Stuff to eat. Mostly around St. Louis.
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
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.
tai ke braised pig ear salad
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.
tai ke pork buns
tai ke sticky rice sausage taiwanese st.louis
tai ke taiwanese pork chop st.louis
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.
tai ke taiwanese st.louis three cup chicken
tai ke taiwanese st.louis tofu
tai ke taiwanese st.louis mapo tofu
tai ke taiwanese st.louis shrimp spicy
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.