Eat The Menu: New Star on Selby

Aubergine had been a gleam in the eyes of industry pros Megan and Bjorn Jacobse for, like, forever, fueled by pop-ups here and there. After many a “Wait for it … it’s coming!” email to fervent foodies, it’s finally open, ready to put St. Paul’s Selby Avenue back on the food map where, decades ago, it reigned.

First off, it’s pretty. The couple resuscitated a storefront previously occupied by Revival, I’m told. Its airy, two-room interior (one with fleeting view of the busy kitchen) is brushed with tones of black and cream, accented by low café curtains shielding diners from Selby’s passing parade. Well-spaced tables stand ready to serve 44 diners. On the night of our dinner, tables didn’t turn; guests were welcome to linger for hours. Good thing because, during the soft opening, service proved funereally slow. (I’m counting on them to pick up the pace as routines evolve.)

The 14-item menu ($15 for a green salad to $70 for the lamb mixed grill, which we viewed on an adjoining table) speaks with a decided French accent, recalling the bustling, informal bistros lining a Parisian sidewalk. Start, perhaps, with the appetizer sampler ($21, meant for sharing) starring a sliver of rich roasted marrow forked from within its sturdy bone. It’s accompanied by a mound of beef tartare that’s robust and sweet, plus an oeuf en gelée, which translates to a hard-boiled egg encased in meaty-flavored gelatin. (Q: Why do the French consider this interesting?) It’s presented with slices of rich brioche on which to spread the lusty tartare, which proved to be the tastiest member of this starter trio.

Would I order it again? Well, probably not. I’d move on to the pâte en croûte, saluting bits of pork, pistachios and white sausage bound in a pastry crust. Or the walleye dauphine, which, our server explained, presents the sweet fish flaked in a croquette. Or the chicken wings farci, which means somebody has gone to the trouble of stuffing them with a dice of chicken heart, liver and bits of mache lettuce. (Waste not, want not: good kitchen motto.)

Instead, we summoned the grilled leeks, where cross sections of the lusty fibrous veg are grilled (but presented cold, alas) and still somewhat hard to chew. They’re accented by a lovely, sweet/savory mound of blue cheese along with maitake mushrooms that wandered onto the plate. (Why? They’re not particularly appealing served cold, either.)

Next, another dish from the outfield: oysters, tiny but sweet and juicy, baked atop their shell, then served with little, bitty creampuffs filled with a pungent smoked whitefish dip and a deep-green lovage/nettle butter. I suspect folks will either adore this combo or wonder, “What were they thinking?”

The same goes for the foie gras torchon. As readers may remember, I love-love-love foie gras whenever, wherever, but please do take care to present it with a well-thought-out partner (I favor it with rhubarb, for instance). Here, it comes, fine-textured and bursting with savory liver-y flavor, alongside pain russe, which translates, in my opinion, to the likes of a breakfast Danish — no, no, no! — set in a pool of sweet carrot puree touched up with maple. Back to the drawing board.

We were prepared to continue with an order of beet tartare tatin, served with burnt honey and sheep’s cheese ($28). But, as can happen during opening-night flurries, the kitchen lost our order. A dessert fruit tart sounded good, but by now we’d been seated for over two hours and were ready to call it a night. I sipped the last of my wine (BTG $10-30) and headed out into the sunset over Selby, glad to be back in St. Paul in such a pleasant setting. Give the kitchen a minute or two to get its rhythm and sort out the winners from the also-rans on the menu, and I’ll eagerly return. Maybe by then there’ll be aubergine on the menu, too?

525 Selby Avenue, St. Paul
(651) 242-1362
restaurantaubergine.com