Stuff to eat. Mostly around St. Louis.
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?
Tai Ke
If I were planning an ultimate eating trip through Asia, I'd start in Japan, bounce down to Taiwan, swing over to Hong Kong, dive down to Vietnam, then finish things off in Singapore. Surprised to see Taiwan on the list? You shouldn't be. The sub-tropical island off the Southeastern coast of China is a food mecca, full of some of the most food-obsessed people I've ever met. There are two sides to Taiwanese cuisine: street food and restaurant food. I spent little time at actual restaurants in Taiwan, and almost every dish I ate at them was similar to the Hokkien Chinese food I was eating on a daily basis in Singapore. This means a lot of noodle soups, braised meats, and tons of seafood.
Tai Ke is St. Louis' newest and only Taiwanese restaurant, as far as I know. I wasn't overly excited about eating there until my sister went and told me they had a Taiwanese Street Snack section of the menu.
I fucking love Taiwanese street snacks.
I nearly shutdown from culinary overload at the Shilin street market. Fried chicken breasts the size of a small child, sausages of all sizes and flavors wrapped in sticky rice, penis-shaped waffles and ice cream, dumplings galore, tofu that smells like a rotting corpse (okay, maybe not that one), bubble tea! I'm getting all hot and bothered just thinking about it.
Newcomers to the St. Louis blog scene JeniEats and Eat First Worry Later joined me for my culinary adventure to Tai Ke. We started with the braised pig ear, which weren't the kind I was familiar with. These were served room temp and were more crunchy than soft, a texture I imagine most Americans will be turned off by. Had there been more of the garlicky, sweet soy on the dish, I think they would have benefited.
I was overjoyed when the street snacks hit the table. We started with the gua bao, pork belly buns, which were meaty chunks of braised pork belly sandwiched between steam bread with cilantro, ground peanuts, pickled mustard greens, and a sweet sauce. The pork doesn't have that crunchy outer layer that Hiro's have, but I thought these were still definitely worth ordering.
The Taiwanese have an affinity for tube meat and sticky rice. It's the Asian version of a hot dog and bun. The sausage itself is a sweeter, fattier dog than you find in pretty much any Western cuisine, making it all the more delicious. Diabetics thought they were cool to eat hot dogs, but not in Taiwan! The sausage is drizzled with the chef's secret sauce (it's like a Chinese ketchup, almost) and some cilantro. I love these.
Finally, we have the fried pork chop. It's a pork chop with a crunchy five-spice infused breading. You're goddamn right it's good.
The entrees were just as solid as the starters. The Three Cup chicken is a steaming bowl of chopped chicken in a deeply flavorful sauce of rice wine, soy sauce, sesame oil, roasted garlic, ginger, and Chinese basil. I imagine Chinese and Taiwanese grandmas across America started making their versions of this this past week to help fight the cold.
The sizzling bean curd comes out hissing and bubbling like the fajita platter at Chili's, except it actually tastes good. The tofu is fried, then put on a cast iron platter with bell peppers, onions, snow peas, and leeks. It sounds like your typical stir fry, but I thought the sauce was fantastic.
Both the mapo tofu and spicy shrimp stir fry were both leaps and bounds better than their descriptions would make you think (and compared to most Chinese restaurants around). The mapo tofu had a nice level of heat to it thanks to chili oil and Szechuan peppercorns and the shrimp, labeled as "hot" with 3 chili peppers, wasn't nearly as spicy as I feared it might be. The flavor of the dish was spot on thanks to a hearty helping of roasted garlic, scallions and more Szechuan peppercorns. Roasted garlic makes every dish better.
Out of all the new Chinese restaurants I've gone to this year, this was the most solid first impression I've had. There's not one dish up there I wouldn't recommend (well, maybe the pig ear plate). Eating there did what any good meal should do: it left me full, happy, and wanting more. The famous Taiwanese braised beef noodle soup will be my next order.
The restaurant is tucked away behind a shopping center off Olive Blvd., right near Dao Tien, and I highly recommend you make reservations. We went on a Wednesday night and saw tons of people get turned away due to the 30+ minute wait.
Tai Ke
8604 Olive Blvd
St. Louis, MO 63132
314.801.8894
Gobble Stop Smokehouse
I've written about Gobble Stop Smokehouse before, a family-owner BBQ restaurant in Creve Coeur specializing in poultry, but I wasn't happy with my photo of their turkey ribs. At least that's the excuse I'll use. I don't have much to add to my last post - this place has the best smoked poultry in town. My go-to are always the turkey ribs; they're smokey, they're juicy, they're meaty. Look at them compared to the corn on the cob below. Big.
If I'm not getting the turkey ribs, I'm probably getting the turkey tenderloin sandwich. Sliced smoked turkey tenderloin is piled high on a warm pretzel roll with portobello mushrooms, onions, and some provolone cheese. You must get this with their signature mustard BBQ sauce. Same goes for the turkey ribs. It has a unique and exceptional flavor. I've taken home extra before and used it on meatloaf and as a glaze on salmon.
A new addition to the menu is sliced turkey breast, something that has become a staple fridge item at home. The only competitor I've found that can rival its flavor and juiciness is the turkey from Truffles Butchery.
My only complaint about Gobble Stop's menu are the sides. If they can take those to the next level like they've done with poultry, they're golden.