I Fratellini Offers Sophisticated Italian Dining in Bistro-Style Setting

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Photography by Kevin A. Roberts

The European is strong with this one. Elegance drifts from the old brick walls. Louvered windows  look out onto genteel Wydown. Marble-topped tables, gleaming crystal, and fresh flowers are charmingly illuminated by a chandelier of bulbs and wires that would give an electrician nightmares. The exposed-brick walls hold massive handsome mirrors and a portrait of a Gilded Age grandee. The kitchen’s almost concealed by a low wall; glimpses of the work going on there are just enough to stimulate your appetite.

I Fratellini (Italian for “The Little Brothers”) focuses on Italian fare. Ravioli are plumped with chopped porcini and served with brown butter and sage. Ribbons of tagliatelle dress a hearty, beefy ragu. The spare menu description tragically understates a platter of housemade spaghetti with lobster. The spaghetti defines al dente, and there’s an entire lobster tail on top, with chunks of the sweet meat below, all simply dressed with shallots, garlic, and a gallon of butter. It’s the best dish in the place—and among the best in St. Louis, period.

The “Dishes of the Day”—for instance, a rack of lamb, duck, whole fish—are serious gastronomic enterprises. The lamb is grilled and buttered with an herb glaze. Slices of duck breast, decorating a polenta cushion, are served with sharp wilted dandelion greens. Leaves of sliced potatoes gratin go nicely with a grilled fillet of beef. The fish dishes are particularly appealing. A pompano is roasted until the skin crisps, the flesh perfectly complemented with a bold dressing of Kalamata olives, roasted tomatoes, and capers. The pistachio-encrusted broiled trout is elevated by a swirl of lemon butter. A lean slab of Arctic char with mussels is paired with a tomato broth—a lovely idea.

Antipasti are equally civilized. A slab of crunchy crostini is served with warm goat cheese, roasted garlic, basil, capers, and sundried tomatoes. Never pass on the delicate burrata, which tops bruschetta, along with slivers of peperonata and an arugula pesto. The only critique: Too many beets overwhelmed a salad; there wasn’t enough of the fennel and salty ricotta salata to add balance.

Though I Fratellini’s tiramisu is the dessert opera’s Luciano Pavarotti, a chocolate mousse torte serves as its underrated Fritz Wunderlich. The wine list glows. Gracious, low-key, and smartly professional, the service is almost universally lauded, and rightly so.  It adds a final polish to one of the region’s finer dining experiences.