If I'd had my druthers when I was looking to move to St. Louis, about
a year ago, I would have taken up residence on North or South Rosebury,
either of the Siamese-twin avenues that bridge the St. Louis-Clayton
border, conjoined where they intersect with Skinker Boulevard but forked
by the time they terminate a block west at DeMun Avenue. The way I
pictured life on those tree-lined streets, daybreak would be greeted
with a ritual cup of coffee at Kaldi's, on the corner of DeMun and
Northwood; Duke (the dog I didn't yet own, who nonetheless was an
integral piece of the dreamed-up pastiche) would frolic on the rolling
grounds of Concordia Seminary; I'd do a daily run around Forest Park;
and my neighborhood nosh spot would be Jimmy's Cafe on the Park.
I liked Jimmy's humble, weathered red awning. On the basis of the few
times I'd passed by the dark but welcoming place, I conjured an image of
Jimmy's as the sort of spot where one could order a burger and a beer at
the bar at three o'clock in the afternoon, and even if the kitchen was
technically closed until dinner, somebody would find a way to make it
happen, then keep me company while I ate. Jimmy's would be my kitchen
away from home.
I never got an apartment on Rosebury, and it wasn't until recently
that I finally made it to Jimmy's. Although my assumptions about the
place were as off-track as the rest of my DeMun daydream, I'm glad I
finally went in. It's a bit too pricey and gussied-up to suit as a
regular hang, but the food at this nine-year-old establishment is
deliciously dependable. With but two decent-size spaces to work with --
the original café room and, immediately to the north, a five-month-old
bistro room that used to be an art gallery -- Jimmy Kristo has fashioned
something of a megarestaurant, offering so many dining options, even the
management has trouble keeping it all straight.
Here goes: There is one lunch menu for both rooms; the bistro's
dinner menu is only served in the bistro, but the café's dinner menu can
be ordered in either room; early-evening dinner specials, available only
in the café on weeknights until 6:30 p.m., pair downsized portions of
café entrées with a soup or salad for $13.95; from 10:30 p.m. until
midnight on weekends, the bistro makes available a ten-item late-night
array of appetizers (bruschetta, hummus, etc.) and slightly heftier fare
(chicken pizza) from both dinner menus, plus good, got-the-munchies
selections such as house-made potato chips, plus desserts (which aren't
printed on any menu); and then there's Sunday brunch, which you can eat
anywhere, and off just one menu.
The aesthetics of the two rooms couldn't be more different. The café
is St. Louis' answer to Sardi's, the Times Square warhorse that has
served as Broadway's unofficial clubhouse for 82 years, famous for its
countless framed caricatures of Great White Way stars. (Any Muppets
Take Manhattan fans? Remember the scene in which Kermit replaces
Liza Minnelli's caricature with his own, then sits at a table directly
beneath it as a way to drum up interest in his new musical?) At Jimmy's,
some 700 cartoonish pencil renderings of regulars and local celebs grace
the hunter-green walls. A somber-hued carpet and white tablecloths round
out the café's distinctly country-club feel (which isn't to say the
place looks dour -- it doesn't). The bistro facsimiles a New York feel,
too -- but it's a downtown, Sex and the City vibe, replete with
purple-velvet love seats, a red-granite bar top and a dramatic open-air
fire pit smack-dab in the middle of the room.
Among Jimmy's panoply of menus, there's little overlap between the
biggest two, the café dinner and the bistro dinner. The bistro more
heavily favors appetizers and salads, with just three entrées (chicken
rosemary, jambalaya and meatloaf). But again, anything available in the
café is also available in the bistro -- though to repeat, the reverse is
not true. And it is on the café menu that the kitchen's self-assurance
is best displayed.
The café menu kicks off with safe bets. Appetizers include tuna
tartare, bruschetta, crab cake and tomato bisque. All are handled
confidently. Though a departure from the definitive, it's nice to
partake of a bisque that's chunky, as this one is with its diced
tomatoes; simple pink purées get so boring. Jimmy's signature starter,
the flash-fried spinach, continues to wow newcomers and regulars alike
with its funky, disintegrate-in-your-mouth, astronaut-ice-cream texture.
Caesar salad is classically tossed, save for the deployment of an
anchovy-garlic dressing to do the flavor work of actual anchovies (which
is still more anchovy recognition than is offered by too many caesars
these days). Pear salad bears a glaze that tastes of cranberry sauce and
serves as an object lesson on how to render a salad sweet but not
sugary. (Are you listening, Wild Flower?) Only the house "cafe salad,"
composed of dark greens, red onions, grape tomatoes and a
roasted-red-pepper vinaigrette, falls flat; it tasted somewhat
pedestrian.
Though the café room has that bit of old-mannishness to it, Jimmy's
Cafe is not a steakhouse. Despite this, the runaway hit among the
entrées is the red meat. There's tenderloin Anthony (eight ounces of
grilled beef topped with Gorgonzola, Brie and grilled shrimp), pepper
steak and nearly always one other cut on the rotating list of specials.
A request for medium-rare brings to the table a piece of meat cooked
just right -- with a core of pure pinkness. Seafoods -- cedar-plank
salmon, mango shrimp, seafood linguine -- are righteous, accented with
ingredients such as Granny Smith apples, walnuts, pancetta vinaigrette,
bacon and scallions. Like the meats, these are blessedly undercooked --
all the better to bring out flavor. But as with the salad course, here
the least rousing item is one of the house specialties: Oatmeal-crusted
chicken possesses little pizzazz beyond its fun-sounding name.
A formidable dessert tray proves irresistible -- even if, once again,
as with the appetizers, safe bets rule. Of course there's crême brûlée,
and of course it is a vanilla-spiked treat; of course there's a
lava-centered chocolate cake topped with vanilla ice cream, and of
course it elicits sighs of satisfaction. Cheesecake receives a
surprising maple-walnut infusion, and the croissant-derived bread
pudding is done up with raspberries, chocolate and a Grand Marnier
English cream. The sole misstep here is the white-chocolate-mousse
espresso cake, which isn't soft enough, causing the layers to separate
disappointingly.
With the new bistro, Jimmy's Cafe is bringing in a younger, hipper
clientele. It's a smart business move, one that works toward ensuring a
steady influx of customers for years to come. Jimmy's may not be the
casual and leisurely joint of my dreams, but that doesn't mean it's not
a great restaurant to have around.
