Review: Modesto in St. Louis

To a professional eater, there are few things as disappointing as an unsatisfactory meal. After all, one is dining for fun as well as profit, to expand the stomach (only a little) and the store of culinary knowledge (as much as possible).

But the memory of a meal that fails to please is totally wiped out when the Guru returns to the restaurant and finds not only a 180-degree turnaround in both kitchen and service, but also a meal of classic tendencies in an establishment whose very attitude brings forth the desire to return, and soon.

So it is at Modesto, the Spanish-influenced restaurant in the old Fair Mercantile Building on the Hill, where the arrival of Grace Dinsmoor as executive chef marked the beginning of major changes, all for the better.

It's comfortable room, long and with a good view of the Hill neighborhood. Tapas, or little snacks, originally served at Spanish bars to accompany drinks, come in all varieties, at all price and taste levels. They can be as simple as a piece of garlic toast, or an anchovy, or a slice of sausage, or as elaborate as the chef's imagination dictates. The idea is to go with friends, order in clumps of three or four dishes at a time, share the tastes and do it again. The menu at Modesto shows 13 cold dishes (tapas frias) and 18 warm ones (tapas calientes). The suggestion is to eat the cold ones first, but that's merely a suggestion. Taste preferences, or curiosity, should prevail.

Tapas, like dim sum, are an opportunity to sample a variety of textures and flavors, and since they arrive in small portions, there is no major commitment. Tapas have evolved from a snack served with a drink, but it takes a number of dishes to make up a meal. While dim sum is served from carts that roll past the table so diners can see what they're about to get, tapas are listed on a menu, but Modesto offers good explanations of the basic ingredients.

With Dinsmoor at the helm, Modesto offers a good variety, nicely flavored and with some heat, but not overly so. Many of the ingredients are familiar, but the sauces and garnishes are in the Spanish style. The diner's choice is to order a few tapas as appetizers before an entree, or to make a meal of the little dishes. Both styles are satisfying.

The entrees, with a daily special or two, involve one each of beef, pork, chicken, fish and vegetables, plus two paellas, the handsome dish where the light yellow of saffron rice contrasts with red peppers and green peas. Modesto has a vegetarian version, and one with chicken, shellfish and sausage. Salads include mixed greens, spinach, Caesar and one that features garlic-roasted beets and grilled zucchini. A shrimp-and-clam chowder is a menu constant, but the soup of the day on one visit was a garlic soup that was absolutely delicious, with the garlic roasted to the point where only a delightful nut-like flavor remained.

It's difficult to find a plate of tapas the Guru doesn't like, but Dinsmoor's dishes show a particularly lovely presentation, deep flavors and a nifty imagination for mixing and matching to complement and highlight the tastes, whether familiar or not.

For example, white anchovies, making a strong entry into local restaurants, are lighter and less "fishy," than the ones we see more often. These are a related, but not identical fish, of a different color and with less salt. Those who recoil at the idea of the "hairy little fish," may be more accepting of these, served with bread, olives and a touch of paprika oil for spicing.

Fabada, a combination of white beans and spicy sausages, brings a superb contrast of flavors; the beans are perfectly cooked, soft but not mushy, and the housemade sausages have a lovely hint of pepper and garlic to match the smoked meat. Mushroom lovers will become ecstatic, maybe even orgasmic, at a dish that mixes crimini, oyster and shiitake mushroom, lightly sauteed with a hint of spicy mojo sauce. Mussels, steamed in a sauce that highlights both garlic and chervil, are both familiar and different, thanks to Dinsmoor's touch.

Baby octopi (octopuses?), known as pulpo in Spanish, are a delight in a sauce of olive oil, garlic, red pepper, tomato and onion, and short ribs are braised to tenderness, then topped with paprika horseradish cream and sherry.

Fried potatoes in spicy tomato sauce with aoili, a garlic mayonnaise, are delicious, if slightly greasy, but they're a perfect companion to pinchos de cordero, lamb kebabs grilled in a Moroccan style, with overtones of pepper and harissa, and served with tomato-onion salsa and a mint-yogurt sauce that is so far superior to the cliche of mint jelly that it must be tasted to be believed. Sausage lovers like the Guru are strong for chorizo cooked in red wine with a bay leaf, a delightful combination.

Empanadillas, or miniature empanadas, vary from day to day, according to the chef's whim, and hot choices also include fried lobster tail, chicken croquettes, delicious fried eggplant, calamari with cherry peppers, sauteed shrimp and artichokes, and a brochette of beef and cheese chunks.

Among the cold tapas are a chickpea puree much like hummus; a potato, onion and black truffle omelet (yes, served cool), the truffle oil bringing a new note to the dish, properly called a tortilla, ubiquitous on American tapas menus and usually stolid and mundane. The spectacular smoked duck breast with cheese and pear marmalade danced a flamenco on the tongue, not hot-spicy but intriguing and happy. By the way, on the circumference of the Mediterranean, smoked duck breast is served often amid populations that don't eat pork because the smoking technique makes the duck taste a lot like ham.

Modesto has a full bar and a wine list, but we tasted the sangria, a wine-and-fruit juice cocktail served over ice with slices of orange or lemon, and we stayed with it. Modesto's version is a lot drier -- and a lot more flavorful -- than many the Guru has tried, and it went well with all the spicy dishes.

Service, by the way, has improved as much as the cooking has.

Desserts include the traditional flan, or caramel custard, improved here with a hint of lemon, and Moroccan-style bread pudding, which had an extremely sponge-cake feel, not at all like what Americans expect, given the name, but certainly delightful. The bizcocho borracho is another round with sponge cake, also moistened and served with some candied orange segments for a splendid contrast -- and elegant balance -- of the two flavors. None of the desserts is quite the expected version, but the surprises are consistently good ones.