Utah Station opens August 8 in Benton Park

The goal of the 90 percent vegan restaurant is to create an environment “where everyone can sit down and eat," says executive chef Chris Bertke.

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It's hard to believe that Utah Station took three years to plan, build, and eventually open— until you see the "before" pictures. 

The 1,344-square-foot "mostly vegan" restaurant is slated to open this Thursday at 1956 Utah. Housed in a former 1930s-era, two-bay service station, the restaurant's building "didn’t even have a roof when Kevin King [of King Campo LLC] acquired it," says owner Carrie Bauer. “There was more green inside than out.”

The building had been vacant for more than 20 years. The lot was a collection of dilapidated concrete, gravel, and weeds. Existing fuel storage tanks would have to be removed. The historic site was eligible for state and federal historic tax credits, all of which translated to a lengthy renovation project.

Three years later, the transformation is nearly complete. The working name for the restaurant, 1956 Utah, was the same as its address, but it was later changed to Utah Station. (The original name, Burgherr’s Service Station, might have worked as well).

Despite the upgrade, the building's footprint has not changed. The porcelain enameled wall panels remain. The former pea-gravel driveway is now composed of paver bricks reclaimed from McPherson Avenue in the Central West End. On the 40-seat patio are a scatter of chemical-free, all-weather picnic tables (built by Bauer and her father) that come with a utilitarian lagniappe: Cutouts in the tables hold 6-inch-deep Lexan containers that serve as mini coolers (with ice to keep drinks cold) and mini planters (for tabletop herbs).  

On the east side of the building, a native Missouri plant garden transitions into a large, gas-fired limestone fire pit area (reclaimed from building foundations). Guests can sit atop limestone slabs and nosh on executive chef Chris Bertke’s pizzas atop tables cobbled from tree trunks.

In the rear of the building, a gravel swale drains into a small retention pond designed with water-loving plants and special soil that magically absorbs all the water flowing into it. Rainwater is similarly captured on the roof and directed to barrels on the ground. It’s all part of Bertke’s attempt to stay “as clean and green as possible, in all aspects of the word.”

King transformed the two bays (with operable garage doors) into a 40-seat dining room. On one wall is a bank of original prop-open windows, refurbished and repaned. Eighty-year-old brick walls were sandblasted to show their true colors; other walls were painted a pastel blue-green reminiscent of a mid-1950s Chevy Bel Air.

The bartop is made of pallet wood (reclaimed, of course), finished with a bowling alley’s worth of epoxy urethane. The lights above it are the same metal wall sconces from the original incarnation. An old jukebox plays vintage 45s.

Guests entering by the main door are greeted by a gas-fired brick pizza oven and, likely, Bertke tossing pizza dough and friendly hellos. The chef's signature 12-inch pies are made from super-fine, 00 flour (the same grade used in Neapolitan-style pizzas). While the crust might appear too thick to thin crust–loving St. Louisans, it's light enough to potentially collapse under the weight of its toppings—yet doesn't. You'll come across more air pockets than a Cessna 172 flying over the Rockies.

Choose from two sauces (real mozzarella cheese or a vegan blend) and ample toppings (including meat and Bertke's housemade vegan sausage and pepperoni). A gluten-free cauliflower-based crust is also available.

During the long ramp-up to opening, Bertke hosted eight pop-ups to gauge whether the public was ready for his dream eatery, a radical departure from the norm: a restaurant featuring vegan riffs of popular fast food and comfort food dishes.

Apparently, St. Louis was more than ready: The pop-ups all sold out the first day. The “two all (not) beef patties, special sauce…” Big Mak was a hit, and the Crack Tacos (made with “veef”) closely mimic the Jack in the Box stoner staple. But the runaway fave was the Vegan T-Rav. With a circular wrapper that’s far lighter and tastier than its meat-filled counterparts and a chunky marinara sauce that’s second to none, it has signature item written all over it.  

When the chef became a vegan 25 years ago (ironically, the last meat he ever had was a McDonald’s double cheeseburger), he began experimenting with meat substitutes using wheat-based plant proteins, which he’s altered and perfected over the years. The Utah Gyro contains seared, seasoned house-made vegan mock meat, to which Bertke has somehow even added “a vegan fat cap.” There’s a plant-based riff on a popular roast beef sandwich, with vegan cheddar, horseradish sauce, banana peppers, and Guinness-caramelized onions on a Kaiser bun. 

He'll pan-sear a vegan smash burger and pile one or two patties onto a grilled Kaiser with full fixins'. “It's like a science project,” Bertke told SLM in 2017. “And all these things are so much healthier than they would be otherwise.”

Orders are placed at the counter and delivered to tables fast-casual style. Bottled and canned beer gets dispatched from the bar. Infused water is self-serve.

Bertke’s mostly scratch kitchen turns out a menu that’s 90 percent vegan—with the exceptions being a pulled pork sandwich on a pretzel bun and a grass-finished, skillet-cooked cheeseburger on a sesame bun. There’s a vegetable line and a meat line, so cross-contamination isn’t a problem, and a different chef is in charge of each line. Bertke prepares the vegan items while sous chef Jesi Willey is in charge of the non-vegan ones.

Bertke’s mission is to create a different but timely restaurant model. His hope is that his well-researched vegan interpretations of popular, familiar dishes that will appeal to all culinary persuasions.

The heart-on-the-sleeve chef is active on social media, especially Facebook, willing to share highs and lows, hits and misses. Social media is both a marketing tool and personal motivator for Bertke that didn’t exist a decade ago.

“I like that when guests finally meet me, they pretty much know me already,” he says. “And I feel like I know them.”

Utah Station

1956 Utah, St Louis, Missouri 63118

314-588-8099

Visit Website

Thu-Mon: 3:00 p.m. - 10:00 p.m.

Inexpensive

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