Few restaurants in St. Louis engender such high hopes and vigorous differences of opinion as Herbie’s Vintage 72. For some folks, it’s all about the bar and the scene, and the food is secondary, if it’s mentioned at all. For others, it’s a path to a memorable past, and the present is measured against that. Other folks have no idea of what to expect. We have heard all these stories and more. We have eaten and drank, separately and together, in its original incarnation as Balaban’s, of the fabled restaurant Class of 1972, and the subsequent iterations under proprietors who followed founder Herb Balaban Karp.
Because of its heritage, Herbie’s is held to a higher standard than most two-year-old eateries. And with entrees from $23 to $36, it tells customers it is better than most restaurants in St. Louis. (Pollack’s First Law: Restaurants set their standards by the way they price themselves, i.e., if you’re the most expensive restaurant in town, you better be the best restaurant in town.)
But things didn’t start out auspiciously on a recent visit to the dining room. Bluepoint oysters were amazingly flavorless and dried out, a real surprise from a kitchen that historically has offered first-rate oysters. But the nicely moist shrimp dumplings with tender skin and a forthright ginger-soy glaze put us in a much better mood.
And so did a house salad bearing slices of strawberry, crumbles of goat cheese and some sunflower seeds. The blueberry poppyseed dressing, while mildly sweet, didn’t turn the whole thing into a dessert rather than a first course, and for people like us, who don’t care for sweet salad dressings, it was a pleasant surprise.
The morel pasta is not on the menu, but in morel season it’s always a special, probably ever since 1972. Available in two sizes, the appetizer portion was still a reasonable main course since the richness of the creamy mushroom sauce laced with port and the fresh fettuccine are deeply satisfying. We happily succumbed to the crispy duck with raspberry demi-glace. Yes, crisp, and with a nicely tart sauce, the half duck had the breast boned, for ease in eating It was irresistible, and so were the potatoes Lyonnaise, a gratin with a little onion. Alas, the other side dish was, in effect, the dreaded vegetable medley, a saute of zucchini and yellow squash. Still, not enough to make us turn up our collective nose at the duck.
Cajun shrimp and grits is a nearly-constant special, apparently, as many favorites have been over the years. Call it polenta if you will, but the pillowy cooked cornmeal is a perfect cushion for shrimp sauteed in garlic, pepper, and other, more mysterious spicing (thyme? rosemary?). Some complain that it’s greasy, but the pan juices and the butter-oil mixture are half the fun as they perk up the soothing flavor of the grits. And there may have been a hit of truffle in there, as well.
Another hangover from the Days That Were are the chocolate fritters, ping pong ball-sized pieces of a piping-hot delight, with a gooey chocolate inside heightened by a touch of Bailey’s Irish Cream. They’re terrific, but we tried a couple of other things. The bread pudding is pleasant enough but nothing to cause gasps. On the other hand, our guest had never heard of gooey butter cake, and when it arrived, sauced with warm bourbon caramel, we were all joyous. This is one of the city’s best versions of the St. Louis classic, and needs to be a permanent fixture.
Good service on a surprisingly quiet evening. A miss was a failure to offer a bistro menu. It’s always been true that while there are separate menus for the sidewalk bistro and the dining rooms, diners can order from either or both.
The wine list is long and expensive, but there are bargains here and there, as well as opportunities to sample some unusual offerings like the young, but extremely pleasant Mouvedre we enjoyed.
Herbie’s Vintage 72
405 N. Euclid
314-769-9595
Dinner nightly, Brunch Sat.-Sun.
Credit cards: Yes
Wheelchair access: Poor
Smoking: No
Entrees: Bistro $18-$36, Dining room $23-$36
