Stuff to eat. Mostly around St. Louis.
Your Favorite Restaurants & Dishes: St. Louis, 2018
Inspired by a Twitter post I saw about Chicago restaurants, I decided to ask: “Out of all the restaurants in St. Louis, what would be your top 5 food items (and where)?”
The response was overwhelming, and I ended up with 712 individual dish responses (because some people can’t count to five). Answers were all over the board, though a few dishes reigned supreme. The top list are the most named restaurants and the second list are the most named individual dishes. Places like Union Loafers received votes for everything from their pizza rossa to their soups to the sandwiches, while places like Fork & Stix pretty much only received votes for a single dish (explaining how they are not in the favorite restaurants list, but are at the top of the dish list).
Without further adieu, here are the restaurants you named the most.
Your favorite restaurants
1. Union Loafers
top dish: little gem salad
2. Mac’s Local Eats
top dish: burger (duh)
3. Pastaria
top dish: Salume Beddu nduja pizza
4. Louie
top dish: gnocco
5. Mai lee
top dish: pho
6. Grace
top dish: fried chicken
7. Nudo House
top dish: o’miso spicy/shroomed out [tie]
8. Balkan Treat Box
top dish: pide
9. Salt & Smoke
top dish: white cheddar cracker mac
10. Gioia’s
top dish: hot salami
Your favorite dishes
Quotes from voters
1. Khao Soi
Fork & STix
“First, I love the color of the khao soi. It's like a dreamcicle almost. But it's the balance: Heat, curry, coconut, lime. The noodles are the perfect size and doneness, crunchy wontons break up the texture. Broth to noodle ratio is dead on. It's a perfectly balanced bowl of noodles. It’s my happy place”
2. Little Gem Salad
Union Loafers
“Loafers sprinkles some sort of magic dust on top because it's the only salad I've ever genuinely craved. And it appears I'm not alone.”
“I never imagined I’d live in a world where I’d pick a salad over a sandwich 9 times out of 10, but the little gem with bacon is the greatest salad on earth.
3. Pho
mai Lee
“If I’m not feeling good or I’m having a crappy day, there are two things that I know will make me feel better: a bowl of Mai Lee’s pho and a hug from Qui Tran.”
4. Egg Salad
Olio
“I would never have thought to treat chicken eggs like salmon roe. Fluffed up, it is a perfect base for the flavors of its condiments, particularly the anchovies.”
5. White Cheddar Cracker Mac
Salt + Smoke
“Cracker mac was the side that made my wife and I choose S&S to cater our wedding. The buttery cheesy sauce and the light crunch of the crackers makes it the perfect comfort food.”
“I never understood the hype around mac ’n’ cheese because it’s literally cheese on pasta, but then I had Salt + Smoke’s mac ’n’ cheese and I realized it’s so much more than that. So much more. It’s everything you want in your mouth at the same exact time.”
6. Classic Burger
Mac’s Local Eats
“The burger at Mac's is the complete deal. Starting with the lightest, fluffiest bun that's toasted not in butter, but lard. The combination makes them the perfect vehicle for the main event: the patties. Taking dry aged ground beef and smashing the hell out of it may seem sacrilegious, but doing so actually allows the Maillard reaction to do its best work, and creates the most unctuous burger patty you've ever had, with the crispiest edges ever. And that's it. Simplicity reigns supreme with this burger.”
7. Pide
Balkan Treat box
“There is nothing else like a pide from Balkan. I dream about it. I’ll drive to the moon to get one”
“When I tried the Balkan pide filled with Stellar Hog brisket, I couldn’t believe what I was tasting. I fell in love, and every single thing I’ve had from BTB since has been incredible.”
8. Hot Salami
Gioia’s
“If there is a St Louis sandwich, it would have to be the Hot Salami from Gioia’s. It’s where I take out-of-towners when I want to show off.”
“My perfect Saturday involves eating a hot salami sandwich on garlic cheese bread, taking a nap, then eating the other half and crashing on the couch.”
9. Fried Chicken
Grace Meat + Three
“I want to hug Ricky all the time because of his fried chicken.”
“I never saw myself as the kind of guy who could eat a bucket of chicken, but when it comes to Grace’s fried chicken, I just can’t stop. Especially the hot chicken.”
10. Roman Gnocco
Louie
“It’s like if you never had met your grandma and you went to your fiancée’s for Christmas and her NoNna came and gave you a big long hug with a huge smile on her face...and in that instant you learned what it is to have a grandma”
Honorable mentions: Pizza Rossa [Union Loafers], RIP fries [Mac’s], Nduja Pizza [Pastaria], Flying PIg [Guerrilla Street Food], Classic Pizza [Union Loafers]
Honorable Mentions: Chicago, Summer 2018
My brother moved to the west loop, which means goodbye D.C. posts, hello Chicago.
Walking around Chicago, namely the West Loop, is like seeing my Instagram feed come to life. I can’t believe the number of amazing restaurants packed into such a relatively small area; I’ve gone twice this summer and have barely left the neighborhood at all. And why should I? Roister, Bonci, The Loyalist, Au Cheval, Little Goat Diner, etc. are right there.
A few of the places I’ve eaten at in Chicago deserve full posts (Duck Duck Goat, Roister), but here’s a run down of some of the quicker bites I’ve had that are worth your time—they’re not all in the West Loop, but none are too far off.
The Bakery at Fat Rice
I could spend all day at the Fat Rice restaurants (all located inside the same building at Sacramento and Diversey). You have the main restaurant, Fat Rice, with a strong Macanese influence—that’s Macau, if you didn’t know—that combines Chinese and Portuguese food. I’ve eaten there, I loved it, but I was camera-less. If cocktails and small bites are more what you’re looking for, you’ll want a reservation at The Ladies Room. For breakfast or lunch, you’ll want The Bakery at Fat Rice.
The Bakery is a nod to the bakeries you see all over Asia these days (miss u Breadtalk), where you can grab sweet treats, like egg tarts and ube milk bars, or savory bakes, like their char siu pork pineapple bun. I thought the highly touted Chicago-style hot dog bun was totally overpowered by the spicy mustard, but maybe that was just that particular batch.
Baked goods
Ube Milk Bar
purple yam, shortbread, condensed milk jam, coconut streusel
Pineapple Bun
chinese BBQ pork, scallion
Chicago-style hot dog bun
vienna beef, Chicago-style classic fixins’
at The Bakery at Fat Rice
Green Street Meats & Sawada Coffee
If you’re from a city with good BBQ (like, uh, St. Louis) and you’re visiting Chicago, don’t bother going to Green Street Meats—unless you’re in the market for some great pastries and coffee, sold out of Sawada Coffee in the back of the restaurant. Try the Military Latte (matcha tea, vanilla syrup, cocoa powder, and a shot of espresso) or the Black Camo Latte (roasted green tea called hojicha, along with milk and espresso).
Pork belly
Elote corn
JP GRAZIANO
JP Graziano’s is a Chicago institution—they’ve been around since 1937—that gives the classic Italian sandwich shop a little umph. They’re about more than just great, primarily local ingredients: they take the classics and elevate them. Their signature sandwich, the Mr. G, is a perfect example of this. Sure, it looks like every other Italian sammy out there, but with the perfect amount of truffle mustard, spicy oil, marinated artichokes, and fresh basil, it’s not your typical deli sandwich.
Mr. G
sharp imported provolone, hot sopresatta, prosciutto di parma, volpi genoa salami, truffle mustard, balsamic vinaigrette, hot oil, marinated roman style artichokes, fresh basil, lettuce with red wine vinegar and oregano
at JP Graziano
Bombobar
Sometimes you want to just stand outside and shovel filled donuts into your face. Bombobar basically offers four things: bomboloni, gelato, Italian ice, and coffee. No further explanation is needed.
Bomboloni
salted caramel, s’mores
at Bombobar
The goddess and grocer
The Goddess and Grocer is just a solid spot to grab a bite to eat, with lots of premade options, plus a full sandwich menu with daily specials. And lots of pastries. It’s certainly not the most exciting place to eat in town, but if you’re nearby, it works.
Chicken Samosa
at The Goddess and Grocer
Cubano
at The Goddess and Grocer
3 Arts Club cafe
I didn’t know I was the kind of fancy boy that would go to 3 Arts Club Cafe, the very posh restaurant inside the middle of the biggest Restoration Hardware on earth, but apparently I am. While the prices were ridiculously high, I have to give them props: their French Dip was as delicious as it was massive.
French Dip
Parachute
While my meal at Parachute didn’t live up to the meals friends of mine have had there, I’d go back again—that’s the risk you take when you go somewhere that changes its menu on a whim. Two dishes were big winners, though: the smoked yuba (tofu skin) and the baked potato bing bread. Honestly, I’d recommend you just go early and grab a cocktail and the bread. You’ll leave happy.
smoked yuba
at Parachute
baked potato bing bread
at Parachute
Pacific Standard Time
I loved Pacific Standard Time so much. If I lived in Chicago, or if it was in St. Louis, it would absolutely be in my rotation—in an ideal world, weekly. Picking what we were going to get was nearly impossible, thanks not only to their menu descriptions, but by the smells and sights of the restaurant. Our table faced their massive wood-fired ovens, and it was just a barrage of pizzas, pita bread, and vegetables. We ultimately went with a crudo, pita with beef tartare (amazing), crispy fish sauce chicken wings, a mushroom pizza, suckling pig with stone fruit, and a sweet corn dessert. I’d eat every one of those dishes again.
Pita
at Pacific Standard Time
Fish sauce wings
at Pacific Standard Time
Frontera Grill
While I really wanted to try Rick Bayless’ Topolobampo tasting menu, I figured it was best to start off at the OG, Frontera Grill. I was a little surprised to see how small the restaurant itself was (and how badly it needed a design update), but all of the food was solid. The clear winner was the duck breast below. Get it.
Duck breast
Oaxacan mole chichilo (mulato chiles, almonds, raisins, spices), pickled chile de agua
Nick Bognar's Omakase
St. Louis, MO
Finally, quality sushi arrives in St. Louis.
I’ll dedicate a full post to Nippon Tei and Ramen Tei’s revival in the near future, but if you’re somehow unaware: Nick Bognar, the son of Nippon Tei’s owners, returned from some time working outside of St. Louis, namely at the sushi powerhouse Uchiko in Austin, to let everyone know that it is possible to get great sushi in St. Louis.
erRecently, Nick debuted his first omakase dinner—basically ‘chef’s choice’—at Ramen Tei’s 8-person bar. I managed to wrangle a seat at one of the two seatings, mostly thanks to my superior dishwashing abilities. I’ve done a handful of omakases around the world, including one at the way-too-sterile-but-Michelin-starred Shinji by Kanesaka in Singapore. Almost every one I’ve eaten has been almost eerily quiet, almost to the point of it being awkward. I can only stare at a sushi master slicing fish for so long.
Luckily, Nick’s version of the omakase matched his personality: fun, bold, and, most importantly, not strictly Japanese. Bognar’s mom is Thai, and he wove Southeast Asian flavors and techniques throughout. More modern omakases are popping up around the globe, but in a traditional Japanese one like Shinji, you’re just getting the best possible fish with the best sushi rice, and that’s about it. It has its place, but honestly, it can be a boring meal (for a hefty sum) .The hamachi crudo with naam pla, Thai kosho, and candied garlic was the opposite of boring and easily the dish of the night—a night that included A5 Wagyu, two types of uni, and otoro—with a level of complexity that you don’t often see with sashimi. This should become a permanent fixture on the Nippon Tei menu. If it’s not, feel free to harass Nick.
Nick will be hosting guest sushi chef David Yoshitomo of Omaha, Nebraska on October 22nd, and tickets are available for it at https://www.exploretock.com/yoshitomo, then Uchiko’s head sushi chef, Yoni Lang, in November (TBD). You can see the full omakase tasting below.
MADAI
aged 4 days, shiso, lime
Hirame
aged 1 week, Thai kosho
Kinmedai
aged 4 days
Boquerones & avocado nigiri
Hamachi Crudo
Thai kosho, naam pla, candied garlic, peanuts, shallot
stuffed chicken wing
deboned, stuffed with shrimp farce, topped with black truffle
Kanpachi
aged 1.5 weeks, sour cherry ume
Shima aji
aged 1.5 weeks, negidare, ginger aroshigane
Salmon 3 ways
cooked collar, sashimi with gojiberry zu, marinated ikura
bluefin chutoro
candied garlic
72 hour short rib nigiri
King trumpet mushroom nigiri
Peruvian uni
Maitake mushroom tempura
fried, aged parmesan, black truffle
Santa barbara uni
Nodoguro
aged 4 days, candied quinoa
Bluefin otoro nigiri
a5 wagyu beef
uni butter
tamago
Nudo House
Hey people who don’t live in the county:
Wah, Nudo House is far away from you. I don’t care. You guys get to live right next to places like Grace, Loafers, Vista Ramen, and so on. I feel no pity for you. Let the county have some nice things too, you goons.
Mai Lee’s Qui Tran made the genius move to open Nudo in Creve Coeur—home to iconic restaurants like Chipotle, Jimmy John’s, and Potbelly’s. We needed him desperately.
Tran and executive chef, Marie-Anne Velasco, didn’t set out to specifically make a ramen shop; it’s a noodle (Nudo…get it?) house, offering a few ramen variations, Mai Lee’s classic pho, plus spring rolls, crab rangoon, banh mi, and more.
“But it’s hot out now! I don’t want ramen or pho!”
Once again, stop whining. Do you have any idea how hot it gets in Japan in the summer? Do you think Vietnam has a chilly winter? No. They eat ramen and pho year round because it’s delicious and they’re not babies. Hamburgers are also hot, but I don’t see you avoiding those.
All of Nudo’s ramen bases are solid—at this point, easily the best in St. Louis in my mind. The Classic Nudo and O’Miso Spicy both use the delicious, fatty pork tonkotsu broth, while the Hebrew Hammer uses a schmaltz-laden chicken broth. The biggest surprise on the whole menu is the Shroomed Out vegetarian ramen. Somehow, someway, they’ve created a vegetarian dish that almost tastes meatier than the actual meat stocks. Since you can customize anything, I typically do the Shroomed Out, make it spicy, add extra egg and pork. YOLO.
Specials change daily (so follow them on social media), but range from classics like Japanese curry to cheffy stoner food, like a ramen scotch egg or hot braised chicken with scallion waffles. Nudo also sells booze and, more importantly, two soft-serve ice creams. The flavors are always changing, but my god, they are good. If you skip out on the soft-serve, we’re not friends.
On to the dishes!
Shroomed out ramen
Vegetarian mushroom-based ramen
Classic Ramen
Pork tonkotsu
Miso Spicy Ramen
Spicy pork & miso tonkotsu
Hebrew Hammer
Chicken ramen
Pho Shizzle
Pho with all the meats.
Pho Dip
Banh mi with pho beef, dipping pho
Momofuku CCDC
Am I cool now that I’ve been to one of David Chang’s restaurants?
Unlike most of the celebrity chefs who have used their fame to churn out garbage cookbooks, open restaurants made specifically for tourists with no taste, and sell their souls to be on mid-day cooking shows, Chang has done nothing but expand his empire of boundary-pushing restaurants.
He was brought to the limelight by Anthony Bourdain and, in a lot of ways, is the man we first associated with Bourdain: a renegade chef, unafraid of saying whatever comes to his mind. Though, like Bourdain, he has become less of a chef and more of a public figure.
The guy has 19 restaurants globally (and growing by the day), most of which attract top-tier FOH/BOH talent. That’s what you need to know.
I recently had the pleasure of trying out brunch at his D.C. location, Momofuku CCDC. Let’s talk about it.
The restaurant is located in a brand new complex, and par for the course in D.C., it’s sexy. We went in planning to get fucked up on food, and by god, we did it.
Things kicked off with a creamy Maryland crab dip served with spiced chicharrones for dipping, which should be a thing everywhere. You’ve already resigned yourself to eating unhealthy when you get tortilla chips, so why not just go all the way and eat some fried pork skin?
The dip was chased with a handful of steam buns—shiitake with hoisin, scallions, and cucumber to be healthy, shrimp with spicy mayo, pickled red onion, and iceberg lettuce to be moderately healthy, and a bacon & egg bun with hollandaise and bourbon maple syrup because living a long life is overrated.
The logical next step in our descent into obesity was shrimp and grits. An oversized bowl filled with buttery, creamy grits, topped with spicy shrimp, mustard greens, and a poached egg. People around us were beginning to stare. That’s how you know you’re doing it right.
We dabbled with the thought of eating healthy and ordered the smoked Carolina trout toast, and while it was delicious, it didn’t hold a candle up to the famous Korean Fried Chicken. Four massive boneless thighs were fried until ultra-crispy, tossed in a spicy, smoky gochujang hot sauce, then served with a mix of fresh greens, pickles, and herbs.
Oh, we also did a double order of their “bacon steak”, which turned out to just be an enormous plate of crispy pork belly. The table next to us could not have judged us any harder. Even the waiter seemed concerned.
As if we weren’t already disgusting enough, we capped the meal off with crack pie (a.k.a. sugar) and soft-serve ice cream from the attached Momofuku Milk Bar.
I can’t speak for lunch or dinner at Momofuku CCDC, but I can assure you that their brunch menu is decadent and depraved—and well worth the price.
Maryland Crab Dip
Chicharron, togarashi, tobiko
Shrimp bun
Spicy mayo, pickled red onion, iceberg lettuce
Shiitake bun
Hoisin, scallion, cucumber
Bacon & Egg Bun
Hollandaise, bourbon maple syrup
Shrimp & Grits
Poached egg, chili, mustard greens
Smoked Trout toast
Dill labneh, sunny side up egg, red onion
fried chicken
Tiger salad, pickles
Soft serve swirl
Crack pie
Grace Meat & Three
Anyone who had eaten Rick Lewis’ food before Southern knew he was capable of far more than just serving up fried chicken and a few sandwiches (remember when he got a James Beard nomination for Quincy Street Bistro?), so when he announced he was going off on his own to open Grace Meat & Three, the food community exploded with glee.
Ricky hasn’t let us down. Grace is destined to become a St. Louis classic, joining the pantheon of places like Pappy’s, Crown Candy, Mai Lee, and so on. The menu has something for everyone, including vegetarians, healthy eaters, and the morbidly obese—plus a full bar.
My favorites so far: the fried chicken, obviously, the sweet and smoky pulled pork Wednesday special, the caveman-sized turkey leg, and what I would say are the best pork ribs in St. Louis (fight me).
Everything has been good, though. I can honestly say in my dozen plus visits to Grace, I haven’t been disappointed, and I don’t think you will be either. Trust your gut and trust Ricky.
Fried chicken livers
mostarda, pickled onions, herbs
Deviled eggs
country ham, everything spice, herbs
Bloody mary
turkey leg
sweet tea brine, herb sauce
Pork ribs
st. louis style Duroc pork ribs, raw sugar glaze, bread & butter pickles
Pulled pork
whiskey sauce, Alabama white BBQ sauce, crispy shallots
Assorted sides
mac & cheese, sweet potatoes, braised greens
Chicken Tenders
catfish sandwich
baby greens, green tomato relish, comeback sauce
Burger
beer cheese, onions, pickles, comeback sauce
Grilled Bologna Sandwich
pimento cheese, fried egg, mustard
Whole chicken
Roast beef
mushrooms, bone marrow gravy, crispy leeks
Bolyard's Biscuits & Gravy
There is a shortage of good weekend breakfast options in St. Louis.
That’s started to change with restaurants like Vista, Sardella, and Reeds opening for brunch, along with breakfast-specific spots like The Clover and The Bee and Yolklore, but judging by the wait times—and constantly complaining to me, as if I have the power to make places open earlier—more are needed.
Good news for those of you who live close to Bolyard’s Meat and Provisions in Maplewood: starting on January 6th, the shop will be serving biscuits and gravy on Saturdays from 10 AM until noon. (I’m not normally the one to give you the scoop on something new, but I’ve been incessantly nagging them to add breakfast options, so I’m making an exception)
If you haven’t had their biscuits before, you haven’t really lived. We took a family vote this past Thanksgiving and it was unanimous that these are the best in town (don’t @ me), made with house rendered lard and local buttermilk. You can get them hot and ready for dinner every Tuesday night with their roasted chicken or on Thursday evening’s smoke-outs. Shop veterans also know you can buy them frozen (almost) any day.
So, combine these monster, fluffy buttermilk biscuits with a gravy made out of the shop’s moderately famous breakfast sausage, and you have yourself a dish that will warm your bitter, breakfast craving soul. Tell the family that you’re just running out to get gas and eat alone in peace.
Along with the B&G, they’ll also be offering a weekly biscuit sandwich, ranging from your basic egg/ham/cheese to more exotic creations, like a chorizo patty with cheddar and scallions, or BBQ pork with apple butter. With the culinary minds of Chris Bolyard (Sidney Street Cafe), Alex Welsch (Porter Road Butcher), and Bob Komanetsky (Completely Sauced food truck), some special breakfast sammies are inevitable.
Also, while you’re here: if you haven’t made Bolyard’s part of your lunch sandwich rotation, you’re a fool.
Biscuits & gravy
Balkan Treat Box
Balkan Treat Box is the best food truck in St. Louis. Hell, I’d even go so far as to say the food coming out of this is more flavorful and exciting than the food you find at a lot of restaurants in town.
There are really two ways you can treat a food truck: you can use it as a mobile food delivery service (scoop-and-serve; you’re bringing pre-cooked food to people) or you can use it as a mobile restaurant, which is what owners Loryn and Edo Nalic do.
What you get when you order from their truck is truly freshly made as you wait. Well, besides the airy somun bread (pita’s Bosnian cousin), which is baked fresh in the truck’s goddamn wood-fired oven just before service.
The cevapi (che-va-pee) are like mini-sausages made of a simple mix of ground beef mixed with onion and garlic, finished on the goddamn wood-fired grill—yes, they have a grill and oven inside of their truck, and yes, it’s about 1,000 degrees in there during the summer. Don’t be deceived by the simplicity; I can’t stop eating this hamburger stick sandwich, served with kajmak (kind of like a cream cheese) and ajvar (a mildly spicy roasted red pepper relish).
For the döner kebab—one of the world’s great drunk foods—Loryn makes seasoned chicken thighs with aleppo, urfa, fresh herbs, sumac, and more before stacking them into a meat mountain and letting them slowly roast on a spit until their edges are crispy. The end result, a mix of crunchy, juicy chicken on somun with cabbage salad, lettuce, tomato, and a yogurt-based doner sauce, is one of the best sandwiches in town.
Now let’s talk about my two favorite things that Balkan makes: the pide (pee-day) and the lahmacun (la-ma-june).
Imagine a Turkish man making a calzone, but getting distracted in the middle. That’s the pide. It’s like an enormous boat filled with filled with seasoned meat, Turkish cheese, kajmak, and ajvar, and it’s also one of the world’s great drunk foods.
You probably won’t finish it in one seating unless you’re sharing or an impressive eater, but if you’re sharing this, you’re dumb. Make your friend/coworker/spouse/child order their own. Take your leftovers and eat them for breakfast the next day.
Side note: Once in a blue moon, Balkan Treat Box teams up with the Stellar Hog for The Stellar Pide, where they use chef Alex Cupp’s smoked brisket. It’s one of the best things I ate in 2017.
Finally, the lahmacun. This is almost as rare as The Stellar Pide, but I’m hoping this post and your vocal support will change things.
Loryn rolls out the somun dough until flattened, like a gigantic Bosnian tortilla, tops it with spiced ground lamb, then fires it in the oven. Once it’s cooked, it’s topped with lemon, parsley salad, cabbage, herbs, tomato, and the doner yogurt sauce, then rolled up (or not—your call…but get it rolled). I cannot accurately express to you how delicious it is, but I can tell you that when I bite into it, this is what I hear.
Hunt down Balkan Treat Box. Give them your money. Help them open a restaurant. Make St. Louis a better place. Thank you.
SOmun Bread
Cevapi
somun bread, onion, spicy pepper, cabbage salad
Chicken Doner
On the spit
Chicken Doner
Served as a sandwich
Beef pide
Lahmacun
the love of my life
Mac's Local Eats
I’ve been hesitant to share anything with you fine people about Mac’s Local Eats because, frankly, I don’t want you there.
To be clear, I’m writing this because I need you to go to support it and the bar that houses it, Tamm Avenue Grill, because I alone cannot cover their rent—but I’d really rather you stay away. I want to keep this gem hidden. I am Gollum, it is my precious. You are Frodo (or, more likely, the annoying Samwise Gamgee).
Like all human beings with fine taste and a zest for life, I am particularly fond of the ultra-smashed patty that one finds at establishments like Carl’s Drive-In and literally nowhere else. However, I am not a patient man, and with only 16 seats and a following 50 years in the making, getting a seat at Carl’s can be difficult. I am also afraid of the women who work there; I’m still recovering from the glare I received when I made the foolish mistake of asking for my check before they were ready to give it to me.
Contrary to the name of this website, I am not much of a drinker, which has kept me out of Tamm Avenue Grill for years. I was told by a chef friend that Tamm was a place for cooks to get ‘Tammered’ after their shift and, frankly, was not my kind of place. He was right.
Perhaps it was due to my notable absence in the bar, but the decision was made to remodel Tamm just under a year ago by co-owner Bob Brazell (Byrd & Barrel), and with that came the addition of a kitchen: Mac’s Local Eats.
There’s seating in the bar area, as well as a more family-friendly side room.
Mac’s is literally a hole in the wall of Tamm.
Chris “Mac” McKenzie has been known in the St. Louis food world for years thanks to his CSA, Mac’s Local Buys. If Mac signs off on something, I trust that it’s high quality.
The Mac’s menu changes a bit week to week, but two things remain constant: the smashed burgers and the fries. And, honestly, these smashed burgers are far better than one would expect or need in a Dogtown dive bar. Here comes a bold, controversial statement: I like the burgers at Mac’s more than the burgers at Carl’s.
Don’t @ me. Mac is dry-aging entire cows and making the patties out of them. Let that sink it. That is insanity.
There’s always a beef burger (obviously), pork burger, and veggie burger. I personally have not had the veggie patty yet, but all reports so far are that it gets an A+. The beef and pork are just perfection, plus they’re crispy AF.
My favorites so far:
The Pimento: two beef patties. Pimento cheese. Fried green tomato. Bread and butter pickles.
The Dirty Sancho: two pork patties. Pepper jack cheese. Shaved onions. Pickled jalapenos. Chipotle-garlic aioli.
The Captain: It’s just a normal cheeseburger, except for the fact that it’s four patties tall.
The patties are only 2 oz each, so plan accordingly. If you’re feeling hungry, I’d do a double cheeseburger, then a double of of one of the specialty burgers.
You’re also going to want an order of their fries—and if you really want the full experience, you’re going to get them as ‘Rip fries’ (tossed with Red Hot Riplets seasoning) and a side of their bacon onion dip.
So there. I’ve revealed my secret to you. Mac’s Local Eats is a treasure that will forever change your burger eating in St. Louis. Now go, and make sure to report back what you think.
The Captain
City House
Here’s how I ended up at Nashville’s City House: a friend told me to go. I didn’t look at the menu. I didn’t even ask him what to get. He told me to go, I made a reservation. I didn’t even know that chef/owner Tandy Wilson was Nashville’s only James Beard winner.
For those who don’t know but plan on visiting, City House is in what appears to be an old house in the city (Germantown, to be specific) without much signage out front. Yes, we walked right past it like total Nashville n00bs. A local couple saw us looking for it and pointed us in the right direction. It was all very embarrassing.
We ordered a a couple dishes to start: tomatoes with cottage cheese and scrapple (I cannot resist ordering scrapple) with cucumbers, ranch, and cornbread croutons. For entrees, we picked the delightfully unique bowl of corn, rice, smoked catfish, fish sauce, cider vinegar, and peanuts—it seems like someone like Thai food—and a homey, comforting smoked chicken sugo with grits ‘al forno’.
While all of those were good to very good, there was one true stand out. Something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately while I eat salads and chicken breasts to help mitigate a growing belly.
The pizza. My god, friends. The pizza. Had I known how good that damn pizza was going to be, I would have taken 30 more photographs. Hell, I probably wouldn’t have even ordered the other two entrees. I’d have just ordered more pizza.
The toppings were quality, but nothing wild and crazy: belly ham, mozzarella, Grana Padano, oregano, and chilies. Nothing outside what you’d find at Pastaria or Melo’s here in St. Louis. But that crust…
For you St. Louis readers, it comes out looking similar to a Pastaria pizza, but the main difference is the how crispy it is. You get a crunch with your bite, but you still get that nice chewy dough when you finally get to the crust. It has a unique flavor profile too—I’m not sure if it’s the flour they use, how long it’s fermented, or what.
But it’s glorious.
Tomatoes
cottage cheese
Scrapple
cucumber, ranch, cornbread croutons
Catfish salad
corn, rice, smoked catfish, fish sauce, cider vinegar, peanuts
Smoked chicken sugo
grits al forno
Pizza
belly ham, mozzarella, grana padano, oregano, chilies
Pie Hard
“We wanted to dedicate our truck to the greatest hero this nation has ever known: John McClane,” chef/owner Michael Pastor tells me. “The documentary about his actions, Die Hard, has been my favorite film since the day it came out—almost exactly 9 months after I was born.”
I tried to explain to Pastor that Die Hard was fictional, to which he responded like so:
Every time his partner, Megan Keefe, myself, or the other cooks got on the truck, he’d yell “Welcome to the party, pal!” It was funny at first, but concerning after the first few times.
Anyway, he sees the Pie Hard pizza truck as a mobile tribute to McClane—it’s American-made, it’s saving people from hunger, and it’s pretty much unstoppable (it is a modified shipping container with a full-sized wood fired pizza oven in it, after all). He says the revelation came about a few years ago when he was re-watching the film doc and McClane tells the police supervisor, “No fucking shit, lady. Does it sound like I’m ordering a pizza?!”
“When he said that, I thought, whoa, John McClane likes pizza too?”
Pastor spent a year developing his recipes, especially the crust. What ultimately won out was a slow, cold fermentation process using Antimo Caputo flour from Naples, Italy—the result is a bubbly, chewy dough, in the same vein as Pastaria and Pizzeoli here in town.
The menu has classics, like The Queen (a.k.a. a margherita) and The Vladi, a vodka sauce and meatball pie dedicated to Vladi Tarsenko, but it also has a good amount of more inventive pizzas, as well.
The Veggie, for instance, has a celery root puree based, that is topped with cherry tomatoes, preserved lemon, grana padano, and an infused honey. The Al Pastor uses a Mexican mole for its sauce, plus a queso fresco mix, slivers of pickled pineapple, and shavings of pork belly. With their reasonable prices ($9-12), it’s easy to get a couple pies to share—or, in my case, a couple pies to eat on your own.
As my night on the truck came to an end, I found myself getting more and more uncomfortable with Pastor’s obsession with Bruce Willis John McClane lines. Every few pizzas, he’d blurt out, “I’m gonna fuckin’ cook you, and I’m gonna fuckin’ eat you!”
I opted to hop off the truck with my pizzas and join local legend Mike Emerson for rosé and…uh, 5 pizzas. The last thing I heard Pastor say before I was out of earshot was, “happy trails, Hans!”
Pie Hard pizza food truck gets two thumbs up from this guy.
The Cuban
mustard bechamel, white cheddar, porchetta, prosciutto, house pickles, salsa verde
Veggie Special
The Queen
classic red sauce, mozzarella, basil
The Vladi
vodka sauce, mozzarella, meatball, pickled shallot, rosemary
Salt + Smoke's Brisket
There are a lot of things to like about Salt + Smoke, like owner Tom Schmidt's sultry voice and his Leonidas beard, dense as Germany's Black Forest, dark as night. And chef/pitmaster Haley Riley, who not only cooks meat that can't be beat, but once won a Jon Snow lookalike contest at West County mall. But what I like the most about Salt + Smoke is the brisket.
I've written about their burnt end t-ravs before, but I've never written about the brisket itself.
Brisket is my smoked meat of choice. I would pick fall-apart-tender, Texas style brisket over ribs and pulled pork any day. At the time of writing, there are three places that can quash my qraving for it in St. Louis: Salt + Smoke (obviously), Big Baby Q, and The Stellar Hog.
Before being smoked over white oak for the better part of the day, the brisket is rubbed with a simple salt and freshly ground (pre-ground stuff is for people that don't like flavor) pepper mix. Then it goes in. That's it.
The result is brisket that manages to stay together and fall apart all at the same time. It's smoky. The bark is crunchy. It's juicy, like a meat Starburst. I love it.
You can get the brisket either as a platter, which comes with two sides (I'd probably get the garlic and herb fries and white cheddar cracker mac) and a cheddar-bacon popover, or you can get it as a sandwich with burnt end mayo and tobacco onions.
When you order it, you'll get the option of lean, fatty, or burnt ends. You should order the lean—that leaves more of the good stuff for me. Oh, and I don't want to forget: Salt + Smoke has William Larue Weller bourbon in right now. Treat yo' self.
Brisket
Taqueria Durango's Torta Ahogada
I do my best not to do the standard Food Network reaction when I eat something delicious (you know the one: they take a bite, then simultaneously roll their eyes and their head in a circular motion, then say something like “Yummo!” or “holy moly, this is money!”), but there are times it just happens.
Most recently, it was brought on by the torta ahogada from Taqueria Durango, a football-sized behemoth, drowned in sauce. Which makes sense if you speak Spanish, because a tortais a Mexican sandwich and ahogada means drowned. If you really want to impress the staff, say, “Uno torta ahogada, s’il vous plaît!”
I went years without trying this sandwich, choosing instead to focus my eating on Durango’s tacos—which are some of the best in St. Louis—because I am a dumb person. Ian Froeb has talked about this sandwich for as long as I can remember, and I just ignored him. Sorry, Froeb. You were on the money with this yummo sandwich.
The oversized bolillo roll is sliced in half, filled with carnitas and grilled onions, then doused with a smoky and mildly spicy red chile sauce. This is clearly a knife and fork sandwich (does that negate it from being a sandwich? Discuss below). It reminds me of something I’d come up with late at night, drunk, using all my leftovers from the previous night’s tacos—but much better. The sauce is so good, and the way the outside of the bread soaks that up, while the inside picks up all the char and pork fat from the carnitas and onions…it shivers me timbers.
This is one of the best sandwiches I’ve had in St. Louis. Maybe even in the top 10. It is a little spicy, so if you’re a weakling, order something else.
Torta Ahogada
carnitas, onions
Union Loafers' Pizza
Hey Spencer, didn't you already write about Union Loafers' pizza? I sure did. Back in the old days (this summer), Loafers only made pizza once a week. If you were busy on a Wednesday, you missed out. Lines were long. Life was hard. Then pizza stopped all together. Ted giveth and Ted taketh away.
After installing a new walk-in fridge and perfecting his already perfect pizza, Teddy Wilson and BMan have re-launched pizza night—and now it's Wednesday through Saturday. Lemme walk you through this menu.
You're going to start off with BMan's Italian salad. It's the only non-pizza item on the dinner menu, so you don't have much of a choice, but it's worth your dollars. This is another salad from the inventor of their lunch time Little Gem. Have faith. BMan loads it up with garbanzo beans, fennel, olives, pickled peppers, fior di latte (no provel ropes, sorry), and a delightful vinaigrette. Pair that with some bubbles or beer.
On to the star of this show: the pizza. They're wonderful. They're enormous. I've yet to have a single person tell me they didn't enjoy them, and this includes other chefs who own pizza joints. I'll go so far as to say that if you don't like the pizza at Union Loafers, you're probably better off eating Lunchables at home.
You have six options for pizza, excluding any potential specials. First up, the Classic: tomato, mozzarella, basil & extra virgin olive oil. It's a classic for a reason.
Next, the lactose-intolerance friendly Marinara. Tomato, garlic, basil, oregano & chili oil. It's like a more grown up version of their pizza rossa, available at lunch.
Pepperoni, the love of my life, is paired with Calabrian chilis, tomato sauce and mozzarella. 9 times out of 10, this is the pizza I'm getting. LOOK AT IT.
The sausage, a simple herbs, tomato & mozzarella pie.
For the more adventurous, try the mushroom. Pickled shallots, Tuliptree Creamery's Foxglove, mozzarella & oregano. Foxglove is a funky, intense cheese, so if you can't handle that, don't order this. Weakling.
Last, but certainly not least, is the spinach pizza. This is probably my second favorite, behind the pep. Maybe it's my favorite. I don't know. As I look at this picture, I think it's my favorite again. Thick cut bacon, garlic, lemon, parmesan, mozz, and a mountain of spinach.
Go eat it. You can call it in and take it to go, you can sit there, whatever. I don't care what you do, as long as it involves Union Loafers pizza.
italian salad
classic pizza
marinara pizza
pepperoni pizza
Sausage pizza
Mushroom pizza
spinach & bacon pizza
Nathaniel Reid Bakery
Goodies Shelf at Nathaniel Reid Bakery
Entremet Case at Nathaniel Reid Bakery
I went to France for 2 weeks in 2006, which makes me uniquely qualified to discuss lespâtisseries viennoises, entremets, and baguettes. I see myself as a cross between Mary Berry and Pierre Hermé. When I heard Nathaniel Reid Bakery opened in Kirkwood, I wanted to make sure he knew who he was dealing with. I showed up looking Parisian as hell in my black and white striped shirt, tight black pants, and smug attitude. I peppered the staff with important questions, like where is your beurre from and do you have free samples. I don't want to brag, but they know me there now.
I've gone to Nathaniel Reid Bakery (NRB) close to 10 times now, I think. "Stop eating so much sugar and butter," my doctor would say if I had health insurance. But I do this for you people. I needed to try as much as I could so I could soundly recommend items. My altruistic, selfless nature never ceases to impress me.
When you walk in, before you even look at the display case, head to the far wall, a Willy Wonka-esque treasure trove of chocolates, nougats, caramels, meringues, chocolate pearls. The last two are perfect for prettying up that pathetic attempt at a cake you just made for your kid/spouse. My two favorite jarred goodies: the Spiced Caramel Spread and the strawberry-poppy flower jam. I'd never had poppy flower before (I hoped it would give some sort of opium buzz, but all I got was hyperglycemia), which I found out taste just like cotton candy. And I secretly love cotton candy.
If you'll kindly turn your head to the right, you'll see the display case. This is what you came here for. Colors. Glazes. Shapes. Ooh. NRB typically has 6 to 8 types of macarons in their case, each with a pronounced flavor but a texture that's fairly different than La Patisserie Chouquette's. I don't know if one is more French than the other because I didn't eat any macarons in France during that trip a decade ago. I would happily eat both, Nathaniel's in my left hand, Chouquette's in my right.
The viennoiserie options vary depending on the time of day, what's in season, etc. What I'm trying to say is that you might see a picture of an apple pastry today, but next week, when you go, it'll be pear. And you'll inevitably tweet at me about it, whining. You snooze, you lose.
If you're a NRB rookie, grab an assortment of breakfast pastries. Below, you'll see their pecan cinnamon roll, a croissant, and the love of my life: their twice baked almond-chocolate croissant. The croissant, decked out with dark chocolate, is sliced open and slathered with almond paste, topped with more chocolate, then baked until extra crispy. I like to bite into it while staring directly into Nathaniel's eyes and tell him "good bake" a la Paul Hollywood.
I've been watching a lot of Great British Bake Off lately.
NRB has delicious sandwiches (and salads, but salads are too healthy) available for lunch, with my favorite being the roast beef. It's a simple sandwich, the kind I'd buy on my morning stroll back when I was living in France for those two weeks, made with tender roast beef, slivers of red onion, a slice of cheese, and horseradish aioli. Though, to be honest, it's the bread that wins me over: brioche (aka butter) bread with a sprinkling of shaved parmesan on top. Molto Bene! as the French say.
Where NRB really shines is with their entremets, also known as "them fancy cakes" if you're from St. Charles. Reid's creations are incredible, undoubtedly some of the most delicious entremets I've ever had. And the detail work that goes into ever component is mind-boggling. Here's the recipe for the Amber cake below. Are you going to attempt that at home? I didn't think so.
He's so good, in fact, that the Nathaniel Reid you see in the picture below isn't even him. That's 6 feet of spun sugar. He's that good.
Almost all of the entremets are available as full sized cakes, or in miniature form. The Amber is all about pecans and caramel. For something more tropical, the tangerine-colored Polynesia is a banana-passion fruit cream and coconut mousse cake. Not pictured, because I ate it without thinking, is the Sambava, a mix of chocolate, hazelnut and vanilla. My current favorite, being that I'm addicted to pistachio, is the Jarmo pistachio cake with a berry gelée and pistachio cream.
Before we go, I have to give special kudos to Señor Reid, for he has done the impossible. He has taken up the challenge of improving the much maligned, oft ignored fruit cake and turning it into something people actually want to eat. I guess opening a bakery and having a baby in the last 4 or so months wasn't hard enough.
I'm pleased to say that I enjoyed his fruit cake, which he tells me took nearly 7 years to perfect, immensely. It doesn't feel like you're eating a spiced brick, thanks in part to a proprietary technique he developed. He soaks and candies all the the fruits and nuts himself. It's a labor of love and you can taste it.
I know it's hard to believe, but your friends and family will actually thank you for bringing it to their [Insert Holiday] party.
Jams
chocolates
macarons
breakfast pastries
Chocolate Almond croissant
Roast beef sandwich
Amber
buttery shortbread, salted caramel mousse, pecan caramel
polynesia
coconut mousse, mango and banana cream, moist almond cake
jarmo
pistachio cream, pistachio cake, strawberries, raspberries
fruitcake
Maketto
Queenstown, New Zealand. Tia Carrere. The White Stripes.
All things I fell in love with instantly. There haven’t been many moments in my life where my first impression was “I love this place/person/thing.” I’m tough to impress.
In fact, I’m not sure there’s been a casual restaurant that has grabbed my attention and held it like this since I was at Candlenut in Singapore last year. The kind of restaurant that hits me so hard I need to go back the next day.
But Maketto did.
I still remember when Maketto opened just over a year ago—not because I went, but because my brother kept talking about it. The front was a clothing store, the back was a restaurant, upstairs was a cafe. There was a courtyard. You could sit at the chef’s counter. The food was modern Southeast Asian. Every meal sounded like the dishes I dream about when I’m alone.
This trip, I needed to go.
We make our way past the clothes, past the dining room, through the courtyard, into the adjacent building that houses the kitchen. We take our seats at the counter. I smell fish sauce and meat grilling.
The menu is relatively small—11 items—but I would eat any of them. I defer ordering to Logan and Kathryn, since they are the experts, and wait patiently.
Cambodian ground pork curry comes first. Not the most appetizing looking dish in the world, but the smell is unbelievable. That glorious mix of meat, coconut milk, and fish sauce funk isSoutheast Asia to me. The dish tastes like the what I ate in Siem Reap. As always: if a dish can transport me back to a place, it’s a dish I hold near and dear.
A ‘cheffy’ take on cumin lamb hits the table and once again, the smell wafts up and we’re all drooling. The meat is juicy, but still has a nice outer crunch. Mixed wild mushrooms and a Szechuan peppercorn mala oil pump up the earthy flavors, but they’re sliced through by a vibrant dill puree. I’m reaching over to steal the last bite when the waiter puts a plate in front of me…
This is where I decide that I will forever trust chef Erik Bruner-Yang. I make the waiter repeat his description of the dish. I try to quickly come up with a scheme to keep my brother’s hands away from it.
Six golden, crunchy, gruyere-cheese filled dumplings sit in front of me. Pillows of cheese, resting on a bed of Chinese beef chili and fermented greens. It’s everything I’ve wanted in life. I don’t deserve it. I love this dish. I tell Logan we might need another, but he tells me I need to wait. The star dish hasn’t even arrived.
A downside to seeing into the kitchen is knowing what’s coming next, and it is becoming obvious what Maketto’s finisher is: Taiwanese fried chicken.
You don’t understand. In Taiwan, you can get this street ‘snack’ that’s just these comically large pounded out chicken breasts that have been heavily spiced and deep fried until the crunch factor is turned to 10. I’ve been begging Tai Ke St. Louis to do it. I still fantasize about going back to Taipei’s night markets just to eat more.
This dish is up there with the best fried chicken I’ve had—anywhere. The crunch, the five-spice caramel, the crispy shallots…by this point, I’m not even talking. What is there to say? I’ve just fallen in love and I know it won’t be months until I see them again. I’m living in a Richard Linklater film where Julie Delpy is replaced by a modern Asian restaurant.
The chicken comes with grilled bread, which we use to mop up the bowl. We throw in the towel and head home. I wish I had gotten more chicken to go.
Cambodian Ground Pork Curry
Cumin Lamb
Gruyere Dumplings
chinese chili
Taiwanese Fried Chicken
I just couldn’t stay away. I kept thinking about you all night, Maketto. I had to come back for lunch before my flight.
We grab a matcha-cream filled donut and some coffee in the cafe upstairs for ‘breakfast’, then immediately head downstairs and order lunch. One Cambodian pork shoulder sandwich—a Cambodian variation on the banh mi, basically—one order of curried leek buns, and one order of pork buns.
I leave, and take one last look at the restaurant. I’ll miss you. But I know I’ll see you again.
Matcha Donut
Dumplings
Cambodian Sandwich
The Partisan
“So where else do you want to eat while you’re in D.C.? We could go to The Partisan—it’s got really good cocktails and the menu is almost entirely meat and charcuterie. It’s Red Apron butcher’s restaurant.”
“BOOK THAT SHIT RIGHT NOW.”
That, dear friends, is how we ended up at The Partisan (or, as I drunk texted Chris Bolyard:“I’m at your future restaurant”). And we hit it HARD.
You walk into the space and have the butcher shop to your right, the dining room to your left, and the bar in the back. We arrive early, grab a cocktail or three, then make our way to the table.
We have two menus to order from: the first shows 30 or so dishes, ranging from small bites, like $5 lupini beans with pickled ramps, to entrees, like a $120 Ancient White Park Bone-in Ribeye. The second menu is one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen, something I’ve dreamed about but never knew existed. It’s a sushi-style menu (you fill in the quantity then give it to your server) full of 39 types of charcuterie and cheese. How do I choose? Should I just get one of everything?
I put the decision in my brother’s hands and order us two light starters: crispy chicken skins with hot sauce and tallow fries with garlic and rosemary, plus a side of ranch aioli. And then the sun dried duck—basically duck jerky—with sriracha, just for good measure.
The charcuterie and cheese come out and they are glorious. I don’t even know which we had, aside from the ‘tete de pho’, a pho-braised pigs head, pulled apart. We each take a toasted tigelle, the Italian cousin to an English muffin, and go to town. The tray is cleared in under 5 minutes.
Not yet satisfied, I demand more meat. Nduja! More tigelles! Kung pao sweetbreads! House made spam musubi? Give it to me. A masa and ground pork cake? I’ve never seen such a thing, so I must eat it. Half a chicken, cooked on the rotisserie then deep fried? I have room for that.
45 minutes later and I am slowly slumping into the booth. I am food drunk, or concussed, or something. Last night I was at Pineapple and Pearls. I have pushed my body to its limits.
I watch as my friends demolish a basket of chocolate cake donut holes (if these are donut holes, then the donuts themselves must be the size of innertubes) with chocolate pudding, then move on to the buttermilk panna cotta with pineapple and (white chocolate) pearls.
The Partisan is certainly worthy of a spot in my D.C. dining rotation, though next time I go, I think I’m going to try to see how much of the charcuterie I can get through.
Fried Chicken Skins
Tallow Fries
Duck Jerky
Charcuterie Board
Nduja
Kung Pao Sweetbreads
Spam Musubi
Fried Chicken
Donuts
Pineapple and Pearls
I try to limit my word count in posts these days, but occasionally, a lengthy piece is warranted. Pineapple & Pearls opened in D.C. earlier this year and is already rocketing into the upper echelon of American restaurants.
Months ago, Pat Noonan, the man behind Pat Likes to Eat and the only food blogger with a six pack, convinced me that that missing out on a meal at Pineapple and Pearls in D.C. would be a huge mistake, even with it’s $250 per person price tag. Pat knows food, and we both loved chef Aaron Silverman’s sister restaurant, Rose’s Luxury, so I figured, “Be like Pat.”
I'm crammed in the shittiest Uber in D.C. with my brother, Logan, and his girlfriend, Kathryn, anxiously wondering what the meal will have in store. None of us have read any reviews. We're going in blind.
We pull up, point and laugh at the plebs waiting hours to eat at Rose's, and make our way through P&P’s matte black door into the bright white, gold, and wood interior—it's classy A.F. Don Draper would fit in here. We check in with the hostess and are presented with welcome drinks: a Kir Royale for me, soju and shiso the other two.
We're taken into the intimate 20-or-so seat dining room and told that, like Catbird Seat in Nashville, we won't be getting menus until the end of meal, so we’ll have no idea what each course will be—aside from peeking at our neighbor's plates.
Drink pairings, gratuity, and tax are included in the price of the meal—L&K went with the alcoholic pairings, but I wanted to see what a non-alcoholic pairing would be like. We toast our prosecco (and my pear cider), then the avalanche of food starts.
Fennel absinthe bonbons hit the table first, an emerald marble resting on an absinthe spoon over some kind of absinthe cocktail—I miss the details because I'm staring at my own reflection in the bonbon. I pop the yogurt-filled bonbon in my mouth and take a drink. We all nod in agreement. Baby Mexican street corn elotes served over a tiny smoker come next. Give me 11 more servings of those and I’ll be good.
And the winner for most beautiful palate cleanser I’ve had at a restaurant is...The oysters and vodka course comes out on a stunning tower that a slob like me doesn’t deserve, with the lower level's faux oyster shells holding pickled oysters with cucumber granita, fennel, and borage flowers, and the upper levels holding shots of vodka, cucumber syrup, and fennel bitters. The last time I ate oysters in D.C., I had the worst food poisoning of my life and I still haven't mentally recovered 100%. Still, I press on with no regrets.
Chef Silverman himself brings out our next course, which appears to be a bamboo box. He turns it outward and unveils three tiers hidden inside, like some kind of Russian matryoshka doll. The bottom tier holds a sour cherry compote, followed by a foie gras mousse with toasted hazelnuts.
At the pinnacle are three small squares of bread, which Silverman downplays as a mix between brioche and a biscuit. I split my biscuit in half and take a bite without any toppings. Oh god. I think I let out a guttural moan or a high pitched squeeee. It's flaky. Moist. Buttery. And even more buttery when I spread the foie gras mousse on. All three of us try to make it last as long as possible. We would all agree this was the best bite of the entire meal.
We're given a few minutes before the entrees commence, which is good, because my food refractory period is in full swing. Plus, I'm terribly depressed the pan au lait is gone.
Silverware at Pineapple and Pearls (1 of 1)
Before we continue, let me tell you why the non-alcoholic pairings are even better than the traditional ones: the alcohol throughout the meal was primarily wine, with a cocktail and beer thrown in. My drinks were unique and, quite frankly, amazing. The Thai basil and lime soda was like gourmet Sprite; the smoky Arnold Palmer was the first time in my life I could enjoy lapsang souchang tea; the ginger beer in the coconut made me feel like I was at the beach; the peanut milk cherry cola melted my face off. Get the non-alcoholic pairing.
Entrees make their way out, starting with a petite charred Sungold tomato and peach broth bowl, an appropriate ode to the end of summer. The Fairy Tale eggplant caponata tart that follows looks like someone with far more patience than me spent a half hour delicately placing the basil, garlic chive flowers, mint and golden raisins. It's beautiful, and the flavors are balanced. I would happily eat it again—this coming from someone who isn't an eggplant fan.
The next two courses hop from Italy to Thailand. We're brought cardboard boxes, which open to reveal double-fried sweetbread stuffed chicken wings, accompanied by a watermelon hot sauce and a lime fish sauce. It's like the lunchbox you always dreamed your mom would pack you.
Our plates are cleared and a...what the hell is that? Our server sets what looks like something out of Walter White's lab onto the table, and tells us it's a Japanese coffee siphon—the bottom holds a summer red curry broth and the top Thai aromatics. As the pressure builds from the heat, the broth shoots into the top, picks up all those wonderful flavors, then settles back to the bottom. I immediately order a coffee siphon on my phone.
The curry is poured over crispy enoki mushrooms, shrimp, and coconut and the smell is absolutely intoxicating. I want to lift the bowl up to my face and drink every last drop.
We miscount what course we're on and assume we're moving on to dessert, but no. There's more. The entrees close out with a trip to a D.C. steakhouse: mini-popovers filled with chanterelle mushrooms, a crispy potato terrine, and two slices of meat from a retired dairy cow. I wish I was less full so I could appreciate it more, but the flavors are solid—I make room for as much of the popover as I can.
The parade of desserts kicks off with a blueberry shortcake paired with whipped Brillat-Savarin cheese, a fairly light but immensely satisfying dish. I give the win to the roasted fig crostata, though. Straight out of the oven and into my mouth. The crostata is bursting with end of the season figs, one of my all-time favorite fruits, and paired with a 'sundae bar' made up of toasted coconut, macerated figs, and three flavors of ice cream. It's a decadent, blow-out finish to the meal. Kathryn crushes me and Logan on this dish, finishing off almost every single ice cream herself.
Our guts busting, we've completed our meal. Wait, no, we haven't. Not until we finish off Logan's "freedom from a shitty job" Italian cake and gelato. Not until we polish off the Chartreuse, Campari, Grappa, and Nardini donuts. It's only then that we are allowed to raise the white flag of surrender and roll out of the restaurant.
As we headed towards the front door, the hostess gave us each a bag to take home with breakfast for the next morning: a bottle of iced coffee, shortbread cookies, and a thank you note from chef Silverman.
I had almost given up on high-end tasting menus years ago, after an extremely boring, extremely expensive meal at JAAN Singapore. This meal has brought me back. Truly, the food, the drinks, the service—I won't forget any of it. Silverman and his team know how to make people happy. It's not overly formal, there's no stuffiness that tends to go with high-end dining. The food isn't all foams, gimmicks, and molecular gastronomy. The meal was fun. And for me, that makes it worth the money.
Next time you're in D.C., go for it. Get a table at Pineapple and Pearls and have a meal you won't forget.
Eating Around D.C.
Regrets. Late night orders of McDonald's delivery in Singapore. That yellow crewneck sweater I wore senior year of high school. Getting so drunk in Korea that I was too hungover to visit the DMZ.
Picking Boston over D.C. for college. I don't know what I was thinking, choosing the suburbs of Medford/Somerville over Georgetown or Foggy Bottom. I never grew to love the angry Bostonians, the horrible drivers, or the consistently late, terribly run T.
My first visit to D.C. was in 2009, when my brother was a freshman in college there, and I've found myself visiting annually since then. Even with the horrendous traffic and bullshitting lobbyists, I've found myself growing fonder and fonder of it. It feels alive, and it feels like it's moving in a positive direction—particularly when it comes to food.
I don't know if it's a new generation of D.C. chefs rising up or investors drawing talent from other cities, but their restaurant scene in the last 5 or so years has become amazing. Last year, I hit up two of my favorite restaurants, Little Serow and Rose's Luxury, and this year I did even better (including Tail Up Goat, The Partisan, Maketto, and Pineapple and Pearls), though not every meal deserves its own post.
For breakfast, sister restaurants A Baked Joint and Baked and Wired served me well. The latter, in Georgetown, is known for its cupcakes—and they have a lot of them—but I couldn't resist the huge, golden caramelized onion and goat cheese biscuits. At A Baked Joint, it was matcha lattes and sriracha peanut butter toast.
Another morning was at Slipstream, where my brother's girlfriend insisted that we order chai lattes and various toasts (#BasicBitches).
Coffee at Baked and Wired
Biscuits at Baked and Wired
Bread at A Baked Joint
Sriracha Toast at A Baked Joint
Matcha Latte at A Baked Joint
Slipstream
Chai Latte at Slipstream
Blueberry Toast at Slipstream
Butter and Jam Toast at Slipstream
Across from Dean & Deluca in Georgetown is Olivia Macaron, where I indulged in a pistachio macaron (I always need to try the classic), a Fruity Pebbles mac, a s'mores mac, and a Cinnamon Toast Crunch, which was easily my favorite. This was immediately following that giant biscuit, so I did my best to walk it off before we hopped in the car and drove to Union Market, maybe my favorite place to hang in D.C.
Union Market is packed full with food stalls ranging from arepas to bagels to local cheeses to rare spices. And it's only about 10 minutes from where my brother lives! I couldn't resist Neopol Smokery, getting a smoked whitefish sandwich my first visit, then the smoked salmon BLT and smoked mussels when I returned. Plus some Thai iced tea ice cream. And a donut. Oh, some chocolate bars too. And also a couple Korean tacos.
Macarons at Olivia Macaron
Georgetown
Entrance at Union Market
at Union Market
Smoked Whitefish at Union Market
Ice Cream at Union Market
In N Out Burger
Besides being close to Union Market, my brother's also within walking distance of Shake Shack, so I had to sneak over there. Cheese fries, I can't quit you!
Tail Up Goat
I plan trips around food. For years, I'd scour over menus and reviews before and after picking a restaurant, but I found that going in with all these preconceived notions was ruining the experience. If they didn't have a signature dish, or it wasn't as good as I expected, I was let down. I decided that what I'd do is look for places that showed up on multiple "best of whatever city lists" or places recommended to me by friends/bloggers I trust, and just go. No reading the menu. No reading reviews. Tail Up Goat was my first stop in DC and I knew two things about it: Bon Appetit mentioned it in their Washington D.C.: Restaurant City of the Year article, and the team behind it came from Komi and Little Serow, the latter being one of my favorite restaurants I've ever been to.
Situated at the northern edge of Adams Morgan, Tail Up Goat has an almost beachy vibe, with pale blue walls and warm wood tones. It has a similar vibe to Rose's Luxury—it's comfortable enough to be a casual neighborhood spot, but could easily work for a business dinner or date night spot.
The menu is meant for sharing; the waiter recommended two dishes per person and, for the first time in my life, we three all agree on the same six dishes.
Crispy salt cod fritters nuzzled in a bed of smoked cauliflower puree start the meal off on a high note, taking us back to the trout beignets we had at a gut-busting epic meal at Niche last winter. Following close behind is the cucumber + melon plate, though after a few bites I wish the melon wasn't there at all—the rest of the plate, potato, smoked trout roe, pepitas, and dill, works better without it, in my opinion.
Jill Tyler, one of the owners, told us the bread courses—I'm hesitant to call them toast or bruschetta—couldn't be missed. I've been living off Union Loafers bread for almost a year now, so I consider myself the Jim Lahey of bread eating. I cut into the seaweed sourdough, making sure not to lose any of the pickled mussels, whipped lardo, or sea beans on top, and take a bite: pure gluten bliss. The brown rice bread is an umami bomb with summer squash, yogurt, black garlic, and benne seeds. If I could turn back time, I would just order 3 orders of each of these.
Tail Up Goat in Washington, DC
Jalapeno Watermelon Water at Tail Up Goat in Washington, DC
Cucumber, Melon, and Potato at Tail Up Goat in Washington, DC
Crispy Salt Cod at Tail Up Goat in Washington, DC
Cucumber & Melon at Tail Up Goat in Washington, DC
Seaweed Sourdough at Tail Up Goat in Washington, DC
Brown Rice Bread at Tail Up Goat in Washington, DC
I'd later find out that Tail Up Goat's lasagna is a "must try" dish, but I had no idea at the time of ordering. Instead, we pick the sweet corn ravioli, finished with sungold tomatoes, fresno peppers, and caper breadcrumbs, a summertime dish that's gone in seconds. I appreciate there being a lighter option on the pasta side (which is the main reason we didn't get the goat lasagna).
It's not a Whiskey and Soba family meal if there isn't a mountain of meat at some point. In this case, that mountain is made up of grilled lamb ribs—my favorite fatty cut of lamb when I'm feeling like a glutton. I particularly enjoy them when they're prepared with Middle Eastern flavors, like sumac and dukkah.
Corn Ravioli at Tail Up Goat in Washington, DC
Lamb Ribs at Tail Up Goat in Washington, DC
I would consider my first foray into somewhat blindly picking a restaurant to be a success, and I'm convinced that by the time I visit D.C. again, this place will be nearly impossible to get into. Get in while you can.
[one_third id="rcp"]
Tail Up Goat
Address
1827 Adams Mill Road NW Washington, DC 20009 202.986.9600 [/one_third]