Stuff to eat. Mostly around St. Louis.
iNDO: Thai Street Food
Restaurants are not doing well.
I imagine most of you know this already, but in case you don’t: they aren’t. No matter what they’re telling you when you pick up or what you’re seeing on social media, know that they’re all suffering. Some more than others. Many are doing “okay” at best. With little support or guidance from the government and a shift to primarily doing curbside takeout, it’s not much of a surprise.
I’ve been particularly interested in restaurants that have pivoted their concepts. You can’t expect diners to drop $100+ per person on a takeout tasting menu, nor can you expect any chef to want to do that. You want to eat iNDO’s omakase out of a plastic container just as much as Nick Bognar wants to serve it to you.
The most logical pivot for many of the higher end restaurants is to workshop a more casual concept. Something they’ve envisioned for restaurant #2 or always wanted to try. SHIFT with their sandwiches. Elmwood with their pizzas. And now iNDO with their Thai street food.
I miss iNDO, but damn, I’ll miss their Thai street food (so, Nick, you better open that restaurant ASAP)—even with us living in a golden age of Thai food in St. Louis (Chao Baan, Fork & Stix, redacted upcoming Thai restaurant).
Since I had the chance to try the whole menu and liked all of it, I figured it’s worth talking about the whole thing.
Nick's no dummy, so you’ll instantly recognize a few iNDO classics have made the street food cut. The sweet and tangy cabbage salad with candied peanuts and tamarind dressing has made the cut as-is, because it’s perfect. Lamb ribs have been replaced by baby back pork ribs in the palm sugar ribs set. I was concerned they wouldn’t be as fall-apart-tender and delicious as the lamb ribs, and that would require me to break each of Nick’s fingers, but lucky for both of us, they were just as good. Last but certainly not least is a dish that combines two of Spencer’s favorites: the braised short ribs and the smoky, rich khao soi soup.
I was debating how to go about ordering my talking points, but it’s easiest to just go straight down the menu. Let’s go.
Chicken satay skewers: I love satay. I love meat on a stick. I especially love the red curry coconut peanut sauce you get for dipping these. I’d recommend this dish if it was just a bowl of that, TBH.
Papaya salad: A Thai classic, mixing all the things you love into one dish. It’s sweet, crunchy, fresh, a bit tart, and it’s got a special little somethin’ from the candied shrimp.
Chicken wings: One of my favorites FOR SURE. After they’re marinated, they’re dredged in cornstarch and fried twice, insuring they’re extra crispy and extra delicious. They’re topped with some crispy garlic and Nick’s top secret spice mix (there’s salt, pepper, and sugar involved) and served with some spicy, herby naam jim. I will not share these with you.
Poke: It’s not like Nick could completely avoid working with raw fish. His take on poke is a bit more Thailand than Hawaii, as you’d expect, but damn it was good.
Vegetarian cold noodles: My girlfriend tried these before I did and immediately became Gollum. I was given one (measly) bite, but considering how she devoured them while saying, “my precious, my precious”, I think it’s safe to say they’re a solid choice.
Crab & shrimp fried rice: Just what you expect, but probably better. Dried shrimp give it that Thai funk you crave.
Spicy Thai sausage (Sai Oua): My favorite of all the dishes, I think. A fairly traditional herb-packed sai oua sausage served with the same naam jim as the wings.
Fried sweet bananas: I mean…tempura fried bananas topped with condensed milk and toasted coconut.
Cabbage Salad | onion straws, candied peanuts, tamarind dressing
Chicken Satay | coconut peanut sauce, cucumber salad
Chicken Wings | crispy garlic, naam jim
Crab & Shrimp Fried Rice: blue crab, candied shrimp, egg, scallions
Papaya Salad | avocado, candied shrimp, candied peanuts, tomatoes
Poke | daily fresh fish, sweet soy, crispy chips
Thai Sausage (Sai Oua) | sticky rice, spicy thai chili sauce, fried shallots
Vegetarian Cold Noodles | crispy shallots, ground peanuts, sweet soy
Fried Sweet Bananas | condensed milk, toasted coconut
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
Union Loafers Pizza Night
There are a lot of things to love about Union Loafers: its bread, its lunch options, its modern-yet-classic decor, its proximity to La Patisserie Chouquette, and the adorable duo of Ted Wilson and Brian Lagerstrom (aka BMan). What I love the most is pizza night. One day, in a better world, Loafers pizza night will be every night, but for now, it's just Wednesdays. And how glorious those Wednesdays are. At 6pm, the doors fly open and the tables fill. If you're not there right at 6, whip out your phone and get in line on NoWait—because you're definitely going to be waiting. Besides pizza, your only option is alcohol and an Italian salad, which I would consider a must-order. Brian's the salad and soup whisperer, and this one—chock full of garbanzo beans, fennel, olives, and pickled peppers—proves it.
You have a choice of 5 pizzas, with prices for the classic Classic (tomato, mozz, basil) starting at $17 and running up to $25 for their spinach, garlic, lemon, bacon, and mozz pizza. Whoa, that's expensive! you're thinking to yourself right now. No, you are wrong. These pizzas are 16"+ (the same size as a Domino's/Imo's x-large) and can easily feed 2-3 people each. The first time I went, I got a single pizza for myself and ate it for almost 3 days.
Ted and BMan let me hang out during pizza night prep so I could watch the magic happen. Ted is camera shy, or possibly is in witness protection, so BMan was my focus—though that shouldn't much of a surprise, since Lagerstrom is Swedish for 'sex appeal'.
Come, let's see them in action:
After getting prep completed, BMan takes a break to listen to music, check out Instagram, and prepare his body for a three-hour pizza onslaught with a can of Perrier. This post is not sponsored by Perrier, but I wish it was. Perrier—call me.
Ted prepares the first pizza to go out. All is calm and quiet as the master gets to work. He steps back, approves of his work, and puts it in the oven. What comes out looks and smells like a pizza dream. I try to steal a piece, but Ted slaps it away with his strong, manly hands.
The crew.
Oh, and if you're going for lunch any time soon, make sure to get the chicken and rice soup and/or the rare roast beef sandwich with pickled peppers, gruyere and 'bistro sauce'.
I feel like you readers should send me cash for improving your lives so much.
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!
Union Loafers
I'd heard the rumors for nearly two years: Ted Wilson is going to open a bakery, they'd say. It's going to be by La Patisserie Chouquette and Olio, they'd whisper. Ted's bread is better than any bread you've had before, they assured me. Years went by and not once did I see this mysterious Ted Wilson, nor did I find his bread anywhere. I'd sit at Chouquette staring longingly at the empty shop across the street while Patrick and Simone consoled me with caneles and frangipane. I gave up hope. I moved on. I filled that calorific deficit with fried chicken.
Then the flood of texts and tweets came: Ted had appeared in our time of need, much like Jesus or Gandalf, and he had bread in tow. Union Loafers was here!
It took me 2 weeks to get over to Loafers—leave off Union, like the cool guys do—which gave my chef and 'foodie' (I hate that word) friends plenty of time to ridicule me for not going there immediately.
To be honest, I didn't rush because I just didn't see how a bakery and sandwich shop could be that good.
union loafers st.louis interior
union loafers st.louis bar
It is that good. I don't know what Ted (and Brian Lagerstrom, formerly of Niche) do to their bread, but they've got me carbo-loading like I've got a race to run.
union loafers st.louis menu
union loafers st.louis bread
union loafers seasoning pork
union loafers chef ted wilson
union loafers st.louis bakery
Loafers offers six bread options at the moment—I bought them all. I've never walked out of a bakery with a bag that not only was big enough to fit a toddler in, but weighed as much. They also have a constantly evolving lunch menu made up of salad, soup, and sandwiches.
I had just watched Brian prepare a batch of pork for the oven in the back, so I had to go with the Roasted Pork Sandwich, served on a small ciabatta roll (ciabattini, son). It may sound like any sandwich you'd get at Panera or Whole Foods—roasted pork with country ham, gruyere cheese, pickles, mustard, and a garlic mayo—but it's not. It'd be like saying a Toyota is the same as an Aston Martin just because they both have wheels, doors, and an engine.
This is a lumberjack sized sandwich with meat piled up high. If you're new to eating sandwiches without processed meat or vegetables that had been vacuum sealed weeks before, you may be shocked at the wonderful flavors and textures, but don't be alarmed. This is what a ham sandwich should taste like.
Other sandwich offerings include turkey & swiss, ham & cheddar, smoked beets, and almond butter and raspberry jam. I got serious order envy seeing one of the nut butter sandwiches get delivered.
Of all my food weaknesses, few can compete with what happens when I'm near sweet, sweet carbs. In my earlier days as a fat youth, I'd come home from school and chowdown on a bagel or whatever bread we had in the house like there was no tomorrow. Coming home with pounds of bread and trying to hide it from myself had the same result.
First off, the Rye bread: organic whole rye, organic sifted wheat, caraway seeds (there's something about caraway that sings to my Jewish soul, much like Neil Diamond), sea salt and water. It's airy and hearty, screaming to be sliced and covered in some kind of meat. I felt myself morphing into a New York Jew as I ate this, looking for chopped liver or smoked tongue to put on.
The Light & Mild is what I'd describe as an everyday bread. It's base is nearly the same as the rye, just omitting the caraway and using whole wheat instead of rye, but that makes all the difference in the world. It's...well, lighter and milder.
Ciabatta is much less exciting than the other two to me, but still—tasty.
While the breads above are wonderful and perfectly suitable for expanding your waistline and thighs, the bakery's 'snacks' are much, much sexier. The comically sized pretzel didn't even make it home. I started eating it as soon as I walked out the door and by the time I walked in the door, I was just flicking the salt flakes off my shirt. It's soft. It's pretzely. It goes fantastically well with their housemade grain mustard. If they add a cheese sauce to the menu, I'll have to bring a change of pants with me every time I go.
The pizzas, formally known as pizza rosa and cheesy bread, give the pretzel a run for its money. I watched Ted make both as I slobbered on the floor of the bakery like a dog. He foolishly set them in front of me to let them cool. I had visions of just taking the whole pie (loaf? sheet?) and running out the door, but Ted seems like he's fit enough to catch me.
Pizza rosa is simple tomato and chili oil slice, while the cheesy bread is a lot like the breadsticks you get from Dominos/Papa Johns if they were fucking unreal. When I got home, I tried every bread. I cut myself a slice of the cheesy bread. I cut myself a slice of the rosa. I triumphantly put the cheesy bread in some tupperware and set it aside.
One hour later I snuck back downstairs and finished both the rosa and cheesy bread.
I've never been hungrier writing a post. Brb. Heading to Loafers.
Union Loafers
1629 Tower Grove Ave
St. Louis, MO 63110
314.833.6111
The Shaved Duck
In 2008, two very different men opened two very different BBQ restaurants in St. Louis, and both have been wildly successful. Smoked meat guru Mike Emerson opened the doors to Pappy's, a national treasure, and inspired many to open their own small, casual BBQ restaurants around town.
Not long after, Ally Nisbet, owner of The Scottish Arms, opened the doors to The Shaved Duck, an upscale-casual restaurant and bar off Pestalozzi Street. Both have made their way on to TV, with Pappy's hosting Adam Richman of Man Vs. Food and The Shaved Duck getting a visit from human hedgehog, Guy Fieri. The combination of good food and small screen fame means these restaurants have another thing in common: a wait.
We arrived at about 6:15 on a Friday. After our 30ish minute sojourn at the bar, we were seated and promptly delivered bacon fat popcorn with pulled pork house rub and white cheddar. This > boring dinner rolls.
This was my first trip to The Shaved Duck (recommended, once again, by Chouquette's Patrick Devine) so I decided to go fully fatty. Our first starter was something I rarely eat anymore: fries. I was waffling back and forth about getting these, so our waitress gave us a "small" sampler. But these aren't ordinary fries...
These are SMOTHERED fries. They make a gooey cheese sauce, one of mankind's greatest inventions, toss in pulled pork, then smother those fries with it. Summary: cheese sauce, fries, pulled pork. That literally can't be bad.
Popcorn at The Shaved Duck
Fries at The Shaved Duck
Smothered Fries at The Shaved Duck
Their smoked chicken wings came highly recommended, so we had to get some of those. Not wanting to over do it, we went with a half pound. They were fairly large as far as wings go with a nice smoky taste and good seasoning. I do think Gobblestop's are better, but these were solid. I also enjoyed their mango-habenero BBQ sauce, whose flavor profile I haven't had before in a sauce, I don't think.
These are burnt ends, which are just like little bombs of brisket. It's hard for me to critique BBQ. In my head, it usually falls into one of three categories - bad, good, great - with the good section having the widest range. Most burnt ends taste similar, as they're just the tough odds and ends of brisket cooked for a lonnnnnng time. These fall under the "good" category for me.
Chicken Wings at The Shaved Duck
Burnt Ends at The Shaved Duck
If a menu offers buttermilk cornbread as a side, I will get it 9 times out of 10. This one had a much more prominent corn taste than my mom's recipe, which I enjoyed. It was served in an extremely hot skillet with a side of honey butter, which makes it just that much more difficult to resist. I definitely recommend this. If I was forced to pick 3 of the starters we got, I'd replace either the burnt ends or wings with this.
No, we did not eat an entire whole chicken. We knocked out probably a quarter of their whole smoked & roasted chicken then took the rest home for some weekday lunches. The flavors were similar to the wings. What I was hoping for was a smoky taste with juicy meat and that's exactly what we got.
I'm not a big meatloaf fan (even the name turns me off, like sour cream), but the smoked meatloaf was probably my favorite dish of the evening. It was moist, smoky and meaty, plus it came with a root beer glaze. There's not much more you can ask for in a dish called 'smoked meatloaf'. I traded half of my entree (below) to get half of this one.
Cornbread at The Shaved Duck
Chicken at The Shaved Duck
Meatloaf at The Shaved Duck
Considering the restaurant is called The Shaved Duck, I had to give their slow smoked duck a go. As with the meatloaf and chicken, the meat was juicy. The taste of overcooked, dry duck makes my toes curl and I become irrationally angry. The thin layer of skin was deliciously crisp, but I think it was the cherry-juniper jam that made the dish a stand-out. What I liked about both of these last two entrees is that they weren't typical BBQ fare, but they still had that smoky BBQ flair.
Duck at The Shaved Duck
As if all this meat and BBQ sauce wasn't enough, we also were persuaded to try the gooey butter brownie. Put a good gooey butter cake and a good brownie together and what do you get? Diabetes! And a good dessert.
Brownie at The Shaved Duck
It's worth your time and the calories to take a trip to The Shaved Duck. Aim for a weekday evening or early on the weekend to avoid the wait.
2900 Virginia Avenue
St.Louis, MO 63118
314.776.1407