St. Louis Eats and Drinks

West End Grill & Pub

Theater buffs already have discovered the West End Grill & Pub. It’s right next door to the Gaslight Theater, a couple of blocks south of the late, lamented and never-to-be-replicated Gaslight Square. In fact, a double door connects pub and theater, so the elements are not a factor. At intermission, theatergoers use the pub as a lobby and an opportunity to check the World Series or football action. Neighborhood folks have discovered it, too, with the pleasant bar as a watering hole for locals. Walls of the bar and adjoining dining room bask in framed theater programs, most of which are autographed, and mural-sized photo-montages of mid-century St. Louis entertainment, from Evelyn West and her $50,000 Treasure Chest to views of musicians from the Square or DeBaliviere Strip. They’re fine sources of conversation and speculation.

It’s nice that the restaurant already has become used to the near-frantic pace of the rush before theater, which speaks to an experienced staff in the front of the house and the kitchen. We watched them go from nearly empty to full throttle in the space of half an hour. On the other hand, the full menu, according to the web site, is available until 11 p.m. every night, so a leisurely dinner is possible after the curtain is up, after the play or when the theater is between engagements.

Lots of appetizers and other starters, relatively few from the oh-that-again school. Olive fritters are whole olives in a spicy coating, nicely salty-spicy, not greasy despite the swim in hot fat and the sort of dish that could probably soak up a fair amount of alcohol. Vegan black bean soup speaks of tomato and cumin and, we suspect, chipotle chiles for its smokiness, although it isn’t fiery with chile peppers. Very reminiscent of chili, we thought it pretty good, although others found it remarkably tasty. Caesar salad has a creamy dressing that shows more cucumber than anchovy, but it’s full-flavored, the lettuce crisp, the grilled chicken we put atop it not overcooked. Very crunchy polenta fries  (shown)are more about texture than taste, but come with a boursin cheese dip that was quite nice and a savory tomato jam that could have used a more forthright approach to seasoning.

A whole boned trout arrives topped with a creme fraiche sauce that seemed to have just a little horseradish in it, to raise the tang factor. Sweet and mild (and not overcooked), it was accompanied by potato hash that excelled, partly because it included a little corn and roasted minced poblano pepper. Sweet potato gnocchi and a fat pork chop were a delight, the pork perfectly cooked, still slightly pink inside, juicy and tender. The gnocchi were firm but not gummy and tasted–well, yammy. We’ve had too much risotto around town that’s really just rice with sauce. The West End’s asparagus risotto that accompanies grilled shrimp is about the closest we’ve found to The Real Thing for a good while. Pleasantly creamy, the rice very close to al dente and far from mush, the asparagus pencil-thin and slightly crunchy, but with fine vegetable flavor. Orange butter sauce accompanies it and adds a grace note here and there, and the shrimp is not cooked to death, too easy to do on a blazing grill.

The wine list is short, but has some pleasing values in both reds and whites, with most of the bottles also available by the glass.

The most unusual dessert is the peanut butter and banana toasted ravioli, served with coffee ice cream. Warning: The interior of these guys is really hot and runny. If peanut butter and banana is your thing, Elvis, you’ll be delighted with these. And let us warn you, on two other occasions we had cinnamon ice cream that the server said was coffee, the sole glitch in otherwise-good service. Paradise chocolate cake? Devils food-ish, it’s moist and capped with a dense, dark ganache-style icing and served with excellent raspberry-chocolate chip ice cream, a fine, fine combination. A toasted almond cream cake was fresh and moist, but not so satisfying as the chocolate, not so exotic as the ravioli.

Brunch runs from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. on Sundays. The menu here, too, shows some interesting things, like gamblers eggs, for instance. On inquiry, they reportedly had potatoes, onions and chorizo sausage mixed with the scrambled eggs. They were tasty enough, although we found nary a trace of chorizo. They came with house potatoes, fried dice with plenty of onions, although they were barely warm on arrival. No toast, no English muffins–none on the menu. Johnny cakes, the traditional New England (especially Rhode Island) cornmeal pancakes, are tasty but arrive with no butter, one small blister pack of commercial syrup and–a side of the house potatoes. Johnny cakes cause much argument among aficionados, so we will quickly point out that these are the relatively thick sort, rather than the thin, lacy kind, but are corny and good, requiring very little of the syrup to chase them down. An omelet of mushrooms, avocado and tomato had no discernible tomato, but cheese snuck in there. However, it was excellent, perfectly cooked and clearly whisked out of the pan and onto the table.

There are plenty of lunch items on the menu, too, like a salmon salad and a prosciutto-and-egg sandwich that sounds like the perfect brunch hybrid. Next time. Excellent coffee, thanks, and a full selection of desserts if there’s still room.

West End Grill & Pub

354 N. Boyle Ave.

314-531-4607

Lunch & Dinner daily, Brunch Sun.

Credit cards: All major

Wheelchair access: Poor

Smoking: Yes

Bobo Noodle House

Small and stylish is the immediate impression at Bobo Noodle, tucked into a New York-narrow space in a new building across the street from the campus of Washington University. Zoe Houk who's been opening and running restaurants around town for more years than her looks would have anyone believe, has created a spot that blends noodle traditions from all over Asia into casual American Modern cuisine.

And "small" is an important word. Seating fewer than 30, the long, narrow space seems larger because of some nice visual tricks with curves. And don't miss the light fixtures, featuring dozens of pieces of paper that flutter with any breath of air and offer fortune cookie-style messages to tall diners.

The menu is rather short, but the skilll of chef Ny Vongsaly, who has worked with Houk at Café Zoe and I Fratellini, keeps it fresh and appealing, presenting food that tastes as good as it looks, arranged on complementary china.

Among the appetizers, our favorite was the Asian barbecued spareribs, a half-dozen meaty guys, much more moist than the usual Chinese restaurant ribs, almost falling off the bone, and with just enough glaze to add flavor but not leave the feeling they'd been dipped in corn syrup. And the seared salt shrimp (shown below) were very close behind on our scale. The shrimp are quickly cooked in their shells, which crisp to the consistency of soft-shell crab. Often this dish is made with shrimp whose shells just become tough and splintery, unpleasant to eat, but these little fellers had such soft outsides that chomping on them, shell and all, worked perfectly. Lots of flavor remained from that flash-frying, nicely complemented by a mango-yogurt sauce, sweet and cool with the shrimp, zippier when tasted on its own.

Crispy pork spring rolls were meaty and un-greasy but didn't seem particularly remarkable until they were dipped into the accompanying sauce, which seemed to be lime juice-laced soy sauce, the acidity adding a good bounce. The shrimp summer roll was low on shrimp and needed its Vietnamese-style dipping sauce, the bright orange one called nuoc cham, which blends sweet/sour/fish sauce/pepper into a sparkling, tingling delight.

Main courses are listed as "Pho" or "Wok/Grill." A non-traditional rendition of pho ("soup" in Vietnamese) featured chicken and green curry, with delicious slices of slender Chinese eggplant, and some shiitake mushrooms, along with thin rice noodles. The green curry is Thai-style, and quite spicy, the way we like it; the chicken was white meat and not overcooked. All in all, quite tasty and leaving a pleasant tingle on the tongue. Lemon grass beef was four or five good-sized slices of very tender beef, still a little pink inside after their grilling, difficult to eat with the chopsticks that come from a container on the table (smaller pieces of beef would solve that nicely), but quite tasty aside from oversaltiness. They sat atop a cucumber salad that was long julienne strands, still a little crunchy, and cool in a light coat of tart dressing and a little red pepper, and the house sesame noodles, also chilled. This is not the peanut butter-based sauce often seen on fettucine-sized noodles about town, but rather fine threads of noodle in a soy sauce dressing.

We paid special attention to one of the two desserts, because Bobo was out of the other, a chocolate-dipped almond macaroon. Two chocolate cookies from the estimable Pat Rutherford-Pettine of Sugaree are the sandwich holding coconut ice cream from Quezel's Ron Ryan. The chewy cookies have little chocolate chips in them, the coconut ice cream is silken. How tasty are these? We could eat several a day if we could persuade Zoe to lob them into our car as we drove by.

There's wine and beer, plus a selection of teas. We tried a white peony and a hibiscus. The former, though pleasant and flowery, was too delicate to go with the big flavors of the meal; the fruitiness of the hibiscus did better. Youthful servers are pleasant and eager. The presence of the boss kept them from mentioning their favorites or expanding on her descriptions, which covered all the angles.

A large treat from a small place.

Bobo Noodle House
278 N. Skinker Blvd
314-863-7373 www.bobonoodle.com
Lunch & Dinner Mon.-Sat. Credit cards: All major
Wheelchair access: Satisfactory for rather tight quarters
Smoking: No
Entrees: $8-$12

The Original Pancake House

Our friends know we’re not much on chain restaurants. But we try not to be narrow-minded, and when we find an exception to the boredom of corporate food, we speak right up. And speaking of "up," it’s time to rise and shine to have breakfast, or brunch, or breakfast-for-lunch, at the Original Pancake House. The food is good enough that you forget you’re on the parking lot of what seems like the world’s longest strip mall.

The decor is Northwest ski lodge, and the servers fly around like they’re on skates. It’s a big place, but on weekends, there’s always a line of folks who have given the hostess their name and await a table. If time is important, we point out that seating at the counter is first-come, first-served. That’s where we like to sit. There’s a view into the kitchen via the area where the orders come up. And there’s also a good look at the delightful machine that provides the orange juice. We first spotted these in a little café in Barcelona. Whole oranges are piled in a bin on top of the machine. When it’s turned on, the oranges, one at a time, roll down a chute, are sliced in half and squeezed while the rinds disappear into the trash. The juice flows into a container that awaits. 

We wish we could say the juice is squeezed to order. But no, it goes into carafes that sit in ice, awaiting a juice order. Orange juice, like wine, changes on standing, as it’s exposed to air, and these carafes have lids, but it isn’t quite the same. One day, when it ’s really quiet, we may ask for a squeeze-to-order glass. Still, it beats the supermarket stuff.

Good coffee, and real cream. The server even leaves room in the cup if you’ve said "yes" to her inquiry about whether you want it, and fills the "no, thanks" cups a little fuller.

The piece de resistance here is the apple pancake. About nine inches across and a couple of inches high, it’s oven-baked, the apples on the bottom of the pan lolling about in a brown sugar and cinnamon sauce. An eggy batter is poured over that, the whole thing popped in the oven, and 20 minutes later, there it is, gorgeous brown bottom up, steaming and smiling. This is a lot of food, no matter how delicious it is, with its tender interior, and unless you’re in a large group with volunteers to "help," plan on taking half home for tomorrow’s breakfast. We’ve had apple pancakes before, but none so pleasing as this. We think they have the apple part right; unlike our other experiences, the fruit is nicely tart to contrast with the sweetness of the sugar.

Almost as impressive-looking but possibly less dangerous calorically is the Dutch baby, an oven pancake that’s even taller, but fluffier and sunken in the middle. Heralded by a stand with whipped butter, powdered sugar and lemon wedges, it arrives dusted with even more powdered sugar, its edges crispy and deeply browned, the center tender. We found the butter superfluous; lemon and powdered sugar, like traditional French crepes, are a perfectly marvelous combination. On another visit, we’d like to try it with some fruit inside.

We tried the sourdough pancakes, and were impressed by their delicacy. Sourdough always makes us think of rough-and-tumble Gold Rush times, and the crusty, chewy bread that descended from those days. These were almost crepe-like in their thinness and consistency. It’s real butter, although it’s pancake syrup, not real maple syrup, if that’s a concern.

Away from the world of pancakes, 11 omelets are offered, and they, like the apple pancake and Dutch baby are also 20-minute productions, baked in seemingly the same pans and about the same dimensions. First-rate bacon is thick and crisp, a pleasure. And corned beef hash is definitely not the stuff from a can, but meatier, with coarse-ground kosher corned beef, potatoes, onions and cream. It’s very moist and full of flavor, and comes with a side of potato pancakes. We’d heard good things about their hash browns, though, and asked for them instead.

Oh, my. They may look like those standard frozen shreds, but they’re cooked with a lot of crispy edges, then properly seasoned with a generous amount of onion and black pepper to become absolutely addictive.

A fine breakfast, and what does it matter if you’re eating breakfast at 1 p.m.?

The Original Pancake House

17000 Chesterfield Airport Rd., Chesterfield

636-536-4044

originalpancakehouse.com

Breakfast & Lunch Tues.-Sun.

Credit cards: All major

Wheelchair access: Good

Smoking: No

$6-$11

What To Do With A Chuck Roast

The days dwindle down, and so do the budgets. Not only is the weather cooler and the dark coming earlier, but all of us also seem more interested in saving our pennies. Cooking at home, of course, is one of the best ways to do that, but there are lots of folks who are just entering the world of budget cookery.

I lived in the tight-budget world for many, many years. One of the things I learned is respect for the seemingly lesser cuts of meat. Time to start paying attention to those weekly supermarket ads. I’ve been surprised how many younger cooks have no idea of what to do with chuck roast. You’ll see it, in different parts of the country, as arm roast or blade roast, but it’s the same cut of beef, more or less, its rich, flavorful meat marbled with fat.

Yes, fat. Don’t worry; we’ll discard it in the process of the recipe. This is basically a pot roast to shred and use as filling for tacos, burritos, enchiladas, or even omelets. I first came across it as something to go into scrambled eggs for breakfast burritos.

About the ingredients: Use a brisket instead of a chuck roast, if you wish. The size of the roast isn’t a matter of critical importance. Four pounds is fine, you’ll cook it a little longer. Just make sure you have a lidded dish that will hold the meat. I cook this in the oven, but you can let it simmer on top of the stove. (The cooking time will be about the same.) And if you’ve wondered why there are tomato paste also comes in tubes, this recipe is a good example.

On the subject of chiles, fresh ones are a lot easier to buy than they once were. I like two Anaheims, which are largish and relatively mild, and a couple of jalapenos or the small, intense serranos. You can always crank the heat up later, so err on the side of mild if you’re hesitant. The ground chiles can be harder to come by. This is not chili powder, although if I had nothing else, I’d use it. It’s also not cayenne pepper or red pepper flakes. Better to look for ground chiles at some place like La Tropicana or Global Market. You can also use dried chiles, the tops torn off, seeds shaken out, the peppers torn up and tossed into the spice grinder. Last winter I bought a ristra, or string of chiles at a roadside stand outside of Tucson, Ariz., and used a couple of those. I have no idea of what the variety of chile is, but the smell in the grinder was almost flowery, although there’s a fair kick to them.

Beef Filling for Tacos

1 3-lb. Chuck roast or beef brisket

1 Tbs. + 1 Tbs. cooking oil

2 Tbs. tomato paste

1 Tbs. ground chile

2 cloves garlic, finely minced or put through a press

3 bay leaves

water

1/2 c. chopped onion

1 med ium tomato, diced

4 fresh chiles, hot and/or mild, seeded and chopped

salt to taste

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Choose a covered Dutch oven-type pot and heat it over medium-high heat. When the pot is hot, add the oil, and let it heat until it shimmers. Add the chuck roast and let it brown, first on one side, then on the other. Smear the tomato paste on the browned side of the meat, sprinkle on the garlic and add enough hot tap water to barely cover the meat. Add the bay leaves and cover the pan. No, we’re not adding salt now.

When the meat is quite tender, remove the pan from the oven and set it aside to cool. Take the meat out of the liquid when it’s cool enough to handle, but if you let it get quite cold, it becomes harder to shred.

Some people use two forks to shred meat, but I just wash my hands really well and start breaking it up, discarding fat and connective tissue. Transfer the shredded meat to a separate bowl. You may want to moisten it a little with the broth remaining in the pan. Save what broth you don’t use, and later freeze it for soup night or making risotto.

Heat a tablespoonful of oil in a skillet over medium-high heat. Add the chopped onion and cook until it’s translucent, stirring occasionally. Stir in the chopped chiles and tomatoes and cook another 3-4 minutes. Then stir in the shredded beef and cook, stirring often, until everything is hot. Taste for seasoning. More salt? Maybe more of the cooking liquid? (Sometimes I end up using it all.)

That’s it. What you do with it now is up to you. Serves about 6, but that depends, of course, on how generously you stuff a burrito and what else you put into it.

-Ann

Eau Bistro

 Eau is a real dining room. You know–the old-fashioned concept that came before "the dining experience," Broadway set designers providing interior decor, and servers in costumes. It’s spacious, with high ceilings and large C-shaped booths that are slightly elevated to give a better view of the room. And these days, it’s fairly quiet, as restaurants go, a component of comfort about which we get a ton of comments.

However, once people figure out what’s happened there, that may change. Brian Hale, the chef who had been at the stove of Monarch, has moved to Eau, and the Chase, as executive chef, in charge of all its kitchens. His touch on the menu is already apparent. Happily, he’s kept the excellent Marie-Anne Perez as chef de cuisine, second in command. That adds up to an evening of interesting food, nearly all of it wonderful.

In this day of foreshortened bread baskets due to rising food costs (and that definitely includes flour), it was great to see biscuits, rolls and a particularly delightful item that we can only describe as a pretzel mini-baguette. Slightly smaller than a hot dog bun, it, like the rest, arrived warm. Yes, real pretzel dough, its dark-brown toothsome exterior sprinkled with a little coarse salt, the chewy interior just right. In less refined surroundings, it might make certain folks think of some nacho cheese for a dip.

We’re not sure how much longer the corn ravioli will be on the menu, considering seasonality, but if it’s there, run, don’t walk. Housemade pasta, still al dente, is filled with corn, shallots, a little spinach and some boursin cheese, sauced in a white-wine tomato sauce and topped with locally grown mushrooms, looking much like enoki mushrooms, but described as velvet pioppinis on the menu. It’s an exemplary dish, and would make a swell vegetarian entree, too, just in case the sweet potato gnocchi or celeriac polenta main courses don’t tempt.

The poached lobster appetizer stars half a small tail and a claw, centered on a long plate and nestled between a cylinder of diced beet topped with diced mango, all in a vinagrette, and a vanilla-laced champagne aspic of crabmeat, another cylinder about the diameter of a half-dollar. Good lobster, to be sure, but the biggest surprise was how well beet and mango go together on the palate. As to the aspic, the seeming sweetness from the vanilla is a surprise, but it rose from just okay to just fine with a smidge of the sriracha, or hot sauce, that lay in a comma-shaped swirl on the plate, its heat bouncing off the other components in a fine fandango.

Not ordering the short ribs ( a Hale specialty at his previous kitchen), and even passing up skate wing with lobster-mushroom risotto, wasn’t easy. But the menu lured us in other directions. The name pork belly seems to make some people shudder. But every time they’ve nibbled a strip of bacon, they’ve been eating pork belly. And just as some bacon is quite lean, so is some pork belly, and that’s just what we got. Yes, the meat is soft and unctuous, braised gently and then given a final browning to crisp up the outside. Rich? Oh, yeah. But the richness was cut by roasted shredded brussels sprouts, their slight bitterness a counterpoint, and so were the roasted tomatoes that also topped off the pork. It sat on a cake of coarse-ground grits seasoned with white cheddar cheese, the whole thing sauced with a little gravy made from the pan juices. Blissful. Hale’s firm belief that vegetables are as interesting as meat and fish shows well here.

Slices of venison, ruddy-rare, were sauced with a veal reduction flavored with port and black currant juice, a rich, slightly tart counterpoint to the lean, flavorful meat. Alongside was a generous slab of what could easily be the platonic ideal of a potato gratin. The potatoes were neither mushy nor undercooked, a hint of either onion or garlic, rich cheese, a touch of truffle, just wondrous.

Sometimes meals leave you feeling like you don’t even want to think about dessert. But we had paced ourselves, realizing that the dessert options were going to be worth exploring–and we were right. Two delicious choices, one very sophisticated and another perhaps more homey than the dessert chef might have realized, popped up. A chocolate creme brulee had been unmolded and served with a vanilla custard sauce. One bite of the creamy custard, and Ann had a flashback to childhood. Chocolate pudding, not the instant, water-flavored stuff that seems to be what’s around these days, was the pleasure of a lot of kids. If we ate the same My-T-Fine now, even made with that sinful whole milk, it might not taste the same to us. But, my goodness, this creme brulee, whose caramelized sugar crust was on the bottom, certainly seemed to taste like that, smooth, chocolate-y and rich.

"Chibouste" isn’t a word often seen on local dessert menus. It refers to a custard that’s lightened with whipped cream or beaten egg whites and perhaps some gelatin. Here we had a lemon chibouste, light in texture, full in flavor, sauced with a passion fruit puree punctuated by a warm cookie. Great combination of temperatures, textures and flavors, a sophisticated, happy counterpoint to the rich chocolate of the brulee.

 

The elegant wine list is large and with a great deal of range, from bottles at $25-$35 to selections that go well into three figures. Also praiseworthy is a by-the-glass list that has such delicacies as a real French Burgundy, from Macon, in a generous pour, at $10. The grape is the same, but the difference between a French Burgundy, lean and stylish, and an over-oaked, buttery California Chardonnay is wider than the Atlantic Ocean. A California Cabernet Sauvignon and a Spanish Cava sparkling wine also were tasty, though the bubble in the Cava was beginning to fade.

Service runs smoothly, large groups are accommodated without blinking an eye, and folks drift in from Café Eau across the hall to check game scores on the television at the bar, where someone had set the focus and the volume so that it did not impinge on those who were eating and having conversations. Just another night in a real dining room.

Eau Bistro

The Chase Park Plaza

212 N. Kingshighway

314-454-9000

http://www.chaseparkplaza.com/dining/eaubistro.phtml

Credit cards: All major

Wheelchair access: Good

Smoking: Yes

Entrees: $18-$36

Kitchenware

Cost Plus World Market and I go way back to my first trip to San Francisco, when it was a higgledy-piggledy warren of assorted interesting, inexpensive stuff. At that point, it was like an immense version of Pier One. Nowadays Pier One has decided to compete with Pottery Barn, another store that began at what we’d now call Ikea prices, and lost its charm. But World Market, as the store now encourages us to call it, still reminds me of walking into Pier One in the old days, with the feeling of "Oh, wow, I didn’t know I wanted one of those!" Beyond the tableware, baskets, cushions and furniture, they carry a pretty decent selection of reasonably priced wine and some interesting specialty food items, like curry-cooking sauces, jams, snacks, chocolate and pasta. As the holidays come nearer, remember that it’s a good place for stocking stuffers for adults. (Kids, too, but perhaps not quite as much.)

Poking around in the kitchenware section, I found a couple of striking things. One, as much for the visuals as the usefulness, is a series of measuring jugs. (There’s a bowl, also.) The smaller one is $5.99, the larger $7.99. The high sides make me think that it would work well for something that would be mixed by a stick blender. 

But the most interesting item was this grinder-grater. There are three pieces: The white ceramic top layer is a half-circle with nubbins on it for grating smaller amounts of garlic, onion or ginger.

 

The half-circle fits on top of a bowl whose interior has a ridged, coarse surface.

The third piece is a wooden pestle. Some mortars and pestles are lovely but utterly ineffective because the ingredients slide and bounce around as the cook is trying to mash them up. Won’t happen here with a bowl like this. All this is $7.99, more than reasonable. And it’s a lot easier to clean than taking apart a food processor.

-Ann

Cost Plus World Market

24 Brentwood Promenade Court, Brentwood

314-918-7800

3628 S. Lindbergh Blvd., Sunset Hills

314-821-4488

238 THF Blvd, Chesterfield

636-728-0011

http://www.www.worldmarket.com

Book: "Eating St. Louis"

Fair warning: Page 16 of Patricia Corrigan’s new book, "Eating St. Louis," is blue with white type, and the entire page is devoted to a sketch of us, complete with picture. That prominence, while appreciated, makes it impossible for us to create a real review of her delightful offering, subtitled "The Gateway City's Unique Food Culture." Joe and Pat worked together at the Post-Dispatch for almost two decades.

The book is a charmer, filled with superior photographs of restaurants and restaurateurs through the years. The recollections and writing are just right to satisfy St. Louisans’ love for nostalgia. Venerable restaurants like Goody-Goody, Tony’s, Medart’s, Riddle’s and Crown Candy; mass feeders like Imo’s, the Pasta House and the St. Louis Bread Company; grocery stores like Moll’s, Schnucks and Dierbergs; watering holes like O’Connell’s, Blueberry Hill and Joe & Charlie’s; farmers’ markets; wineries and breweries all are discussed and remembered, often with interviews of owners, managers and chefs. There’s also a nod to the Doisy College of Health Sciences at St. Louis U., and its Fresh Gatherings Café. The university and Reedy Press are co-publishers.

The photographs are wonderful, a tribute to the Missouri Historical Society, the memorabilia collectors and Corrigan’s picture-chasing ability. Corrigan’s breezy style is front and center, and that’s what the book is – a light-hearted chat over a bar, remembering the good times and the good meals.

However, as he dons his critic’s hat, Joe would like to point out that, as regards his bio in the book, he was a sports writer for the Globe-Democrat in the 1950s before entering public relations with the Football Cardinals in 1961, and that he joined the Post-Dispatch in 1972.

The book goes on sale next week, and signing events include:

Oct. 13: 6-8 p.m., Duff’s, 392 North Euclid Ave. (free)

Oct. 18: 10-11:30 a.m., Ferguson Farmers’ Market (free)

Oct. 21: 7 p.m., Missouri History Museum (free), with appearances by Steve Komorek and Eric Brenner

Nov. 1: 6-9 p.m., Moulin/Vin de Set, 2017 Chouteau Ave. ($25 per person, includes food and drink, samples, a presentation by the author and a $5 off coupon for the purchase of the book. Reservations: 314-241-7799 or www.brownpapertickets.com/event/44134

Nov. 14: 6-9 p.m., Sappington Farmers’ Market (free)

Nov. 22: 11 a.m.- 2 p.m., Plaza Frontenac (free, featuring local bakers)

 

 

Sidney Street Cafe

Kevin Nashan had quite a task. Buying the extremely popular Sidney Street Café in 2003, and becoming the chef, he faced the difficult situation of doing what he wanted to do without alienating the restaurant’s fanatically loyal customer base. And this is St. Louis, where "we’ve always done it like this" is an litany. Five years later, it’s obvious he’s succeeded.

The interior is pretty much unchanged, with brick walls and candles on the tables. We suspect they’ve brightened the lighting in parts of the restaurant, which is a good thing, since it allows folks to admire the food, both theirs and the plates arriving at nearby tables. Food-watching is a hobby just about as good as people-watching. Guests range from a dressed-up couple whose waiter waved good-bye and wished them a happy anniversary, to a long table of business folks to a couple of casually dressed guys attacking large strip steaks. We’ve never quite understood why people think Sidney Street is particularly romantic, but that’s just us.

It is, however, hypnotizing to watch the candle’s first half burn down very quickly, thanks to the constant air circulation. It can feel a little like a challenge–will the meal finish before the candle disappears? Then the dribbled-down wax begins to make the candle fatter and the burn rate slows, and somehow it relaxes the pace of the meal, too.

One of the things that hasn’t changed is the style of the menu. However, the individual chalk board, entrees on one side, appetizers on the other, is available before the server runs through the careful recital of every item, with far more details on method of cooking, saucing, and sides, than could ever fit on the board. This has to be a major task for servers, and we’ve been impressed by staff memory skill. Another constant is the bread basket, with the deep-fried rolls and sweet garlic butter.

Entrees, which range from $20 to $29, include soup or salad. Portions of the soup and salad are reasonably small, and that may be a good thing since the appetizer menu contains some irresistible choices.

"Ham & Egg" reads one chalkboard item. This proves to be a single egg, cooked to have a firm white and a still-somewhat-liquid yolk, then shelled, dredged in crunchy bread crumbs and deep fried. It arrives accompanied by a small square of brioche toast, a few leaves of Swiss chard quickly sauteed and matchsticks of prosciutto, fried until crisp. The creamy warmth of the egg contrasts beautifully with the tartness of the greens and the crunchy saltiness of the cured ham, and the dish simply romps through the mouth. The Deep South Roll is a holdover from the old days, full of chicken, sausage, ham and peppers. Resembling a gigantic egg roll, the crust is thicker than its Asian inspiration, but there’s a lot more filling to hold. A first-rate spicy pepper sauce perked things up, although the roll itself is lighter and far less greasy than it once was. Given the deconstructionist approach to Ham & Egg, it will come as no surprise that the oyster po-boy is four cornmeal-dusted fried oysters, each perched on a small finger of more of that brioche, the traditional mayonnaise, slightly garlicky, used as a glue to hold the brioche pedestals to the plate. A bit of tomato confit and a hit of arugula added color. Small oysters, yes, but full-flavored and not overcooked.

A cup of roasted tomato bisque, the soup du jour, pleased, and a salad of the last of the summer tomatoes, cut up, topped with more greens and a wafer-thin slice of roasted tomato also did well to ave off any possible hunger pangs.  

Rack of lamb, one of our favorite meats, arrived as two large pieces, grilled rare, just as we ordered, flavorful and moist. Surrounded by an apricot sauce laced with Asian seasonings, including a nice dose of ginger, it was absolutely seductive, but then so were the creamy mashed potatoes and buttery spinach. We had pondered the filet of beef, available au poivre, with wasabi, crabmeat or bearnaise sauce, but settled on stuffed pork loin, and what a happy choice that turned out to be. The stuffing consisted of bacon, onion, and other aromatic vegetables, the slices of loin laid out over what the kitchen was calling corn custard, a texture much like very moist mashed potatoes, but full of the rich sweetness of good corn flavor. Pig on pig: What a fine combination, especially when combined with its natural partner, corn.

Desserts move toward the homey. Gooey brown sugar cake tastes like real Grandma food, a simple sponge cupcake, rich with the butter-brown sugar combo that almost makes it butterscotchy, served with an artful smear of berry coulis and an arrangement of red raspberries. Fried apple pies are more handsome than what came out of the ancestral cast-iron skillet, fingers of pastry wrapped around the fruit and deep-fried, dusted with powdered sugar and served with ice cream. Fried dough is nearly always a winner, and this was nice, but we’d have liked a little more fruit flavor to balance the dish.

The wine list is strong, though the by-the-glass list could use a few more. Wine is popular enough that we think upscale restaurants should have at least two of each type. The offerings at Sidney Street are good, but we’d like a little more choice. The bottle range is fine, with good pricing and sufficient variety.

Service at Sidney Street has always been a strong point, attentive without being overbearing or condescending, and perhaps that’s a key to its popularity. And that brings us to our last point: Especially on weekends, reservations are pretty much mandatory here. Do call ahead, even if it’s only an hour or so before arrival.

Sidney Street Café

2000 Sidney St.

314-771-5777

 www.sidneystreetcafe.com

Dinner Tues.-Sat.

Credit cards: All major

Wheelchair access: Poor

Smoking: Yes

Entrees: $20-$29 

This Week's Wine: October 7, 2008

  Once known as an area of small farms and a history influenced by lead mines in the area, Ste. Genevieve and St. Francois counties, about 60 miles south of St. Louis, are growing rapidly as grape-and-wine country, challenging Missouri’s more venerable wine sites like Augusta and Hermann as places to visit on a weekend.

With the exception of the Sainte Genevieve Winery, which is several generations old, the wineries in the two counties are of recent vintage, which means they are tourist-friendly, replete with modern conveniences. With modern technology close by, they were able to start miles ahead of their older neighbors, who fought the non-California image, studied agriculture and wine-making while holding down other jobs and battled to give Missouri wine a certain cachet, helped by Lucian Dressel’s wisdom in earning the first Federal wine appellation for Augusta. Everyone else followed. Napa became No. 2.

So if there was a road beginning at the first plantings and trudging to the point of making drinkable, valued wine, Crown Valley and the other Lead Belt wineries started about three-quarters of the way home.

Joe Scott, the Crown Valley founder and owner, planted his first Chardonel grapes in1998, opened the    winery in 2003 and has expanded the operation to three wineries in eastern Missouri, more than 600 acres of grapevines and a huge facility near Ste. Genevieve. Crown Valley claims to have the largest Norton vineyard in the U.S. The Crown Valley vineyards also are planted in Chambourcin, Chardonel, Traminette, Vignoles, Viognier and others. Some vinifera grapes are grown in Missouri, others are brought from California, with labels that specify "American wine." The Champagne facility, with production in both Champenoise and Charmat methods, is in nearby Farmington, and Port is made and aged on property in the Tievoli Hills, near Clarksville, north of St. Louis on the banks of the Mississippi. The wine is made from Norton grapes, blended with some Californian-grown Syrah.

Winemaker Daniel Alcorso, born in Australia, reared in Tasmania and experienced in the wine industry in those countries, plus New Zealand, California and Virginia, has been at the winery for a handful of harvests, but says he enjoys the pressure of handling a variety of grapes and blends.

His 2005 Meritage, a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon (30 percent), Petit Verdot (32), Cabernet Franc (25), Merlot (10) and Malbec (5), is made of grapes from Napa and Sonoma Counties, spends 18 months in French and American oak, is a solid Bordeaux blend, though it would benefit from another year or two in the bottle. The aroma is of berry, the flavor of cassis and red fruits, the finish is long and smooth, and while there is tannin, it is generally soft, providing a long, agreeable finish.

A 2004 Norton, from locally grown grapes, spends two years in oak and has the distinctive Norton aroma of cedar and tobacco. It’s an excellent example of Missouri’s best red wine and, in this writer’s opinion, is the finest American red grape. Again, it could use a year or two additional age, softening the tannins and bringing out its warmth.

Sweet Redbird is a blend of Chambourcin (68 percent) and Norton (32) from the winery’s vineyards is a good wine to carry less-experienced drinkers from white to red, from sweet to dry. At 8 percent sugar, it’s only slightly sweet, and the berry flavors are impressive. The absence of oak makes the ‘07 easier to quaff, and the $9 price tag makes it easy on the pocketbook, too.

The Crown Valley whites include a locally grown Vignoles and Chardonel, the latter bottled under the Casper White label. The Vignoles is made for some sweetness that go with tropical fruit and melon flavors, and an aroma of orange blossoms. California-grown Chenin Blanc from Lodi, Calif., and Riesling from Lake County have crisp, clean flavor.

We're happy to participate in Regional Wine Week, a project of www.drinklocalwine.com, which is masterminded by our pal Dave McIntyre, the wine writer for Washingtonian magazine, whose wine blog is here. Check it out.

–Joe

La Tropicana Market

In this era of coffee mania, we found an excellent cuppa at an old favorite that we had never thought to connect to the beverage.

Walking into La Tropicana, we were greeted by proprietor Luis Trabanco. "You know," we said, the lightbulb having gone on over our head en route to the shop/restaurant, "you ought to be doing Cuban coffee."

He grinned. "I do," he said. And he did. Cuban coffee is strong, espresso-style, usually prepared with sugar, and frequently with steamed milk for café con leche. Trabanco’s version is strong without the burnt note often associated (and complained about) with espressos.

An excellent drink. Check the case by the front door for a pastry to go with it. And don’t forget about the tasty foodstuffs, all nicely labeled, in the case at the rear of the store.

La Tropicana

5001 Lindenwood Ave.

314-353-7328

Lunch daily, Dinner Mon.-Sat. (opens 9 a.m. except Sunday at 11 a.m.)

Cash only

Wheelchair access: Difficult

Smoking: No

Entrees: $5-$12

Vito's

For pre-theater and -concert dining in the Grand Center area, we often suggest Vito’s, and then firmly speak to the necessity of a reservation. On a recent weeknight, arriving at 6:30, we saw only two open tables, and those were in the bar at this popular Midtown location at the southern outpost of the arts district and the northern edge of the St. Louis University campus. It also can work for a post-performance meal spot, with a kitchen open late on weekends and a bar open until 3 a.m.

It’s a pleasant, very low-key example of the family-owned Italian restaurant that has been a mainstay of St. Louis dining for more than a century, and Vito’s is proud of its Sicilian heritage. Lunchtime offers a menu or a buffet that includes provel-free pizza, drawing business folks and escaping students and faculty. And now gelato is available, waiting temptingly in a case near the front door.

The rolls that start things are housemade and, probably, we suspect, from the pizza dough. That’s fine by us because we like the texture and the chew. Unfortunately, they sometimes get a little dried out from being in the warmer too long. One of the tastiest first courses is caponata, the eggplant-based relish that is done Sicilian style, agrodolce or sweet and sour. The presence of raisins harks back to the long-ago influence of Moors from North Africa in Sicily. But it comes and goes from the menu and the buffet table; if you find it, it can convert the eggplant-phobic. The fried calamari is, as promised, lightly breaded, nicely crisp and with a briskly seasoned marinara sauce. A caprese salad had excellent tomatoes at the end of the tomato season, a light drizzle of balsamic vinegar, and sweetly milky mozzarella slices. But the most fun we had in the first-course department was with the meatball sliders, small single-meatball sandwiches on their own rolls, the tomato sauce moistening things and the meatballs tender and meaty. Fun, a little messy to eat, but delicious.

Yes, the pizza is quite delightful unless you’re monomaniacal about St. Louis-style pizza. The crust here is thicker, and there is, as announced above, no provel cheese. To honor our family’s pronounced anchovy gene and the visit of one of the folks who also posses it, we went for one of the pizza specialties, a Don Vito. A 10-inch pizza is topped with fresh mozzarella and tomato slices, kalamata olives, a few capers and the anchovies. Gooey, richly flavored, good crust, altogether enjoyable. Linguini tutto mare combines clams, mussels, scallops and shrimp in a tomato-laced broth, slightly peppery, neither the pasta nor the seafood overcooked, all the flavors in harmony. Our only complaint was that it didn’t arrive with a soup spoon and/or more bread to soak up the juices.

 

Fat, round ravioli filled with chicken, spinach and mushrooms wore a creamy sauce, but it was the filling, with lots of rich mushroom flavor that got applause worthy of an encore. The only glitch in the main courses was a plate of linguini with clam sauce. It was tasty, with lots of garlic in the sauce, but unfortunately, half the clams hadn’t opened from their steaming and many of the remaining ones were broken, with their shards scooped up and included in the pasta. Apologies from our waiter, who was covering a lot of ground that night, and a quick removal from the table and the check.

Yes, it was an error. We usually don’t send dishes back unless they’re inedible, but this was a potential hazard to the teeth, far more than just an overdone or too-salty entree. It can happen to any diner, and the big question is not what the diner does, but what does the restaurant do? Vito’s was quick to respond, and the response was correct. Should we be telling you about it? Absolutely. We’re sometimes accused of being "too nice," and we do try to speak politely while we’re being critical.

The wine list includes a good-sized number of reasonably priced Italian imports along with enough California entries by the bottle or the glass. Nothing exceptional, but plenty of hearty wines that go well with the hearty food that comes from the kitchen at Vito’s. Service is friendly and efficient, and if you’re too full for a large dessert, a couple of scoops of gelato will fill the empty spaces

Vito’s

3515 Lindell Blvd.

314-534-VITO (8486)

Lunch and Dinner, Mon.-Sat. (to 3 a.m. Fri.-Sat.)

www.vitosstl.com

Credit cards: All major

Wheelchair access: Good

Smoking: Yes

Entrees: $10-$18