Review: Zinnia in Webster Groves

It seems as though this purple palace always has been part of the scene at the northern edge of Webster Groves, perfect for fine dining on the way to enjoying the Rep or Opera Theatre, but only a dozen or so years ago, this was a gas station that served superior Italian-style sandwiches, the sort that the Guru enjoyed at grocery stores in the Italian neighborhoods of the New York City of his boyhood.

But then David Guempel, who had spent the previous years taking Balaban's to a high place among St. Louis restaurants, followed the urge to have his own place, and took his knives and his considerable talent to the little spot at the corner of Shrewsbury Avenue.

But purple?

"I always liked the color," he said recently as he stopped to chat while taking a quick stroll through the dining room, his eyes moving constantly to make sure that there were no evident flaws.  "Besides," he added with a grin, "it made it easy to find."

No question about that. In the various Zagat surveys that I've been involved in, hardly a response form comes in without some reference to the color, and few arrive with less than glowing remarks about the food.

Guempel's selection and preparation define "modern American," and his choice of entrees sings to the wide variety of raw materials on American farms.  But he pushes suppliers and challenges his clientele.  For example, it's one of the few restaurants in town to have calf sweetbreads -- a long-time personal favorite -- on the menu, not just as an occasional special but as a constant item.  And there are lamb shanks, and roast loin of pork, and quail and duck, plus chicken, roast beef and trout.  In other words, something to satisfy the diner who likes to wander from the well-traveled road of the same old flavors, but doesn't necessarily want to search through uncharted territory.

There are specials, too, depending on the season.  Usually a couple of seafood dishes and an appetizer or two.  Soft shell crabs, either sauteed or fried, are a superb seasonal dish as either an appetizer or an entree.

Speaking of appetizers, the seven featured on the menu now feel as though they've been there forever.  We've tried all of them through the years, and I wouldn't change  them, either.  Ann feels about the duck tacos as I do about the sweetbreads, and we're happy with the tangy sesame lamb meatballs; mussels Zinnia, chilled in a honey-dill dressing; Thai-spiced chopped chicken and mushrooms in lettuce cups; smoked trout; portobello mushroom-goat cheese quesadillas; and very rare tuna, quickly fried in a tempura batter and served with fiery wasabi (that's the green Japanese horseradish) and tangy pickled ginger (that's the peachy pink).

The smoked trout, perhaps introduced to the Balaban's menu (where it also has perennial status) by Guempel, is seen many places, but the mussels and the tacos have a unique flavor, and lemon grass and cilantro bring a special flavor to the chicken-mushroom combination.

Pates show up as specials, in all their rich, flavorful glory, and don't forget the soups, perhaps a delightful, perfectly chilled gazpacho in summer, or a lentil-and-ham, thick and smoky and just right for winter evenings.  Salads, offered either in half-sized or full portions, are another fine starter, though the smaller one allows for both soup and salad before an entree without causing discomfort and/or guilt brought on by over-eating.  Of course, there's dessert, too, but making a should-I-or-shouldn't-I decision in that area brings an immediate ride on the horns of a dilemma.

Among the salads, however, I'm extremely fond of the Caesar, with almost enough anchovies.  Of course, in my house, when it comes to Caesar salads, or pizza, or many other things, it's a long way to too much when it comes to the salty little fish.  

The standard field greens salad, topped with a choice of homemade dressings, is excellent, and an ideal lunch choice would be the smoked breast of duck salad, combining the delicious fowl with greens, grapefruit sections, grilled onions, peppers and pears under a Pommery mustard vinaigrette.  Fruit and duck are a fine combination, with the citrus cutting into the duck's richness to make a fine blend.

Entrees arrive with a few vegetables, chosen at Guempel's always imaginative whim.  Broccolini and asparagus brought the hearty green of late spring the last time around, and there's always a starch, too, though the mashed potatoes that accompanied the duck suffered from too heavy a hand with the rosemary.  Rosemary may be for remembrance, as Shakespeare said, but let's make it light-hearted memory.  The duck itself, a grilled breast preferably served rare, has a sauce bolstered with plenty of blackberries for a special flavor that isn't overly sweet. It was outstanding.  Guempel finds many ways to handle duck, and each is better than the one previously tasted.

With the exception of the trout Zinnia, a trademark dish of perfectly grilled, sweet local trout encrusted with sesame seeds, pecans and pine nuts, fresh fish is usually a special, and soft shell crabs in season, lightly floured and deliciously cooked to be crisp of claw and soft of body, are a continual wonder.  Unfortunately, crabs are not always in season, but a recent fish special took their place without missing a step.  Scallops and grouper, big, fleshy chunks of fish, were in a paella-style sauce that included a couple of shrimp and bits of Spanish-style chorizo (more like salami, rather than the crumbled Mexican style) and was a splendid contrast to well-cooked rice.  It had a bit of saffron, and it was delicious. I'd have liked a little more spicing, but for a lot of St. Louisans, who expend considerable courage to merely enter a purple restaurant, a strong hit of pepper might have been too much.

The sweetbreads are always wonderful, and usually prepared simply, with mushrooms and capers, and a light Madeira glaze.  I like most organ meats (and Zinnia does spectacular liver and onions, too), and there's a delicacy to sweetbreads that sets them apart.  They come from the thymus, or pancreas (according to Merriam-Webster's Dictionary) of a calf, and I'm particularly fond of them.

Zinnia also does very well with lamb, either as grilled chops or a slow-roasted shank, boned so it can be eaten with knife and fork, thus avoiding the problem with meat juices dripping from the fingers onto one's theater-going finery.

The wine list is modest, but there are some good wineries and vintages represented, and a large by-the-glass selection which can lead to moderation, always a worthy attitude when dining before a performance at the Rep or Opera Theatre.  I've always felt that the production should be allowed to put you to sleep by itself without too much help from alcohol.  And remember, don't blame yourself for dozing off; put the onus where it belongs, on the stage.

Desserts are worthy.  Zinnia's STP, or sticky toffee pudding, not really a pudding but a delicious chunk of spice cake/gingerbread, topped with toffee sauce and creme Anglais.  It's a shade behind the version at the St. Louis Brewery and Tap Room, where they use real whipped cream, but it's darn good, and a dark chocolate brownie, studded with chocolate chips, is splendid.  So is Key lime pie.

Service is calm and excellent, from a staff that knows the menu and the preparations and most important, does not gush over the dishes that are being discussed.  A line on the menu reminds the diner to speak up if time is limited, so tell Larry Adams, the other half of the Purple Pair, usually in charge of the seating, or the server, if time is a potential problem.  You'd be surprised how easily things will work out. And by the way, extra-smooth service deserves a reward at the end of the meal.