Many years ago, a small theater chain in rural Missouri ran a promotion titled “Beans, Bacon and Biscuits”. Those basic food items turned out to be a promotion of a grocery giveaway. Who would have thought that we’d look at those things in a far different light now? Beans, which were grabbed up in the early days of the pandemic and have now become the focus of serious cookbooks (Hello, Joe Yonan!), are found in heritage varities with wait lists. (Hello, Rancho Gordo!) Have you looked at the price of supermarket bacon lately? (Thank you, pork belly recipes.) And biscuits – whoever thought that canned refrigerator biscuits were the death of the delicate renditions our grandmothers produced (raises hand…) has been proven wrongwrongwrong by the emergence of them as a sought-after delicacy.
Juniper, located in the neighborhood where someone once said St. Louis University meets Washington University – which is to say, Laclede and Sarah – has taken on at least two of those three commodities for its Sunday brunch. Serious biscuits, whether served straightaway or as the base to a Benedict, a sandwich or good old biscuits and gravy, mark the meal. Remarkable bacon, thick cut and deeply, deeply smoky, like first-rate barbecue, beckons seductively.
Reliable coffee, yes. But the notable opening to this morning food is the orange juice, which tastes like it’s squeezed to order. The “freshly squeezed” stuff that you see in stores – all that means is that it was never frozen. Orange juice begins to change right after it’s squeezed, like wine from a just-opened bottle. Unlike wine, however, the changes in OJ are not in a more positive direction. Trust me on this. It’ll be a shock if you’ve only had the commercial stuff, but it’s An Experience.
The biscuits are available a la carte with strawberry jam, but they also pitch in as a base for four sandwiches. During the pandemic, Juniper offered their fried chicken biscuit by pre-order as a carryout item on weekends, where it won friends and influenced people. Here it is, a stack containing their crisp, tasty chicken, pimento cheese, smoked mayonnaise, a little red pepper jelly and an egg. They’re as alluring as ever, and much easier to eat with a knife and fork than using one hand while driving, which was my introduction to them. The fried chicken version is joined by ones with ham and cheese, with bacon and with chicken scrapple. That odd-sounding meat loaf-like dish is often connected with Pennsylvania Dutch cooking, but can be found as far south as Virginia, so it does fall in with Juniper’s kitchen’s Southern leanings. (The variety of meat used can vary from household to household, so chicken, rather than the more common pork scraps, isn’t remarkable.) It’s on my must-try list. The bacon version charmed, yielding easily to knife and fork, and the STL Hot potatoes alongside, seasoned with a variation of the Riplets spicing, were satisfying.
Another set of choices are found under the heading Juniper Hash. The options of beef with chimichuri sauce, STL Hot spiced chorizo, pork with barrel aged hot sauce and mixed mushrooms with brown butter hollandaise make decisions difficult, but our dish of the chunky mushroom hash was a winner, with potatoes, onions and plenty of sweet red peppers and a perfectly cooked egg as a topper. It’s a very vegetarian-friendly menu, certainly. The velvety-smooth quiche of spinach and mushrooms with parmesan cheese charmed with its slightly punchy green sauce and a bit of green salad. Serious French fries for the Potato Queen, hot and crunchy, the kind apt to be snatched up by, uh, other diners at the table.
Very conservative eaters can be of any age, from 3 to 83. They will all be happy with the pancakes. Immense, tender discs perhaps nine inches across come unadorned. Standing guard are a small container of syrup and a scoop of what seems to be honey butter. Very simple, very fluffy, just pancakes, butter and something sweet. Goes perfectly with a couple of pieces of that bacon. Chef Matt Daughaday says he uses Burger’s Smokehouse bacon when it’s available – which isn’t always. That, of course, explains the rich smokiness.
Okay, so biscuits and bacon – what about the beans? Not available at brunch, but, sure enough, at other meals. They’re using Anson Mills red beans in a smoky creamy sauce. It’s vegetarian, surprisingly enough, and so are the collard greens.
Grandma cooking that’s evolved is what we’re dealing with here. Servers know their menu and are patient with people agonizing over their choices. Also lots of sunlight with windows to the east and south. Owner John Perkins has a lot to be pleased about.
Juniper
4101 Laclede Ave.
314-329-7696
Brunch 10-2 Sundays
Lunch and Dinner 11-9 Wednesday through Saturday
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