× Expand Photo by Kevin A. Roberts Chili rubbed pork belly with sorghum coke syrup and cajun black eyed peas

Although the doors have yet to open, there’s already a lot to like about Pig & Pickle. The playfulness of the name; the pig and ampersand icon; the whimsy of the menu categories (carbs, ocean dwellers, swine and the like); an intriguing mix of menu items (pretzel-crusted cheese curds, chicken “rinds”); and the passionate, laid-back young owners who cobbled the concept together.

Carina Flesch and Ryan Lewis

Ryan Lewis owned and operated Driftwood Eatery in Springfield, Illinois, for three years before deciding to move a little closer to home (he’s originally from Bethalto, Illinois), where he feels his menu of predominantly small plates will be better appreciated.

“Springfield is a tough place for independent restaurants," says the chef. “St. Louis seems to be just the opposite. Here they’re appreciated, they’re embraced.”

“Even the idea of small plates was a tough sell,” adds Carina Flesch, his partner and front-of-the-house manager. "Besides Driftwood, there were no other small-plates places in Springfield, so servers found themselves explaining the concept. Here, they can explain the food, which is what we wanted in the first place.”

So when the lease at Driftwood expired, the couple set their sights on 5513 Pershing, the former site of Atlas, regarded by many as a quintessential neighborhood restaurant. (Sauce Magazine was the first to break news of the location.) “Literally every person who’s stuck their head through the door mentions how much they loved, loved Atlas,” Flesch says, “but also how much they’re looking forward to what we’re doing. The customers are there. So far, so good.”

× Expand Photo by Kevin A. Roberts

Photo by Kevin A. Roberts

What passers-by see through the expanse of windows is a 42-seat restaurant with a seven-seat bar, similar to Atlas. The former carpet was retired, yielding to its concrete underlay. The combination of hanging Edison bulbs and candlelit tables casts a welcoming glow. (“I’m a big fan of dimly lit restaurants,” admits Lewis.) The décor is simple, and the walls are painted a muted orange (“and only 40 tries to get the color right,” adds Flesch). And there are no TVs. “At Driftwood, we turned them on twice,” Flesch recalls, “once for the election and once for the World Series. If there’s a must-see event, we can always bring in a TV or two.”

Behind the bar are homages to Lewis’ past: accents of barnwood, favorite cookbooks, and several pieces of twisty driftwood. “The backbar will look a lot more complete with liquor bottles,” Lewis observes, referring to one of the few stumbling blocks in putting the restaurant together. Many of the neighbors are renters and/or unregistered voters, he adds, and, as such, are not qualified to sign the restaurant’s liquor license petition, so that component has been delayed.

× Expand Photo by Kevin A. Roberts

In the meantime, the couple is assembling the 35-to-40-item cocktail list, predominantly “multiple-component, multiple-process, Prohibition-style cocktails,” according to Flesch. “Driftwood had a 75-drink menu,” she adds, “which was a big part of the experience and the revenue,” so the couple is anxious to secure the license. Of the four beer tap handles, one will be dedicated to Destihl, a Bloomington, Illinois-based microbrewery and a long-time favorite of Lewis and Flesch. In the meantime, a menu of mocktails will be served, along with lemonade and sodas from Excel, headquartered in Breese, Illinois.

Lewis says that it’s taken some time, but culinarily he feels he’s hit the sweet spot between “fine dining and familiar home cooking,” adding that the menu at the Southern-inspired small plates restaurant will be “more refined” than at Driftwood, but several items “need no refinement and will remain exactly the same"—like the cheese curds, which became a signature dish, “whether I liked it or not,” says Lewis. He describes the method: “Before frying, we bread them in pretzel crumbs, lightly toss in a mustard barbecue sauce, and serve with a homemade herb buttermilk sauce.”

Photo by Kevin A. Roberts Photo by Kevin A. Roberts Photo by Kevin A. Roberts Photo by Kevin A. Roberts

Another signature item is the chicken and biscuit (a black-pepper biscuit shingled with a fried Amish chicken breast, smothered in hot sauce, buttermilk gravy, with house-pickled cucumbers on top). “My weight gain since we’ve been together is directly attributable to that one item,” jokes Flesch.

× Expand Photo by Kevin A. Roberts

There’s even a hamburger on the menu, a first for Lewis, who, like many other chefs, would just as soon avoid the staple. “Now we will add seasonal and maybe unusual touches to it,” he says. “But you can always order it without all of that.” What you won’t find is ketchup, says the chef, who’s very proud of his homemade sauces. “The potatoes are confited, smashed, crisp-fried fingerlings, that we serve with a jalapeño apple butter,” he says. “No need for ketchup.”

Photo by Kevin A. Roberts

The sauce for the fried shrimp and chips is an aioli seasoned with Old Bay. “You usually see Old Bay it as a direct seasoning or in a boil, not as a sauce component,” notes Lewis. Brussels sprouts are served with a Nashville hot aioli, “fried country morsels” (read: chicken breading), and a squeeze of honey.

One of the more intriguing dishes is the Asian-inspired squid, stuffed with shrimp and cooked cabbage, that’s then baked and sliced (an homage to the spring roll that the chef scribbled down while on a plane). Then there’s charred octopus—a dish as Mediterranean as it is Southern—with lemon zest, chili oil, and lime vinaigrette.

Lewis says that in St. Louis, he feels like “a medium fish in a medium-sized pond,” and that the pond here is growing, which will keep him motivated. “I really feel we’ve got the right formula to follow in Atlas’ footsteps.”

Regarding the name, Flesch said that Driftwood Eatery described neither the concept nor the cuisine, so that was out. “Pork is his favorite thing,” she says, gesturing to the tattoo of a pig on his arm, “and in Springfield, he tended to pickle anything and everything.” On a road trip one day, I threw out Pig & Pickle. We both nodded, and that was that.”

Pig & Pickle opens officially September 29, with soft openings beginning as early as this week. Dinner service runs Tuesday through Saturday from 4:30–10 p.m., with weekend brunch commencing in a few weeks.