When the Clydesdales Came Trotting In
Inside The Clydesdale’s Grand Opening, where Kevin Nashan’s food, exceptional hospitality and a very St. Louis arrival made two guests feel like true VIPs
by Grayling Holmes and Megan Holmes-Govier
There are restaurant openings.
And then there are restaurant openings where the Budweiser Clydesdales come trotting down Clark Avenue with a police escort.
My daughter, Megan Holmes-Govier, and I knew we were headed somewhere special before we ever walked through the doors of The Clydesdale, James Beard Award-winning Chef Kevin Nashan’s highly anticipated new upscale American tavern at Ballpark Village.
We had been graciously invited by my good friend and colleague James “Jimmy” Lesch of Patton & Co. to attend the invitation-only VIP reception on Thursday, August 27, just before The Clydesdale officially opened its doors to the public.
As Megan and I turned the corner from Clark Street near Ballpark Village, suddenly there they were.
The Clydesdales.
Not photographs of them.
Not replicas.
The real, grand and glorious Budweiser Clydesdales, escorted into the festivities as only these St. Louis icons should be.
The magnificent horses moved in unison, their white facial markings and signature feathered lower legs unmistakable as they made their stately entrance. They were there to ceremoniously deliver cases of beer and help launch a restaurant bearing their legendary name.
For a restaurant designed to be “unmistakably St. Louis,” it was difficult to imagine a more perfect beginning.
And for Megan, it was magical.
A Father-Daughter Night Out
Megan is my 41-year-old daughter, and she has never been one to allow physical limitations to dictate where she goes or what she experiences. She uses a cane, and navigating a crowded event can sometimes require a little more patience and consideration.
But she wanted to see the Clydesdales.
And she most definitely wanted to see The Clydesdale.
Megan Holmes-Govier with father Grayling Holmes
So off we went.
We made our way through the interior of Ballpark Village, where the familiar energy was already building. Sports jerseys were everywhere. Music was blaring. Crowds were gathering. It was lively, loud and unmistakably Ballpark Village.
Then we turned the corner, checked in at the VIP entrance and stepped into what seemed like another world.
The difference was immediate.
Warm wood paneling. Hunter green accents. Polished details. A sophisticated tavern atmosphere that felt clubby without feeling stuffy.
And hospitality.
Lots and lots of hospitality.
Within moments, Megan turned to me and said something that stayed with me for the rest of the evening.
“Daddy, I really feel special here.”
Then she explained why.
“They are treating me so well and tending to my every need.”
That, to me, is hospitality.
I attend many events in St. Louis. The word “VIP” appears on countless invitations, wristbands and reception signs. But there are evenings when VIP describes where you are allowed to stand, and there are evenings when it describes how people make you feel.
At The Clydesdale, we felt like VIPs.
Service Begins at the Door
Servers greeted arriving guests with trays of signature cocktails, including a lemon-forward martini creation that immediately caught our attention.
Megan remembered the clever name of the drinks better than I did. At almost 68, I confess that by the time I took my first sip, the name had escaped me.
The drink itself had not.
Delicious.
Megan agreed.
Another guest sampled one and decided it was a little too sweet for her taste. Almost immediately, a member of the staff appeared.
No fuss.
No hesitation.
No hint that the guest had somehow inconvenienced anyone.
The server simply offered to have the bartender prepare a traditional martini instead.
That tiny interaction told us a great deal about the restaurant.
Exceptional hospitality isn't simply anticipating what everyone wants.
It is noticing when someone wants something different—and graciously making it happen.
That attitude seemed to permeate the evening.
Kevin Nashan Delicious
Earlier that afternoon, as I was getting dressed, my phone rang.
It was Craig Kaminer, publisher of Sophisticated Living St. Louis.
When Craig asked what I was doing that evening, I told him Megan and I were preparing for the VIP preview of The Clydesdale.
His response was immediate.
“Oh, the Kevin Nashan place.”
Then came his prediction: anything Nashan touches is first-rate. We were in for a treat.
Craig certainly knew the chef's pedigree.
Nashan is one of St. Louis' most acclaimed culinary talents and the recipient of the 2017 James Beard Award for Best Chef: Midwest for his work at Sidney Street Café. His résumé includes training in extraordinary kitchens around the world, from Restaurant Daniel in New York and Commander's Palace in New Orleans to Martín Berasategui in Spain, along with stages at El Bulli and Georges Blanc.
Keven Nashan (center) and Head Chef Matt Duffin receive cases of ice cold Budweiser beer delivered fresh by the Clydesdale horses themselves.
Yet The Clydesdale isn't trying to be an intimidating temple of haute cuisine.
Quite the opposite.
Nashan has described it as the kind of restaurant St. Louisans can make part of their routine—a place for a burger before the game, dinner with friends, a business lunch, date night or simply a cocktail.
The brilliance is in taking foods people already love and treating them with the seriousness of a James Beard Award-winning chef.
We discovered that almost immediately.
Servers circulated throughout the reception carrying an abundance of beautiful bites. The restaurant's menu is rooted in elevated American tavern fare, with a seafood raw bar featuring oysters, caviar and jumbo shrimp among its signatures. The Crown Tower brings those indulgences together in one dramatic presentation.
Then there are house-made pastas, Steak Frites with beef-tallow fries and Clyde's Burger, an eight-ounce Wagyu-blend burger served with house-made Thousand Island sauce.
Megan, however, had her eye on the sliders being passed around the room.
She wanted one.
The staff made sure she got one.
A fresh tray appeared, and we each took a slider.
Oh. My. Goodness.
Megan sampling one of the Wagyu-blend burger sliders.
This was exactly what Craig had promised.
Kevin Nashan delicious.
Elevated, yes.
But still approachable.
Food that impresses you without making you work too hard to understand why you like it.
A Patio, a Cocktail and Some Very Famous Horses
Eventually, Megan and I made our way outside onto the patio facing Busch Stadium.
The energy changed again.
The Clydesdales were waiting.
Guests in summer cocktail attire circulated with drinks in hand, phones came out almost simultaneously, and selfies became practically mandatory. Some guests moved closer for a more personal look at the horses while others were content simply to stand back and admire them.
And they are magnificent.
Clydesdales deliver cases of cold Budweiser beer fresh from the brewery.
No matter how many times you've seen the Budweiser Clydesdales in photographs, commercials or parades, there is something extraordinary about standing just feet away from them.
Their scale.
Their composure.
Their beauty.
Against the backdrop of Busch Stadium and Ballpark Village, the moment could hardly have been more St. Louis.
Here we were celebrating a new restaurant named The Clydesdale, inside the Budweiser Brew House building, steps from the home of the Cardinals, while actual Clydesdales stood outside.
You couldn't manufacture a more appropriate sense of place.
Megan sigs a signature lemon martini while watching the pageantry of Clydesdales horses at the VIP Grand Opening Reception.
After taking it all in, Megan and I headed back inside and found a comfortable table near the bar.
I ordered a gin martini.
The bartender began naming premium gin options until I settled on Hendrick's.
Naturally.
Megan continued keeping an eye on the food.
Naturally.
And the servers continued looking after us.
“He Stepped in That Food”
As I write this, I find myself thinking about my mother.
Today would have been her 90th birthday.
Had she been sitting at The Clydesdale with Megan and me, tasting Nashan's food, I know exactly what she would have said.
My mother was from Missouri, and she had a particular Southern expression reserved for a cook who had done something exceptionally well.
“He stepped in that food.”
There was no greater culinary compliment.
It meant the food wasn't merely good.
It was good.
The kind of food that makes you stop talking for a moment after the first bite.
The kind that makes you reach for another.
The kind that tastes familiar yet somehow better than you remember familiar food tasting.
Mr. Nashan, consider yourself complimented.
You stepped in that food.
The Newest Gathering Place on Clark Avenue
The Clydesdale occupies approximately 5,000 square feet of indoor-outdoor space in the iconic Budweiser Brew House building on Clark Avenue, joining an increasingly impressive collection of restaurants and gathering places surrounding Busch Stadium.
The design deliberately evokes the great American tavern while giving the idea a contemporary polish. Wood, deep greens and nostalgic touches create warmth, while the menu and cocktail program elevate the experience considerably beyond standard game-day fare.
And that may prove to be The Clydesdale's sweet spot.
You can imagine coming here dressed for dinner.
You can also imagine coming before a Cardinals game.
You can bring clients for lunch, meet friends for happy hour, celebrate a birthday, linger over brunch or stop in after a concert.
Nashan has created a restaurant that belongs at Ballpark Village without feeling confined by Ballpark Village.
That's an important distinction.
What Luxury Hospitality Really Means
For Sophisticated Living readers, we spend a great deal of time talking about luxury.
Luxury homes.
Luxury automobiles.
Luxury travel.
Fine wines, beautiful clothes and extraordinary restaurants.
Grayling enjoying a gin martin and cornbread fritter hors d’oeuvre with sweet mustard sauce.
But Megan reminded me that evening that perhaps one of the greatest luxuries of all is simply being made to feel genuinely welcome.
She noticed it immediately.
Megan holding her cane to the left and anchored by her dad to the right, enjoying the festivities at the as folks enjoy the Clydesdale VIP reception.
The servers saw a woman walking with a cane and responded not with awkwardness or indifference, but with attentiveness and grace. They helped when help was useful. They made sure she could enjoy the food she wanted. They treated her not as a problem to accommodate but as a guest they were genuinely happy to have.
And she felt it.
So did I.
That is the kind of service no menu description can adequately capture.
The Clydesdales may have delivered the beer.
Kevin Nashan certainly delivered the food.
But the staff delivered something equally memorable: hospitality.
By the time The Clydesdale opened to the public later that evening, Megan and I had eaten extraordinarily well, enjoyed a few very good cocktails, admired some of the most famous horses in America and experienced a new St. Louis restaurant at its celebratory best.
Most importantly, we had shared another father-daughter adventure.
As we left, I thought again about Megan's words from earlier in the evening.
“Daddy, I really feel special here.”
For a restaurant on its very first night, I cannot imagine a better review.
Thank you, Jimmy, for inviting us.
And welcome to St. Louis, The Clydesdale.
You certainly know how to make an entrance.