It's an adventure just finding the restaurant named Element. Between Lafayette Square and Soulard, it sounds easy enough. But itt's off a sidestreet, not possessed of much signage, and in one of several sort-of-similar buildings. Whether you've been around these parts long enough to say it's behind the old City Hospital #1 or if you're a newcomer and describe it as being north of the Georgian condominiums, it's still tricky. I'd scouted the location out in the daylight before this visit for dinner, and on the dark and stormy night of dinner, it proved a wise move.
It's in City #1's old power plant, the building also holding a climbing gym. Be patient with the twists and turns of getting into the parcel of land on which it (and Palladium, the event facility in another nearby building) rests. The restaurant itself is on the second floor via a winding corridor with windows onto the climbing walls. The third floor holds the restaurant's lounge, often closed, as it was this night, for private functions. (Per the website, it's never open on Saturdays.) Element's dining area is L-shaped, thanks to an open kitchen and serving area which provide live entertainment for the diner, although there are also televisions spread around, sound off and hockey games flashing. The feeling is very industrial, lots of straight lines and originalish surfaces of brick and metal. That, of course, raises the noise level, but that's no surprise these days.
The overall impression is casual. So it comes as a bit of a surprise when it's announced that bread and butter service – their phrase – is $3. Gael Greene wrote about the high-end restaurants fifty years ago in New York – think Forum of the Twelve Caesars – charging for it, the charge appearing unannounced on final bills, but it's still a surprise (but not unknown) in St. Louis. What it brought was a half-loaf of a decent baguette, warm, thinly sliced almost all the way through, and a ramekin of honey butter.
Small and large are how the menu delineates items. All come on very large plates, picture frames, as it were, for the exquisite presentations of food. Probably because of that presentation, the smalls seem larger than anticipated and the large appear smaller. Pork belly, two unctuous strips carefully browned, were accompanied by a spiced French prune jam, a solo prune, apple slices and walnuts and a little blue cheese, a nice contrast of textures, spicing and tastes. Roasted marrow bone, with toasted bread from a different sort of loaf than the baguette, had small dice of roasted pear, a shower of Italian parsley and some bacon that, surprisingly, didn't add much but texture to the garnish.
From the large list, arrived what the menu called lamb pot roast. From a French grandmere, perhaps, this would have been a pot roast, but its appearance was too elegant. Three rounds of succulent braised lamb rode rafts of carrrot, little cippolini onion and fingerling potato, the whole anointed gently with a complex reduction of the juices with red wine, a dark mystery of the palate. The other large was thick slices of pork tenderloin, moist, still a little pink. The meat alone was texturally near-perfect but lacking in flavor – until you tried it with a little of the peppercorn chutney or what I think were flash-fried strips of leek or green onion, dressed in a sharp vinaigrette. Then it was properly showcased. Thin slices of sweet potato added more color than dash to the dish, but the braised leek, an unapprecited vegetable in this part of the world, did well, also.
Desserts were the house's take on a Snickers bar and their take on s'mores, plus a cheese plate. Not this time, thanks. An after dinner drink? No cocktail menu, it seems, just give the bartender some hints and let him fix you something. Not this time, thanks.
So the food was good. It was, in fact, very good. But there's something a little out of focus here. The service was pleasant but a little fumbly with a few miscues, but that can be a fixable problem. And, yes, it was noisy, but there are worse in town. It took a few days of reflection to realize the theme of what my discomfort was: There's not enough respect being given to what's on those carefully-arranged plates. Too many television sets – is this a bar and grill? The wood on the tables is handsome with that deep-looking acrylic sealingt, but it's incongruous; they need tablecloths. And the lighting to view those plates is pretty awful – it's enough to read menus with, but sometimes those details we're putting fork to are almost indistinguishable.
There's nothing wrong with casual, but there's a cognitive dissonance here that needs fine-tuning.
Element
1419 Carroll St.
314-241-1674
Lunch Tues.-Fri., Dinner Tues.-Sat.
Credit cards: Yes
Wheelchair access: Fair
Smoking: No
Entrees – er, sorry, "Large": $16-$21