St. Louis Eats and Drinks With Joe and Ann Pollack

This Week's Wine, September 1, 2010

 

We're into September (my, how time flies when you're having fun), and that means the bubbles are getting ready to pop. The final months of the year, as we build to holiday toasts and year-end greetings, is the time when Champagne and other sparkling wines make the preponderance of their sales. There have been heavy crops in recent years, and the poor economy has kept prices down as well.

Champagne, by French law and a tradition honored by most of the world, comes from a single AOC (controlled area) in northeastern France, covering 34,000 hectares, or about 84,000 acres (a hectare is about 2.47 acres). It is further split into five sub-groups, the Cote des Bars, Cote des Blancs, Cote de Sezanne, Montagne des Reims and Vallee de la Marne.

Reims, Ay, Epernay and the well-named Bouzy are among many villages with plantings both large and small. The underlying soil is largely cretaceous chalk, which provides the unique terroir and the delicious flavor of first-rate Champagne. Chardonnay, Pinot Noir and Meunier (sometimes Pinot Meunier) grapes are the primary crop and the sparkling wine is made from a single grape or any blend of two or three. "Blanc de Blancs" is made solely from Chardonnay grapes and rose usually comes from Pinot Noir grapes with minimal skin contact to keep the wine from taking on too much red color. Much of the sparkler is made in small batches, with racking and riddling by hand.

A recent tasting offered a delightful experience to anyone who considers Champagne the best of all aperitifs. I tasted six non-vintage Brut offerings, all properly dry, and found small, tight bubbles and excellent, dry flavor. Four will retail for about $60, the others a sawbuck higher, and they will be on many local retail store shelves by mid-October. Of course, with the holidays in sight, there will be a lot of sparkling wine out there--both imported and domestic--at price ranges from single digits to many hundreds of dollars.

It's worth a search for a trustworthy wine-seller; upper-class Englishmen always have claimed that a gentleman needed three people with that character trait, a wine-seller, a tailor and a bookmaker.

My favorite was a Brut Rose from Henri Billiot in the village of Ambonnay (Montagne des Reims). I'm very fond of rose wines, both still and sparkling; the still offerings from the Cotes de Provence, mostly from Grenache or Syrah grapes, sing of a seat overlooking the Mediterranean Sea with a light breeze and a lunch to match. This offering had a lovely bubble and a crisp flavor with a delightful tingle. It was on the expensive side, as was another Montagne des Reims offering from Vilmart and Co., whose vineyards are in Rilly-la-Montagne, and dubbed Cuvee Grand Cellier. Good fruit, with the Chardonnay flavors under good control.

I was taken by two wines from the Vallee de la Marne, a Carte Verte from Gaston Chiquet of Vizy, and a Cuvee Prestige from Henri Goutorbe of Ay. Both were delicious, with slight earth tones to balance the citrus values in the grapes. Wines from that area always cause me to pause for a moment. The World War I battles at the Marne were so fierce, so deadly, and so many young soldiers are buried where they fell, that it's wine to grieve for, not to honor, a war. The battlefield park, more than 90 years old, remains one of the most poignant sights I've ever seen.

The last two are from the Cotes des Blancs, a 2005 Cuvee Gastronome (the only vintage-dated wine in the tasting) from Pierre Gimonnet of Cuis, and a Cuvee de Reserve from Pierre Peters of Le-Mesnil-sur-Oger. The latter displayed a fascinating tingle on the tongue, probably from high carbonation), and the former showed a hint of peach behind its citrus, tart notes.

None of these are real bargains, but they are excellent values in comparison with many French imports.

* * * *

A Couple of California Winners: J. Lohr, a veteran winemaker in the Monterey area, has a delightful Napa Valley entry in this '09 Sauvignon Blanc, from Carol's Vineyard, north of St. Helena. Good citrus flavors, primarily grapefruit, a little passion fruit, no oak, $24. Equally impressive is a 2008 Syrah from Paso Robles that involves two clones, one American and one Australian. The winemaker triumphed in the blend, with a full nose, a strong flavor of dark cherries, tannins that already are softening and which should be delightfully smooth after cellaring until spring and a long, brisk finish. $28.

* * * *

And Winners at Home: It was Stone Hill against the world in the recent Missouri wine competition, and Stone Hill won by a landslide. I don't serve as a judge any more, and I don't know how many entries there were, but things seem a little out of balance when a single winery--Stone Hill--wins eight of 12 Best of Class medals and 13 of 41 Gold Medals, plus the Governor's Cup for the best overall wine. There were too many silver and bronze medals to even count the winners.

Time was when the judges tasted and scored the wines. The top wine in its class earned gold, the next two got silver and bronze, respectively. But when the competition became a marketing arm for winery sales, things changed. Each wine is judged on a point scale, and wines earning a set number of points got medals. I don't know what the various goals were, but looking at the number of winners, the bar isn't set very high.

There now are close to 100 wineries in the state, and the politically oriented Wine and Grape Board seems more interested in improving cash flow than wine quality. I'm certain that a number of winery people will be offended, but I think awarding so many medals just cheapens their value. It's like social promotion in schools, fine for the family, not worth much in terms of real learning.

Stone Hill's 2009 Sweet Vignoles won the Governor's Cup and best in the Sweet White class, and the Hermann winery won the other two white wine categories with dry and semi-dry also earning best-in-class honors for two other versions of the 2009 Vignoles (Dry and Semi-Dry Vignoles. Other best-in-class winners for Stone Hill were dry red, 2008 Cross J Vineyard Norton; semi-dry red, 2009 Steinberg red; late harvest/ice, 2008 late harvest Vignoles; dessert/fortified, 2006 Port.

Other best-in-class champions were: fruit wine, Pirtle Winery, blackberry mead; sweet red, Mellow Red; sparkling wine, Les Bourgeois Brut; blush, Chaumette Vineyards & Winery, 2009 Spring Rose. Runners-up as gold-medal winners were: Montelle, 4; Les Bourgeois, Chaumette, Adam Puchta, Pirtle, 3 each; Mount Pleasant, 2; Inland Sea, Jowler Creek, Native Home, Peaceful Bend, St. James, Stonehaus, Twin Oaks, 1 each.

-Joe

Crumbs From the Table of Joy

One of the problems with being a young playwright is a determination to gather everything you want to say into the play you're writing. The result may be entertaining, but it also brings extra length, too many words (thank you, Peter Shaffer), some artificiality in setting up straw men and knocking them down and the use of familiar devices.

And so it is with "Crumbs From the Table of Joy," by Lynn Nottage, which opened last night at Fontbonne as a production of the Mustard Seed Theatre, to run through Sept. 12.

Alexis White charms as Ernestine Crump, a high school senior, but seeing her blighted Brooklyn life through a series of scenes from Joan Crawford movies is too old a tactic and one which runs out of gas too quickly. Ernestine is new to Brooklyn in 1950, moving from Florida with her father, Godfrey (Chauncy Thomas) and two-years younger sister, Ermina (Tyler White), after the death of their wife and mother. Godfrey works nights as a baker, has become a controlling, heavy-handed father who spends a lot of time writing notes to himself.

He recently has fallen under the sway of Father Devine, a right-wing, rabble-rousing, haranguing preacher whose radio shows carried a lot of influence in the days before and during World War II, rather like Rush Limbaugh in a clerical collar. He insisted that his followers live pure and clean lives, but his failure to practice as he preached caused his downfall.

Things are slightly dysfunctional, but then Lily (Patrese McClain) shows up and all bets are immediately off. Hugged by clothes a size or two too small which emphasize her curves and her sexuality, she arrives carrying four suitcases, predicting just how much baggage she is bringing. She's the sister of Godfrey's late wife, but she's also a bad bump on the road to understanding. She drinks and smokes, goes to Harlem in search of men, speaks out as an independent woman and, at the same time, claims to be a Communist revolutionary ready to take to the barricades. McClain is excellent in the difficult and not very well written part, because in addition to all the other conflicts, there's underlying tension between Lily and Godfrey that obviously goes back a long time.

Nottage, who won a Pulitzer Prize a year ago for "Ruined," and whose "Intimate Apparel" was performed here a few years ago, has grown a lot since "Crumbs," first produced in 1995 and written before she was 30, like dragging poor Gerte into the action like a dog drenched in a rainstorm. Too much coincidence, and a poor sound design made what was supposed to be a subway sound more like a freight elevator. Jill Ritter Lindbergh works diligently, but the character demands too large a leap over a chasm of unbelievability.

"Crumbs" shows sparks, and Linda Kennedy directs intelligently. The acting is good, and Tyler White is delightful as an adolescent, all elbows and knees. Tyler and Alexis are real sisters and they are always a joy. Thomas works hard to give Godfrey some reality, and often succeeds.

Crumbs From the Table of Joy, by Lynn Nottage, produced by the Mustard Seed Theatre Company at Fontbonne University through Sept. 12

--Joe

Crumbs From the Table of Joy

One of the problems with being a young playwright is a determination to gather everything you want to say into the play you're writing. The result may be entertaining, but it also brings extra length, too many words (thank you, Peter Shaffer), some artificiality in setting up straw men and knocking them down and the use of familiar devices.

And so it is with "Crumbs From the Table of Joy," by Lynn Nottage, which opened last night at Fontbonne as a production of the Mustard Seed Theatre, to run through Sept. 12.

Alexis White charms as Ernestine Crump, a high school senior, but seeing her blighted Brooklyn life through a series of scenes from Joan Crawford movies is too old a tactic and one which runs out of gas too quickly. Ernestine is new to Brooklyn in 1950, moving from Florida with her father, Godfrey (Chauncy Thomas) and two-years younger sister, Ermina (Tyler White), after the death of their wife and mother. Godfrey works nights as a baker, has become a controlling, heavy-handed father who spends a lot of time writing notes to himself.

He recently has fallen under the sway of Father Devine, a right-wing, rabble-rousing, haranguing preacher whose radio shows carried a lot of influence in the days before and during World War II, rather like Rush Limbaugh in a clerical collar. He insisted that his followers live pure and clean lives, but his failure to practice as he preached caused his downfall.

Things are slightly dysfunctional, but then Lily (Patrese McClain) shows up and all bets are immediately off. Hugged by clothes a size or two too small which emphasize her curves and her sexuality, she arrives carrying four suitcases, predicting just how much baggage she is bringing. She's the sister of Godfrey's late wife, but she's also a bad bump on the road to understanding. She drinks and smokes, goes to Harlem in search of men, speaks out as an independent woman and, at the same time, claims to be a Communist revolutionary ready to take to the barricades. McClain is excellent in the difficult and not very well written part, because in addition to all the other conflicts, there's underlying tension between Lily and Godfrey that obviously goes back a long time.

Nottage, who won a Pulitzer Prize a year ago for "Ruined," and whose "Intimate Apparel" was performed here a few years ago, has grown a lot since "Crumbs," first produced in 1995 and written before she was 30, like dragging poor Gerte into the action like a dog drenched in a rainstorm. Too much coincidence, and a poor sound design made what was supposed to be a subway sound more like a freight elevator. Jill Ritter Lindbergh works diligently, but the character demands too large a leap over a chasm of unbelievability.

"Crumbs" shows sparks, and Linda Kennedy directs intelligently. The acting is good, and Tyler White is delightful as an adolescent, all elbows and knees. Tyler and Alexis are real sisters and they are always a joy. Thomas works hard to give Godfrey some reality, and often succeeds.

Crumbs From the Table of Joy, by Lynn Nottage, produced by the Mustard Seed Theatre Company at Fontbonne University through Sept. 12

--Joe

Life During Wartime

"Life During Wartime," writer-director Todd Solondz's fascinating new movie, opens today and expands the James Thurber-E. B. White fables about the Everlasting War Between the Sexes to the War Between, Among, About and Throughout the Sexes. In some respects, it is a loose sequel to his 1998 film, "Happiness," but it certainly works as a character-driven story of its own. Part comedy, part tragedy, part history, part satire, part deeply questioning, it leaves one mulling over a brilliant curtain line.

The cast of solid performers is led by Joy (Shirley Henderson, who was Moaning Myrtle in the Harry Potter movies), a mousy young woman who seems antithetical to her name, and her two elder sisters, Helen (Ally Sheedy) and Trish (Allison Janney, who seems to be in everything this year).

Helen has left the family behind to become a successful Hollywood screenwriter. Trish, whose former husband is a jailed pedophile, moved from New Jersey to a Florida that is painfully bright. Her older son, Billy (Chris Marquette) is in college; the younger, Timmy (Dylan Riley Snyder, his face holding a Guinness-sized crop of freckles), is preparing for his Bar Mitzvah; and the daughter, Chloe (Emma Hinz), takes karaoke lessons and shows her skill to visitors. Joy was married to a man with sexual problems, but she's so lost she will never find her way home, no matter how many crumbs she leaves along the way.

There are men, too, with problems that make the women appear to epitomize normalcy. Several, like Paul Reubens and Michael Kenneth Williams, appear as ghosts. Michael Lerner is Harvey, who is courting Trish. He's a Jewish Republican who supports Bush and McCain because they support Israel, and has a son (Rich Pecci) who redefines the word "dork". Ciarin Hinds, as Trish's former husband, is released on parole and wanders into a one-night stand with Charlotte Rampling, a perfect example of a cougar.

Solondz has created a large number of unhappy people who are familiar to all of us. Only occasionally do they slide into caricature. Sometimes they are very funny as they seek some sort of happiness, but it breaks when they touch it.

Timmy, caught in that oh-so-painful area between childhood and adulthood (or is it adultery?), tries to get some answers, but neither Janney nor Lerner are able to provide ones that they can understand, so there is no way that a 12-year-old boy can, which leaves him saying to Lerner, "I don't care about freedom and democracy. I just want my father."

Love During Wartime opens today at the Tivoli

-Joe

Cairo Time

People who like to drive in heavy traffic, or walk in busy cities as cars swarm by, will have some fun at "Cairo Time," which opens here today. So will viewers who feel a tingle of romance or desire when they think of Cairo, or the Pyramids, or the Nile.

Toronto-based Ruba Nedda wrote and directed this love poem to a city and a feeling, and the views of Cairo and the surrounding countryside are spectacular. But the story of an American woman (Patricia Clarkson) who flies to Egypt to meet her husband, on assignment in Gaza for his employer, the United Nations, is so slow as to be practically non-existent.

Juliette (Clarkson), on her first visit to Cairo, is met at the airport by Tareq (Alexander Siddig), her husband's assistant. Hubby has been delayed and no one knows how long he will be remaining in Gaza. Women don't go wandering on their own in this teeming city of 18 million people, and Tareq offers to be a guide. He does an excellent job, aided by Luc Montpellier, the director of photography, whose camera work, suffused in golden tones, makes the beautiful, mysterious city look even more beautiful and mysterious.

Clarkson, a fine actress, shows the frustration of being alone without pandering to a feeling like loneliness; after all, she's a diplomat"s wife (maybe a spy's wife) and accustomed to changing plans on a moment's notice. In a nice touch that shows exactly what Juliette is like, she won't accompany Tareq to the Pyramids because she has promised to make her first visit to them with her husband. Nedda directs with a lovely touch, obviously enjoying Cairo as much as her audience will, and she lets pedestrians provide some humor in a film that desperately needs more dramatic tension than can be provided by someone jaywalking.

"Cairo Time" opens today at the Plaza Frontenac

-Joe

Cleanflix

 

It's tough to battle the Establishment, whether your cause is good, bad or somewhere in the middle, and Hollywood sure showed those Mormons in "Cleanflix," a documentary about movie content in Utah which headlines the Webster University Film Series today through Sunday. There are gray philosophical, political, moral and legal areas everywhere in the film, written and directed by Andrew James and Joshua Ligari, and while it seems that the filmmakers have law on their side, one can argue a lot.

Everything began when Ray Lines, a Mormon from Utah, learned to edit DVDs and began sanitizing the movies he was renting and selling from his shop. Since R-rated films are anathema to Mormons, Lines saw himself with a chance to do good and do well at the same time. He began re-editing completed films, deleting all the sex and extreme violence and bad language that had brought the rating. Some of the films may have been only 20 minutes long when he finished, but they were properly cleansed for Mormon eyes and ears. Business boomed at his little shop.

Of course he was violating copyright laws but that didn't matter--not to him, anyway. But it did matter to writers and directors and producers and HOLLYWOOD, as the giant sign in L.A. says, and the Establishment went after Lines and the Cleanfix president, Allan Erb. Daniel Thompson, a shop owner who loved being in the center of the controversy, spoke early, often and loudly to television cameras, and Robert Perry, a burly biker who owned a store (or a franchise, the movie never is clear on that point), also became a media favorite.

Neil LaBute, better known as a writer, and director Steven Soderbergh spoke for the writers and filmmakers, who secured an injunction that the censors ignored. A majority of Utahns agreed with them.

As a writer, I was immediately on the side of the writers, but the Cleanflix supporters suggested a compromise. They would accept the slightly bowdlerized versions of movies that are shown on airlines. Hollywood refused. Why, I wondered. Of course, the number of films shown on flights is minuscule compared to the overall production, which would have opened the argument about censorship once again. But I like arguments.

I liked "Cleanflix," too.

Cleanflix opens today at the Winifred Moore Auditorium on the Webster University campus and will be repeated tomorrow and Sunday, starting at 7:30 p.m.

-Joe

Mojo Tapas Restaurant and Bar

It's not the same old/same old for South Grand. Mojo Tapas Restaurant and Bar offers some serious contemporary cooking delivered mostly tapas-style in the midst of the neighborhood's ethnic restaurants. The space that formerly held Erato has been re-thought and re-painted, and chef-owner Eric Erhard brings the new to the kitchen, too. And wonder of wonders, the kitchen is open until 11 p.m. What a good neighborhood in which to do that. On a quiet weeknight, we saw folks arriving for food at almost 10 o'clock. Certainly a sign of civilization!

The menu ambles through soup and salads, spends a great deal of time on tapas, and, for those determined to eat 'Murrican Style, offers three sandwiches and two entrees. We skipped the latter items; if a menu is that focused on something, the house must believe in its ability, and our general philosophy is to allow a restaurant to give us its best shot.

And so a cup of cool, coarsely ground yellow-tomato gazpacho arrived, nicely tart, a little spicy, perfect for this weather. It was followed closely by more; the night was quiet and the kitchen was working quickly. Since we'd ordered several things, they all arrived more or less at once. That's not a complaint. In traditional restaurants, we like courses to arrive in order, but we're fine with small-plates restaurants sending things out as they're ready. Mussels seasoned with cider, fennel and bacon, were excellent, the fennel and bacon working together for a new and very pleasant combination. Pork empanadas, deep-fried rather than baked, were filled with succulent roast pork, and a little note of cumin, surrounded by an orange sauce with notes of oregano and garlic, a good contrast.

Brandade, or fish cakes made of salt cod and mashed potatoes, always are much milder than they sound, and were pretty much an excuse to eat lots of the orange-chive tartar sauce. They were smooth and not unpleasant, but not as emphatically seasoned as much of what came across the table. On the other hand, the lamb sliders were stunning. Hot and fresh and juicy, they arrived wearing a little pepper jack cheese and some apricot mustard, the sweet-hot contrasting beautifully with the meat. The lamb-reluctant might be persuaded by one of these babes.

The menu features what it calls Mojo on a Stick (and “mojo,” by the way, is pronounced moe-joe); from that list, a shrimp skewer proved to be another remarkable dish. Two skewers, a half-dozen shrimp, tail on, had been perfectly grilled with a note of char, the flesh just cooked through and not a second longer. The sauce dribbled over them and the rice below was coconut and lime, with a faint aura of Thai curry, a killer sauce worth eating with a spoon. A plate of delicious sausage offered Italian, strongly laced with fennel; andouille, red and spicy; and chorizo. This was the Spanish-style chorizo, not the coarse-ground Mexican style, and it was especially excellent. We seldom find that one on a local menu, and we particularly appreciate it. That small dish over on the side? A house-made pineapple chutney, a great contrast to all that spicy pork.

Andouille reappeared in what's termed a side dish, a hash of andouille and sweet potatoes, a nice contrast of taste and textures, all tied together with plenty of onion. (We can see this on a brunch plate with a couple of eggs.)

There's a fruit crisp du jour on the dessert menu, and we hit on mango-strawberry night. Don't expect fruit with a brown sugar-butter-maybe-oatmeal-or-nuts topping. The closest approximation is what some kitchens call a cobbler, a sort of cake batter with lots and lots of fruit, served hot, with some of the brown sugar mixture on top. Having said all that, it was very tasty, a lot more mango than strawberry (did you know this was mango season? It is, and pineapple, too).

Great service, as well, from a guy who knew the menu well and explained it with style and grace while juggling lots of tables, both inside and out. In addition, this is a bar that makes cocktails with oomph; we tried a margarita and a caipirinha and both arrived in properly serious mode.

Mojo Tapas Restaurant and Bar

3117 S. Grand Blvd.

314-865-0500

http://www.mojorestaurantstl.com

Lunch Mon.-Fri, Dinner Mon.-Sat

Credit cards: Yes

Wheelchair access: Good

Smoking: No

Tapas, etc.:$4-$10

New York Week 2010, Part 2

  A bargain in midtown Manhattan? Astonishing but true, and pretty darn tasty as well. (Cheap is easy; cheap and good is hard.) Le Relais de Venise is one of six restaurants, the original in Paris, two in London, one each in Barcelona, Bahrain and now on Lexington Avenue at 52nd Street. The premise and the menu are very simple. One meal is served for a fixed price. Drinks, dessert and cheese are extra. But for $24, a diner receives a green salad, slices of an entrecote steak with sauce, and fries.

Yes, $24. For the same price, vegetarians miss the steak but receive dessert and a choice of cheeses. And for the steak and fries, or, more properly, frites, there are seconds if desired. Yes, seconds. In Manhattan. Perhaps we should have warned you to read this sitting down.

The room itself is more open than the usual French restaurant in New York, brasserie rather than bistro, with waitresses in black who know their business and move like they're shot out of a circus cannon. Sam Sifton in the New York Times advised that if you're interested in a leisurely meal, order a drink or wine before you order your food, and that's what we inadvertently did with our New Yorker pal who'd been there before and put her stamp of approval on the evening. The crowd was almost entirely locals, including a table of big guys who clearly knew the drill and politely didn't clean out the kitchen before leaving.

The salad is more than pleasant, a creamy vinaigrette on good greens, tossed before arrival, but not much before, leaving the salad glowing and unwilted. The walnuts add a little crunch and their own mild flavor.

But what about the beef? That's what everyone wants to know. First of all, it's American beef; those who have been exposed to French beef will smile. The meat arrives sliced and with a mysterious sauce whose ingredients have been the subject of much conjecture. Mustard, for sure, almost certainly some butter and shallots; probably some tarragon. Beyond that we will not go. It's not prime beef, not at these prices, but it's a far cry from the old Tad's Steaks in Times Square where inexpensive beef was definitely beef, but full of gristle and fat. Lots of excellent flavor, and as tender as can reasonably be expected. An entrecote, technically speaking, is usually a boneless, trimmed version of a rib steak. And the frites? Oh, my. Killer frites, crisp and hot and really excellent, hard to resist an overdose.

For those who have inspected the dessert cart while waited to be seated, self-control will be easier. Some classic French choices, like crème brulee, Mont-Blanc and vacherin, plus several ice cream choices and a couple of cakes. Also profiteroles, which we cannot resist, and these were classic, fresh and crisp outside, with a good chocolate sauce drizzled over the pastry and its ice cream filling.

For a New Yorker used to walking in the city, this is walking distance to the Theater District. For the rest of us, if a curtain is looming, hail a cab. Eating early may be an advantage; the restaurant doesn't take reservations, but on a summer Saturday night, we walked directly to a table.

No romantic walks along the Seine afterward, but you can't have everything.

Le Relais de Venise

590 Lexington Avenue, New York

212-758-3989

www.relaisdevenise.com

Lunch & Dinner daily

Credit cards: Yes

Wheelchair access: Good

Smoking: No

Entrees: $24

 

New York Week, 2010, Part 1

Great N.Y. Noodle Town is practically a dive. When we say it's steamy, we're talking about what happens when the kitchen door opens, not as a seduction site. It's on the famed New York Bowery, in the shadow of the Manhattan Bridge, brightly lit, jammed with tables one shares with goodness knows who (but it could be a James Beard award winner on a night off) and generally the sort of place that hasn't changed much since, oh, the Truman administration. That includes the lack of a credit card machine, so take cash.

Not that you'll need much. Even with the high-ticket items, this is an inexpensive restaurant, especially for New York, even for St. Louis, more so when prices include tax. Service is appropriately frantic when things are busy, and English is the second language for every employee we came across, but many of them are pretty proficient at dealing with customers. Or else they call someone more proficient than they. More experienced diners sometimes chip in with advice.

It's a huge menu, too, plus specials on a chalk board, and enough variety for the most conservative or most experimental visitor. Shrimp, fish, vegetable and pork dumplings, Singapore noodles, Cantonese noodles, salt-baked frog, dozens of vegetarian dishes and, for those seeking a familiar name, General Tso dropped by and left a message on the chicken.

Not surprisingly, this is a place with roast ducks and strips of barbecued pork hanging in the window, a clue about what to order. And sure enough, our plate of roast pork over rice was excellent, with what looks like soy sauce but actually is laced with ginger, available to kick things up a little. We had hoped for the suckling pig, a dish that's much lauded, but the last plate of it was snatched up a few minutes before we ordered. That had been preceded by an order of duck rolls, crisp and greaseless, with a filling that was most remarkable for what wasn't inside. Practically no cabbage and celery but greens, shredded and cooked with dabs of more duck, an excellent version.

And then there were the soft-shelled crabs. The exemplary soft-shelled crabs. An order of three, deep-fried in a batter that was so light as to hardly be there, moist enough that they had to be eaten leaning over the table, was so good we flagged down our speeding waiter to order another round. A few green onions sprinkled over as garnish but other than that, the dish was utterly pristine in its simplicity.

Great people-watching while you eat, a cross-section of eager eaters, many of whom are willing to share their knowledge of the menu, and lots of them do swear by the noodles here. But until we can drop by every couple of weeks, we'll go for the crabs and pork, and maybe the duck. Open until 4 a.m., and we can imagine what the crowd is like at that hour.

Great N.Y. Noodletown

28 1/2 Bowery, New York

212-349-0923

Breakfast, Lunch & Dinner daily (open until 4 a.m.)

Credit cards: No

Wheelchair access: No

Smoking: No

Entrees: $6-$16

The Village Bar

We reviewed The Village Bar for St. Louis Magazine online. You can read it here.