Review: Atomic Cowboy in St. Louis

Sure, the name conjures the image of Slim Pickens riding an atomic bomb like a bucking bronco to his (and the world’s) doom in “Dr. Strangelove.” But once you’re through the door at Atomic Cowboy’s new location in The Grove neighborhood (it was formerly in Maplewood), it’s clear that this new-and-improved version is channeling the spirit of Steve Austin, the bionic man:

Atomic Cowboy, a coffee house, barely alive. Gentlemen, we can rebuild it. We have the technology. We have the capability to build the world’s first bionic restaurant. Atomic Cowboy will be that restaurant. Better than it was before. Bigger, cooler, tastier, MORE.

The most immediately noticeable difference between the old AC and the new incarnation is the size. Anyone familiar with the original would agree that it wasn’t, by any means, small. However, the new AC occupies an area roughly the size of Luxembourg. AC consists of three very distinct areas. Inside is half bar/restaurant and half lounge/gallery/coffee bar/nightclub; outside is the parade grounds, I mean patio.

Wood-paneled walls and warm lighting give the restaurant side a very comfortable, homey feeling … except that this home has a big ol’ bar with lots and lots of high-end tequilas. The lounge side is all exposed brick and open space with a number of comfy retro couches and chairs.

About a third of the patio is covered by – or rather, hollowed out of – what looks like a Quonset, one of those rounded, corrugated tin barracks Gomer Pyle lived in. The obvious advantage of this is that you can still dine outside during one of St. Louis’ gentle summer deluges that occasionally spring up. And for your convenience, there’s another large bar outside.

The food, however, is where the new AC really splits the atom. The menu touts “great ingredients, simply prepared, period. Nothing too terribly cute … .” Whoops, it forgot to mention extremely affordable (the printed menu ranges from $3 to $8). I’ve had tacos out of a guy’s trunk in Tijuana for about as much.

Starters and entrées are not clearly delineated on the menu. Just about everything is served on the same oblong plate about the size of a rugby ball and could be a shared starter or a meal unto itself. Start your dinner with homemade chips, which are served with either Atomic Salsa or handcrafted guacamole for dipping or as part of the Macho Nachos.

Both the slightly chunky salsa and the exceptionally smooth and thick guacamole contained an agreeable latent heat. The Macho Nachos, on the other hand, had a subtle, sweet citrus undertone from the pico de gallo that melded well with the “special ground beef,” two cheeses (of which there wasn’t quite enough) and salsa.

Crispy, fluffy Gaucho French Fries with the smoky tang of chipotle-lime mayo and the chunky bite of serrano-ketchup dipping sauces were a perfect supplement to the Cowboy Sliders and the cheeseburger burrito. After a slider (I refuse to explain what a slider is to St. Louisans) I felt like Forrest Gump, sitting there thinking I could eat about a million of ’em. An awfully familiar taste emanated from the cheeseburger burrito. Then when I ate a french fry it hit me: I was eating a gourmet version of a Big Mac combo meal complete with margarita.

The Mexican chicken sandwich, Los Cabos Gordita, is served with lettuce, cheese, pico de gallo and chipotle-lime aïoli. Common toppings on AC menu items, the pico de gallo and chipotle-lime aïoli intertwined well. The BBQ Chipotle Chicken Quesadilla sounded, and was, simple enough. But because I’m something of a barbecue-sauce junkie, I wanted them to bottle and sell it so that I can baste meat with it – or drink it straight, depending on how tough a day I’ve had.

Fish tacos were served with Mexican cheese, cabbage and – I bet you can’t guess – pico de gallo and chipotle-lime aïoli. This combination is versatile – on the chicken it imparts more of a citrus flavor, but on deep-fried fish it tastes more like mayonnaise and is one heck of a tartar sauce.

Although next time I’ll steer clear of the white sangria (which was surprisingly bad for an eatery that serves fresh-Mex), Atomic Cowboy ultimately is conducive to good times. With DJs getting the late-night party started about 9 p.m., you can start the night off with dinner and then stick around to enjoy an atmosphere that could explode into a fiesta at any moment.