Review: Café Balaban in Chesterfield

When someone brings up St. Louis icons, what comes to mind? For me it’s the Arch, the reflecting pool leading up to the Saint Louis Art Museum and the chubby French guy perennially panhandling on Euclid Avenue just north of McPherson in the Central West End. I’ve always had an affinity for this guy; he never bothers anyone, just holds out his hand looking for some help.

In a way, Chubbs is like Café Balaban itself, steadfast and resolute for more than 30 years while the neighborhood and, indeed, the entire restaurant industry, has been redefined a few times over. So when I read a press release with the sentence “Executive chef Dan Joyce has created an exciting new menu,” I perked up. That is a heck of track record to monkey with.

Before the new stuff, what better way to start a meal at a French-esque café than with a decidedly French dish, Escargots Bourguignonne? Usually hidden beneath heavy butter and garlic for skittish American diners, these six tender, juicy snails were allowed to be more than just a textural component, bringing an earthy undertone to the shallots, butter, garlic and chives. The poached apples in the slightly underdressed spinach-and-goat cheese salad were so sweet even the sharp goat cheese and rich, tangy, warm pancetta vinaigrette couldn’t quite cut the sugar. (My wife with the sweet tooth, however, couldn’t disagree more.)

The secret to the firecracker shrimp is not heat – the chipotle-tempura batter only contributed a palate-warming smokiness to the large, perfectly cooked shrimp, and the delicious, creamy wasabi slaw was reminiscent of Dijon mustard in spice and taste – but the tobiko caviar (flying fish roe) adorning the shrimp. As you chew, your skull sounds like you threw a brick of firecrackers into a roaring fire: pop, pop, popopopopop, pop … pop. Looking up from the tobiko-technics, I noticed that my dining companions had fallen on the scallops over house-made linguine in a basil-cream sauce (a seasonal special that can be served as an appetizer or entrée) like ravenous hyenas on a lame wildebeest. At great personal risk, I thrust my writing hand into the flying forks and knives to rescue a single taste. I, too, would have stabbed myself for more of this.

Our server pointed out the grilled lamb loin as a new dish. Garlic-and-rosemary jus and roasted Roma tomatoes complemented the tender, savory lamb while an olive tapenade proved an excellent salty, briny counterpoint. Spinach and crispy potatoes were nice textural and vegetative components, but the potatoes with some jus for dipping would have made a killer appetizer. A perfectly medium-rare 12-ounce strip steak crusted with blue cheese and served with a rich, herbaceous bordelaise sauce (wine, brown stock, bone marrow, shallots, parsley and herbs) equals crazy delicious. Whipped potatoes and fresh broccoli were nice accompaniments.

True to its classic identity, the enormous, über-tender veal medallions “Oscar” came with a good portion of succulent crab meat, béarnaise sauce and asparagus. However, the béarnaise was a little too vinegary and, along with another meaty and intense reduction sauce, arrived congealed. Decent asparagus and potatoes couldn’t make up for this gaffe. The Australian barramundi, however, could. A delicate, flaky, succulent whitefish, it was well-matched to the luscious lobster-butter sauce it arrived with. Crab-and-potato hash provided a complementary and fluffy nestling place for the fish.

There is no better way to end a meal at Balaban’s than with the chocolate fritters. Forget the menu description; these are deep-fried balloons of light batter filled with molten chocolate – basically the upscale French version of a deep-fried candy bar. There is no real way to stay clean while eating these, but they are worth every chocolate fingerprint.

Overall, the menu changes fit in seamlessly with the classic items and match well with the extensive wine list, which is heavy with big American Cabs and delicate French and American Pinots. The majority of the list offers excellent prices for superlative wine. Also, I give it kudos for a jam-tastic Zin selection. For my taste, though, it could cut down on the number of formerly trendy Merlots and oaky Chardonnays and fill the space with some different varietals or blends like a Hondarribi Zuri (a Spanish white), an Australian Semillon, a French Grenache-Syrah-Mourvèdre blend … heck, anything less boring.

Wines must sell, and, if customers buy them, I cannot find fault. Still, it seems odd that Balaban’s has only 10 sparklers on the list. After all, what better way to see and be seen than sipping a top-notch glass of bubbly?