Review: Anthony's Bar in St. Louis

Did you ever think a plate would come out of Tony’s kitchen with a handful of pickled ginger in one corner? Or that the flavors of sesame oil or lemongrass would be deliciously evident? Or that potato latkes would be not only on the plate but also on
the menu?

Well, it really isn’t Tony’s, but dishes that are more contemporary and equally delicious now come from its kitchen. Familiar, formally dressed servers carry trays across the lobby of the Downtown building to the small, elegant, 30-ish seat space that was the bar for Anthony’s when that restaurant opened in 1972. When Anthony’s closed after 20 exciting years, the bar became a delightful Downtown lunch spot, with superior pregame hamburgers on baseball nights.

And now?

Open a few months, Anthony’s still is a work in progress, but it is taking a large step forward as the Bommarito family expands its position as the benchmark for St. Louis restaurants. While Tony’s remains an ultimate destination for celebratory meals served in regal comfort, changing times and changing tastes demand –
well, change.
And that’s what Vincent pere and Vincent fils, with help from Blake Brokaw, have brought to Anthony’s. The menu is small, with none of the half-dozen or so entrées, plus a few nightly specials, over $20. There are appetizers to compare and contrast, and a wine list that is limited in number but with some good selections.

So the small bar, with the same gleaming crystal and linen and comfortable black chairs, is more than it was while remaining different from its relative across the hall. But a couple of visits brought superior meals, and a table at the window provides a fine view of Cardinals fans on their way to the game. There’s a drawback, however: No reservations are accepted in the small place, so people who want to dine before the game are gambling they can get tables.

And one more surprise to make everything easier. Use the valet parkers at Tony’s on Market Street, then stroll around the corner to the Broadway entrance for Anthony’s.

The dinner menu is different from that used at lunch, though the work is done in the same kitchen. Even the Caesar salad is different. Romaine remains the same, but the evening variety is dressed with a balsamic vinaigrette while lunch brings a more classic, slightly creamier version with tuna. Soups may be the constant from noon to nightfall, but the soups at Tony’s always have been outstanding. A tomato bisque, rich and smoky from roasted tomatoes, dotted with delicious croutons, is an ideal start, as are such divergent possibilities as a marvelous spinach-and-mushroom-filled tamale (yes, Virginia, tamales from a Bommarito kitchen) or tangy chicken wings in a red sauce that has the lovely notes of Thai red curry paste and sesame oil. Even more adventurous – and excitingly delicious – is a plate with two different tartares, the traditional beef with capers and red onions and a modern, Asian version of sashimi-grade tuna, finely chopped and singing of lemongrass and other mysterious flavors of the Orient. Glorious.

Main courses are equally as good, and Anthony’s, like Tony’s, pays attention to details and to the extra little fillip of style, texture and flavor. One perfect combination was soda-straw-thin green beans mixed with walnuts and some Gorgonzola cheese for a brilliant vegetable. And the latkes, or potato pancakes, were a gallant effort, even though they fell short, arriving heavy and without much flavor. Of course, my experience with the dish came from my mother, and while she was not a consistently great cook, she came awfully close with her light, delicate potato pancakes.

A pork chop with a bit of encrusted cornmeal was tasty, extremely juicy and balanced perfectly by a risotto cake of perfect style and texture and those green beans mentioned above. Cod wrapped in prosciutto was another winner, with the fish, moist and at the perfect cooking point, benefiting from the tang of the cured ham. Great combination.

Dessert brings out the sybarite in all of us, and the concept of “soup and a sandwich” for dessert brings questions. What is it? It’s a large sandwich of vanilla ice cream with a dark chocolate cookie, pungent with perfect spicing, led by a hint of black pepper. And the soup? That’s a cup of dark, rich chocolate sauce, or a rather thin but dark and rich chocolate pudding, served in a cup for dipping or for pouring. Glamorous and glorious.

And there’s also the superb rice pudding, dotted with dried cherries, or the molten chocolate cake.

Look out, Tony – here comes Anthony.