Chez Leon, St. Louis’ most authentic French bistro, flourishes on pleasant summer evenings. The big front doors (French doors, of course) are flung wide, the sidewalk tables multiply, and passers-by and diners ogle each other while servers dodge the foot traffic. The restaurant’s red-orange facade is a beacon in the southern end of the Euclid Strip of the Central West End, a contrast to its sedate interior.
The menu is classic French cuisine bourgeois, with choices like coquilles St. Jacques and chicken Provencal. We remarked as we sat down to a recent dinner that there’s probably not a menu in town that carries so many things our family enjoys eating. The three-course prix fixe choices included duck, sweetbreads, skate, escargot, salade Lyonnaise and other dishes that constantly sing our song.
However, and unfortunately, the kitchen goes through periods of instability, and it looks as if we’re in one now. In addition, service on this busy night was erratic.
First courses went well, for the most part. A serving of escargot arrived bubbling in pools of garlic butter lightly flavored with fennel. We had to ask for bread, a vital component for this dish. Sopping up sauce may be as important as eating the escargot. The current supplier offers rolls more in the New
Orleans tradition of French bread, with a crispy crust and a light, un-chewy interior. Salade Lyonnaise, a green salad tossed with a very mild vinaigrette and fat pieces of bacon, was topped, quite properly, by a poached egg, its interior still runny. Foie gras (photo, right), a $2 supplement to the three-course prix fixe that most folks take advantage of, sat alongside some chopped cabbage quickly sauteed with more of that bacon and a small brioche roll, complete with the traditional topknot. The foie gras itself had been quickly sauteed and remained its unctuous, splendid self. A cold soup of tomato and red pepper, smooth rather than chunky, was pleasant but not particularly remarkable.
We’d had one round of "Who gets the salad?" with the first courses. Two of our three main courses arrived with the same puzzlement. And both had clearly been waiting a while under heating lamps. Skate, for those who haven’t had it before, is the large side fins (sometimes called wings) of the fish. Its texture is different, long strands rather than the usual large flakes found in cooked fish. Occasionally, one finds it served with the bones and cartilage, unusual in a good restaurant, but it was properly cleaned and prepared here, served in the classic fashion with a sauce of browned butter and capers. But the sauce and the fish had begun to dry out. A plate of sweetbreads, the delicate thymus glands of calves, had been similarly sauced, an oversight on our part, as we usually order different dishes. It had the same problem, a little drying of the sauce and the sweetbreads. The sweetbreads are thicker, so the textural changes were quite minor. Sweetbreads and skate are both delicate, good backdrops for a big-flavor sauce, and we would have been blissful had it not been for the drying. The sweetbreads were accompanied by a potato gratin, the sweetbreads by some rice, and both had properly cooked haricots vert, not crunchy and not droopy.
The third main course, steak frites, came several minutes later. The cut isn’t specified on the menu, but it seemed to be about six ounces of a strip steak, cooked as ordered, properly flavorful. We’d asked for a side of bearnaise, which automatically comes with the onglet, or hanger steak, which is also on the menu. Basically, it’s hollandaise with tarragon and shallot, one of our favorite sauces. We differed on this one, though; Ann thought it was extremely salty; Joe didn’t. But it was the frites, or fries, that made us sigh wistfully. Chez Leon’s fries are a barometer of the kitchen. On many visits, they’re absolutely world class, crispy-chewy, full of flavor. Right now, they’re a don’t-order. They tasted, and looked, like ordinary fries from Café Anonymous. Too bad.
On the other hand, the tarte tatin at dessert was on its game, although we’d prefer the traditional topping of whipped cream or creme fraiche to the scoop of admittedly high-quality vanilla ice cream that came with it. Tatins are upside-down apple tarts, the apples on the bottom caramelizing, the pastry top becoming properly brown and crisp, and the whole thing inverted with the lovely sticky juices adding to the fun (and the difficulty of turning it out nicely). Ice cream melts to un-crisp the pastry, we think, but overall this was a good rendition. The Grand Marnier souffle rose above the white ceramic souffle bowl, perfectly moist and fluffy. This kitchen has been knocking out souffles ever since they opened, and we’ve never had one that didn’t fly right off the spoon.
The all-French wine list is on the high side, but includes some excellent choices and some good values, both by the bottle and the glass. Rather than a by-the-glass list, the options are recited – on this particular night, the server couldn’t recall exactly which Cotes du Rhone and French Pinot Noir were being poured and returned with the bottles. The Syrah-based wines of the Rhone valley are long-time favorites, with good flavor and excellent body. And the French roses, often from Provence, are elegant and just right with something from the lighter side of the menu.
Chez Leon
4580 Laclede Ave.
314-361-1589
Dinner Tuesday-Sunday
Credit cards: All major
Wheelchair Access: Good
Smoking: Yes
Entrees: $24-$48; three-course prix fixe, $38