St. Louis Eats and Drinks With Joe and Ann Pollack

Eating in Seattle

When is a restaurant worth all the hoopla, and how long can it keep all its dishes in the air at the same time, so to speak? On a trip to Seattle, we visited three established restaurants, two with large national reputations and a third from the city’s best-known chef/entrepreneur. What we got ran the gamut from exceeding expectations to a surprising letdown.

Or maybe it should not have surprised professional eaters, which we consider ourselves to be.

The chef/entrepreneur is Tom Douglas, who has five Seattle restaurants and three cookbooks to his credit. We went to his Palace Kitchen on a Sunday night, not because we knew much about it but because it serves late seven nights a week and it was easy to find on the ride from the theater to the hotel. Inside, it felt right, seemingly dark, but bright enough to read the menu and see the food and a noise level that rumbled gently, enabling us to talk comfortably. No smoking; Seattle law prohibits it.

The Kitchen runs a wood-fired oven, used to roast chicken, fish and a few other things, on a menu that is what we’d term Modern American - that roast chicken is sauced with rhubarb and almonds, for instance. But the choices lend themselves to nibbling; much of what we tried came from that part of the menu. And since it was Seattle, after all, we aimed mostly at seafood.

Out of that oven came a grilled sardine, the best we’ve had since our last visit to France. Crisp, slightly smoky skin, moist flesh, a little lemon, a little parsley; all it took was some easy knife work to yield up the pieces of succulent fish. Grilled mackerel chunks sat on a lightly dressed salad, their juices seasoning the greens. Abalone, the unusual shellfish that’s actually a snail, arrived thinly sliced, slightly chewy, its flavor mild. Riding alongside for contrast were some crisp pickled radishes.

And then there were the chicken wings. Huge, meaty wings had been marinated in – well, it’s a mystery, but we’re pretty sure about soy sauce and garlic and a little pepper, but beyond that, and we mean way beyond, there was lots more. Then they went into the applewood-burning oven (the residue, presumably, of those Washington State apples) and roasted until deeply brown and crisp. Oh, the delight of them, and that’s not even counting the marvelous sauce that turned out to be coriander chutney pureed with sour cream. A great dish, to be sure, whose last dribs and drabs were wiped up with first-rate bread.

Fresh pappardelle noodles came with tuna "meatballs" alongside, the tuna coarsely ground and gently patted into shape. The pasta wore a light stock-and-butter emulsion and was studded with fresh green peas and lightly smoked marcona almonds, the whole thing working together with both textures and tastes to make a memorable dish.

A signature dessert at several of Douglas’ restaurants is his coconut cream pie. Having grown up with aunts who were demon pie bakers, we learned early on that a handsome pie isn’t necessarily a tasty one, and that sometimes those fragile crusts just crumble at the wrong place. Okay, so it wasn’t a perfect piece, as you can see. But was it divine, oh, yes. A good crust, flaky but chewy with bits of shredded roasted coconut in it, a filling made with coconut milk, whipped cream rather than meringue, and topped with shards of white chocolate and fresh coconut. Rich and light and fabulous, to be sure.

 

Excellent service, a good wine list, and even a steak-and-egg breakfast available after 10 p.m., along with the rest of the menu, every night. A superlative example of regional American cooking.

Palace Kitchen

2030 Fifth Ave., Seattle, WA

206-448-2001

http://www.tomdouglas.com/restaurants/palace-kitchen

Dinner nightly

Credit cards: Yes

Wheelchair access: Good

Smoking: No

Entrees: $19-$36

Wild Ginger has been around for 20 years or so, and is often listed as one of the most popular restaurants in Seattle. An early example of Pan Asian or Pacific Rim cuisine, it’s downtown, in a large pair of rooms across the street from Benaroya Hall, home to the Seattle Symphony. The large menu offers many opportunities for small dishes fun to play with, and a good-sized cocktail menu, as well as a carefully chosen wine list that pairs well with the Asian flavors. We were particularly happy with a 2007 Domaine La Croix Belle Syrah from the Languedoc, where the winemakers worked with Wild Ginger’s chefs to create a vibrant result, with a spicy nose and a clear note of clove to go with the food. It’s available by the glass as well as the bottle.

Satays, or kebabs, to mix cultures, are a feature here, with 11 options on the current menu. One called Viet-In-Thai involved ground lamb seasoned with onion, garlic, coriander and hoisin sauce and cooked quickly enough to leave a dark outside and a juicy interior, intriguing to the tongue. Wild Ginger’s take on wonton soup used a rich, lightly gingered chicken stock to cradle dumplings filled with pork and shrimp. And laksa, a Malaysian soup we’d only read about, is described as like bouillabaisse, but in reality is much more complicated. A fish stock seasoned with a complex paste and coconut milk held several kinds of fish and shellfish, none overcooked, and some rice noodles. Not fiery-hot but definitely spicy, it was great.

The Siam Lettuce Cup held small chunks of grilled fish, seasoned with lemongrass, peppers, lime and Thai basil in the cradling piece of Boston lettuce, a fork food, rather than the wrap-it-up-and-eat that lettuce cups often demand. Squid came stir-fried in a red curry sauce with the licorice-y notes of Thai basil topping things off, pleasant but not as remarkable as the lettuce cup. Spicy Manila clams did better, with a pungent broth that cried out for bread, but alas, there was none to be found to prolong the pleasure of the tender bivalves.

And that brings us to the question of caring for customers. We were uncomfortable sitting at our table. The seats were too low, or perhaps the tabletops were too high, but it made for awkward eating. fit. The chairs themselves had an uncomfortable ledge at the juncture between back and seat, unseen because of the seat cushion but felt by the user. On our way out we expressed some displeasure to a hostess who assured us the other dining room was a better fit. Service was slightly disjointed, with a note of coolness. We can live with that, but when a used fork was removed from a soiled plate and put back on the table for future use made us gasp. Places with $30 entrees shouldn’t be one-fork restaurants. More oddly, as the other plate was removed, the server took the fork, and removed a clean spoon as well.

Nice setting, interesting menu and some superior dishes. Weaker on comfort and service.

Wild Ginger

1401 3rd Ave., Seattle, WA

206-623-4450

http://www.wildginger.net

Lunch Mon.-Sat., Dinner nightly

Credit cards: Yes

Wheelchair access: Good

Smoking: No

Entrees: $9-$30

Canlis was THE restaurant in Seattle as soon as it opened in 1950. It’s proud of its architecture, its art, its food (the family was early locavores) and its service. Perched high on a hillside overlooking Lake Union and the distant Cascade Mountains, the view is stunning as dusk comes on. An interior that might be dismissed as faux-ski-lodge in other settings seems organic here. Valet parking only (and pay attention to the directions on the website or on the telephone options if you drive), and a platoon of servers to present each course with simultaneous delivery.Clearly a spot for major celebrations, Canlis’ menu is heavy on seafood with Asian accents. (Originally the servers, all female, wore kimonos.)

Not much is shocking. Peter Canlis Prawns arrived in a buttery sauce, with little of the promised garlic, red chile and lime. Still, they were large and perfectly cooked. The Canlis steak tartare was tasty, moist and ruddy, although the toasts with it were cold and slightly soggy.

Slices of duck breast, rare as requested, were arranged over crescents of lightly cooked fennel, the plate drizzled with a black pepper jam, which worked well with the duck. King salmon sat safely amid parsley potatoes with preserved Meyer lemon, the latter ingredient combining two of the West Coast’s hottest current trends, the Meyer lemon and North African-style preserved lemon. Both were good but not astounding. A side dish of forest mushrooms was inadvertently overlooked but arrived as a splendid saute of a large handful, just pure mushroom taste.

Doughnuts, another item that’s popping up on more menus lately, were fresh and warm, filled with banana, a milk chocolate dipping sauce on the side, and a quite good peanut butter ice cream to add to the fun. The smallest serving of bread pudding we’ve ever seen, an oval about an inch high and wide and less than two inches long, had two apricots poached in muscat wine alongside. The olive oil ice cream didn’t fly with the combination. And the bread pudding, supposedly made with panettone, the Italian sweet yeast bread, was so shy in its flavor as to begin to blush when we took its picture.

Good, pricey wine list, many, many cocktails, some innovatively designed, and a final flourish that did astound. At the fireplace near the front door, Ann’s coat was being warmed for her when we got there.

Alas. Just not what we expected, and thus not worth it.

Canlis

2576 Aurora Ave., Seattle, WA

206-283-3313

www.canlis.com

Dinner Mon-Sat. (Nightly in December)

Credit cards: Yes

Wheelchair access: Fair

Smoking: No

Entrees: $28-$72

This Week's Wine, April 26, 2009

People who write about wine are among the most fortunate of writers, and I’m quite grateful that the late Joseph Pulitzer sent word one day more than 35 years ago. "Since you’re spending my money on food and wine, and you write about the food, you might as well start writing about the wine, too," was the gist of his instruction, and he didn’t have to repeat it.

The first thing that I discovered is how nice wine people are – grape growers, winemakers, cellar rats, chemists, owners of wineries, distributors, salesmen and women, sommeliers or servers or bartenders who pour the wine. Of course, drinkers are good people, too, and people who love wine, or collect wine, are mostly generous and happy to show off and share the gems of their cellars.

Several times a year, distributors have tastings of their wines. Winemakers or others from the winery often show up to pour samples and to talk about them. Potential buyers -- shop owners or restaurateurs or good customers -- are invited to the tasting, and I’m sometimes on the list, which always makes for a fine afternoon or evening.

My most recent big tasting involved A. Bommarito Wines, a second, if related career for Anthony (Tony) Bommarito, who made a successful move from Tony’s restaurant, where he and his brother Vince built a classic. Bommarito displayed wine from more than 30 producers, most from California but with some Missouri, Illinois and Oregon makers, along with imports from Spain, France, Australia and Italy.

I was intrigued, for example, by the offerings of the Clear Creek Distillery of Portland, Ore., which makes dozens of different distilled spirits, grappas, liqueurs, eau de vie and brandy from a wide variety of fruits and wines. Grappa, for example, is distilled from the must -- seeds, stems and last drops of juice -- remaining after the grapes are crushed and most of the liquid has gone off to become Pinot Noir, Pinot Gris, Muscat, Nebbiolo and Gewurztraminer. I admit I’ve never been a fan of grappa, from the days when I first tasted it on a hilltop in Italy. It tastes too strong, too alcoholic for me, though I like the fruit aroma, and a small hit on a chilly night does wonders for the circulation. I much prefer the eau-de-vie, a clear liqueur made from pears or apples, where the fruit comes through more strongly, with a better balance between alcohol and fruit.

Clear Creek also grows pears and apples in bottles, then adds the eau-de-vie (literally "water of life"). The trick is to start with the fruit at a very early stage of growth, when it and the branch it lives on will fit inside the bottle. The bottle, with the infant fruit already inside, then is tied to the tree to hold it during the growth process. The branch is cut, liqueur added and – voila, a pear and pear liqueur, in a bottle.

Liqueurs, extremely fruity and sweet, fine for after-dinner drinking, are made from loganberries, raspberries, pears, cherries and currants, the latter called cassis. These were delicious, as was the eau-de-vie. I guess I’ll just have to practice some more on the grappa.

Missouri and Illinois brought some delicious bottles to the party. My favorite was a 2004 Norton from Adam Puchta Winery (Hermann), properly aged, approaching its peak with delicious flavor, superior balance and a long, smooth finish. Winemaker Tim Puchta also had a 2000 Norton Port on hand, a beautiful after-dinner drink with a fine Stilton, Roquefort or Blue cheese. I’m always pleased to see Puchta’s wines in such good shape. His winery is the oldest, single-family owned winery in the state, but more important, his father, Randy, worked alongside me at the soda fountain in the student union at Mizzou in 1947 and 1948. He was pre-law, I was pre-journalism. He went on to be a successful attorney and judge; I went into journalism, a very different profession.

Other Missouri wines that stood out were a 2004 Norton and 2006 Chardonel from Bethlehem Valley (Marthasville), ‘05 Norton and Chambourcin from Augusta (Augusta), ‘05 Norton, ‘07 Vignole and Vidal Blanc from Stone Hill (Hermann). On the Illinois side, Lucian Dressel’s Mary Michelle Winery (Carrollton) demonstrated a few fine examples, like the ‘06 Mad Squirrel, a Chardonel made solely in stainless steel, giving it a crisp, delightful lightness, and an ‘07 Norton, surprisingly drinkable from a grape that usually demands more aging.

Even tasting for most of an afternoon, it was impossible for me to drink and assess as many wines as Bommarito and his suppliers offered, but these struck me as

excellent examples for a table or a cellar.

Dierberg (Santa Barbara, Calif.) – Jim and Mary Dierberg have Missouri roots and experience at Hermannhof in Augusta, but their California wines are brilliant, thanks to the skill of winemaker Nick de Luca and items like terroir and climate that will always make California wines better than those from Missouri. Dierberg wines come from Santa Maria and Santa Rita Hills in the Central Coast appellation (near Santa Barbara), with delightful versions of Pinot Noir, Chardonnay and Syrah. A second label, Three Saints, offers Chardonnay, Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah and Pinot Noir, plus a Pinot Noir rose.

Star Lane Vineyard, at the eastern end of the Santa Ynez Valley, is another Dierberg property that gave its name to a Cabernet Sauvignon, a Merlot and a Sauvignon Blanc, plus Astral Cabernet, a top-of-the-line wine in pedigree and price. The ‘05 Star Lane Cab, which includes 15 percent Cabernet Franc and 5 percent Petit Verdotl, is a rich, deep, long-lasting wine that stands out among all wines from the classic grape.

Joullian (Carmel Valley, Calif.) – Carmel Valley ‘06 Zinfandel, a delightful, full-bodied Zin to accompany barbecue or even Thai food, this appears to be a field blend (all the grapes that grow in the vineyard) of 85 percent Zinfandel and the remainder a mix of Petite Sirah (6), Cabernet Sauvignon (4) and such as Aleatico, Alicante Bouchet, Carignane, Grenache, Viognier and Muscat Hamburg which go to make up the remaining 5 percent. The wine is in oak for 16 months before bottling.

MacRostie (Sonoma, Calif.) – Using grapes from the Carneros region, which covers both Napa and Sonoma Counties, Steve MacRostie displayed a marvelous ‘06 Pinot Noir from Wildcat Mountain and a rich, deep, complex ‘05 Merlot.

Rombauer Vineyards (St. Helena, Calif.) -- Another winery with a St. Louis connection, owner Koerner Rombauer is a great-nephew to Irma, who wrote the classic "Joy of Cooking" while living in St. Louis. His children, Koerner III and Sheana, also are involved in the winery. Winemaker Gregory Graham turns out excellent versions of the California standards, Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Zinfandel and Chardonnay.

Pellegrini Family Vineyards (Santa Rosa, Calif.) – Bob Pellegrini is a veteran Sonoma County winemaker, using the family name, Olivet Lane and Cloverdale Ranch labels. My favorite at the tasting was a delicious, unoaked, Russian River Valley Chardonnay under the Pellegrini label. The’06 version highlighted the acidity and green apple notes. A fine wine with oysters. The ‘06 Zinfandel, from the Eight Cousins Vineyard in the Russian River Valley, was complex and rich, with a mouth-filling feel and good finish.

Gerard Bertrand (France) – A busy producer on the Mediterranean coast, Bertrand makes wine in all price ranges, from vineyards that stretch from Limoux on the west to Nimes on the east, including Minervois, the Cotes du Languedoc, Montpellier and St. Chinian, among others. His prices range from $12 for simple varietals like Merlot and Syrah to $75 for three Icon wines, estate bottled as La Forge (Carignan and Syrah), Le Viala (adding Grenache to the previous two) and l’Hospitalitas (Mourvedre, Syrah and Grenache). Bertrand’s wines have a hint of French elegance to go with the earthy qualities of the grapes from the far south of France.

Tenuta Vitanza (Italy) – Rosalba Vitanza and her husband, Guido Andretta, make some delicious wine from a hillside estate in the southern Tuscan town of Montalcino, where Sangiovese grapes are the main crop. They create several different Chiantis and Brunellos, plus a super Tuscan with the proprietary name of Quadrimendo. I sampled several Chiantis and a Brunello and all were highly polished, deeply flavored wines that simply glowed with the power of Sangiovese grapes.

As usual with this type of tasting, it was a long afternoon, but a very pleasant advance look at some of the wines that will be on St. Louis wine lists this year.

-Joe

Trattoria Marcella

Yeah, it is the economy, but we’re not going to add the now-expected "stupid. So what’s an eater to do? One of the smart moves is to do a little judicious shopping for what the Zagat Survey editors call bang for the buck.

More and more restaurants are offering specials on weeknights. Our advice is to take advantage of them, either at places you already know and love or places you’ve always wanted to try. We think that if a kitchen is talented at putting out expensive food, its chefs can do equally well on the other end of the spectrum. Most chefs have enough ego to look on it as a challenge.

Trattoria Marcella offers a $10 menu every Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. No, it’s not all pasta, although our respect for local pasta remains one of our guiding principles, it led us down what turned out to be a lovely path indeed. And yes, the regular menu is still available on those nights, too.

Meatballs over polenta brought two baseball-sized orbs, lovely and tender, in a basil-laced brilliant red tomato sauce, all ladled over polenta, something that doesn’t get enough props around here. As creamy as mashed potatoes and full of corn flavor, it was seductive.

Marcella’s potato gnocchi (pronounced n’yokey - that "cchi" is pronounced like the middle of zucchini, with a hard "k.") are perhaps the best in town. Far from the gumminess we’ve come across too often, these are at the sweet spot between too firm and too soft, and a generous portion arrives in a Bolognese sauce, rich with meat (we suspect both beef and pork), topped off with a dollop of fresh ricotta and a little parmigiano cheese. For us, this is the don’t-miss dish.

Farfalle Alessandra combined smoked salmon, asparagus nuggets and black olives in a lemon cream sauce topped with some diced marinated tomato. The sauce was surprisingly light, tasting more of salmon than lemon, the asparagus remained crunchy, and the salmon itself was present in a goodly amount. The single off note was that the sliced black olives appeared to be California-style, small and negligible in flavor compared to their Mediterranean cousins.

Other, untried options were linguini with pancetta, chicken and spinach in a mushroom broth, chicken in a lemon-garlic sauce, and a steak with green peppercorn sauce, the latter two with vegetable sides. Steve and Jamie Komorek say the menu is for a limited time, but want to work some other modestly priced entrees into their regular menu. The problem, they say, is that customers hate seeing their favorites disappear in favor of something new, a constant difficulty for restaurateurs.

Whatever happens to this menu, it’s time to schedule a weeknight visit.

Trattoria Marcella

3600 Watson Rd.

314-352-7706

www.trattoriamarcella.com

Dinner Tues.-Sat.

Credit cards: Yes

Wheelchair access: Fair

Smoking: No

Entrees: $10 (see above) - $18 

Breakfast at Goody Goody Diner

A large sign on the front of the Goody Goody Diner announces "BREAKFAST SERVED ALL DAY." That’s a relatively recent development at this family-owned spot that’s been feeding folks for 60 years. And we’re delighted. We take just about any excuse to eat breakfast at Goody Goody.

An interior so dazzlingly white and shiny that shades are needed on sunny mornings draws a clientele ranging from postmen to politicians. Servers, many of whom appear to have been there since they were barely old enough to hold a job or lift a tray, know the menu like the back of their hand and seem to fly around the dining room. Plenty of regulars, of course, with their accompanying banter - including police, who’ve made this a regular stop since at least, in our experience, 1969.

When it comes to Goody Goody, the one group we might warn are the indecisive. Ordering something as simple as bacon and eggs calls forth piles of options. Definitions of terms like like "over easy" and "soft-scrambled" are spelled out in the menu so a diner knows exactly what to expect. And we’ve never had an egg that did not meet the menu’s description or our expectation. The carbohydrate options: rice, grits, cheese grits or hash browns, and if it’s hash browns, do you want onions on them? (You do, believe us.) And bread? Toast, sure, but white or wheat? Or English muffins, bagels, biscuits or - wait for it - dollar pancakes.

So you don’t want bacon? How about ham, pork sausage as patties or links, turkey sausage. Take a deep breath and go on to pork chops, hot Polish links, strip steak, country fried steak, hamburger steak, chicken breast, catfish, salmon patty, house-made corned beef hash and, of course, biscuits and gravy. Variations on pancakes and waffles are offered, too, although not in such breathtaking variety. And there are the omelets, including the Wilbur, the signature dish, an omelet filled with hash browns, peppers, onions and tomatoes, then topped with chili and cheese.

On a recent visit, we ended up with the country mix, a scramble with fresh onions and green peppers, along with ham, with tender, yummy dollar cakes alongside. A side of the hot link gives a good-sized chunk of the large, finely ground sausage, still moist, with what we suspect is a natural casing. The second breakfast plate held a good-sized salmon patty, seasoned like Mom should have, with a little green pepper and a good hit of black pepper, alongside softly scrambled eggs and those excellent hash browns, crispy here, tender there, the onions added afterwards but in a goodly amount. A very proper biscuit sat alongside, and better-than-average-diner coffee, refilled almost constantly, topped things off.

No reservations, of course, but Goody Goody does a lot of carry-out. And they’re closed on Sunday. Plan on a wait if you visit on a Saturday morning.

Family is important at this North St. Louis landmark. Owners Richard and Laura Connelly took over from his parents, who turned a drive-in into a full-service spot. Long may they fry.

Goody Goody Diner

5900 Natural Bridge Ave.

314-383-3333

www.goodygoodydiner.com

Breakfast and Lunch Mon.-Sat.

Credit cards: Yes

Wheelchair access: Yes

Smoking: No

Entrees: $4-$8

Napoli 2

Napoli 2 makes no secret of its family tree. The offspring of Clayton’s Café Napoli isn’t a clone, but clearly shows its bloodlines in style, menu, service in the dining room and skill in the kitchen. Located in Town and Country Crossing (not Town and Country Commons), a new shopping center at Clayton and Woods Mill Roads, it certainly trumps its parent in terms of easy parking. Three dining rooms divide the interior so that there’s an aura of intimacy despite seating capacity of more than 120. And there’s always a Pietoso on hand, usually the next generation. On our visit, it was son Kye, who reported his father had just left for Clayton.

Despite the carpeting and acoustic tiles, this is a noisy restaurant on busy nights. Granite tabletops, left bare to show their gleaming surface, look good but add to the problem. Still, we’ve finally decided we prefer the happy roar of people having a good time to the sepulchral feel of the sort of place where one feels compelled to whisper lest folks stare. However, when Napoli 2 is not packed, sound drops to a reasonable level.

Happily, the Pietosos have carried their wonderful cioppino to West County. For lovers of fishy things, it’s a marvelous soup-stew, rich and tomato-y, loaded with all sortsof piscatorial pleasure without being heavy. The deep-fried rice balls called arancini (shown below) are filled at the whim of the kitchen, with things like mozzarella and sausage. The result is pleasantly chewy, with a flavor in this case reminiscent of pizza. Eggplant parmigiana is double-layered, a generous serving with enough cheese and lots of eggplant.

 

We also divided an order of linguini puttanesca for a first course, and can enthusiastically recommend it. The pasta was al dente, and the sauce, slightly less peppery than perfectly traditional, was delightful, tomato studded with mushrooms and capers, and the juices from clams and mussels, both served in their shells, enriching everything. It’s another splendid example of confirmation for our belief that the pastas of St. Louis’ fine-dining Italian restaurants are underappreciated treasures.

Fans of liver and onions have long known that Napoli in Clayton puts out a tasty version, and it’s found here as well. A large slice of calf’s liver is gently cooked and smothered in caramelized onions seasoned with balsamic vinegar, differing in look from liver a la Veneziana, which calls for the meat to be in strips. It’s as good as ever, although the plate looks a little bare. Some spinach sauteed with garlic and olive oil came alongside after a disparaging comment about the same standard, year-round vegetables that joined every entree, and it was a superior substitution. A very delicate rendition of veal saltimbocca, layers of thin slices of veal with prosciutto and cheese, showed off meat that was light and not overcooked, and a good balance of flavors. The server didn’t bat an eye at a request for the side dish of pasta to be topped with garlic and olive oil rather than the proffered tomato or cream sauces.

Lovers of full-flavored food will thrill at a strip steak grilled as ordered, topped with gorgonzola cheese and a generous drizzle of balsamic vinegar; the salt y, sweet, sour and savory tastes all played tag with one another. It was accompanied by chunks of roasted potato and some carrots and green beans. And speaking of steak, there’s a calamari steak on the menu, a large slice that’s been cooked quickly to remain tender, and topped with some greens dressed with a lemony vinaigrette. The heat melts the greens just a little, and the mixture of textures is great, the tart vinaigrette punctuating things nicely. But the calamari itself, exotic as it sounds, is quite bland, needing that acidity to step things up.

The wine list, with some splendid Italian varietals, also has a good by-the-glass selection and values in the near-$40 range. For example, a Gavi Pio Cesare from Piedmont ($33) was just right with the first courses, the Cortese grape that its its prime ingredient adding a mineral crispness that was a fine complement to the cioppino and worked well with the eggplant Parmesan. It was not enough to handle the pasta, but if four people are dining, it’s impossible to find a single wine to match all the dishes. With main courses, a 2005 Sonoma County Cabernet Sauvignon from Chateau St. Jean ($45) was splendid with the liver and steak, not quite a as good with the calamari.

Dessert options included Grand Marnier bread pudding and a key lime tart. The individual tart was a delicious blend of the classic flavors, creamy-tart filling and the gentle texture of the well-browned graham cracker crust. Alas, the fluffy, melt-in-the-mouth texture of the bread pudding was not only its primary asset, but practically its only one. There were no discernible notes of orange from Grand Marnier, just the raspberry drizzle that zig-zagged across the cube of pudding.

Good service across the board, despite the fact that the joint was jumping. Napoli 2 will be a major dining asset to West County.

Napoli 2

1054 Town and Country Crossing , Town and Country

636-256-9998

www.cafenapoli.com

Credit cards: Yes

Dinner nightly

Smoking: No

Entrees: $18-$26

Wheelchair access: Good 

 

Hummus For A Party

Apparently I am not quite the last person in the world to acquire a slow cooker, or Crock-Pot, as most of us habitually refer to them. And I probably don’t use it as often as I might. But I hauled it out the other day when I wanted to make hummus. I had plenty of time, and I knew that the slow cookers were good for cooking dried legumes.

This hummus recipe is my usual one, adapted slightly from Horn Of The Moon Cookbook, now out of print, which came from a Vermont vegetarian restaurant of the generation of the still-mourned Sunshine Inn. It is in no way authentic, but it’s miles beyond the bland goo that used to be the standard. I made gallons of it for my son and daughter-in-law’s wedding when Jane’s folks and I fed a couple of hundred people at their farm. It freezes perfectly, and since this recipe makes about a quart and a half, you may want to do that, too. When I did that, I bought my chickpeas in bulk at what is now Jay Foods on South Grand, as well as garlic and large jars of tahini, which are less expensive than at mainstream supermarkets. (They also are available at Jay’s sibling, Global Foods in Kirkwood, which does not have bulk bins.)

Tahini is like natural peanut butter; it separates on standing. The night before you plan to use it, turn the jar upside down to make your life easier. (It’ll begin to re-amalgamate the layers.) You may still need to stir it before using; by now, it’s automatic for me. Some tahinis are thicker than others, and that will affect how much body the hummus will have. Thick hummus can be used for sandwiches, but I usually make it a little thinner for dips. To me, hummus calls for vegetable dippers, but there’s much to be said for warm toasted pita wedges.

The recipe below gives the standard directions for stovetop cooking of the dried chickpeas, also labeled garbanzos. What I did with the Crock-Pot was to toss the chickpeas into a stovetop pan and add hot water to cover them by about three inches. I brought that to a boil and put the whole thing into the Crock-Pot on low heat. They cooked for about nine hours. When I checked them, I was blown away. They had a depth of flavor I’d never found before. It was great, and unless there’s a time problem, I’ll never cook them any other way.

You can be casual about the exact quantities of onion and spices; this is a play-it-by-mouth sort of thing. I usually up the pepper, sometimes quite vigorously, and the salt as well.

1 lb. dried chickpeas or garbanzos

water

1-2 Tbs. olive oil, plus more for optional garnish

1½ c. finely chopped onion (2-3 onions)

5 large cloves of garlic, minced

1 medium carrot, finely chopped

1/2 c. lemon juice (optional: grate some peel before juicing lemons)

1 c. tahini

2 Tbs. soy sauce

1 tsp. ground cumin

1/4 tsp. cayenne

1/2 tsp salt

za’atar or paprika for optional garnish

Put the chickpeas to soak in cold water to cover by 3-4 inches, and let them soak overnight. Alternatively, bring to a boil, let boil for 2 minutes, turn off heat, cover, let stand for 2 hours, and then begin cooking. Bring to a boil, drop heat to a simmer, cover, and let cook until tender. Check water levels to make sure water covers chickpeas all the time. Total cooking varies from 2 to 4 hours. (Don’t be fooled; I came across a recipe on the internet that called for 40 minutes. Nope.) Yes, you can cook the chickpeas in advance. Drain the chickpeas, but do not discard the liquid.

Heat a medium-to-large skillet. Add the olive oil, let it warm for a minute or two and add the onions, garlic and carrot. Saute over medium-low heat until vegetables are soft and many of them are browned. The pan will need to be scraped increasingly often as they cook; that’s okay.

While the onions and things are cooking, get out your largest bowl. Using a food processor, whiz the chickpeas. I like them very smooth, and that means you probably need to use some of the cooking liquid (or water) to thin the mixture. Scrape down the sides of the processor as needed. You’ll probably have to do this in two or three batches. Add the mashed chickpeas to the large bowl. (The cookbook adds that you can do this with a bean masher, which looks very much like a potato masher.)

If you like lemon, you may want to grate the peel of the 2 lemons (washed with soap and water, please, and dried) before you juice them. Add the lemon juice, tahini, soy sauce, cumin, cayenne and salt, and when they’re cooked enough, the vegetables. Using a large flexible spatula so you can scrape the walls of the bowl, mix it all together, and keep mixing. Because of the density, it’s a little more difficult to get the seasonings well-dispersed than in some things.

Taste. More salt? More cayenne? (I used to use about 4 flakes of dried habanero that had been soaked briefly in the lemon juice, and it was quite, quite hot.) Maybe a little more cumin. How about the thickness of the mixture? More cooking liquid? As you stir in the adjusted seasonings, continue scraping the side of the bowl. (Ask me how I learned this.)

If you’re going to be serving this at a party, I put it on a platter (a bright color is a great idea for this pale tan hummus), do some parallel curved swirls on the top surface, sort of ((((, drizzle olive oil over it, and sprinkle paprika or za’atar, the dark red Middle Eastern seasoning that’s sumac and thyme and sesame seeds. Some foks like to save out a few whole chickpeas and sprinkle them on top as a little clue to what it is.

Makes 1 1/2 quarts.

-Ann

Andria's Steakhouse Chesterfield

Andria’s, the long-time East Side steakhouse stalwart has come to Chesterfield, taking over an existing building on the south side of the mall’s parking lot. Several large dining rooms mean there’s plenty of room for hungry carnivores, and there’s not a hint of dress-code stuffiness about the place. Moreover, it’s a restaurant, as in the Mother House in O’Fallon, Ill., where the entree price includes a salad and potato (or zucchini, but you know we won’t praise that), unlike some that ring up another sawbuck or more for a spud and a simple salad. That’s a policy to endear it to most of us these days. And the cheery, pleasant service makes it a trifecta.

We’ve been happy in the past with the Andria’s grilled portabella mushroom cap for a starter, but this time split a plate of what the menu terms antipasta, two kinds of Volpi meats, a salami and some delicious, spicy coppa ham, marinated mushrooms, peppers and tomatoes, a few olives and some tiny mozzarella balls. The entire plate was perfect for encouraging the appetite with a bright collection of flavors. Alas, the small rounds of dried bread that ringed the plate left a lot to be desired.

The house salad on a recent visit also fell short. Joe has muttered about brown lettuce in salads for years, and there was some of that in the mixture of greens. The mushrooms were rather beat up, but the little grape tomatoes were excellent, ripe and sweet as summer. Also in the debit side, bacon in a salad needs to be crisp, not in chewy clumps and smelling of maple flavoring. The house dressing is a sweet-and-sour oil and vinegar, and while we’re not fond of sweet salad dressings, this one is better than average. The Thousand Island dressing was standard.

It’s difficult for us not to order a pork chop at Andria’s; over the years, we’ve had some superb ones. But the urge for beef was driving us both, and we chose a pair from among a wide selection of cow. The ribeye was 14 ounces, boneless, and very well trimmed, with almost no fat or gristle, a little thinner than we’d expected but still dead-on with the house definition of medium rare, which is a center that’s still red but warm. The done-ness criteria, by the way, are clearly stated on the menu, always a good idea. The flavor was wonderful, the chew just barely a little less tender than our strip steak. The thicker strip, equally well trimmed and properly cooked, and also 14 ounces, seemed even richer. This is really excellent meat with all the red meat lightly brushed with the house sauce that can be bought at local retail outlets. It certainly does enhance things without being obtrusive.

Baked potatoes come wrapped in a twist of brown butcher paper, but happily, that doesn’t mean they taste steamed. The skin is even a little chewy, a sign that the fat russet potatoes haven’t been forced into aluminum foil before cooking. No potato worth its butter wants to die in Reynolds Wrap, of course. In addition to the baked potato, the diner’s vegetable selection is limited to the green thing that dare not speak its name, with an extra charge for asparagus and mushrooms. A generous serving of buttery-tasting mushrooms did well, their juices commingling with the steak juices creating a rich, hearty combination of tastes.

The wine list offers a large selection by the glass, and bottles that get toward the outer edge with, for example, a Rombauer. We found an Australian Shiraz that was just right with the steak, and a hearty Zinfandel was equally successful.

Desserts are very snazzy-looking. We saw a chocolate pyramid go by, and a creme brulee set in a chocolate shell. Our choice was key lime mousse, a cylinder with layers of the mousse and tender cake, nicely tart, creamy but sitting lightly on the tongue.

Not perfect, but still some fine cow.

Andria's Steakhouse

12165 Chesterfield Parkway W., Chesterfield

636-530-9800

http://www.andriaschesterfield.com  

Wheelchair access: Good

Smoking: Yes

Entrees (includes salad and vegetable): $18-$35  

Lunch Wed.-Sun, Dinner nightly

Credit cards: Yes

 

The Shaved Duck, Redux

The Shaved Duck has re-opened in a very different mood. The interior looks relatively unchanged and, oh, yes, the traditional Belgian duck-fat French fries are still there. But most of the menu has gone toward barbecue and their takes on traditional American food, like three styles of chili. The smoker is working in the back and immortalized in a large charcoal drawing in the dining room. It makes for an easy dinner stop for those going to theater and other functions at Tower Grove Park or Tower Grove Abbey, which is only a few blocks away.

Trying to save a calorie or two, we skipped a first course   and headed straight for entrees. The Big Jimmy platter offered up all four of their meat offerings. The best was clearly the ribs, tender, moist, full of flavor, a good rendition. And the pulled pork also was rich, tender and definitely satisfying. Pulled chicken was okay, but not outstanding, but it was the brisket that brought a grave disappointment. Thin slices had little of the true beefy flavor that comes from a long-cooked brisket. The barbecue sauces are housemade, including a tomato-bourbon-brown sugar, a horseradish mustard and a vinegar-chile, but none offered anything special. The fillip of special, chef-induced flavor that lifts barbecue sauce out of the ordinary was absent. The four containers on the table were unlabeled, and when we pointed to the other one, the server responded, "Oh, that’s just plain ketchup." Be warned. A Caesar salad alongside wore cornbread croutons and a very decent dressing, lacking a strong anchovy note but nevertheless first-rate.

The only un-smoked entree on the menu is duck, described as a half duck roasted with honey glaze. Consequently, when the server asked, "Do you want a whole duck or a half?" we were taken aback. The half duck was a generous size, certainly, and its skin was glossy, browned nicely, but only erratically crisp, and displayed no flavor of honey. Under the skin, though, the meat was properly cooked and very satisfying. The home fries offered on the menu turned out to be ordinary thin-cut french fries that were nicely browned but didn’t have much flavor.

We split a piece of blackberry crumb pie, which suffered the inevitable sogginess from a sojourn in the refrigerator, but even so kept some flakiness, and tasted homemade. There’s a big by-the-glass wine list, and plenty of beer options. Service was reliable and prompt.

Have the ribs, sample the duck-fat fries, and try not to mourn the loss of the previous menu.

The Shaved Duck

2900 Virginia Ave.

314-776-1407

www.theshavedduck.com

Dinner Tues.-Sat., Brunch Sun.

Wheelchair access: Poor

Smoking: No

Entrees: $9-$17

Credit cards: Yes

Fond

It’s hard to conceal our delight at what’s happening in the 100 block of North Main Street in Edwardsville these days. A burgeoning Gourmet Gulch seems to be taking hold, with chef Amy Zupanci, an Edwardsville native, CIA graduate and New York restaurant veteran, bringing us Fond. A word on the name: This isn’t the adjective that refers to affection, although after one eats there it’s a very easy emotion to experience. In cooking jargon, it refers to the bits that remain on the bottom of a pan after meat or fish are browned, which are usually rinsed off with a little wine or stock so their rich flavor can become a tasty, rich addition to a sauce.

A storefront with celadon green walls and diaphanous drapes, the light is low and the noise level, at least when the restaurant isn’t packed, is reasonable. The dark wood fixtures lend a feeling of the Asian tropics - think Singapore with air conditioning. Servers are young and welcoming, but show signs of serious training - re-setting tables, they carry the silver on a napkin-lined plate, for instance, one of those little details that mark a restaurant as paying attention. And they re-set the silver often, sometimes replacing previously untouched utensils.

An amuse-bouche of a tony cod cake with a polka dot of scallion mayonnaise kicked things off, a drizzle of chive oil punctuating everything and providing a nice meshing of flavors. Duck rillettes, creamy-rich and very spreadable, came with toast, a very zingy coarse mustard and some pickled radishes, the right thing to bring spark to an appetite.

Crudo of blue marlin was a first for us. Sliced see-through thin, the raw fish (kind of an Italian ceviche) was dressed with citrus and sprinkled with Italian parsley and tarragon, its anise notes dancing with the fish. Crisply fried shallot rings added a delicate crunch. And a demitasse cup of a cool, clear, brilliant green cucumber soup was touched with a little mint and punctuated with a few floating baubles of creme fraiche seasoned with preserved lemon, a real charmer.

And then there was the scallop. Just one fat boy, but what a remarkable dish: The scallop had been scored part of the way through and then, seemingly, flipped scored-side down into the pan and cooked until crispy on the bottom and slightly browned on the edges, with enough heat to cook it through without turning it over. Rather resembling a chrysanthemum, it was served scored-side up on nuggets of roasted carrot seasoned with Moroccan-esque spicing of cumin and coriander. Alongside came a streak of an amazing frothy puree of smoked celeriac, the flavor confounding people who might think they didn’t care for the root’s celery-like flavor. The scallop was perfectly cooked, the crispy scored side contrasting with the silky bottom, the vegetables were a marvel. It was a platonic dish.

For those who haven’t tried skate, Fond offered a variation that might convince the skeptic. The boneless fish was lightly dusted in cornmeal and fried, holding its tender texture and mild flavor without overwhelming it. It sat atop potatoes Anna, wafer-thin slices cooked in butter until they were deeply browned, crisp here and there, irresistible. Some spinach and green garlic finished things off. Slices of pork loin, still a little pink, paired up with a wonderfully rich polenta. A pleasing counterpoint was provided by some quickly sauteed arugula, its slight peppery notes a deligtful touch. A little shredded pork from the smoker and a bacon-y sauce topped things off, and the result was a pleasure.

The wine list is modest, but includes some wonderful offerings, and a more-than-adequate selection of wines by the glass. Prices are moderate, too. A place like Fond, with its many different preparations and sauces, is perfect for celebrating with several wines, and we like a white with a first course, a red with the entree. Sometimes, of course, the vice is versa.

From the dessert menu, we split a piece of orange tart. Orange is a flavor not often seen after breakfast time, but it can do nice things, and here it lightly flavored a creamy filling that was anointed with a ruby grapefruit sauce and a few segments of the same. The crust was a little soggy, but the texture of the filling was satiny. Excellent coffee, too.

Both Fond and its neighbor up the street, Erato, are bringing more classic American cuisine to the area, just as has happened on the Missouri side of the river. The chefs have distilled the best from the European-African-Asian heritage, the melting pot (or stew pot) that has brought so much else to our shores. Despite those who prefer hyphenates, we think that ingredients and skills from all over the planet have come together in American universities, laboratories and work places of all types, and there is no reason that they should not unite in the kitchen as well.

Fond

106 N. Main St., Edwardsville, IL

618-656-9001

www.fondfinedining.com

Credit cards: Yes

Wheelchair access: Fair

Smoking: No

Entrees: $24-$27