Bormio
When I think about the Alps, I picture verdant valleys, cerulean blue lakes, spruce and pine forests, and snow-capped mountains—its beauty undeniable, even to the blind.
I also think of visiting Switzerland when I was 18, when I went to Interlaken, discovered I had panic attacks, came home in shame, and started seeing my first therapist—a man who touched my leg or shoulder during our sessions, then insisted on a hug at the end.
Similar to my former therapist, Bormio’s food touched me.
Bormio is the newest restaurant from Wayne & Kendele Sieve, the couple behind Noto. If you’re thinking, “Wait, I thought that the downstairs restaurant was a Venetian spot called Bacaro?” read this.
For a city that was once a major hub for German immigrants, St. Louis really doesn’t have many German restaurants left. Great Heart Brewing opened recently in Olivette, but Bormio is reaching for something different, something more specific. It’s not just German cuisine, but Alpine cuisine, with dishes inspired by northwestern Italy, Switzerland, Austria, and France.
Wayne, the restaurant’s chef, doesn’t have much else going on these days, so he has researched the region obsessively. Rather than just reading about it in a book, he flew to South Tyrol in the Italian Alps—smushed between Switzerland and Austria—which has pushed the menu even further.
Of the starters, my favorite has easily been the Mousse. In another time, I’d think this plate came from Sidney Street Café or Niche. The mousse itself is made with Alp Blossom cheese, similar to a Gruyère, but its rind is made from edible flowers, like marigolds, cornflowers, rose, and so on, giving it an extra floral note. It’s surrounded by a charcoal and black truffle crumble, and its center is filled with a vermouth gel. To finish, it’s topped with an algae tuile, smoked trout roe, and flowers.
Out of all the dishes I’ve had at Bormio, this one seems like the dish, the one most representative of the region. I can imagine myself in a turtleneck, sitting at some incredibly expensive mountaintop restaurant, being served this.
If you like funky cheeses, hit the tartiflette with taleggio cheese, but if you’re looking for something more docile—but still cheesy—grab the spinach dumplings with Gruyère and brown butter or the porchetta sandwich that’s smeared with a spiced quark.
Alp Blossom cheese mousse
I ate a lot of sausages in Switzerland, partly they’re delicious, but mostly due to the bank shutting down my ATM card. I forgot to call and tell them I’d be out of the country. I only had the cash I’d brought with me.
Bormio recently added a “Wurst Hour,” which I had to try. I misread their post; I didn’t realize that I’d be getting five sausages, a plate of sauerkraut, and potato salads. I’ve never sat down for a meal and ordered five sausages before—I’ve thought about it—but I’m no Josef Schestnutt. For $28, it felt like a steal. Keep in mind it’s from 4-6pm on Wednesdays and Thursdays for now.
I don’t know what the mountain air did to Wayne, but with the mains, he is on another level.
Sauerbraten is the most classic of the entrees. Boneless beef short rib is braised in red wine spiked with juniper berry, then served over polenta. The dish is finished with a beefy sauce, crème fraiche, dill, and quince vinegar.
Arctic Char, a wonderfully flaky fish between salmon and trout, is roasted and seared, then topped with seasonal vegetables, smoked trout roe, and—most importantly—a prosecco beurre blanc spiked with fig oil. I know that drinking butter isn’t exactly healthy, but I wish that was an option.
While those two are fine choices, it’s these three that really had me saying “Wahnsinn!"
The pork coppa is glazed with Ricola—yes, the lozenges. It’s looked at kind of like an herbal Tic Tac up in the Alps. It’s literally advertised as 10 Swiss Alpine herbs condensed down into one, so why not use it like a bouillon cube? The result is something sweet and floral, a perfect compliment to the fattier shoulder cut, especially cut with beer-braised red cabbage and mustard seed.
If you’re truly a meat lover, I’d recommend going with the bone-in pork shank. The meat is sous vide until tender, then coated with a sauce packed with apple, tart cherry, juniper, onion, mustard, and beer vinegar and crisped up. The little caramelized crispy bits were worth the price of admission alone. The shank is plated over sauerkraut, topped with pickled shallots and fresh herbs, and finished with another drizzle of beer vinegar.
The wildest choice—the one a real alpenbewohner might pick—is the venison. The medallions are rubbed in a parsley crumb, topped with a sliver of black truffle, and then a rich, vegetal demi-glace. As good as that is on its own, it’s the vegetables that take this dish home: they’re tossed with a blackberry mustard vinaigrette and smoked with lavender. I’ve had trouble explaining how they taste—I’ve never had anything smoked with lavender before—but they are incredible on their own.
Pork Shank
I’ve only made it to dessert once, and it was just as unfamiliar and intriguing as the rest: a panna cotta made with smoked hay and spruce tips, topped with puffed wheat, candied herbal flowers, fresh flowers, and spruce powder.
Bormio is the kind of restaurant that will make you forget where you are—St. Peters!—at least for a few hours. And isn’t that exactly what you want? To be transported by flavors and smells? To go somewhere you’ve been before or, maybe even better, somewhere you didn’t even know existed?
Spruce Panna Cotta