On a curve of the San Antonio River, one level above the River Walk, Bruce Auden reflects beside a window table.
Time moves like the early spring water below. Slowly. Memories shift, details conflate. Has it been that long?
In March 2000, Auden opened Biga on the Banks, an upscale progression in San Antonio’s culinary evolution. An inventive menu offered stunning creations. Filo-wrapped sea bass on mustard-braised leeks dazzled palates. Sticky toffee pudding burst with British-inspired flavor. Within six months, Gourmet magazine had ranked Biga the fifth best restaurant in Texas.
Auden was not a restaurateur enchanted with acclaim. Nor is he now. Yet here he is, the most decorated chef in South Texas, a man regarded as the godfather of San Antonio fine dining. A quarter century after opening Biga, he is reluctant to embrace his standing.
“I don’t like labels,” Auden said recently, during the calm before his dining room opened. “I just feel lucky I got the opportunity.”
The opportunity to which he refers came 40 years ago. It elevated Auden’s career and upended San Antonio’s reputation as a pit stop for Tex-Mex and barbecue.
Lawyer and businesswoman Virginia Van Steenberg was developing the Fairmount Hotel. In March 1985, the three-story building was moved from East Commerce, current site of the Rivercenter Mall, to its present location on South Alamo. The hotel needed a chef for its new restaurant, Polo’s.
Van Steenberg and her daughter, marketer Dru Van Steenberg, drove to Houston to recruit Auden, a London-born chef who had introduced New American cuisine to Charley’s 517, a destination restaurant in H-Town.
“We wanted Polo’s to be successful and the go-to destination for fine dining,” Dru said. “We knew by his reputation that he was a wonderful chef. But I can honestly say we didn’t really realize the impact he would have on San Antonio’s dining scene for the next 40 years.”
In the mid-80s, few San Antonio kitchens registered in culinary America. Chez Ardid, on San Pedro Avenue, and La Louisiane, on Broadway, were exceptions, featuring upscale cuisine that earned a measure of critical recognition. Another restaurant, the Red Carpet, served as a swanky gathering spot for power brokers and celebrities.
Polo’s held loftier ambitions. Auden accepted a carte blanche offer and created a culinary spectacle. On opening night, a Who’s Who of San Antonio converged inside an elegant, peach-hued dining room lit by tall, sacramental votives. A wood-burning stove baked black bean and goat cheese quesadillas. A pianist played as guests nibbled on beautifully-plated appetizers. While memories blur on the featured cuisine, Polo’s was touted for grilled blackbuck antelope, chili-revved rabbit enchiladas and squab with tamarindo, bourbon and pecan sauce.
The wine list included Merlot, Chardonnay and Cabernet Sauvignon from high-end California producers.
“It was a surrealistic night,” recalled Mark Bliss, a roundsman then, a top chef today. “Bruce had high-powered chefs there like Robert Del Grande and David Garrido. I didn’t know who they were at the time. But they had a wealth of items. It was like walking into a magic store. That first night is when I realized that’s what I wanted to do.”
The kitchen at opening included one future James Beard Award winner (Del Grande), a future James Beard nominee (Auden) and a future white tablecloth chef in Austin (Garrido). Bliss himself would emerge to lead an acclaimed Southtown hotspot that bears his name.
Auden surrounded himself with exceptional talent. The results drew glowing reviews. One San Antonio reviewer wrote, “Chef Auden definitely aims high with his food presentation, rating a perfect ‘10.’ Every plate, from salad to entree, is a work of art – not overly contrived, but with the flair of a Paul Klee painting.”
Flattering press accelerated. One year after opening, Auden’s kitchen was featured in Esquire’s “Best New Bars and Restaurants of 1987.” Impressed with the architecture, ambience and menu, especially the tea-smoked duck, a critic wrote, “Unquestionably, this is one of the most unusual places in this boomtown, and, to my mind, Polo’s is now one of the best restaurants in the state and one of the most innovative in the country.”
Media enthusiasm crescendoed in 1988 when Food & Wine named Auden to its inaugural list of America’s 12 Best New Chefs.
“Polo’s was already the go-to place in San Antonio,” Dru said. “But once Bruce got the Best New Chef accolades, it made the lines longer. We filled up the banquet room with wedding receptions. Conventioneers would come to San Antonio and use the Fairmount. One person said, ‘We want to have this hotel for the next three years.’ And they booked it and had all their parties at Polo’s with Bruce doing the food.”
San Antonio now had its first rock star chef, a 6-foot-1, exclamation point-thin culinarian whose artistry and skill packed the house. What would he cook up next? A new restaurant called Biga, located in a historic Tobin Hill home.
In 1991, the year it opened, Esquire named Biga to its list of Best Restaurants and Bars. Positive press and acclaim poured in over the next nine years.
“You get accolades,” Auden said with a shrug, ”but what do they do? They don’t give you an extra day off.”
Awards do not enlarge dining rooms, fix broken fixtures or modernize a restaurant. They do not always translate into sufficient profit margins. So Auden moved Biga to the banks of a river, into a large space once occupied by the San Antonio Library.
After settling into the International Building, Biga on the Banks became a culinary hotspot. Up to four kitchens serve guests in a main dining room with floor to ceiling windows, an upstairs room for private parties and a 2,400-square foot wraparound terrace with a sweeping view of the city.
Biga swept up business and Auden piled up awards. Seven framed certificates, all James Beard nominations for Best Chef: Southwest, hang like art on a wall near the bar. No other local chef has received more James Beard nominations.
No one seems more surprised by the recognition than Auden. He grew up in North London, the least academically successful of three siblings. With no culinary ambition, he worked in a small supermarket and drapery store before moving to the U.S. at 17. In Highland Park, Illinois, Auden took a job as a busboy at the Northmoor Country Club. He noticed young women took a liking to chefs and set his sights on the kitchen.
“I was like, ‘Wow, this is great, there’s a lot of waitresses here,’” Auden recalled. “I think I’ll just stay in this business.”
In time, he joined the kitchen at Crickets, a once legendary establishment in Chicago, and rose from cook to sous chef. Later in Dallas and Houston, Auden refined his culinary chops working with founders of the Southwestern movement, which blended Mexican, Native American and Spanish ingredients and flavors.
From these influences, Auden launched a culinary revolution in San Antonio. The city does not yet rank with New York, Chicago or New Orleans as a national food destination. San Antonio has but one Michelin star restaurant (Mixtli) and zero James Beard award winners. Yet, the city’s culinary profile is expanding, and not by a little. San Antonio has more recognized kitchens and chefs than ever.
The renaissance began with Auden. From his kitchens came exotic dishes and flavors and a litany of cooks who developed into leading chefs. Mark Bliss is one of them.
“Bruce was very innovative,” Bliss said. “He brought in techniques and ideas nobody had ever seen before. He helped set new standards across the board. He made it possible for others to do things, like myself and Mixtli’s. He opened the door for us to be successful.”
Chef Steven McHugh offers a story. When he arrived in San Antonio 15 years ago, Auden invited him to events. Introductions were made, advice freely offered and received. At Cured, McHugh found a sweet spot, earning six James Beard nominations for Best Chef: Southwest. He dined at Biga not infrequently.
“I feel lucky to have eaten at Biga on the Banks dozens of times over the years,” McHugh said. “I love the vibrant, global perspective of food that is reflected on the menu. Bruce is really a man of the world and his food is truly transportive.”
Auden does not take praise well. Compliments, however measured, can elicit a twitch of discomfort. At the same time, he understands that acclaim draws business, and without customers, what would he do? Auden likes to say he started cooking because he wasn’t good at anything else.
So here comes a culinary paradox: On April 22, Biga will celebrate its 25th anniversary with an event to benefit the San Antonio Food Bank and St. Philip’s College Culinary and Hospitality School. Auden doesn’t want a big deal made of his legacy but he does want people to buy tickets (starting at $175 for individuals) to support two of his favorite causes. He can’t have one without the other.
The event will feature eight chef stations helmed by Biga alumni, including Bliss, and students from St. Philip’s culinary school. The menu has not been set but promises to excite.
Seated beside a floor to ceiling window at Biga, Auden reveals a faint smile. The River Walk below hums with fresh energy. The Tower Life Building across the street rises with dated splendor. Biga manifests the best of both, reflecting a treasured past, embracing what is to come.
The Auden smile is one of gratitude. He invited a number of former workers to celebrate the anniversary, and they happily accepted. The planning continues and so does the demand of business. The kitchen calls. It’s time to cook up a new creation.
