Review: Franco in St. Louis

Recently I had the good fortune to meet Dee Ryan, the illustrious author of the monthly food quiz on Sauce’s Web site. And let me tell you, not only does she write a mean and challenging quiz that keeps me on my toes and scouring all sorts of food writing, but she is super-fun to drink wine with. When it was time for a refill, we gambled on the right to stay sitting: If she stumped the crowd, we would go for wine; if we answered correctly, she would. She kicked us all in the shins with arcane food trivia and never had to leave
her seat.

In her honor, I have incorporated a trivia question into my favorite article of the year.

Q: What do you get when someone opens a restaurant with what the owner described as “the goal of unpretentious, everyday, country French rustic food” with a commitment to sourcing local and fresh ingredients and providing a great dining experience in the entirety?

A: Well, duh. You get this year’s winner for favorite new restaurant: Franco.

Yeah, you all answered correctly. I would stand up and fetch wine for all of you if I had the means. Instead I offer you heartfelt thanks for a gift I treasure every year: the opportunity to let my guard down, dine with reckless abandon and tell you why your vote rocked.

When I asked owner Tom Schmidt why he thought Franco had struck such a positive chord with diners, he gave all the credit to the chefs: “Everything’s done from scratch, so everything that comes out of the kitchen was made with their hands.” Baking bread daily and creating the dishes is “artisans’ work; [they’re] making every dish as great as possible.”

If, like me, you are a foie gras fan, you already know that executive chef Justin Keimon owns that fatty organ, owns it! Have you had his new preparation, though? Rich, creamy, buttery, satiny foie gras mousse with just a touch (or not, it’s your call, as it is served on the side) of fleur de sel deliquesced down my throat. When the crispy crostini ran out and I used my fingers, the look on my mother’s face told me that she thought she’d raised me better. Sooooo didn’t care.

But if I did, my revenge would arrive almost immediately, disguised as specialized service ware for the very traditional escargot, served in-shell, swimming in garlic-herb butter. Subtle licorice flavor and understated garlic, delicious and complementing as they were to the plump mollusks, were no help when it came to using the escargot tongs. Being a good son, when the inevitable Pretty Woman moment occurred and the slick, dripping shell nearly shot across the dining room, I kept my joy private and internal.

A thick, juicy, tender pork chop and its mustard glaze were made for each other. The spicy and faintly sweet stone-ground mustard really brought out the flavor of the pork without obscuring it behind a haze of sugar. Sweet corn and surprisingly crunchy peas made an excellent textural counterpart.

Fresh morels and leeks starred in a creamy, savory ragoût that played extremely well with luxuriously moist and tender broiled Missouri trout. Cushiony dill Spätzle contributed an extra layer of herbaceous texture without muddling the flavor, and buttery haricots verts were cooked perfectly – still firm but beyond al dente.

While I can’t say this dish beat the trout with scallop mousseline and sabayon sauce I ordered when reviewing Franco originally, for the January issue, it was still, easily, the second-best trout I have ever had and was evidence of Keimon’s mastery of this delicate fish.

Supple sautéed salmon topped with a bright tomato gremolada seemed to be hovering on a bed of lush, mouthwatering, velvety and bacon-laden risotto. Silky sweet corn-olive oil emulsion interlaced everything and proved to be the bridge between all the flavors, linking them in a loving embrace. (OK, that was way beyond over the top, but it was a very tasty dish and will be ridiculous when tomatoes are in season.)

The space is incredibly warm for having been hardcore industrial for the past gazillion years … with a short stint as a seasonal haunted house. Diners are able to have something in the wide-open dining room not often experienced in rooms this size: conversation. The large, curvy, sound-diffusing wooden panels (reminiscent of chocolate shavings) suspended from the ceiling, coupled with a floor plan that gives diners elbow room, are responsible for this. Antique wood from a century-old barn was turned into a bar that adds a homey, warm feel to the front of the restaurant.

As I finished my meal with an excellent creamy and spicy root beer float, Schmidt told me, “It’s a great feeling to have people vote for us like that. To have been received in this first six months that we’ve been open and had people like the place; it’s been awesome.”

As the summer continues, you’ll find me in Franco’s full-service outdoor wine garden, nibbling on snails, tearing through an entrée or sipping a float.