Photos by Evie Carpenter
Grade: B
St. Francis is one of three comfortable, trendy restaurants near Camelback Road and Central Avenue, all of which are similarly brick-walled and dimly lit. While its food is not the best in the area, it is creative and satisfying, and St. Francis has the most intriguing atmosphere of the three.
Postino and Windsor — along with Windsor’s neighbor Churn, an ice cream shop, are a family of restaurants with one owner, so their similarities are not surprising. Though, when customers enter St. Francis the outdoor bars and stylish designs seem like a geographical trend.
The first thing I noticed after entering St. Francis was a single-level shelf on the right wall holding a collection of old books that ran the length of the entrance room. It seemed like someone lived there.
The restaurant was remarkably busy for a Sunday night, so my friends and I took a seat at the bar, which is half inside and half outside. A heavily tattooed bartender with a backwards Detroit Tigers hat took orders from patrons from both sides of the bar as misters sprayed cool water on the outside half.
Behind us was the balcony from the second floor. The two-story architecture made St. Francis seem even more like a house I’d like to live in.
After a 15-minute wait, we were seated by a window with a view of a large painting of something I couldn’t make out.
We started with the baked goat cheese on toasted bread for an appetizer. The goat cheese came in a small bowl, with pesto mixed in and a layer of tomato on the bottom. The pesto and goat cheese went well together, and the slightly sweet tomato ensured that the taste wasn’t too bitter.
I ordered the French onion hamburger for my entrée. The bread was pillow-soft, and it came topped with bacon that was crispy and not too greasy. The beef was less juicy than I had hoped, and it was topped a little too heavily with strong gruyére cheese. But the meal was good enough to satisfy the cravings of even a picky burger lover. It was huge, too. I’m a voracious eater by most people’s standards, and I only made it through two-thirds of the burger.
A heavy side serving of fingerling potatoes probably also contributed to my inability to clean my plate. Topped with rosemary, sage and lemon aioli, these small, oblong potatoes are filling, and they tasted better than most French fries. They came with “Mexican ketchup,” according to the menu, and although I don’t know which ingredients define the citizenship of condiments, I noticed the ketchup was a bit spicy.
One of my friends ordered the day’s special, flatbread topped with white cheddar and mozzarella cheeses, a fig spread with sliced figs, leeks, dollops of bleu cheese and arugula. I tried a square of the entrée, which tasted sweet enough to double as a dessert. The next time I go to St. Francis, I’ll try the special.
My other friend ordered the meatballs, which came with a Moroccan spice that tasted like chili. It was a creative take on meatballs and had more flavor than most recipes. It was also cooked just right in a brick oven — dark on the outside with a smoky flavor.
The people sitting behind me ordered a “cheesecake in a jar,” which looked delicious. I wanted to try it but was so full that it was impossible. St. Francis serves heavy food, and I let out a satisfied sigh after the meal.
St. Francis’s food is not quite as good as at the nearby Postino, but the atmosphere is more interesting than any other restaurant near Camelback.
Contact the reporter at john.l.fitzpatrick@asu.edu
