4 minute read

YUCATÁN PLATE

Alex Henry is making Mexican food – his way

Tucked inside the constant hum and movement of City Foundry STL’s food hall, Alex Henry is doing something spectacular in his 500-square-foot kitchen – though you might not have noticed. It’s obvious that others have, however – because once you eat something from Sureste Mexican, you talk about it. You post photos, and dozens of micro-conversations ensue –all of them about how Henry is making some of the best food in St. Louis out of one of the tiniest spaces around. He’s highly acclaimed and under the radar at the same time, bringing the food of the Yucatán Peninsula – the food of his childhood – to St. Louis, all while challenging the idea that food from a country as large as Mexico can be confined to a set of commonly known dishes.

In Spanish, Sureste means “southeast,” which is a nod to the Yucatán peninsula in the southeastern region of Mexico – Henry’s native country. Even a er his family moved to Missouri, Henry spent summers and holidays in Mérida, Yucatán, periodically wandering through the vast open-air Lucas de Galvez Market with his abuelita, who sold clothing there. As a teenager, the self-described picky eater fell in love with food, which ultimately led him to culinary school and jobs at some of the best restaurants in the area. Chef Rob Uyemura instilled in him the importance of farm-to-table cooking and seasonality during his time at YiaYia’s in Chesterfield – a philosophy that was reinforced while working at Brasserie, Taste and Vicia and solidified during his stints as executive chef at both Nixta and Cleveland-Heath. When the pandemic hit, Henry decided to find his own path and opened Sureste inside City Foundry STL in 2021.

Although industry heavy-hi ers and dedicated repeat customers sing his praises, his cuisine is relatively unknown to a larger audience. With Sureste, Henry is delivering unfamiliar dishes with unfamiliar names. This is Yucateco cuisine, and it’s uncharted territory for many

St. Louisans. Mayan and Spanish influence is significant, with French, Dutch and Lebanese notes leaving their mark on the local cuisine. This is reflected in the popularity of Edam cheese (a semi-hard cheese from the Netherlands) and Lebanese street food. Although it can be spicy, the cuisine is more about powerful flavor built on recados – pastes made from chiles, fresh herbs, spices and sweet and sour citrus – designed to give backbone to the dishes. Sopa de Lima, a classic soup made with either chicken or turkey, uses a recado for its base flavor, while sweet limes add freshness. Cochinita pibil, a whole pig wrapped in banana leaves and slowcooked in a pit underground, is all depth, rubbed with an achiote-based recado. Habaneros bring fiery intensity to salsas, and sour orange juice lends an entirely different profile to pickled red onions. These are familiar ingredients whirled together in unexpected ways, pulling from ancient and modern techniques all at once.

“What people seem to expect as Mexican cuisine is more like what you’d find on the U.S.-Mexico border, or from Texas, like TexMex,” Henry says. He notes that one of the signature elements of Yucateco cuisine is a reliance on fresh fruit, vegetables and produce versus the dry goods prevalent in border cuisine.

Seasonality dominates the menu at Sureste, built to accommodate the natural rotation in Yucateco cuisine. Roasted fish tacos and ceviche are popular in the warmer months; warming soups and heartier fare take their place in the winter. Pork and turkey are woven throughout the menu alongside a bounty of fresh vegetables prepared in a myriad of ways to complement the proteins. Turkey – a staple in the 45712Yucatán – was a tough sell to customers at first, Henry notes: likely a result of one too many overcooked Thanksgiving feasts. In his expert hands, however, the bird is succulent, tender and, now, one of the most popular items on the menu.

But seasonality has its struggles: It can mean a constant stream of good ideas that don’t always see daylight. This year, he didn’t get to make elotes pibinales, a dish for which corn, in its milk stage, is roasted slowly in underground pits over smoldering stones and wild leaves, emerging deeply browned and sweeter than sweet. “It’s so good,” he says, “but that’s an example of something that would have a very short season here – like two weeks, maybe.” He’ll try again next year, but he does o en manage to capture lightning in a bo le. At press time, Henry had tamales de espelon on the menu, a beautiful dish made from fresh crowder peas, sourced locally and nearly identical to the cowpeas of Yucatán. The legume changes the texture and flavor of the tamale, but it too will be gone in a ma er of weeks. For some, this would be problematic; for Henry, it means he’ll think of something else based on what’s at its peak.

Even the cuisine’s foundational ingredient, corn, is selected with utmost care and chosen from locally grown and milled varietals perfectly suited to their task. A flint corn works its magic in fried masa dishes, resulting in a pronounced corn flavor and a strong crispiness, while two types of so -starch dent corn are made into Sureste’s otherworldly tortillas – so tender and yielding that they mimic flour-based ones. Tortillas are a burgeoning side business of Henry’s; he currently supplies tortillas to a handful of restaurants in the area, and that business is growing steadily. This growth is limited to the confines of 500 square feet, so he’s currently looking for the right commercial space to meet demand for the product. As a corn-based restaurant, Sureste is also a dedicated gluten-free space, providing a safe kitchen for guests who might have restrictions.

Henry says he’s stubborn, and that may be true. But behind that stubbornness is a desire to bring awareness of his culture to anyone who will stop by to try it. It’s his confidence that drives Sureste: an unflinching rotation of Yucateco cuisine designed not to assimilate but to stand out. He’s played with how the menu items are presented to make people stop and look, and he’s still learning the dynamics of the crowds that show up. However, in just over a year, he’s generated a dedicated following of fans and regulars who o en return several times per week for his food. Where does he go from here? It’s too soon to say. He likes it here, so – much like he approaches his dishes –he’ll wait until something special is available, and then he’ll create something fully his own.