Review: Revival in St. Louis

Its very name begs the question: What exactly is Revival reviving? Traditional Southern home cooking? The ugly, desolate area around Chouteau and Grand avenues with the scenic view of railroad tracks and industrial parking lots? Or perhaps, as it says on the menu, Revival is pursuing “the revival of craftsmanship in our cooking and service.”

Based on a couple of visits, what the new restaurant seems to be really resurrecting is the popularity of the rustic building’s previous occupant, King Louie’s (easily one of St. Louis’ best and most cherished restaurants), because the place was hopping with diners who seemed at home in familiar digs. Revival’s owners – a seasoned team consisting of chef Cary McDowell and his wife Holly, pastry chef Carolyn Downs and her husband Charlie, and Mike Johnson, whose imprint is seemingly on nearly every new restaurant in town – are also bringing back the notion that serving interesting food at decent prices is still a recipe for success.

Interesting food, as in sweetbreads, chicken liver mousse, steak tartare and rabbit. Decently priced, as in “fancy dinner plates” averaging in the mid-teens. Very little is complicated here, but McDowell can make simple dishes taste as complex as the food he prepared in Daniel Boulud’s New York restaurants, where he first started slinging pots and pans professionally. He did the same locally at The Crossing and Liluma – two excellent restaurants he owned with Jim Fiala (who still owns them).

Revival’s menu could have been written by Hemmingway – short, direct, factual statements – so you have to ask questions if you want detailed descriptors. Camp potatoes? Tiny, tender, steamed new potatoes. Call calves’ thymus glands sweetbreads, and suddenly they sound rather tasty. When I tucked into an appetizer of the crispy veal sweetbreads, savoring the dense texture and rich, concentrated earthy flavor, I vowed never again to limit my offal cravings to mere liver. About the size of a hefty chicken liver, four of them arrived lightly breaded and sizzling atop a layer of oyster mushrooms soaking up the delicious pan juices. Paired with a salad, the combo could easily make a light meal. Along the mix-’n’-match theme, pair a salad and/or a side dish – choose from nine – with substantial appetizers like fried oysters, salt-and-pepper chicken thighs, spare ribs or creamy grits with shrimp for a full meal. Sandwiches and small pizza flatbreads also make for easy grazing.

Simple comfort foods like short ribs and lamb became more comforting when paired with puréed, not fluffy, sweet potatoes, as the ribs were. Or the house-made, broad buttered noodles that buttressed the shredded braised lamb, perfect for sopping up thick pan juices. The mild, caramelized fennel, a classic French (and Italian) accompaniment to lamb, added a subtle layer of flavor to a dish that could easily be controlled by the hearty meat. A side of roasted brussels sprouts was deliciously spiked with bits of smoky bacon – oh my – but the texture suggested more of a quick cook rather than a slow roast. Speaking of sides, others we ate included macaroni and cheese seemingly straight from grandma’s kitchen, superb creamed spinach, and collard greens simmered in butter and Coca-Cola, making for a bittersweet, funky flavor profile.

There are things that don’t work so well. The stewed rabbit, pulled and mixed with sliced pimento-stuffed green olives and house-made cheese-stuffed ravioli and topped with a healthy grating of sharp cheese, could have been three separate dishes; too many competing flavors confusing the taste buds. Where the rabbit was cacophonous, the simple flavors of the “supper steak” rang clear: a sliced hanger steak, perfectly medium rare, ladled with a rich, red wine-veal reduction. In fact, deeply flavored reductions, pan juices or rustic sauces, each relevant to the particular food, enhanced nearly every dish we sampled.
Put pastry chef Downs in any kitchen and great things happen. She’s experienced enough – yes, she’s still at Cyrano’s – to know that sometimes a small, sweet snack is all we want after a filling meal. For two bucks each, you can modestly indulge in her heavenly lavender shortbread cookies, rich hard fudge or addictive hot-from-the-fryer beignets that the server shakes in a bag of powdered sugar tableside for you – now that’s fancy Southern service! You may find yourself ordering another bag to go (so much for guilt-free indulgence). For larger post-dinner appetites, there’s a full dessert menu to send you over the edge with rich sweets like chocolate bread pudding with Dr. Pepper sauce, Chess and Derby pies, and chocolate cake. We barely saved room for an exquisite buttermilk pound cake spiked with spiced pralines and sea salt and a red velvet cake that, while pretty basic, brought back memories of many childhood velvet cakes.

When the place is bustling, service can be slow and frenetic. Yet, as busy as he was, our server was always attentive and cool, keeping us posted while suggesting a favorite wine or two. Perhaps he was reviving a simple restaurant rule: even with a packed house, make diners feel they have your undivided attention.