Before the rows of black-and-white portraits held court over Deli Divine (5501 Delmar Boulevard, 314-987-3354) from their framed positions on the walls, they lived in forgotten bankers boxes belonging to a late family friend of Ben Poremba named Joe Zimbrolt. Rescued by Poremba from an estate sale where they were likely bound for someone's basement (or the garbage), the portraits were part of Zimbrolt's life's work — not his professional work but the effort he dedicated to living a well-examined life dedicated to art, literature, science and the humanities.
And before they were part of Zimbrolt's life's work, the portraits were people: a mix of intellectuals, artists, writers and everyday folks who Zimbrolt encountered during his time on this earth — the kind of folks you'd meet at the corner Jewish deli who, bound by cultural identity, taste preferences and geography, would each pick a particular neighborhood spot as their special place to frequent daily. Together, their presences would animate the space and create a distinct personality that made the deli a case study in humanity rather than a mere place to grab a bite to eat. Every deli has this culture. It's what makes them such a unique part of the fabric of American cuisine, and it's what Poremba has deftly brought to life at the marvelous Deli Divine.
These photos create a striking aesthetic, but even more, they point to what Poremba is trying to create with his West End neighborhood restaurant and market. At this point in his career, it's clear that Poremba is not just a chef or restaurateur, but a storyteller unrivaled in his ability to create immersive worlds that transport guests to different locations and times through flavor and design. Olio is a ticket to the eastern Mediterranean; Nixta to Mexico and the American Mediterranean. The Benevolent King is a window into his mother's home country, Morocco, and Bar Moro is an immersive jaunt to Spain.
Add to that impressive list Poremba's latest effort, Deli Divine, which opened this past May in the mixed-use nonprofit hub and residential building Delmar Divine. Here, Poremba brings to life the Jewish-American deli, both as an amenity to the St. Louis community, which has been shockingly lacking in such a place, and as a way to explore his own heritage. He has always been taken by the Moroccan part of his identity, with all of its vibrant culinary delights, but he admits he was less enthused with the food of his father's Ashkenazi side, viewing the traditional dishes cooked by his Holocaust-survivor grandmother as bland and unappealing.
Over time, Poremba came to appreciate this unique culinary tradition as both a source of nostalgia and comfort and an important part of America's food story. In his mind, there was no better representation of this tradition — other than a grandmother's kitchen — than the quintessential New York Jewish-American deli; he was shocked that St. Louis city was so glaringly lacking in such places, and he set out to rectify that well before our town's bagel renaissance of the past year. He's been piecing together the idea for roughly five years, but it wasn't until he connected with St. Louis entrepreneur and visionary Maxine Clark on her ambitious Delmar Divine project a couple of years ago that it would finally come to fruition.
Walking into Deli Divine, however, you'd be forgiven for thinking it had been there since the site was built as St. Luke's Hospital some eight decades ago. Poremba has done a striking job of transporting guests not simply to a style of restaurant but to a moment in time — one defined by the tangerine orange, mustard yellow, salmon pink and avocado greens of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel's mid-century world. Its blue cornflower Corningware, orange Tupperware canisters and coffee percolators are so nostalgic for those of a certain age, they bring a tear to the eye.
Those joyful tears continue when you nosh on Deli Divine's wonderful bagels and accouterments. Poremba knew right away that he wanted to open a deli, not a bakery, so, like most New York Jewish delis, he outsourced his bagel-making to a Big Apple-based company that ships them to Deli Divine twice per week. These are quintessential New York boiled bagels — shiny-shelled on the outside, firm and chewy underneath, and meant to be smothered in creamy, onion-studded schmear, capers and wonderful smoked trout. Silk-textured lox is another worthy offering, though, at the suggestion of a woman behind the counter, I opted for the magnificently peppery smoked salmon pastrami, which paired perfectly with an everything bagel, plain cream cheese, sliced red onions and capers. However, the showstopper was Poremba's famous egg salad served on a malty seeded pumpernickel bagel and accented with fresh dill.
You could be satisfied with simply visiting the bagel side of Deli Divine, but then you'd miss out on its outstanding classic Jewish deli sandwiches, including the Manek, a club-style sandwich featuring perfectly caramelized turkey bacon, lettuce and tomato that's amped up by a zippy mayonnaise-based sauce. The Herta is the embodiment of Eastern European flavors, consisting of shaved beets and sauerkraut-adjacent coleslaw; Swiss cheese and tangy special sauce add to the pungent pleasure this dish provides.
Delectable brisket is the centerpiece of three of Deli Divine's most spectacular offerings. The Reuben, served on marble rye with Swiss cheese and sauerkraut, is perfection, with the brisket taking the form of wonderfully fall-apart corned beef. The other brisket masterpiece is the Frieda Poremba, a nod to Poremba's grandmother, which pairs fat-slicked, peppery thick-sliced pastrami with mouth-puckering yellow mustard on rustic rye bread for a beautifully balanced sandwich. And the Joseph Zimbrolt, one of the deli's two-meat combinations, accents lovely corned beef with rich beef salami; the cuts are piled high onto hearty rye bread and simply dressed with a bit of yellow mustard to slice through the meaty decadence.
Poremba also succeeds with dishes that embrace grandma-style comfort. Matzo ball soup pairs a delicate chicken broth with a plump, semi-firm mandarin-orange-sized dumpling for an offering that seems as if it could cure all that ails you. Chicken salad, too, excels in its simplicity. Unlike many gourmet versions that dress up the dish with nuts, fruits and cheeses, this one is adorned with only white onion, celery, seasoning and a generous amount of mayonnaise for a shockingly creamy texture. It's on course to dethrone the city's reigning chicken salad gold standard.
Perhaps Deli Divine's most soulful dish is the noodle kugel, an offering so steeped in family tradition, everyone whose grandmother has ever made it feels as if they have ownership of the form. Deli Divine's kugel is Poremba's grandmother's recipe, a delectable layered casserole that is as eggy as a souffle throughout, crispy from the baked noodles on top and very subtly sweet. Poremba has received too much feedback on his kugel — emails, texts and phone calls telling him it's either too sweet or not sweet enough. Some say the texture is off; some tell him it's so spot-on it brings them back to their childhood.
These are the sort of arguments you can imagine the folks in the portraits having any given morning at their corner deli — where the sweetness of your kugel, the herbs you put in your chicken stock or the firmness of your matzo balls feel like the world's hottest, most controversial topics. That Poremba has invited that banter means he's not simply running a restaurant. He's creating a community — the part of deli culture infinitely more vital than anything you eat.
Open Mon.-Sun. 8 a.m.-3 p.m.
Related
Subscribe to Riverfront Times newsletters. Follow us: Apple News | Google News | NewsBreak | Reddit | Instagram | Facebook | Twitter | Or sign up for our RSS Feed
