crowded; people with sickly-looking complexions. Hey, it is just like France.
The menu is small, though interesting, and loaded with finesse. Appetizers are mandatory. They demonstrate the range of the kitchen and put one in the right mood for the main courses to follow. A spray of those papery leaves of carpaccio is arranged around a tiny salad of fennel shavings, sprinkled with capers and parmigiano flakes and drizzled with a mild horseradish cream. Each night, the kitchen presents a selection of the best oysters currently available. They were Blue Points the night we visited. The price for these, $17 for a half dozen, is too dear, though. Go instead with the splendidly classic escargots. Chocolate brown petit gris, the snails are roasted in a parsley-dusted, lusciously rich beurre d’escargot of butter, shallots and crushed garlic. The bread at Herbie’s is airy and crusty; demand an extra serving for dipping in the snail plate’s buttery pools. And yes, the smoked trout salad with corn cakes is still on the appetizer menu.
Herbie’s chopped salad is only average, a combination of iceberg and romaine; the addition of fried wonton chips and bacon does little for it. A Caesar salad, however, is quite fine, the dressing suitably understated, the romaine crisp, the snowy dusting of Parmesan restrained enough to add flavor without overwhelming. The cool cucumber bisque remains from the old Balaban days. Let it wait for next summer. Opt now for the above-average French onion soup, the broth beefy, the onions tender and sweet, the cheese baked on top just right, a soup that is a steaming antidote for winter.
Let’s get this out of the way: They didn’t just keep Balaban’s signature beef Wellington, with its sultana-infused Marsala sauce and sides of green beans and tiny carrots. There is general agreement among the local dining cognoscenti that the flaky pastry–wrapped tenderloin surpasses the original. Among other main courses: a mound of potatoes and sautéed leeks topped by a palm-sized slab of grilled salmon, moist, flaky pink and tasty, complemented by a light sauce of lemon, white wine and chili oil that gives the whole dish a special character. A “duck duo” is also worthwhile. Duck breast, allowed to grill in its own fat, is sliced, the skin a crackly sweet brown, the interior juicy pink. Alongside is a particularly enjoyable concoction: caramelized carrots and leek slivers, mixed with shreds of smoky, delectable duck confit, all packed into a doorknob-sized cake. The two presentations of duck are brought together with a schmear of cauliflower purée. Arranged artfully, it tastes even better than it looks. The menu promised a potato gratin with the filet mignon; we were delighted with the tumble of spaetzle that came instead. A dash of nutmeg and a sprinkle of parsley give these tender nubbins an herby goodness; they are inspired as a side for a chunk of filet that is grilled precisely to order and left unadorned so all the intense flavor of the beef comes with each bite.
Crusted liberally with coriander and peppercorns, a tuna steak has drawn raves from diners, accompanied by a risotto cake studded with soybeans and slices of shiitake mushrooms. The waiter will suggest it medium rare; tell him to focus more on the “rare” than the “medium.” This is a dish that works best with the meaty taste of the tuna at the center of your palate. Blending bleu cheese into mashed potatoes is one of mankind’s more brilliant achievements. It works well with Herbie’s short ribs. Braised until the meat is flaky and saturated with the taste of its own juices, it is an exceptional dish. The same potatoes appeared on a plate next to a roasted chicken quarter. A French café staple, a simple roast chicken is difficult. The only criticism here is that the portion was too small. Otherwise, it is a near-flawless rendition.
Dessert choices aren’t numerous, but they are satisfactory. There is a selection of bread pudding, cheesecake, ice creams and fruit sorbets. Regulars from the old Balaban days will wish only to know that the justly celebrated chocolate fritters are still around. Plump brown bombs, with a light fried crust that gives way to a thick syrupy ganache, silky and runny and decadent, this is a dessert not to be missed.
The wine selection is dizzying in length, with a wide range of prices and varieties represented. There are some good cabernet sauvignons for that duck and some other fine reds to go with the beef. The roast chicken is matched by a nice selection of chardonnays. Given the breadth of the list here, all but the experienced oenophile will do well to consult with a wait staff that’s informed about the wine as well as proficient in the rest of their service.
After the original Café Balaban closed in late 2006, it reopened soon after as simply Balaban’s. The new iteration—with a more contemporary menu—didn’t catch on with diners, and it closed in January 2008. Given the expertise in the kitchen, the felicitous surroundings and pleasant atmosphere, let’s hope this third time’s a charm. Because this is a good restaurant.
Address: 405 N. Euclid
Phone: 314-769-9595
Website: herbies.com
Average main course: $23
Reservations: Certainly
Executive Chef: Aaron Teitelbaum
Dress: Urbanely and warmly this time of year, given the dearth of nearby parking
The Bottom Line: French-inspired café that specializes in an inviting, warmly pleasant atmosphere
