Review: Tejas in Clayton

There are those who think that Clayton is the new downtown for Greater St. Louis, and many who have visited both sites over the last few months subscribe to that theory. That leads some who play the Geography Game to suggest that maybe Maplewood will be the new Central West End, and Kirkwood the new Clayton. 

Many ramifications and theories can be added to this basic framework, and questions like where the Central West End belongs, and what options are open for the Hill or South Grand, just add to the joy. But playing the Geography Game is fun, and those of us who play it accomplish more -- with fewer headaches and less cost -- than those who play the Civic Progress Game or the 2004 Game or the School Board Game, and we're way ahead of those who are just beginning to start a new round of the Airport Game.

Clayton's restaurant scene exploded with the ‘90s, with a massive influx into the rectangle bounded roughly by Central, Maryland, Brentwood and Forsyth. I think more places have opened and stayed than have opened and left, and most of the vacated spaces have soon been filled by other eager chefs and owners.

And it just happened again, as Steve Gontram moved into the area vacated by Ramon Gallardo and, more or less, lifted the style of cuisine across the Rio Grande from Mexico to Texas, or to Tejas, if you want to spell in Spanish.

Gontram made a success with informal American fare at Harvest, but the itch was upon him to cook a little more casually, a little closer to his Texas roots. He and his staff, led by chef Eric Erhard, have succeeded in high style, from the superb, freshly made margaritas that begin the evening to the satisfactory sweets that end it. The service matches the fare, with a smooth, experienced crew quickly moving into position in a comfortable room with the bar separated from the main dining room and a sidewalk-porch area that will be in shape when its weather arrives.

I found the margaritas potent and splendid, with freshly squeezed lime juice and a generous pour of tequila. There are many other margaritas, in various colors and sweetnesses, but I think those things – as in the world of martinis – are for people who just don't like the taste of tequila or gin, and want a cutesy name and a flavor no stronger than Kool-Aid.

There are Tex-Mex touches in the appetizers, like tamales and empanadas, and fresh, crisp chips, served in a red enamel pot or pail, arrive with a dark, smoky, warm, charred tomato-mild chile sauce or a fiery habanero-mango sauce. The latter was barely above mild on one visit, but splendidly fiery on another, and let the buyer beware (caveat emptor to the Latin scholars) because the habanero pepper is about the hottest on the market, and the mango brings a lovely and contrasty sweetness.

There's guacamole, too, but it's not to my taste. I like it chunky, mixed with a fork, and not the way Tejas serves it, blended with sour cream or yogurt which makes it smooth and creamy and of a color closer to chartreuse.

And as long as we're dealing with problems, my other one arrived with the ceviche, where shrimp, scallops and calamari are marinated in lime and lemon juice, with the acid in the juice actually cooking the fish. The Tejas version did not marinate enough because the shrimp were still almost raw, when their texture is rather unpleasant. The dish looks great, with strips of fried parsnip on top and chunks of orange adding flavor, texture and color.

Everything else ranged from good to very good to well-nigh perfect, and dinner was extremely enjoyable, especially with a pair of margaritas (far more successful than a pair of jacks) to open and to bet on their being a superior accompaniment to the chips.

Sticking to the Mexican theme, we sampled a duck-mango tamale and a pulled pork empanada, both tasty and nicely spiced. I favored the empanada, because the pork shoulder was sweet and tender thanks to long cooking. The tamale, with a piquant barbecue sauce, also was a winner. Other appetizers include the ceviche, along with oysters on the shell, mussels, fried calamari, a pepper stuffed with cheese and chorizo sausage and a chicken quesadilla. 

Soups were brilliant. Pozole, with dried tomoatoes to accompany the well-cooked chunks of hominy, was warming on a chill night, with a rich broth, and the traditional classic of black bean soup was glorious, with the beans just soft enough and a drizzle of ancho cream adding a look and a flavor that took it out of the ordinary. The menu, which uses the Spanish word sopas, reminded me of one of my early days in high school Spanish, when the teacher gave us a handy memory device, "In Spanish, sopa is not soap and ropa is not rope." They are, respectively, soup and clothes.

One of the things that sets Gontram apart as a chef, as it did at Harvest, is the fact that he knows how to complete a plate with more than the standards that define too many restaurants. He uses splendid raw ingredients and the imagination that almost everyone needs to truly succeed in a chosen profession.

For example, such sides as fire-roasted pineapple salsa, cumin whipped parsnips, refried beans, garlic mashed potatoes, braised greens (mustard greens one night),
plantain chips, a marvelous cheesy polenta or a grapefruit-jicama salad accompany various dishes, and they are superb. There are roasted vegetables, too, of various types, and the menu includes an entree of grilled and roasted vegetables brushed with chile-garlic butter, a brushing that would make any vegetable – with some necessary exceptions, of course – taste splendid.

Salads are first-rate, too, despite Gontram's disparaging description of the category as "rabbit food." An old-fashioned wedge of iceberg lettuce under peppercorn ranch dressing is modernized with a sprinkling of crispy fried onions, and the spinach salad, of tender, sweet baby leaves, had a chipotle-chorizo vinaigrette dressing that was outstanding, and the dish got a texture treat with a handful of toasted and spiced pecans. Mixed greens come with a mango-sherry vinaigrette, and there's also a fried green tomato salad with Gulf crabmeat and apple-salsa dressing.

The entrees involve a half-dozen major meat dishes, including striploin, ribeye or "Texas flatiron" steaks, rack of lamb, rack of pork and a tri-tip roast, quite popular in California and coming from the area of the beef around the sirloin tip. It was excellent, but not as good as the huge pork chop, which was magnificent, beautifully marinated for extra flavor, tender and with the richness that makes midwest pork such a treat.

Side dishes include that superb, rich polenta with cheese that was as fine a polenta as the Guru has enjoyed. Other choices include grilled vegetables, beans, superior crisp and dry onion rings with a light, crunchy batter, and potatoes that can be mashed, French fried and home fried.

There's a daily special or two, and a splendid, tender, tasty, roasted duck breast atop delicious whipped parsnips. We also sampled tender, extremely rich braised beef cheeks with the great polenta, delightful, sharp mustard greens and a crisp, tangy chile sauce. The salmon special one night was a winner; a tilapia special had good flavor but was slightly overdone.

The wine list is not very long, but has some good by-the-glass selections, including a superior Cartlidge and Brown syrah from Australia.

Desserts are satisfactory, but this is a restaurant where the dessert course takes a back seat to dinner. Still, a chocolate cake with a touch of Mexican spicing was pleasing and a sorbet dessert featured superior coconut, pleasant raspberry and mango that had almost no fruit flavor. It arrived with a crisp, light sopapilla, almost like a cookie.

Tejas is a good experience, a strong addition to the Clayton collection.