Silas St. John: Unusual Restaurant Looks to Past

San Diego’s newest major restaurant is, well, rather startling.

The allures of Silas St. John are so unexpected, in fact, that any casual diner who wanders into the place may feel a sensation akin to that experienced by the first man who, hungrily cracking open an oyster, found a pearl garnishing his meal.

For starters, this restaurant is in Kensington, a quiet residential neighborhood situated far from the city’s established restaurant rows. Until now, this neighborhood has not boasted a single eatery capable of attracting a countywide clientele.

And then there is the team that put Silas St. John together. The owner, Dr. Ronald Ridgway, is a North Park veterinarian. He installed his son, Derek, as sous-chef; this young man served as chef at the Salmon House, and spent the last year assembling menus for this restaurant. Chef Ron Nugent has cooked at Ciao Bella, Papagayo and Horizon, acceptable establishments all, but none of them noted for scaling any serious gastronomic heights. Manager-maitre d’hotel Mike McGeath managed Papagayo for several years. Despite its lack of affiliation with any really grand restaurants, however, this group has managed to put together a striking menu and a very attractive dining-out package.

It also is a very unusual package. Silas St. John is not merely physically removed from the scene; in ambiance, at least as defined by mood and decor, it is as remote from contemporary restaurant trends as Kensington Drive is from La Jolla’s Prospect Street.

The mood looks deliberately to the past, and makes a conscious effort to capture the tone of the early part of the century. The service, for example, is gracious, reserved and unhurried, reflecting the approach taken in an age in which dinner was the highlight of the average day. And the servers dress in period attire, which frankly seems a little stagey but does fit in with the restaurant’s theme.

These links to the past arise from the simple fact of the restaurant’s premises. Silas St. John occupies an old clapboard house, built in 1910, which has been designated Historical Site No. 170 by the San Diego Historical Society. Among its first occupants was a retired Butterfield-Wells Fargo stagecoach driver named Silas St. John, who bought the property in 1914 and lived there until his death in 1919.

Ridgway added space to the original attic, which now houses a number of tables, including a romantically secluded table for two that the staff has christened the “passion pit.” The ground floor dining rooms probably are the most comfortable, though; none holds more than two or three tables, and the furnishings and lighting do give them something of a turn-of-the-century atmosphere.

The basement, neatly restored as a first-class wine cellar, also doubles as a reception area for newly arrived guests. McGeath escorts them down and offers each a glass of champagne; the guests can use the time they spend here to examine the 12,000 bottles of wine (the selection includes more than 350 vintages) or to study the menu.

The menu is somewhat daring in concept, not because of the dishes offered, but because it presents a five-course banquet that, depending on the entree chosen, costs $33 to $39. Few San Diego restaurants dare to charge such prices, but it must be said that Silas St. John gives value for money spent.

Although the menu changes weekly, it generally includes six entrees. The guest designs his dinner by selecting the entree he finds most attractive and then choosing the appetizer, soup and salad he believes would best precede it. A separate dessert menu is presented later. The idea of a five-course meal may sound rather daunting, but the portions are sized to allow room for the following courses.

Chefs Nugent and Ridgway do a fine job with the cooking. The menu sampled on a recent visit was decidedly influenced by the cuisine of Southwestern France, a region of hearty but refined cooking that lately has become popular in international gourmet circles. The kitchen executed these demanding dishes well.

The appetizer of confit of duck, for example, featured beautifully moist segments of meat arranged near a pile of red cabbage and greens, correctly moistened with walnut oil and authentically flavored with rendered duck cracklings; this fine dish could be thought of as French soul food. Other appetizers were more formal, among them a plate of broiled oysters topped with peppery shredded watercress and an unusually tart hollandaise, and ravioli stuffed with earthy wild mushrooms; these fragrant mouthfuls were cloaked with cream and grated cheese and set to bubbling in the oven.

The soup choices included mushrooms and leeks cooked in cream, and a wonderfully robust broth filled with chunks of roasted red pepper and sweet crayfish tails. This last was as delightful as it was different.

The salads received as much attention as the other courses. One, of Belgian endive and other greens, mated a garnish of Japanese shiitake mushrooms with a sweetened dressing based on sesame oil; the other, of vine-ripened tomatoes alternated with half moons of mozarella cheese, was arranged over a bed of rich, aromatic pesto (a paste of basil, garlic, Parmesan cheese and other elements).

A certain simplicity or lack of fussiness characterized the entrees. A pan roasted breast of duck, carved into rosy slices and spread out like a fan, was finished with a demi-glace seasoned with green peppercorns. A sauce of reduced Zinfandel, thickened with Roquefort cheese, moistened a mesquite grilled filet of beef; the shadings of flavor in this dish were superb, if not quite the equal of the Merlot- and Stilton cheese-sauced filet served by Gustaf Anders.

Perhaps the most interesting of the entrees was the mesquite grilled rabbit served in a sauce of Cabernet Sauvignon enriched with a puree of figs. The fruit emphasized the delicate but distinct flavor of the meat, while the wine added a touch of luxury. The meat, tiny segments of tenderloin arranged around a nicely crisped leg, was savory, and as tender as butter.

A melange of tiny squash, rough-hewn carrots and slender haricots verts (baby string beans) shared the role of garnish with small, exceedingly tasty cakes of crisped potato baked with a filling of creamed onion.

The waiter described a dessert of cream puff pastry filled with berries, Cointreau-scented whipped cream and chocolate sauce as “decadence on a plate,” which seemed apt enough. Also excellent were the fresh peach sherbet and rich chocolate Amaretto cake.

Silas St. John.

4720 Kensington Drive, San Diego

Reservations suggested, 283-8343

Guests seated 5:30 to 9 p.m., Wednesday through Monday; closed Tuesdays

Credit cards accepted.

Dinner for two, including a moderate bottle of wine, tax and tip, $100 to $130.