Photograph by Kevin A. Roberts
Harrah’s St. Louis
777 Casino Center
Maryland Heights
314-770-8248
Dinner only, nightly
Average Main Course: $33
Reservations: Bet on it.
Dress: Jacks or better.
Chef: Kelly English
It’s unfair. You’re off to a steakhouse—not just any steakhouse, but one with Kelly English’s name affixed to it (as in the Kelly English who was named one of Food & Wine’s Best New Chefs in 2009). So your palate’s tuned up, especially for beef. The menu, though, has some distractions—serious ones: shrimp and grits, soft-shell crab… This could be a long night.
Before making rash decisions, take a look around. It’s a classy place. The space is long, narrow, outfitted with plush upholstered booths and tables, all draped with crisp linen. Beige walls and understated decor add to the formal ambience; the lighting overhead is uniquely decorated with what resembles swirls of early-’90s computer paper. There is, incidentally, a gaming salon attached; tables along the far wall look out onto the casino’s promenade. It makes for enjoyable people-watching while dining.
Appetizers afford you more time to make informed dinner choices. Tarragon flavors a lobster’s sweet knuckle meat, layered on French bread, thatched with a scatter of alfalfa sprouts. The dusty tang of powdered ancho chili massaged into bite-size slices of beef tenderloin gives the meat a delicious Southwestern flavor. The tangy lime fondue and fresh, chunky salsa alongside the tenderloin add considerably to the fun; just note that this is one big starter. Sharing’s suggested. A “Creole midnight snack” would make a splendid breakfast, with fat shrimp and a poached egg perched on a slab of yeasty brioche, slathered with rémoulade. Littleneck clams are pan-steamed in a garlicky white wine–and–lemon broth.
When choosing a salad, go with the Caesar. A half head of romaine arrives grilled, with hashes of whole anchovy fillets, along with better dressing than a lot of the customers ambling into the casino. Armagnac and cloves play bit parts in the French onion soup. Fans of pimento cheese spread will wax ecstatic about the one that accompanies the bread here. (If you’re not from Dixie, though, you might not get it.)
Among main courses, our waiter said the redfish dish was the place’s most popular. That’s believable. The fish is quickly seared, firm and moist, with all of its taste intact. Smashed potatoes accompany the fish; keeping it all from becoming too bland is a thick, buttery sauce studded with tiny commas of crawfish tails. A béarnaise sauce and a “dressing” of sweet potatoes accompany soft-shell crabs; a more traditional cornbread dressing goes with a Parmesan-encrusted sea bass fillet.
The menu describes a chop as “stuffed.” It isn’t. The dirty rice comes alongside instead. One taste of this phenomenal rice, and you’ll be in a forgiving mood. English’s take on this liverish, green pepper–studded pilaf is—Popeyes’ version aside—the best we’ve had in St. Louis. The grungy grains are equal to a 10-ounce chop that’s beautifully marbled, tender and juicy.
But this is a steakhouse, is it not? Yes, and the above distractions aside, beefatarians won’t go hungry here. Kelly English serves a couple of filets, 8- and 12-ounce versions of filet mignon. An impressive slab of prime rib is speckled with fragrant rosemary needles, thyme, and sage. A Flintstonian 22-ounce porterhouse is probably mandatory if you break the blackjack table again. Otherwise, your best bet is a splendid rib-eye. Its bone protrudes like a handle; avoid the temptation to hoist it. The fork will get you what you want: tender, aromatic meat, charred with perfect grill marks, with flavor that goes long.
English’s special, the surf and turf, has been celebrated on Food Network. It’s lavish—like Cirque du Soleil meets Liberace lavish. A New York strip comes stuffed with fried oysters and blue cheese, over a bacon-and-potato hash, smothered in bordelaise and hollandaise sauces. Hope that a cardiologist is on standby.
Sides include hand-cut fries, potatoes mashed and laced with horseradish, and macaroni and cheese. But your eye should focus on one side: spinach Madeline. The way St. Louisans feel about mostaccioli at weddings is how Louisianans feel about this casserole preparation of cooked spinach, served in a cream sauce brightened with hot peppers and cheese.
A bread pudding (the chef’s grandmother’s recipe) tempts, but you’ve gotta go for the coffee-laced crème brûlée with fresh, sugar-dusted beignets.
There’s no angelic fanfare of trumpets upon opening the wine list—it’s average. The tannic finish of a 2008 Groth cabernet is a decent match for the steaks, and fish pairs well with a 2009 Ferrari-Carano Sonoma County chardonnay.
Service is well-meant and friendly, though not as polished as it should be in a place of this caliber. Mr. English appeared tableside, schmoozing. This is a chef who understands the importance of public relations. His sincerity and friendly demeanor light up diners wherever he stops.
It’s weird. Usually the nonsteak offerings at a steakhouse are also-rans. Here, though, with their Creole credentials, they more than hold their own. Go for the steak, sure, but don’t overlook some real alternatives. And lest you get too distracted, we’ll remind you of your Aunt Tilly’s advice in gaming parlors: Never raise on the come.
The Bottom Line: Good steaks and even better Creole dishes in an upscale environment.
