Stuff to eat. Mostly around St. Louis.
Mai Lee's Bun Bo Hue
For some time now, I have been attempting to do the impossible: eat every single item on Mai Lee's menu. That's 202 menu items, plus the Chinese menu. I've had a fair amount, but I'm still nowhere near done. At the current pace I'm going, I should finish when I'm 35. I have two favorite dishes at Mai Lee, and the weather dictates which I'm ordering any given day.
Warm days call for the crepes (#54) filled with pork, shrimp, and bean sprouts. Cooler days require a big bowl of #17, bun bo hue (boon bo hway). What is this mysterious soup and why you should stray from your usual bowl of pho? Think of it like this: pho is Vietnamese soup on Rookie mode, bun bo hue is when you turn it up to Pro. The anchovy based bun nuoc leo, #21, is dialed all the way to All Star. I haven't even gotten there yet.
The way I've been getting through the menu is by letting Qui pick for me. A few months back, we were going through the menu and he was naming dishes he was sure I'd tried, and when he said #17, I was all like, "I have not tried that."
And he was all, "What?"
And I was like, "Yeah. No idea what that is."
He disappeared to the kitchen and returned shortly with a bowl that smelled like Christmas (in Southeast Asia). The light beef broth is heavily scented with lemongrass, the smell and taste I equate most with SEA eating, but is complimented by the wintry mix of cinnamon, cloves, and star anise. Oh, and annatto seed and fresh pineapple, as well. Add the fire of chilies and tender slices of meat to that, and you've got yourself one of the finest bowls of soup that you'll ever eat. You've also got a pantry worth of ingredients, liquified.
If you don't eat beef, you can request a chicken version instead. I'm guess Qui's team can even pull together a vegetarian option (but I can't promise anything).
I hate to say it, but I don't think I'll be going back to pho any time soon.
Buckwheat & Pecan Waffles
People often ask me, "Spencer, how do you keep such an amazing physique while eating out so often? I didn't know it was possible for a food writer to have such defined abs!" in my dreams. The answer is simple: I start the day off right! I wake up every morning looking just like Patrick Bateman, and while I do my stomach crunches (I can do 1,000 now), I heat up some waffles. Waffles?! you gasp. Yes, waffles. Buckwheat flour waffles with toasted nuts keep this machine running all day.
I'm a morning person, but that doesn't mean I want to spend time cooking right when I wake up. I want to have things that are easily crammed into my face so I can move on with my day without being hangry. Back when I worked a 9-5, this often meant toasting some kind of whole grain waffle I picked up at the grocery, but once I started reading the ingredient lists, I decided I'd be better off just making them myself. I make them, let them cool, then break them apart and freeze. All it takes is a quick visit to the toaster—or the microwave if you're really lazy—for these to be ready for a quick breakfast. Cover them with a little almond butter and honey and you're golden.
I set off on months of waffle research, ultimately finding my favorite recipe and waffle maker. My favorite base recipe for waffles came from all-time great Alton Brown. Whether you're looking for crispy waffles or softer Belgian waffles, it works great. This is an adaptation of his, which you can read here.
As for the waffle maker itself, I use this Chef's Choice 840 WafflePro Express. The packaging looks straight out of the 90s, but this thing spits out either wonderfully crispy waffles or puffy, Belgian style ones. I love it. Plus, it's super easy to clean and doesn't require any cooking spray.
So here you go, a relatively healthy addition to your breakfast portfolio. Also, waffles are 1,000x better than pancakes.
Buckwheat & Pecan Waffles
Buckwheat & Pecan Waffles
YIELD: 5-8 | PREP: 15 MIN | COOK: 10 MIN | TOTAL: 20 MINUTES
INGREDIENTS
1 C AP flour
1 C buckwheat flour
1/2 t baking soda
1 t baking powder
1 t salt
3 T sugar
2 eggs, beaten
16 oz buttermilk, room temp
2 oz butter, melted
1 C nuts (pecan/walnut)
METHOD
Toasted Nuts
Preheat the oven to 350F. Spread the nuts on a baking sheet and bake until lightly browned, 5-10 minutes. Remove and let cool. Chop (or HULK SMASH) into little pieces.
Waffle Time
Plug that waffle maker in and get it heating up.
Whisk all the dry ingredients together in one bowl. In a separate bowl, mix the eggs and butter, then add the buttermilk. Add the wet mix to the dry mix (not the other way around or you’re the worst) and stir. Let rest for at least 5 minutes.
The WafflePro recommends 1/2 cups of the batter, but I find just under 1 cup works better. You do you. Put the waffles on a wire rack when they’re done if eating later, otherwise you can go ahead and nom away.
Salt + Smoke's Burnt End T-Ravs
I can understand why other cities haven't welcomed St. Louis favorites like gooey butter cake and Provel cheese with open arms. But there's no good reason that every city in America shouldn't be serving toasted ravioli (a.k.a. t-ravs). For the uninitiated, toasted ravioli are just like your normal ravioli, except they're breaded and fried—no, there's not toasting involved here. We're talking about a Midwestern speciality, after all. The typical t-rav is filled with a nondescript meat, basil, and oregano—basically a meatball. Some are filled with cheese to appease vegetarians.
That's not the case here at The Delmar Loop's Salt + Smoke. No, sir. Salt + Smoke has, over the last 6 or so months, become my go-to for any kind of BBQ meat relating to the cow. Owner Tom Schmidt and his crew have mastered beef. Expect another post later this summer on their brisket, but in the mean time, make a note-to-self: I must go to Salt + Smoke and order the brisket. If they have the option of burnt ends, I must tweet at Spencer so he can come eat them instead of me.
Salt and Smoke
You know what burnt ends are, right? I won't say there's no shame in not knowing. You're an adult. You should know by now. Burnt ends could more appropriately be called Brisket Gold, Diamonds in Le Boeuf, or just the emoji for the crying smiley face. Super fatty chunks of the brisket are cut and smoked extra long, allowing the fat to render out and produce bites of brisket as smoky as Don Draper's office and as crunchy as meat bark can be.
They are my single favorite bite of BBQ.
Salt + Smoke takes their burnt ends, chops them up, then stuffs ravioli with them. These are ravioli that are 15+ hours in the making. It is impossible for them not to taste like heaven. Especially when served with white BBQ sauce—a tangy, even more fattening version of normal BBQ. It's mayo-based and loaded with horseradish and vinegar. It's like ranch 2.0.
To recap: fatty, smoked meat stuffed into pasta, then fried. In a post-apocalyptic world, I would accept these as currency.
Cocktail #1
The last time I went to Olive + Oak, literally every person at the tables around me had ordered the "#1" cocktail, which, fittingly, is their #1 selling cocktail. It, like many of the drinks that come from the mind of Chelsea Little, goes down a little too easy. It's not a drink that smacks you in the face and reminds you that it's going to get you drunk—it pretends to be your friend, then you get up to go to the bathroom and your legs are a little more wobbly than usual. The #1—which is the number at which it appears in Chelsea's drink journal—is bourbon based. Chelsea did me the honor of letting me pick which bourbon I wanted, so of course I went with Dickel. Not because it's good, but because the name makes me laugh every time. So you've got your bourbon, pineapple cordial (the version below differs slightly), lime, mint, and sage. Oh, and Byrrh, which is probably pronounced like beer or maybe burr. Or possibly bye-rr. I don't think anyone knows. It's like port with herbal flavors mixed in.
Your friends will be impressed by your cocktail making skills when you lay this baby down in front of them. It's a little sweet, a little savory, but it's still got the distinctive taste of bourbon. I think it would be a wise move to go ahead and make extra from the get-go. Everyone's going to want seconds (and thirds...)
Chelsea’s Cocktail #1
YIELD: 1 | TOTAL TIME: 2 MINUTES
Ingredients
1.5 oz bourbon
1 oz Byrrh
1/4 oz lime juice
1/2 oz pineapple juice
3/4 oz simple syrup
sage
mint
ice
METHOD
Pick your favorite bourbon for yourself. Pick your least favorite bourbon for your friends. Pour all ingredients into a shaker with sage, mint (a couple leaves of each will do), and ice.
Shake well, then double strain. Finish with a sage leaf on top so it looks classy.
Schlafly Stout & Oyster Fest 2016
I remember thinking that frat parties in college would be epic, just like I saw in the movies. Huge, sprawling houses would be full of cold beer, vast quantities of food, and the coolest people. As we all know, that was never the case. I never got to live that dream. Then I went to my first Schlafly Stout & Oyster fest, a wonderland of food and drink! I felt like Harry Potter when he first arrived at Hogwarts, eyes wide and full of amazement at the wonderland before him. I saw men shucking oysters at lightspeed in the outdoor "Shuckerdome"; I saw beer flowing out of a truck; I saw fried oysters being lowered from the 2nd floor by a winch and raw oysters send upstairs via pulley. I was overwhelmed.
A gameplan was formed. I would start in the Shuckerdome, then make my way through the rest of the madness.
I enter the Shuckerdome, a new addition to this orgy of excess, and make my way over to the bar. I order a Grapefruit IPA because it is unseasonably warm, and a Milk Chocolate Stout because this is Stout & Oyster fest. Two beers should last me a while, I think to myself, but then I taste the Milk Chocolate. This tastes just like real milk chocolate! By the time I have walked the 15 feet it is to the oyster line, half my beer is gone. Scrumptious.
Picking which oysters to get is too difficult, so I just decide to get a dozen and take 2 from each place. The East Coast options are Blue Point, Beaver Tail, Chesapeake Wild, and the West Coast options are Penn Cove Select, Sunset Beach, and Dabob Bay. The shuckers, I would come to find out, are some of the most hilarious people I've ever met, and they love nothing more than shucking oysters, eating oysters, and drinking beer. These guys are celebrities—20 of them were flown in just for this event and shucked for 12 straight hours Saturday. I would hate to be their forearms come Sunday.
I find a barrel to eat on and go to town on these oysters. No horseradish, no sauces. Just me, some lemon, a whole mess of oysters, and two beers. The East Coast remain my favorites, with their smaller size and briny flavor. I am saving this Dabob Bay monster for last. I don't know how to handle it—it seems like too much to go in my mouth at once time (that's what she said). It ends up being a two-biter. Like someone else said to me, some of those Dabob monsters looked like a chicken breasts in a military helmet.
Oysters eaten, beer nearly gone, I head into the courtyard of the Tap Room. Here, people are in line to get absolutely huge grilled oysters and mouthwateringly delicious fried oysters. I keep hoping someone will just give me one of their fried ones, but no one offers.
On the opposite side, they're selling souvenir samplers for about an hour before they run out of most beers and switch a commemorative glass of Oyster Stout. I have my doubts about Oyster Stout (made with real oysters), so I do what must be done and drink it. It is surprisingly tasty. To me, it tastes like a normal stout with a salty, briny aftertaste. I approve.
From there, I make my way inside. I stop by the restaurant—it's packed. I peek into the bar—it's packed. So I head upstairs, where a whole mob of people are eating or waiting to eat oysters. The shuckers up here are even funnier than the ones in the Thunderdome Shuckerdome, some with accents so thick I can't understand them. I just nod and smile. They smile and get back to work, ignoring the idiot with a camera.
I ask them how they're getting the oysters upstairs, so they show me: they have a guy out on the fire escape who calls down to another Schlafly employee, who then hooks the requested oysters onto a pulley.
I head back downstairs, ready to leave, when I pass Schlafly celebrity Stephen Hale carrying Imo's boxes for the shuckers. Lucky guys. I try to get Stephen to give me a slice, but he smartly distracts me with more beer. The Double Bean Blonde that he had told me about a few months back is on tap!
I don't know if this or the Milk Chocolate stout was my favorite, but I would happily drink either any day. The Double Bean, made with Ghanian cocoa nibs and Kaldi's roasted coffee beans, smells and tastes like coffee and chocolate, but without the heaviness of a stout. Magic.
I have to applaud the whole Schlafly team and the shuckers for their hard work. From what I saw, the event went off without a hitch, which is tough when you've got a Walking Dead sized horde of drunk, shellfish eating people wandering around. In the end, over 55,000 oysters were sold, the equivalent of 1,050 cases of beer was consumed, and it was the highest attended festival in Schlafly history.
It sounds like next year will be even more epic. Make sure you're there.
I was paid by Schlafly to photograph the event, but not to write this blog post. All opinions are my own.
Animal Style Nachos
St. Louis is getting a Shake Shack! Woohoo! To celebrate, I decided to make ShackBurger nachos—but then I happened to see a Facebook post talking about an In N Out double-double, Animal Style, and I changed my mind. If you're somehow unaware, In N Out and Shake Shack are the two coastal fast-food burger chains that people love because they treat their staff well, they don't buy disgusting meat and produce, and their food is mighty tasty. Here in the Midwest, we've got their fat, trashy cousin, Five Guys.
The main differences that I could discern from an Animal Style burger and a ShackBurger is the mustard-coated burger patty and addition of caramelized onions. Besides that, they're both just meat, bun, lettuce, tomato, "secret sauce". I know that the idea of cooking a burger patty that's been smeared with yellow mustard sounds gross, but it's vital for an accurate taste of In N Out. Even their own website says it: "a mustard cooked beef patty." So don't argue with me.
I have to say, I was quite impressed with the end result. It tastes almost exactly like a I remember an Animal Style burger tasting. I guarantee your friends and family will like you more if you make this for them.
Animal Style Nachos
Animal Style Nachos
Yield: 4-6 | Prep: 25 hour | Cook: 5 Min | Total: 30 minutes
INGREDIENTS
CHEESE SAUCE
(ADAPTED FROM SERIOUS EATS)
8 oz American cheese
1 T corn starch
1/4 t turmeric
1/4 t paprika
HAMBURGER
4-6 hamburger patties
yellow mustard
oil
salt
pepper
CARAMELIZED ONIONS
3-5 onions, diced
1 T butter
water
SECRET SAUCE
1/2 C mayo
2 T ketchup
1 T yellow mustard
1 T pickle relish
pinch of cayenne
pickle juice
TOPPINGS
1 c tomato, diced
1 c pickles, diced
1 head of romaine, shaved
METHOD
Secret Sauce
(Make Ahead)
Combine mayo, ketchup, mustard, pickle relish, and cayenne in a bowl. Add enough pickle juice (or water) to thin it out enough for easy nacho application. Set aside.
Caramelized Onions
(Make Ahead)
Melt butter in a larger, hot pan. Add onions. Cook until fond forms on the bottom of the pan. Add some water. Continue this for 15 minutes or so until the onions have really melted down into a spectacular onion jam.
Toppings
Dice tomatoes and pickles, set aside. Cut romain into thin slices, set aside.
Putting It All Together
Burgers
Heat a pan or grill. Season both sides of the burger and place in the hot pan. On the side facing upwards, apply a schmear of yellow mustard (I know this is odd, but it’s what In N Out does). After 3 minutes, flip the burgers. Cook mustard-side down another 3 minutes. Remove from the pan and chop into bite sized pieces.
Nachos
Cover all the plates you’re going to use with chips. Put the burger pieces over the chips.
Put the shredded cheeses and cornstarch in a small pot and mix. Add the evaporated milk and cook on low, stirring with a whisk continuously. Once the cheese sauce has melted, dip a chip in and make sure that the taste of the cornstarch has cooked out. If it’s all good, add the paprika and turmeric (this is just for color).
Pour the cheese sauce over the burger and chips, then top with tomatoes, pickles, caramelized onions, secret sauce, and romaine.
Nduja Nachos
Cleaning up after making my hockey game nachos, I opened the fridge door to put away the jalapenos, and I saw it. Shining bright like a diamond was a log of Salume Beddu's nduja, a fiery hot spreadable salami. It beckoned me closer and whispered, "put me in the cheese sauce." I had no choice but to obey, and into the cheese sauce went the nduja. Within seconds, the pale orange sauce turned dark with specks of red throughout. I had created liquid gold.
This cheese sauce recipe, while simple, is just outstanding. Pour it over a burger or hot dog, dip stuff in it, toss macaroni in it; the possibilities are endless!
I quickly poured the cheese over the chips, took a picture, then devoured them all.
Nduja Nacho cheese sauce
I then sent the picture to Marco, the brains behind the Beddu, and asked him how he would make the perfect Salume Beddu nachos. His answer was simple: nduja cheese sauce, crispy potatoes, radicchio slaw, roasted serrano peppers, and roasted scallions.
The resulting dish could (and should) make an appearance as one of Beddu's incredible Saturday specials. It's got heat from the cheese sauce and serranos, it's got salt and crunch from the potatoes and chips, and it has vegetables, which I hear are healthy.
For those of you unfamiliar with the Calabrian nduja (nn-do-yuh), it can be found at Larder & Cupboard, Straubs, or Salume Beddu itself. Next time you go to Pastaria, get the nduja pizza and you'll really understand just how wonderful it is.
These are, without a doubt, the most beautiful, colorful nachos I've ever made. These are the kind of nachos you can make for your girlfriend's parents to really impress them that first time they come over for dinner. Nothing says "I'm an adult man who deserves your daughter" like salami cheese sauce.
Nduja Nachos
Nduja Nachos
YIELD: 4-6 | PREP: 1 HOUR | COOK: 5 MIN | TOTAL: 1 HOUR AND 5 MINUTES
INGREDIENTS
NDUJA CHEESE SAUCE (ADAPTED FROM SERIOUS EATS)
4 oz American cheese, shredded
4 oz cheddar cheese, shredded
1 T corn starch
1 c evaporated milk
2-4 oz nduja
SLAW
1/2 head radicchio
1 lemon, juiced
CRISPY POTATOES
1 russet potato, diced
salt
pepper
canola oil
SLAW
1/2 head radicchio
1 lemon, juiced
ROASTED SCALLIONS
4 large scallions, whole
olive oil
ROASTED PEPPERS
4-6 serrano peppers, whole
olive oil
METHOD
Note: I recommend buying blocks of cheese and shredding them yourself instead of buying pre-shredded cheese.
Crispy Potatoes
Fill a small pot with water. Add salt. Bring to a boil.
Dice the potatoes, then blanch in the boiling water for about 3 minutes. Remove the potatoes and set them in a colander to dry.
Once dry, you can cook them one of two ways: you can toss them in oil then roast in a 450F degree oven until crispy (about 20 min.), or you can put them in a hot cast iron pan with oil. You pick! After they’re done, toss them with some salt and pepper, then set aside.
Slaw
Chop the radicchio up into thin strips. Toss with lemon juice. Set aside.
Toppings
Put foil on baking sheet and spray with cooking spray. Place whole scallions on the sheet, then drizzle with olive oil. Roast at 450F until they start browning (5 min. or less).
Remove scallions from the tray and roughly chop. Set aside.
Turn the oven to broil. Put serrano peppers on the sheet and broil, rotating every few minutes, until the skin is mostly charred. Remove from the oven and put in a plastic bag for 5 minutes to steam. Peel the skins and remove the seeds. Chop, then set aside.
Putting It All Together
Cover all the plates you’re going to use with chips. Put the crispy potato over the chips.
Put the shredded cheeses and cornstarch in a small pot and mix. Add the evaporated milk and cook on low, continuously stirring with a whisk. Once the cheese has melted, dip a chip in and make sure that the taste of the cornstarch has cooked out. If it’s all good, add the nduja. Prepare yourself for a foodgasm. Keep adding nduja until it has the spice level and texture you’re looking for.
Pour the cheese sauce over the potatoes and chips, then scatter the scallions, peppers, and slaw on top.
Nduja Nachos macro
Dill Last Word
Olive and Oak' bar
You would think the guy who named his website Whiskey and Soba might know a thing or two about whiskey and cocktails, but you would be wrong. I don't know anything. I know that I dislike vodka—my Russian ancestors must be rolling in their graves—and generally enjoy gin, tequila, and whiskey. All the cocktails I know how to make are basic bitch cocktails.
Looking to learn a thing or two about crafting cocktails, I've turned to Olive + Oak's Chelsea Little, a badass bartender and one of my favorite people in town. She and Nate Weber used to do an excellent job of getting me sauced at The Libertine.
I don't think she knew what a n00b I was when it comes to drinks, though. Here's how our conversation went:
CL: I'm thinking I'll make a "Dill Last Word," a play on "The Last Word" cocktail.
Me: Cool. What's "The Last Word"?
CL: It's a classic cocktail made with gin, Green Chatreuse. I use some Aquavit, too...
Me: Cool. What's Green Chartreuse? And Aquavit?
CL stabs me in the face. End scene.
Wikipedia tells me that the drink originally came from the Detroit Athletic Club in the 1920s, which just screams class.
Little's take on the drink kicks up the herbaceous nature of the drink. The glass is lined with Aquavit, a spicy spirit, and she infuses the maraschino liqueur with fresh dill.
It's easy to make and even easier to drink. Keep this handy for springtime get togethers and summertime BBQ's. It's almost like a palate cleansing sorbet that can get you drunk.
Dill Last Word
by Chelsea Little
Dill Last Word
INGREDIENTS
DILL LAST WORD
3/4 oz St. George gin
3/4 oz Green Chartreuse
3/4 oz lime juice
3/4 oz maraschino liqueur
Aquavit
Dill
Ice
METHOD
Combine the maraschino and a handful of dill in a jar. Leave overnight.
Pour a small amount of Aquavit in the serving glass and swirl it around all sides. Pour out (or drink).
Add gin, chartreuse, lime juice, maraschino, ice and extra dill to a shaker. Shake.
Double strain into a coupe glass. If you want to go totally pro, fill a spritz bottle with peppercorn tincture and spray on to finish.
Classic Red Hots Albasha
I've found a good amount of odd "hidden gem" restaurants in St. Louis, but I think this is the first time that I've found what is literally a hidden restaurant. Or maybe disguised is a better description. Classic Red Hots Albasha isn't invisible like Platform 9 3/4, of course. It's just not clear what you're getting yourself into. Driving past Classic Red Hots, it looks like nothing more than your standard strip mall hot dog shop. The sign over the door just says "Classic Red Hots." The window paint exclaims "corn dogs," "Italian beef," and "Philly steak."
But it's much more than that. Using my eagle vision, I noted a small sign in the top right of the window offering Mediterranean fare, with each dish written in Arabic and English. Most intriguing. I made a mental note to return the next week.
I step inside and my suspicions are confirmed: this restaurant is not just an American sandwich shop, but also a Middle Eastern restaurant. The decor ranges from Vienna Hot Dog billboards to paintings of far off Arab lands. The table patterns are distinctly Arabic, while the wall where you order is tiled with black and white, like a race card rally flag. My mind = blown (and slightly confused).
From what I gather, the restaurant was once simply a Classic Red Hots, serving things like corn dogs, Chicago dogs, and burgers. When the current owners bought it, they kept that aspect and added quick Middle Eastern food as well.
We discuss the menu with the owners at the counter and decide to start with their housemade hummus and kibbeh. The hummus is simple, tasting like when you make it at home, but the kibbeh is different story. Cracking open the crispy dough pocket, the heady smells of Middle Eastern cooking waft up into my face. Beef, richly spiced with cinnamon and allspice (if I'm not mistaken) is mixed with bulgur and packed inside these little crunch bombs. I dip it into the garlic-yoghurt sauce, and I am smitten. This is good!
I move on to the Sambousik, which seems to have the same beef filling, minus the bulgur. If the kibbeh is more like a samosa, this is closer to a Chinese wonton. Both are good, but I prefer the heartier kibbeh.
The deal of the day is clearly the moussaka. For $5.99, you get a gargantuan plate of food. The outer later is made up of fresh tomatoes, herbs, onions, greens. Under that are crispy fried slices of eggplant, which hide a hearty vegetable stew, chock full of more eggplant, onions, garlic, tomato, herbs, and I don't even know what else.
The main lunch dishes come next—one of which is a Chicago style hot dog. It's not something I would normally get, but I figured I might as well see if it was anything special. Nope, pretty much just your standard Chicago dog.
The beef and lamb gyro, on the other hand, was pretty damn good. Just a few weeks back I asked for gyro recommendations and almost all of them were in the city, or at least the eastern part of the county. The gyro gods have shined down upon me! The thing is massive (that's what she said), but more importantly, it's good. The meat is a mix of tender inner cuts and crispy outer slices. The sauce and toppings are all good. I'm enjoying.
The last thing we get is the kefta (kafta) burger—stop judging, a lot of leftovers are coming home with us—which is basically a Middle Eastern spiced burger patty with all your normal burger toppings.
We leave happy and full, amazed at yet another hole-in-the-wall international restaurant on good ol' Olive Blvd.
An Ode To Nachos
For as long as I can remember, there have been two foods that have held a very special place in my heart: pizza and nachos. They both offer a level of customization rarely found in other foods, they're both eaten with your hands, and they're both cheesy. So cheesy. Plus, both have the range of going from very classy (Pizzeria Mozza) to borderline disgusting (Sbarro), much like myself. In my young chunkster days, the pinnacle of my nacho eating was at the Blues games. Those salty, kind of stale chips; the plastic, neon orange cheese sauce; the world's crappiest pickled jalapenos. I loved it then and I love it now. I know that the KielSavvis Scottrade Center has fancy nacho stands now with gourmet offerings like BBQ meats and olives, but I have no interest in those. I want the crappiest $10 nachos I can get.
I got a craving for these nachos the other day, and deep in the recesses of my mind, I recalled seeing a Serious Eats recipe for nacho cheese sauce. I knew that once I started making cheese sauce, I would never stop, but resistance was futile. Recipe in hand, I headed to Schnuck's.
I grabbed the first bag of chips I saw, a jar of generic pickled jalapenos, evaporated milk, then headed to the deli counter to get cheese. I asked for roughly half a block of American cheese, to the horror of the man behind the counter. He made me repeat what I was asking for 2 more times before he finally, hesitantly, chopped it. I also grabbed about 1/4 of a block of sharp cheddar, just in case I decided to class things up a bit.
I followed Kenji's recipe and was quite pleased with the result. My American cheese lacked the neon orange color of Scottrade Center's cheese, which was fine. The texture and flavor was much more reminiscent of Shake Shack's cheese sauce, if you're familiar with that. Thinner and milkier than the plastic cheese.
As I sat there, munching away on my nachos, I started to get ideas. Crazy ideas. Wild ideas. Genius ideas?
I will make a series of out-of-the-box nacho recipes that are sure to blow minds. I've been in the nacho lab for days now, and I gotta say, there are some awesome things coming your way. Prepare yourselves. These will be perfect as the Blues march into the 1st round of the playoffs (and blow it) or for some summer time get togethers.
I advise you start playing around with Kenji's recipe, as it will serve as the basis for almost every cheese sauce I make in the coming weeks. In the mean time, if you have any genius nacho ideas, leave me a comment below. Blow my mind. Things like banh mi nachos.
Ices Plain and Fancy
Very rarely does a visit to a restaurant (or in this case, an ice cream parlor) allow me to "review" two separate subjects. The main purpose of this post is to discuss St. Louis' only nitro ice cream parlor, Ices Plain & Fancy. The secondary purpose of this post—and of my visit to Ices—is to test out an apparent miracle drug, Lactaid. While I do dabble in dairy, as seen by my plentiful pizza posts, consuming large amounts of ice cream has been known to make for difficult drives home. What better way to test Lactaid then to have a midday ice cream feast?
With its brightly painted facade, Ices is easy to spot in its Shaw neighborhood location. I park just outside (not too many people are eating ice cream at 2pm on a Wednesday) and head in, greeted by the smell of waffle cones being made. As a chunky youngster who couldn't handle his ice cream, waffle cones were my jam. Those were the days when coconut milk ice cream hadn't been invented, soy milk was still only in Asia, and people who were lactose intolerant were shunned by society. I miss the 90's.
I'm meeting Troika Brodsky, one of Ices' owners and formerly my camp counselor, for this feast. While he talks business with his partners, Max and Darla Crask, I peruse the much larger than expected menu. There are normal ices, like chocolate, vanilla, and rocky road, dairy-free ices made of both soy and coconut milk, Sump Coffee collaborations, and soft serve. There are two fancy ice specials: Campfire Smores and World's Fair Jelly Donut. I want all of these.
Oh, there are also very boozy ice cream cocktails. I cannot make a decision, so I defer all ice cream orders to Max and Troika.
The first ice cream we get is Mrs. Marshall's Old Fashioned. I assumed they had some kind of Old Fashioned concentrate that they would mix into the ice cream base, but that is not the case. Our ice cream artist literally is making an Old Fashioned and pouring it into the mixing bowl. A full cocktail's worth of Old Granddad bourbon, Strongbow Cider, vanilla, bitters, Luxardo cherry, and orange peel all go in and the mixing begins. Because they pour in liquid nitrogen, the alcohol actually freezes, meaning the ice cream you get has retained all the proof of the booze that went in.
Yes. You can get buzzed (or hammered, if you're really dedicated) from these ice creams. The result is delicious—it has all the flavors of your typical Old Fashioned, but it's edible. This is like something out of the Jetsons, a world where all foods can be consumed in ice cream form.
Lactaid update: I take the Lactaid with my first bite of ice cream, as instructed.
Max tells us he's going to whip up something special, but needs a few minutes, so Darla, the wonderful woman she is, brings me a dairy-free version of the boozy Ancho & Lefty: Ancho Reyes, Aztec chocolate bitters, ancho powder, chocolate, cocoa nibs. This is absurd. It is simply too good. I've always been a fan of Aztec chocolate—that mix of chocolate and the heat of ancho or cayenne—but this it out of this world. I stealthily push the Old Fashioned towards Troika and position my chocolate out of his reach. This is more ice cream than I've consumed in the last decade.
Lactaid update: I've had a hefty amount of ice cream in the last 15 minutes and still feel fine.
Max beckons me behind the counter and immediately creates a ball of fire using an aerosol can and a blowtorch. I ask him what he's doing (I'm not sure if this is for ice cream making, for fun, or both) and he explains that he's torching absinthe—it's Sazerac time! Templeton rye and Sirene Absinthe go into the bowl, then the final product is given another spritz of absinthe, a few drops of Peychaud's Bitters, and an orange peel. This thing would sell like beignets down in New Orleans! Troika and I work diligently to eat our three large ice cream bowls.
Lactaid update: Three ice creams in and I feel fine. I'm scared to drive home, though.
We finish things off by literally drinking the now melting ice cream cocktails. After three ice cream cocktails in a matter of about 35 minutes, I'm wildly impressed by Ices and I completely understand the massive lines that form in summer. There's something about the way the ice cream freezes with the nitrogen that gives it a much creamier, smooth taste that I love. Max said something about ice crystals, but I was 3 cocktails deep and all I started thinking about was what color lightsaber crystal I would pick if I were a Jedi. I recommend you go to Guerrilla Street Food for a late lunch, then head over to Ices. Win/win.
Lactaid Update: I hesitantly left Ices feeling perfectly fine, but well aware I had a 25 minute drive ahead of me. Then, of course, there was a car accident, changing my drive to one that took almost 45 minutes. I'm happy to say the Lactaid worked like magic. I'm back in the dairy game, baby!
Justin "The Hill Topper" Bruegenhemke
There once was a time where you couldn't get on your phone or computer to quickly find out what the best sandwich on The Hill was. You had to either find some kind of official food publication or talk to an expert. A real human! You'd schlep over to Tony's house down the road and ask him. He'd been to every single shop. He knew the owners. He knew what to eat and what to avoid. Tony was the sandwich guy, a badge he wore proudly. He probably didn't even have a job, he'd just sit in front of his house and talk sandwiches while working on his car. We don't have a lot of those people these days. Now we just have idiots on Yelp. However! We do have Justin Bruegenhemke, a young, upstanding gent who was spending his lunches eating sandwiches all over The Hill, when his neighbor asked him "what's the best sandwich?" Bruegenhemke's response: "I haven't eaten them all, so I can't tell you."
Sick of his excuses for not providing an answer to their sandwich inquiries, his neighbors laid out a challenge (or perhaps a demand?): try them all! With the guanto thrown, Bruegenhemke took on a new identity.
Sandwich Shops on The Hill
Gioia's
Adriana's
Amighetti's
Eovaldi's
Joe Fassi's
Southwest Market
Viviano's
Urzi's
Mama Toscano's
From that day forward, he would be The Hill Topper. He set about to eat 158 sandwiches from The Hill's 9 sandwich shops, a task so daunting, none had attempted it before. On January 18th, The Hill Topper project was completed—Gioia's Hogfather marked #158.
I've followed Bruegenhemke (on Twitter and Instagram) from around the midway point, growing more and more impressed with each sandwich he downed. It seemed to me that he was either my competition or my new BFF. Our shared interests in whiskey, Nick Blue's cheeseburger, and eating excessively pointed to BFF. There was only one way to figure it out: a meet-up at the home of Hot Salami, Gioia's—a place I shamefully admit I had not been to.
I get there early and hold a table, which feels like it might be a faux pas. I pull my camera out so everyone knows I mean business. The door opens behind me and there he is: dressed in all black, it's The Hill Topper. I'm fairly shocked to see he's not 350 lbs, but that probably goes both ways.
We get in line; I defer our ordering to him, seeing as he is the expert. We get the Spicy Daggett—Hot Salami, hot coppa, and capicolla, and spicy giardiniera on toasted garlic pepper cheese bread—and, off the not-so-secret secret menu, his namesake, The Hill Topper: capicolla, Hot Salami and hot beef topped with spicy giardiniera and pepper jack cheese, all on toasted garlic bread.
The sandwiches are, as with most Italian sandwiches, hefty. I already know I won't be feeling good about myself later this evening. We split each sandwich in half and swap. I start with the Spicy Daggett. GODDAMN. Most Italian sandwiches bore me, but the hot salami—somewhere between mortadella, porchetta di testa, and headcheese—is sending chills down my spine.
"I thought hot salami was just spicy salami originally, but the hot comes from being warm. You can order logs of it, then slow cook it at home for 10 hours," Bruegenhemke says. "I want to slice it thick and cook it real crispy. I want some eggs on it."
Just thinking about this on a breakfast sandwich clogs my heart a little, but it would be so worth it.
The Hill Topper is the beefy cousin of the Spicy Daggett. "I used to come in and get the Spicy Dagget, then I subbed out one of the cured porks for beef. It's much less salty and spicy because of the beef," Justin explains. He's right. It's a beautiful blend of meats and toppings.
You're hungover and craving breakfast?
Donna Do You Wanna's Heartthrob at J Viviano's
Breakfast, lunch, & dinner in one?T
The Space Ball at Gioia's
Something quick and affordable?
How does a 9inch Meatball with homemade red sauce Eovaldi's for $5 sound? Hit them up Monday-Friday for lunch.
Need warmth on a cold winter's day?
Gorgonzola Dip at Adriana's
Got the need for cheese?
The Daily State Special at Eovaldi's
Don't eat pork?
Mary's Special - Adriana's Sicilian Bomber - Eovaldi's New York Philly- Gioia's
"How long did it take for you to eat all 158 sandwiches?" I ask.
"When I decided to do it, I crossed off the sandwiches I'd had ten times and knew everything about. If there were sandwiches that I thought I’d had but wasn’t sure, i left them on and had it again. Initially, I crossed off 30 or so. I would go to Gioia's and Adriana’s all the time before."
"It took me about a year—I had over 100 sandwiches in less than 12 months. It’s a decent pace, a sandwich every other day. Also, no issue on doing half and half. You can eat half a sandwich and get what it’s about."
"Your son is going to be so proud of you one day," I say.
I ask him what his favorite of the 9 shops is. Justin answers, without skipping a beat, "I find myself telling everyone to go to Gioia’s, Eovaldi’s, and Adriana’s. These three just shine above the rest. Mama Toscano’s is good, but they only have six or seven sandwiches. It’s basically just take out. They have the best toasted ravioli’s in the world, though. They do a meatball parmesan—breaded and fried meatballs—it’s really good. Basically a toasted ravioli sandwich."
Rather than picking a single favorite, he's come up with a series of lists for you to adhere to. Coming soon on Whiskey And Soba, we'll have his "Best at Each" restaurant, and below you'll find the "Quintessentials". However, there was one sandwich worse than the rest: the egg salad at Southwest Market.
Bruegenhemke's determination is admirable, to say the least. Mere mortals would give up on such an undertaking after sandwich 50 or so. When I ask him if he's glad it's over, he seems thankful; he can go back to eating just his favorites...but there's a glint in his eyes, a smirk on his face. He's got something else up his sleeve. I nudge and prod, but he won't give in. The Hill Topper has another eating conquest in mind, but he's not ready to share it.
For his sake, I hope it's eating every salad in town. But we all know it won't be.
JB’s Quintessentials
Gioia's
Hot Salami on garlic cheese bread
Eovaldi's
The Extra Special
Adriana's
Sicilian Salsiccia
Adriana's
Joe's Special
Adriana's
The Gorgonzola Dip
Gioia's
The Berra Park Club
Gioia's
Porknado
Eovaldi's
The Godfather
Gioia's
The Hogfather
J Viviano's
The Sophia Loren
Gioia's
Spicy Daggett
Mama Toscano's
Meatball Parmesan
J Viviano's
The Butch
J Viviano's
New York Steak Sandwich
Gioia's
The Hill Topper
Recipe: Beets & Mushrooms by Chef Nate Hereford
I am an obsessive watcher of Mind of a Chef, an avid reader of high-end cookbooks, and quite possibly a restaurant groupie. I'd rather sit at the Chef's Counter in a restaurant than the first row of a Cardinal's game. With that obsession comes a new addition to Whiskey And Soba: chef recipes. The best seat in town is at Niche's counter, watching executive chef Nate Hereford and his team effortlessly create edible art. Hereford's passion for continuous improvement and working with local ingredients is infectious. He's inspired me to forage for mushrooms around my yard, which has only resulted in a psychedelic experience once.
A few weeks back, after enjoying a beautiful beet dish, I told him how hard it is for me to think of vegetarian recipes outside of your typical roasted/sautéed variety—that's when it hit me. Let's have the chef of St. Louis' James Beard winning restaurant create recipes using local and seasonal ingredients to help everyone cook better.
Hereford's first dish is beets with roasted maitake mushrooms, miso yogurt, candied pecans, oregano, and a quick spruce (rosemary for the home cooks) pan sauce. It may look complicated, but any decent home cook will be able to pull this off flawlessly.
"It's January, it's cold out, I wanted something vibrant but speaking to the season. Here we have beets, a great winter ingredient that grow really well around here in winter, as well as locally cultivated maitake (Hen of the Woods) mushrooms. I thought the earthy flavors of the two things would go really well together."
Something that struck me from my first meal at Niche was the huge variation of texture in every dish. "You want texture, but you want to balance the textures in every bite. The mushrooms have one texture, the two different kinds of beets have two different textures. When I construct a dish, I want to make sure I'm really focusing on the element you’re focusing on. The pecans are going to add sweetness as well as crunch, the yogurt gives you a creaminess, and the sauce on the plate ties it all together with acid. The oregano gives a background herbal note, refreshing your palate as you eat. Typically, when we think of dishes and start to construct ideas, we try to follow that pattern. We find that it allows constant excitement when you’re eating a dish. You’re always finding new flavors, new textures, cleansing your palate."
Beets
miso yogurt, mushrooms
by Nate Hereford
Beets with Miso Yogurt, Mushrooms
YIELD: 6 | PREP: 1 HOUR | ACTIVE: 10 MINUTES | TOTAL: 1 HOUR AND 10 MINUTES
INGREDIENTS
BEETS
12 red beets
salt
canola oil
BEET SYRUP
2 C maple syrup
2 C white distilled vinegar.
2 C water
MISO YOGURT
1 C white miso
1 C greek yogurt
1/2 C whipped cream
salt
CANDIED PECANS
1 C pecans
2 egg whites
1 C sugar
salt
MUSHROOMS
Hen of the Woods mushrooms
butter
salt
fresh oregano
1 rosemary sprig
2 T white distilled vinegar
METHOD
Beets
Preheat oven to 300.
Toss beets with just enough oil to cover, salt, then wrap beets in foil. Bake until tender, checking every 30 minutes. A knife should slide in easily. It should take roughly 1 hour. Once cool enough to handle, peel the beets (gloves are advised to avoid stained hands). Once peeled, set 3 aside. Using a mandoline, thinly slice beets about 1/16 of an inch (if using a knife, do your best to cut them very thinly). Set aside.
Dice the remaining 9 beets into assorted organic shapes. Whatever your heart desires.
Beet Syrup
Combine the maple syrup and the vinegar in a pan. Bring to a simmer. Turn the heat down and slowly reduce by about 1/2. Once brought down by 1/2, add the water, stirring to combine. Slowly reduce by 1/2 again. It should taste sweet and acidic. Brush on to or spoon over larger beet chunks.
Miso Yogurt
Whip the cream with a mixer. Blend miso and yogurt until a smooth puree is formed. Place in a mixing bowl and fold in whipped cream. Season with salt to taste. Set aside.
Whipped cream is optional if you’re short on time or lazy.
Candied Pecans
Whisk eggs whites with the sugar and salt until frothy. Add in pecans. Place on a sheet tray and bake at 325, stirring every 5 minutes until done (about 30 minutes).
Mushrooms
Tear the Hen of the Woods mushrooms into chunks and roast in a hot pan with canola oil. Finish with butter, basting until butter is browned. Season with salt.
Remove mushrooms from the pan and lower heat. Add rosemary sprig to pan and briefly cook to bring out aromatics. Deglaze pan with white distilled vinegar. Pour sauce in small bowl and set aside.
Plating
Plate at your heart’s content. To do it like Nate, spoon a dollop of miso yogurt on the plate, then use the back of the spoon to make a swoosh. Place the larger beet chunks on the miso. In between the beets, place the mushroom chunks and pecans. Place oregano in 2-3 places. Lay thinly sliced beets on top, as seen below. Drizzle with the rosemary sauce to finish.
Lunch Pick: Annie Gunn's
I get that St. Louis has a little bit of city vs. county competition, but the number of times that knowledgable food enthusiasts that I trust have brushed off "The Gunn" is both disheartening and aggravating. If your aim is to eat at all of St. Louis' best restaurants, a visit to Annie Gunn's is in order. Actually, two visits are in order. Go for lunch and ask to be seated in the semi-outdoor atrium. Go for dinner and enjoy a decadent steak dinner with the finest wines. At some point I'll write about their dinner, but this post will serve as a lunch guide.
Many moons ago, I wrote about one of my favorite sandwiches in St. Louis: the French Dip at Annie Gunn's. My pictures do it little justice. It's got a perfectly buttery and soft bun, some of the best roast beef on Earth, and the right amount of cheese. Add to that the au jus and creamy horseradish dip and you're in heaven.
A French Dip might be a bit too heavy for you daintier eaters, so I figured now would be a good time to share some of my other favorites. First off, if you're an eater of chili, theirs is a must-try. I don't really have much to say about it besides "it's really good chili." If you're the kind of person who tells people that you're just big-boned, you should probably go for the potato soup.
For main dishes, there are almost always two fish specials, and they are always good choices. Chef Lou Rook and his team are constantly changing fish and preparations, based on what's available. This past weekend, for example, they featured both fluke and rainbow trout; below is the roasted trout with a badass salsa verde on top. The dish originally came with braised greens and some kind of starch, but my dad is watching his figure, so he opted to get green beans and asparagus instead.
If you really want to take advantage of The Smokehouse Market aspect of Annie Gunn's, you should do the smoked seafood sampler (or the WOW board—I'll cover that another time). I get this all the time because I'm fancy as hell. The plate is composed of their famous Vermont maple glazed jumbo shrimp, Viking Village sea scallops, Troutdale Farm trout, and sturgeon, served with onion, tomato, capers, Pennsylvania Dutch BBQ sauce, a dill sauce, and Guinness rye bread.
The shrimp are good, but overhyped. Your server will almost certainly tell you how you can get them individually as an appetizer. They're a little too smoky and a little too sweet for me. The sturgeon is a nice meaty chunk of fish, with a light smoke and a little sweetness. To me, it tastes a lot like swordfish. My Jewish soul loves it. But nothing tops my love for the unbelievable little sea scallops, something I've tried to replicate at home but failed miserably at doing so. Oh, and the trout—once again, perfectly smoked. I sometimes get a salad with a side of the trout, when I'm feeling particularly healthy—which is rare.
You can't visit The Gunn without stopping by the Smokehouse Market, the connected market and smokehouse. Bolyard's and Truffle's have both done an admirable job of bringing meat to the masses, but no one does it quite like The Smokehouse. There is so much meat in this store, it is unbelievable. Cured meats, fresh meats, sausages, steaks wrapped in bacon, bacon wrapped in steaks. Whatever you want, they have. Their smoked chickens make for a great dinner, their roast beef (the same as the French Dip) is always great to have for sandwiches, and butcher Andrew Jennrich (formerly of Farmhaus) is there to help guide you to the right meat choice.
The Smokehouse also has its own rather large take-out menu of sandwiches and salads. The not-secret but oft ignored sandwich that really shouldn't be ignored at all is the John's Smoked Trout. The same hickory smoked trout from the seafood plate with sliced red onion, capers, cucumbers, and the dill sauce. It is so good.
Asian Kitchen
The tables have turned—for the last few years, I've held JooJoo up as my #1 Korean restaurant in St. Louis, but it seems Asian Kitchen is making a move. The last time I was at Asian Kitchen Korean Cuisine was in late 2013 for Christmas dinner. I had just come back from Asia and, like every other Jew in America, was trying to get some Chinese food. Royal Chinese BBQ: packed. Lulu's: packed. Frustrated, hungry, and bitter, I turned around and randomly picked an empty looking restaurant that happened to be Asian Kitchen.
The restaurant was dead. There was a Thai family enjoying Korean BBQ, but no one else there. It was just that family, my family, and the server, an older Korean woman. The walls had some kind of off putting paint color on them that I can't recall—something very 70's. Robin's egg blue? Vomity yellow? I took a seat, ordered something meaty, then a wave of banchan (small plates) filled the table. It took our server 3 trips to get everything on the table. We're talking 20+ bowls of kimchis, pickled greens, sweet black beans, potato salad, seaweed. Insanity.
Between the time the banchan hit the table and our mains arrived, two memorable things happened. First, I got scolded by my new Korean mother for drinking soju out of the bottle. I hadn't kicked the bad habits I'd picked up from my Korean business partners. Secondly, an older couple came in after us and they were the rudest diners I've ever seen in person. They couldn't understand why this Chinese restaurant didn't have any of the dishes they were familiar with! The waitress tried to explain that Korean food wasn't Chinese food, but they weren't having it. They refused the banchan because it was "gross". They came over to our table to ask how to order the kung pao chicken. I kindly grabbed the woman's face and held it on my searing hot dolsot bibimbap bowl. Finally, they left and made sure to let the server know they would NEVER be back.
The food we got that night was fine. Definitely authentic, but the flavors were a little bland. Not a bad meal, but not a great meal.
I've since returned. Banchan: still excessive, still delicious. You can ask for seconds (or thirds...) of any of them, and they'll happily oblige you. We had so much kimchi last time we were there, I think I've been fermented. The interior has been redone, a big plus. But how was the food?
Southwest Diner
I am not a patient man. I can wait maybe—maybe—30 minutes at a restaurant, but only if it has a bar I can sit at and bitterly nurse a whiskey while eyeballing every slow eating diner in the place. That is why I haven't posted on Southwest Diner before. Twice I tried to go on the weekend for brunch, and twice I was greeted with a wait of over an hour. Sure, they have a bus outside the restaurant you can wait in, but the last thing I want to do on a Saturday morning is listen to people babble. I just want to shovel food into my face.
Now that I've got some newfound freedom, I can go to lunch whenever and where ever I want! I called up my friend, chef Russ Bodner, and we headed over to Southwest Diner for an early weekday lunch.
There were only two tables open when we got there, the rest filled with people enjoying what looked like large, bountiful plates of Southwestern fare. I don't know the history of the diner, and I'm too lazy to look it up, but I'm going to guess that this once was a typical American diner, which has since been renovated to look like a 1960's diner in Sante Fe. I can be a little indecisive when it comes to ordering, especially when the whole menu sounds so friggin' good. I'm a Southwestern food slut; one of my favorite places to eat in is Phoenix. All those fire roasted meats and veggies, heavy use of chiles and spice, little bits of Mexican influence—what's not to love? As I waffled back and forth (that's a pun, because this is a diner. Get it?), Russ just went ahead and got himself a cup of the pork and hominy red-chile posole.
Selfishly, he offered me none of his posole, but judging by the speed he scarfed it down and by how it smelled, I'd say it was good.
His main course was worthy of a lumberjack: a smattering of crispy homefries, two perfectly cooked eggs (later doused in hot sauce), and a country fried steak topped with a homemade sausage gravy. Once again, no tasting for me—why do I even eat with this guy?—but he assured me that it was really tasty and he'd happily order it again. Even if he won't share, his opinion on food can be trusted.
My original plan was to try the enchilada, and even after all my waffling, that's what I went with: the stacked enchiladas platter, Christmas-style. If Christmas-style New Mexican food sounds familiar to you, you've probably seen Guy Fieri talking about how righteous it is, brotha, at some family-owned diner there. Half the enchilada is topped with the smoky, slightly bitter red chile sauce, while the other half has the cheesier, tangier, mellower green chile.
There's a clear winner here for me: green chile. It's got a little heat to it, but mostly, it just takes you straight to flavortown...er, it's got a great flavor. I went with barbacoa for my meat of the day, which was a solid choice, but next time I'm going with the adovada, a red-chile braised pork. It's a house specialty and quintessentially New Mexican. Both the beans and rice had nice flavor, too. I was quite pleased with my choice and will proudly admit to sharing none of it with Russ.
By the way, we got a buttermilk cornmeal pancake as a side. Don't judge us. It's research.
I totally see why people are so into these—they're like enormous arepas. I saw a tiny woman dominate a stack of these like it was nobody's business.
I have to hand it to you, Southwest Diner: you are truly a wonderful breakfast and lunch spot. Part of me wishes we'd never met, because I fear that my interest in you will soon become an obsession. Jon's fiery scrambled eggs are next.
Spice Rack Secret Weapons
I've seen so many posts from other food blogs and magazines talking about their spice rack secrets, and they're just as dumb as the sex tips Cosmo gives you. White pepper isn't a secret, and neither is za'atar. Those are normal, everyday spices. My secret weapons leave my diners wondering how. Where's the truffle flavor coming from? Why does this taste like bleu cheese?
Here are my five main secret weapons.
Bourbon Smoked Paprika
Besides salt and pepper, paprika is most used seasoning—by far. I love the sweet and sometimes smoky flavor that it brings to dishes. When I was introduced to bourbon smoked paprika, I knew I'd found something special. It was just like the first time Noah sees Allie in The Notebook. Love at first sight.
You can use it on snacks, like popcorn or Mexican street corn, but it is a total stunner when used on meat. For those of you who don't eat bacon, this can give soups that smoky, meaty flavor that will trick your brain into think it's there.
It can be purchased at Bourbon Barrel Foods or locally at Larder & Cupboard.
Porcini Powder
Porcini powder isn't a complicated ingredient: it's literally just porcini mushrooms in powder form. You could even make it yourself at home if you have dried ones and a Vitamix or food processor. Whatever you have to do, get some. Add it soup or stock to give it an extra umami hit; rub your next steak with it for a crust that will make your toes curl; mix it into a risotto for a subtle earthiness. Your friends will want to know your secret—tell them nothing.
Ozark Forest Mushrooms Porcini Powder can be found at Larder & Cupboard. Amazon has a number of options.
Shichimi Togarashi
If you're anything like me, you like a little fire in your food. You could get plain old ichimi togarashi, which is just plain Japanese red pepper flakes, but what you really should do is get the shichimi togarashi, seven-flavor chili. The tiny container contains red chili flakes, Japanese pepper, roasted orange peel, black and white sesame seeds, hemp seed, ground ginger, and small pieces of nori (seaweed).
Any time I make an Asian soup or noodle dish, it goes on. Any time I make a dish with roasted meat, it goes on. Now that I think about it, it goes in most of what I cook.
It can be found at most Asian groceries or on Amazon.
togarashi
Truffle Salt
I'm no fan of fake truffle products. The chemical taste of most truffle oils is as repulsive to me as green bell peppers are. I wasn't interested when I saw that L&C had in a truffle sea salt until I looked at the ingredients: truffles, salt. I tasted it. Sweet Jesus, truffles!
If there's anything in my pantry that I hoard like Gollum, it is this. The teensiest, tiniest sprinkle changes a whole dish. Soup's too bland? TRUFFLED. Chicken breast is boring? TRUFFLED.
Mushrooms Naturally is in the process of updating their site. Follow them on Facebook, and buy their products at Larder & Cupboard.
Black and Bleu Rub
I made my way through most of Spiceologist's rubs before finally trying this one. I'm a bleu cheese lover, but the idea of a bleu cheese powder didn't do anything to excite me. Like truffle products, I expected an artificially cheesy smell and flavor. I was wrong. So wrong.
Spiceologist mixes Rogue Creamery's bleu cheese powder—made from actual bleu cheese!—with a spicy blend of Cajun seasoning. Aside from going on your next steak, it makes for amazing french fry or potato chip seasoning.
Spiceologist Black & Bleu Seasoning
Niche's 10th Anniversary Dinner
I find myself in Niche’s kitchen, perched between the pastry station and the pass, surrounded by some of St. Louis’ greatest culinary talent. I wasn’t expecting this, mind you, so I’m not dressed for the occasion—I’m wearing a wool sweater in a very hot kitchen. Even as I slowly roast, I can feel the excitement in the air, the electric buzz of old friends getting to work together again, the nervous energy of putting on what will be one of the year’s best dinners. This evening, Niche is celebrating their 10th anniversary.
You can view the photos here: https://www.flickr.com/photos/spencerp/albums/72157660494148410
The dinner, a small affair attended by a who’s who of St. Louis chefs, bon vivants, and family, is a celebration of Niche, past and present. Ten years ago, a 25-year old Gerard Craft opened Niche in a small Benton Park space (which has since been remodeled and expanded, home to Peacemaker), a restaurant that gave way to some of St. Louis’ best restaurants in Brasserie, Pastaria (now expanding to Nashville), Taste, and Porano Pasta.
The dinner is a mostly hands off affair for Craft himself. After passing on Niche’s executive chef title to Nate Hereford last year, he’s taken on a Yoda-type role somewhere between a life coach and mentor for the chefs.
The always impeccably dressed Chris Kelling, Niche’s general manager, beckons the chefs and servers to the restaurant floor for a pre-service meeting. Each of the Niche Food Group’s executive chefs will be in charge of one course this evening (that’s 7 courses, plus one from Craft himself), and they describe it in great detail for the servers. Questions are asked, notes are taken. Craft steps up and gives a speech, praising the greater Niche family for all their hard work and giving thanks to his childhood nanny, Dia, for helping to inspire his love for food. I too thank Dia, for without her, there'd be no cheese bread.
With diners set to arrive soon, the evening’s starters make their way out front. Cacio e pepe popcorn to one side, an upsized version of the Dia’s Cheese Bread dish—charcuterie, pickled vegetables, and, of course, Dia’s cheese bread—cover the bar. I manage to grab a couple of the cheese bread balls that were leftover. God, it's good.
As the first course begins to go out, I take my seat at the end of the long table, right next to Sarah Osborn’s hilarious parents. The meal kicks off with Craft’s signature dish, The Egg. Like Dia’s cheese bread, I’ll never tire of it. An eggshell, top removed, is placed on a bed of moss and filled with a maple custard, crisp roasted shiitakes, then topped with Missouri trout dashi ‘caviar’.
I return to the kitchen just as Brasserie’s Nick Blue begins plating his course, a roasted winter vegetable salad. I’m surprised that the chef responsible for some of the richest and heaviest food in St. Louis has chosen a salad in lieu of something with bacon and/or cream, but as he plates up the first salad, I see my doubts are unwarranted. It’s a beautiful mix of whipped goat cheese, roasted butternut squash, carrots, and beets, watermelon radish, pickled radish gel, chestnut chips, and a lemon vin.
Pastaria’s Ashley Shelton follows with her cannellini bean and tuscan kale fagottini, a delicately made pasta with a parmesan brodo. The whole kitchen takes turns trying the brodo, everyone oohing and ahhing as they sip, so I join in too. My eyes roll into my head.
Having already tasted the broth, I rush to my seat at the table and let Sarah’s parents know that we’re in for a treat. Our plates arrive sans-brodo, which is then poured in slowly, its smell permeating the air. The dish hammers home the notion that simple food can be absolutely sublime. As I make my way back to the kitchen, I consider asking for a cup of brodo and some more bread. I decide against it—I still have 5 courses to go, after all.
Michael Petres, a chef with pirate tattoos who I may or may not be intimidated by, begins his dish. Every plate is given a swoop of sauce gribiche, which is like a chunkier, more flavorful mayo, and a bit of herbs, fresh radish, and pickled radish. I ask Matt McGuire, director of service, what the main component of the dish is, to which he replies with a grin, “a crispy pig’s head rillette.” I scurry back to my seat and patiently wait.
Things go dark as I cut open the crunchy rillette and get hit with the smell of pork. I devour the dish in seconds and think to myself, this is one of the best things I’ve eaten this year.
Without asking, I can tell Taste’s Heather Stone is up next because Josh Poletti just brought her a mountain of duck kielbasa. The kitchen temperature seems to rise as Stone gets a massive pot of spaetzle going, Poletti sears off kielbasa, and all of us around them are narrowly avoiding streams of duck jus exploding from said sausages. In rapid succession, the kielbasas come off the heat and are sliced, their juices and emmentaler cheese go in with the spaetzle, and plating begins.
This dish is why I love Taste. All the comforts you look for in food—it’s cheesy, smoky, fatty—taken to another level.
Nate Hereford, the man running the show for the evening, pulls his lamb out of the oven and the kitchen fills with the sweet, sweet smell of roasted meat. I’m shocked at the sheer quantity of lamb, but Nate’s clearly going big on this dish. The cooks begin pulling the shoulders and legs apart, then stacking the meat high on serving platters. For the first time in my life, I’ll be eating communal-style at Niche. I’m excited. I’m scared.
The pass is quickly covered in plates. Lamb, sourdough crepes, and little platters with yogurt, herbs, peppers, and hot sauces begin to head to the tables. Build your own epic lamb tacos! I’ve always dreamed of having an all-you-can eat feast at Niche and it’s finally happening. Sarah’s dad tries to keep the lamb from me, but I manage to get my hands on it. It is everything I thought it would be. I tell Nate’s wife that I love her husband.
I disgust myself at the amount of lamb I consume, knowing full well that I still have treats from Anne Croy, Elise Mensing, and Sarah Osborn left. As the meal starts to dwindle down, I go and sit with Mai Lee’s Qui Tran for a few minutes, during which I realize that I’ve missed Anne’s popsicle course! I dart back to the kitchen where she has dozens more, luckily. It tastes exactly like prosecco and pears. I don’t know how Anne extracts flavors so adeptly, but I tip my hat off to her.
As everything’s coming to a close, I get swept up in kitchen conversations, only to realize that Sarah’s caramel lava cake has already been served. Fearful that her dad has eaten my dessert, I quickly head back to the table. I scarf down the wonderful cake, complete with hubbard squash, honey, apples, and buckwheat, only to realize I’ve forgotten to take a picture of the plated dish. I go back to the kitchen to see if there are any extras, but get caught up along the way by everyone wanting pictures of Gerard and the crew.
People start leaving and I notice that Qui’s eating a macaron. During the chef photoshoot, I missed Elise Mensing’s mignardises, but manage to grab some in the kitchen before Poletti eats them all. The cornmeal macaroon with beet and lemon buttercream feels like an ode to summer, the brown butter sage marshmallows with pecan brittle a perfect expression of fall.
When you think of eating a 10 year anniversary dinner at what is arguably St. Louis' best restaurant, it's easy to imagine a group of pretentious chefs serving an even more pretentious group of diners. No truffles were shaved, no foie gras was seared, no foams were foamed. The meal was as much a reflection of Craft as it was an homage to him. Every one of his chefs rose to the occasion, creating Niche-level French brasserie, casual Italian, bar friendly, Modern American dishes, all of which highlighted simple ingredients being made into something special.
Craft would be the first to tell you it wasn't about him, it was about the team, the Niche Food Group family, and he's not bullshitting. I've never met a business owner who so clearly understands that the better the team, the better the organization. Yet, at the same time, it was very much about him. For us diners, the dinner was a way to celebrate not just the restaurant, but the man himself. He was a major catalyst in the St. Louis food scene not just moving forward, but leaping forward. Without him, we wouldn't have Niche, Brasserie, Taste, and Pastaria and all the great chefs that have worked in those kitchens. Without him, all the great experiences we've all had at his restaurants wouldn't have taken place. He's our first James Beard winning chef, and he certainly won't be our last.
Here's to another 10 years of not just Niche the restaurant, but the whole Niche Food Group, setting the bar for what St. Louis restaurants can and should be.
La Patisserie Chouquette
With the holidays just around the corner, you've got a lot of entertaining, gift buying, and, more importantly, gift receiving ahead of you. Impress your friends and family with a box of goodies from La Patisserie Chouquette, my go-to for all things sugary and delicious. I took it upon myself to go and try all their winter offerings so I could tell you what you need to be getting (or asking for). I'm sorry in advance for making you hungry.
The Darkness
You claim you love chocolate, but there's only one way to prove it: The Darkness croissant. If you can consume this monument to decadence, this vortex of dark Dominican chocolate, then I'll believe you. Simone spent years (decades?) perfecting this recipe and the result is, uh, perfection. Fellas, think of this as a "forgiveness grenade." Next time you do something wrong, swing by Chouquette, get one of these, and consider yourself out of the doghouse.
Turducken Croissant
Thanksgiving is over, but Chouquette doesn't care. All of December is Turducken month. These football sized croissants are filled with roasted turkey, duck, and chicken mixed with Simone's famous smoked bacon and cheddar cornbread (see below), cranberry orange chutney, and a smattering of French fried onions. Each croissant comes with a side of gravy. Good luck.
Red Velvet Cheesecake
This is the classic Red Velvet cake flavor in Chouquette's soft, sensuous cheesecake. It's topped with waves of rich chocolate cream and a macaron shell garnish. Additionally, it's cut into a rectangular shape so you can easily eat it with just your hands while driving. At least I think that's why it's cut like that…
Canelé
So many Chouquetters get caught up in the glitz and glamour of the cakes, eclairs, and macarons that they end up ignoring these little brown thimbles called canelé (can-ul-ay). That's a rookie mistake. These are my favorite pastries...ever? The outside is crunchy, the inside is soft and pillowy with hints of vanilla and, if you're lucky, lemon and thyme. It's like a tiny cake made with crepe batter. The flavor is sublime.
Chouxnuts
Just after scolding you for only buying the pretty pastries, I'm telling you to buy them. Chouquette's take on the Paris-Brest, a round eclair, are their chouxnuts. Get it? It's a choux pastry but it looks like a donut. The fillings change daily and have included matcha, strawberry, apple cheesecake, bourbon pecan, and Boston cream pie, to name just a few.
Bacon Cornbread Muffin
It's a muffin made out of cornbread mixed with cheddar cheese and smoked bacon. What else do you need to know?
Tiramisu Brownie
For a good portion of my life, I didn't like any desserts except for tiramisu. No tiramisu on the menu? No dessert for Spencer. I've since branched out (obviously), but it still holds a special place in my heart. This brownie—which is almost as massive as the Turducken croissant—hits the spot.
Macarons
You knew these would be on the list, didn't you? No one in St. Louis is doing macarons better than Chouquette. Each little sugary sandwich is packed with flavor, and their fall/winter selections so far have been particularly delicious, including gingerbread, eggnog, "skinny mint", red velvet, and more.
For the full range of what Chouquette has to offer, make sure to go on a Saturday!
La Patisserie Chouquette
1626 Tower Grove Ave
St. Louis, MO 63110
314.932.7935
Sidney Street Cafe
Eating like a boss runs in the family—I got it from my daddy. For my dad's birthday, he decided he wanted not one, but two birthday dinners. The first at Sidney Street Cafe (SSC), the second at Niche. Not in the same night, mind you, but just a mere 2 days apart. I had seen SSC's chef de cuisine Justin McMillen just a few weeks before our dinner, when he was cooking at the Bolyard's Burger Battle. He kept talking about all these new dishes and they just sounded so good that I used my powers of persuasion to convince my dad that is where he wanted to eat.
Then again, it's not too hard to sell a hot dog gnocchi dish to a man who loves meat. Yes, that's correct: SSC has a hot dog and pretzel gnocchi dish. It's the second time this year I've had a hot dog inspired dish at a fine dining establishment and that is totally cool with me. This version was made up of a sliced house-made hot dog, spicy ketchup, pretzel gnocchi, pickled mustard seed, pickle-tomato relish, and a beer mustard veloute. If someone has had a finer hot dog dish than this, bring it forward! I'm doubtful one exists.
In need of a meatless option for the ladies, we went with the octopus confit—a thick tendril of tender octopus over salsa verde and pozole, Eiffel Towered by Swiss chard chips. I didn't get much of the octopus itself, but I ate most of the pozole. I love the puffed up, juicy bites of hominy.
Our last meal at SSC was in late summer, just after the Spatchcock Quail was added. It's about to leave the menu to make room for another fowl dish, but my thoughts remain the same: the tiny, adorable bird is grilled and served over harissa tossed papas bravas (fried potatoes), charred carrots, and chimichurri. It’s a perfect dish for summer with its smoke and char flavors.
The two newer dishes we got were even better. Even more outstanding.
First, we have the wood grilled snapper—a dish that looks pretty simple, but it's anything but that. The fish was perfectly cooked, the flesh white and tender with hints of smoke and a nutty sweetness some a brown butter vinaigrette. To enhance the smoke, the fish rested over a house made nduja puree, a spicy, smoky spreadable sausage.
The accompaniments were just as bold and delicious: squid ink gnocchi, bok choi, finger limes, and manila clams. Justin told me to get the pork belly special, so that's what I did...even though I'm not a huge fan of pork belly. However, he's bigger than me, so I relented. And boy, I'm glad that I did.
The pork belly was the crispiest I've ever had. Anywhere. I had a video on my phone of me tapping on it so I could send it to friends and family to make them jealous. The slightly blurry picture below does a decent job showing that top layer, I think. Eating a chunk of the pork belly, simultaneously as crispy as can be and as tender as meat gets, with the pickled pepper salad, chicharrones, smoked pig heart, and Cajun grillade sauce, was one of those moments where the world goes dark around you and you just think about how good what you're eating is. As usual, the Bob "The Zuggernaut" Zugmaier's desserts matched the entrees in both looks and flavor. His take on sweet potato pie ('tis the season, after all), a collaboration with his pastry assistant, Kelsey, was composed of: candied yam puree, sweet potato pastry cream, orange cardamom semi freddo, spiced pecans, and a winter spice tuile. Just like the sweet potato pie you make at home.
The apple dish was the family's favorite, though. The combination of caramel glazed Granny Smith apples, cinnamon coffee cafe, a caramel apple puree, creme fraiche ice cream, and the espresso gelee is a tough one to top. I would have gladly just had the coffee cake and gelee, though. They were so good.
And so ends another successful trip to Sidney Street.