400 Olive's is described on its website as an "urban grille [that] takes advantage of our location by placing diners in an elevated corner of the hotel’s atmospheric charm. Warm and welcoming." What they should have said is "a typical overpriced, underwhelming hotel restaurant that is strangely located next to the reservations desk."
This was a Groupon we kept putting off, so long so that we had three days left on this one-year valid discount. I didn't know at the purchase time that this restaurant was in the downtown Hilton, otherwise I would have keep looking. We arrived around 6:30 and the hostess sat us quickly in a small table along the wall, which was fine. Our waiter came over and took our wine order and asked if "I was familiar with that wine." What is that supposed to mean? It sucks? We waited and waited for bread service, which every other table had; finally I asked and our waiter exclamed "Oh sorry about that!" Actually, no. He said, "uh yeah." Good thing we asked for it because the spreadable herb butter was the best part of the meal.
Tim and I ordered the same salad, the namesake salad that came in at an astounding $9 each. I thought the salad tasted fine but Tim said his had enough dressing only to cover about 20% of the leaves. He was eating dry salad. Dry nine dollar salad. For the entree, I ordered the beef tenderloin which was good but suffered from a sauce and vegetables that reminded me of many-a wedding reception dinner. Tim ordered a pork chop that at a glance looked medium rare. He said it was really not good at all. Tim had to nearly trip our waiter to get just one water refill. The whole experience was just weird.
400olive.com
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Saturday, March 19, 2011
She Said A-Trisket A-Brisket
Bogart's Smokehouse is St. Louis' newest BBQ joint in a city that is known for its BBQ but has no BBQ. It is a cleverly re-packaged "Pappy's II" with prime Real Estate across from the Soulard Farmer's Market. Today was a nice but not warm spring day, but we were pleasantly surprised to find parking (keep heading west on Lafayette about 1/2 block) amid the many market goers. This space is small and primed for carry-out; we arrived on time to eat indoors and enjoy the Blues City Deli-esque piped soundtrack. By the time we left the line was almost out the door, but staying true to Pappy's business plan, Bogart's is overstaffed with smiling t-shirt wearing employees, and today, two were handing out riblets to sample for patient patrons(right after we arrived).
Bogart's did a decent job of masking its connection to Pappy's, although the owner, Mike, who is instantly recognizable (although I had to look up his name) was leaving as we were arriving. He is also the face of Pappy's too, as I have seen him there on the floor once or twice. The offerings are standard BBQ joint fare, with the addition of the Sausage Fatty (??) and the subtraction of the Adam Bomb. Tim and I are die-hard brisket fans and both ordered a sandwich instead of the platter, which we split last time at Pappy's. Each sandwich came with two sides: I went with the baked beans, which were spicy and had burnt ends mixed in, and the potato chips, which a local business "Billy Goat Chips" provides. This is a great deal for the price ($7.50), considering the chips alone probably cost around 2 bucks if you purchased them at Schnuck's. Tim had the coleslaw in place of the baked beans, which he described as "nothing spectacular." It's unfortunate that the Broadway Oyster Bar has such awesome coleslaw because no other coleslaw can compare, according to my husband, although he continues to order it again and again and complain.
Bogart's is another good edition of non-healthy food to a overall non-healthy food neighborhood (see July 2010 blog on Soulard Gyro and Deli). Maybe next time we'll bike here to burn off some calories-or I will.
http://bogartssmokehouse.com/about/
Bogart's did a decent job of masking its connection to Pappy's, although the owner, Mike, who is instantly recognizable (although I had to look up his name) was leaving as we were arriving. He is also the face of Pappy's too, as I have seen him there on the floor once or twice. The offerings are standard BBQ joint fare, with the addition of the Sausage Fatty (??) and the subtraction of the Adam Bomb. Tim and I are die-hard brisket fans and both ordered a sandwich instead of the platter, which we split last time at Pappy's. Each sandwich came with two sides: I went with the baked beans, which were spicy and had burnt ends mixed in, and the potato chips, which a local business "Billy Goat Chips" provides. This is a great deal for the price ($7.50), considering the chips alone probably cost around 2 bucks if you purchased them at Schnuck's. Tim had the coleslaw in place of the baked beans, which he described as "nothing spectacular." It's unfortunate that the Broadway Oyster Bar has such awesome coleslaw because no other coleslaw can compare, according to my husband, although he continues to order it again and again and complain.
Bogart's is another good edition of non-healthy food to a overall non-healthy food neighborhood (see July 2010 blog on Soulard Gyro and Deli). Maybe next time we'll bike here to burn off some calories-or I will.
http://bogartssmokehouse.com/about/
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Pork-Extravaganza
Today's review is UG road edition, featuring The Vintage Restaurant at Stone Hill Winery. We were on a get-away for our first anniversary, with all major events (eating, sleeping) planned by Tim. Since I plan 90% of our food outings and Tim plans for Red Lobster, I wasn't sure what was in store. He assured me he "did his research" and since I had been to Stone Hill several times but had not patronized this winery restaurant, I was excited to check it out.
Tim booked The Vintage several weeks in advance, which turned out to be necessary, as on a Saturday night IN MARCH, there was a 90 minute wait. Sheesh. We arrived about 30 minutes early to have a free wine tasting to determine which wine to order without hesitation. It was a pleasant surprise to see a minimal (1$?) mark-up of the wine; even though all of the offerings are estate bottled, this is where most dining establishments keep their bottom line in the black. We opted for Hermannsberger, which can only be said we a pathetic German accent, which tastes something in the Pinot range. To start off the meal, the only option Tim saw was a variety of cured sausages, so that's what we had. All three were good, but the Knockwurst was especially outstanding. Tim had a 6 oz. filet that was good-but not the best he's had-and I had pork schnitzel with a sauce recommended by our waitress which was underseasoned and nothing to write home about. The schnitzel was good, however. My "traditional German dish" came with a salad and more "traditional German sides," of which I chose spatzle and potato pancakes. Full.
But of course, we couldn't pass up dessert. Tim had the cheesecake and I had carrot cake, both totally unnecessary after pigging out but might as well keep going in that respect.
The clientele did scream "Missoura" with Tim and I feeling slightly overdressed in a sweater and button down shirt. There was even a Chad Kroger doppelganger sighting.
http://www.stonehillwinery.com/locations/hermann/restaurant/dinnermenu.aspx
Tim booked The Vintage several weeks in advance, which turned out to be necessary, as on a Saturday night IN MARCH, there was a 90 minute wait. Sheesh. We arrived about 30 minutes early to have a free wine tasting to determine which wine to order without hesitation. It was a pleasant surprise to see a minimal (1$?) mark-up of the wine; even though all of the offerings are estate bottled, this is where most dining establishments keep their bottom line in the black. We opted for Hermannsberger, which can only be said we a pathetic German accent, which tastes something in the Pinot range. To start off the meal, the only option Tim saw was a variety of cured sausages, so that's what we had. All three were good, but the Knockwurst was especially outstanding. Tim had a 6 oz. filet that was good-but not the best he's had-and I had pork schnitzel with a sauce recommended by our waitress which was underseasoned and nothing to write home about. The schnitzel was good, however. My "traditional German dish" came with a salad and more "traditional German sides," of which I chose spatzle and potato pancakes. Full.
But of course, we couldn't pass up dessert. Tim had the cheesecake and I had carrot cake, both totally unnecessary after pigging out but might as well keep going in that respect.
The clientele did scream "Missoura" with Tim and I feeling slightly overdressed in a sweater and button down shirt. There was even a Chad Kroger doppelganger sighting.
http://www.stonehillwinery.com/locations/hermann/restaurant/dinnermenu.aspx
Saturday, February 19, 2011
A Trans-cendental Experience?
Fritanga is "St. Louis' only Nicaraguan restaurant" and we're lucky that it's a mere five minute drive from our house. It is located on south Jefferson in a stretch of boarded up businesses and an occasional storefront church. The owners took a gamble putting their business here, but everytime we drive by most of the tables are occupied, though the place is small. This was our second time at Fritanga, but it had been awhile, and they made a small remodel to include a separate bar area with bar height tables.
Nicaraguan cuisine is similar to Cuban or any other Central American country's, with emphasis on meat, plantains, and rice and beans. I went with chancho asada, grilled pork with sides of black beans and rice, sweet plantains, and coleslaw. Tim ordered carne asada, with the typical grilled skirt steak and above sides. I also wanted a side of mojo yuca, as yuca is such an interesting tuber and I have to order it whenever I see it on a menu. We were also give a sampler of three different sauce accompaniments: a cilantro/parsley, a vinagre, and pickled jalepenos. I stayed with the first two but Tim went ahead and dove into the jalepenos, which he may be paying for this AM.
We each ordered a mixed drink with tamarind juice. Tamarind is very sweet, almost sickeningly so, but I enjoyed my rum and tamarind and Tim seemed to like his margarita. Our waiter, (see "gay" below), thought my pronunciation was bueno.
Totally unrelated to the food experience, Fritanga is owned by one, two, or three gay men, each more flamboyant than the last. These are Nicaraguan gays, and if you've been any time around Latinos, being out and proud is not common. Putting their flamboyance to shame last night, however, was a 6 foot tall tranny WHO WOULDN'T HAVE FOOLED MY DAD! She made no attempt to hide her deep baritone when yelling across the bar and during her numerous trips to the "ladies" she walked like she had just had gotten off the old steed. Anyway, this is an inner-city hangout and diversity is expected. Food is good too.
http://www.fritangastl.net/
Nicaraguan cuisine is similar to Cuban or any other Central American country's, with emphasis on meat, plantains, and rice and beans. I went with chancho asada, grilled pork with sides of black beans and rice, sweet plantains, and coleslaw. Tim ordered carne asada, with the typical grilled skirt steak and above sides. I also wanted a side of mojo yuca, as yuca is such an interesting tuber and I have to order it whenever I see it on a menu. We were also give a sampler of three different sauce accompaniments: a cilantro/parsley, a vinagre, and pickled jalepenos. I stayed with the first two but Tim went ahead and dove into the jalepenos, which he may be paying for this AM.
We each ordered a mixed drink with tamarind juice. Tamarind is very sweet, almost sickeningly so, but I enjoyed my rum and tamarind and Tim seemed to like his margarita. Our waiter, (see "gay" below), thought my pronunciation was bueno.
Totally unrelated to the food experience, Fritanga is owned by one, two, or three gay men, each more flamboyant than the last. These are Nicaraguan gays, and if you've been any time around Latinos, being out and proud is not common. Putting their flamboyance to shame last night, however, was a 6 foot tall tranny WHO WOULDN'T HAVE FOOLED MY DAD! She made no attempt to hide her deep baritone when yelling across the bar and during her numerous trips to the "ladies" she walked like she had just had gotten off the old steed. Anyway, this is an inner-city hangout and diversity is expected. Food is good too.
http://www.fritangastl.net/
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Regal Eating
I decided I was in charge of Valentine's Day plans this year, even though Tim did an outstanding job last year. I went to OpenTable, which had a specially designed website for all of your VDay needs, including reservations, naturally. I chose Monarch in Maplewood after hearing positive reviews from coworkers.
Our last upscale dining experience was an utter disaster (see last post) so I had my fingers crossed and lowered my expectations. The latest time available was 5:45, so I was pleasantly surprised when the average age of the diners at this time wasn't much older than us. I was also glad I went with the skirt option and Tim, some chinos as everyone here was dressed to the nines, I'm guessing because of the holiday.
We started off with a charcuterie and cheese platter, which wasn't necessarily self-explanable on the menu. Apparently, the waitress thought the same thing and had to carry a cheat sheet to make sure she described everything correctly. Even though we had just had homemade Bleu Cheese burgers the night before, Tim was all over that option; I saw sheep's milk and thought, "Yes." For the meats, we had some sort of hard pork salami and a huge chunk of country pate, which had venison in it-good.
For the entrees, we both went fish: Tim the flounder and me the skate. Each fish came with some interesting side options. Mine had these pistachio and horseradish sunchokes-wow! and Tim had deep-fried chickpeas. By this time, Tim's hangover had taken over and I flew solo with my dessert: a dark chocolate souffle! Ok I'm stuffed now.
The wine list was very easy to navigate and had options at every pricepoint. The service is outstanding with a separate breadserver, handing out individual garlicky slices, as well as a water girl who kept her left hand behind her back at all times-fancy! The atmosphere is really cool with hundreds of paper-mache butterflies hanging from the ceiling. Finally we found a restaurant that deserves a repeat.
http://monarch.tophatandmonocle.net/
Our last upscale dining experience was an utter disaster (see last post) so I had my fingers crossed and lowered my expectations. The latest time available was 5:45, so I was pleasantly surprised when the average age of the diners at this time wasn't much older than us. I was also glad I went with the skirt option and Tim, some chinos as everyone here was dressed to the nines, I'm guessing because of the holiday.
We started off with a charcuterie and cheese platter, which wasn't necessarily self-explanable on the menu. Apparently, the waitress thought the same thing and had to carry a cheat sheet to make sure she described everything correctly. Even though we had just had homemade Bleu Cheese burgers the night before, Tim was all over that option; I saw sheep's milk and thought, "Yes." For the meats, we had some sort of hard pork salami and a huge chunk of country pate, which had venison in it-good.
For the entrees, we both went fish: Tim the flounder and me the skate. Each fish came with some interesting side options. Mine had these pistachio and horseradish sunchokes-wow! and Tim had deep-fried chickpeas. By this time, Tim's hangover had taken over and I flew solo with my dessert: a dark chocolate souffle! Ok I'm stuffed now.
The wine list was very easy to navigate and had options at every pricepoint. The service is outstanding with a separate breadserver, handing out individual garlicky slices, as well as a water girl who kept her left hand behind her back at all times-fancy! The atmosphere is really cool with hundreds of paper-mache butterflies hanging from the ceiling. Finally we found a restaurant that deserves a repeat.
http://monarch.tophatandmonocle.net/
Sunday, January 30, 2011
In France, We Call it Mal
Clayton, MO, like many municipalities, puts on a restaurant week in the dead of winter. I have no idea how I found out about it (possibly Sauce Magazine), but I can't resist a restaurant week, complete with a limited, and usually subpar, prix fixe menu.
The organizers had a nice website where they listed all of the restaurants along with the menus. I chose the restaurant with the most expensive regular menu, Chez Leon, since the price was already set (25/per). Chez Leon originally was in the Central West End, right across the street from my apartment on Laclede. As a grad student, going there was only a pipe dream. Time to make it reality.
We had reservations and were promptly seated when we arrived by the owner, who was doubling as the maitre d'. We were given the smallest table hugging the wall. The waiter could barely walk between the tables. My head was against a painting by "D. Byrne" (David??) and I was concerned with giving myself a concussion and/or ruining a Jackson Pollock-esque creation that was probably very expensive. Since the menu was prix fixe, we were able to order a starter, an entre and a dessert. No explanations of the mostly French-language menu were offerred so we just made some uneducated guesses: Le gâteau à la Jeanne d'Arc/ crème anglaise must be Joan of Arc's cat creamed English-style. I had to order that.
Our soup of lobster bisque was quite good, with a bit of spice at the end. We both ordered the beef tenderloin, reminiscent of many-a-wedding dinners. Meh. For dessert, my martyred cat actually came out as an espresso cake, which was good but not crazy. Tim had tarte tatin, and apple pie ala mode with a fancy name, and slightly better than my gateau.
The biggest problem we had was with the wine. We each started off with a cocktail, but I wanted to have some wine with my dinner so I asked for a wine menu, which strangly was never offered to us at a French restaurant. It was very modest, with only one page each of white and red. I ordered the Beaujoulais and waited. And waited. Our entrees came out with lightning speed (wedding dinner style) and still no wine. The waiter came back with a Pinot, which is not even close to Beaujoulais, but whatever-I'm almost done with my entree at this point. The wine was bad, and I even considered sending it back but was too scared. We came home and had a 3 Buck Chuck Beaujoulais Neauvou. Much better.
Guess what, we're never coming back
www.chezleon.com
The organizers had a nice website where they listed all of the restaurants along with the menus. I chose the restaurant with the most expensive regular menu, Chez Leon, since the price was already set (25/per). Chez Leon originally was in the Central West End, right across the street from my apartment on Laclede. As a grad student, going there was only a pipe dream. Time to make it reality.
We had reservations and were promptly seated when we arrived by the owner, who was doubling as the maitre d'. We were given the smallest table hugging the wall. The waiter could barely walk between the tables. My head was against a painting by "D. Byrne" (David??) and I was concerned with giving myself a concussion and/or ruining a Jackson Pollock-esque creation that was probably very expensive. Since the menu was prix fixe, we were able to order a starter, an entre and a dessert. No explanations of the mostly French-language menu were offerred so we just made some uneducated guesses: Le gâteau à la Jeanne d'Arc/ crème anglaise must be Joan of Arc's cat creamed English-style. I had to order that.
Our soup of lobster bisque was quite good, with a bit of spice at the end. We both ordered the beef tenderloin, reminiscent of many-a-wedding dinners. Meh. For dessert, my martyred cat actually came out as an espresso cake, which was good but not crazy. Tim had tarte tatin, and apple pie ala mode with a fancy name, and slightly better than my gateau.
The biggest problem we had was with the wine. We each started off with a cocktail, but I wanted to have some wine with my dinner so I asked for a wine menu, which strangly was never offered to us at a French restaurant. It was very modest, with only one page each of white and red. I ordered the Beaujoulais and waited. And waited. Our entrees came out with lightning speed (wedding dinner style) and still no wine. The waiter came back with a Pinot, which is not even close to Beaujoulais, but whatever-I'm almost done with my entree at this point. The wine was bad, and I even considered sending it back but was too scared. We came home and had a 3 Buck Chuck Beaujoulais Neauvou. Much better.
Guess what, we're never coming back
www.chezleon.com
Saturday, January 15, 2011
"I Already Know the Title of This Blog"
So says my husband this morning, waiting with bated breath for my [hopefully] scathing review of Al Waha. His suggestion is "We're Never Coming Here Ever Again. Ever." or something like that because that is precicely how Tim described this Afghani restaurant.
Having a Groupon that was set to expire in two weeks, I knew that this was probably our only option for dinner on a Friday night. We rarely eat ethnic food, unless you count Italian ethnic, mostly because Tim simply doesn't crave it the way I do. This is probably the case in many households where the woman will eat goofy shit and the man wants "steak." Anyway, Tim was happy to go to Al Waha because of the Groupon, and upon entering, I realized I had been inside this restaurant space before, under a different name.
The room was super warm-like 80 degree warm-fine by me. Service was quick too. The food, however, left a little to be desired. We started off with an appetizer of Sambosa which is Samosa with a "b" They were tasty and spiced right, but nothing extraordinary. We also ordered the Lebnah which was described as: thick, dehydrated yogurt mixed with mint, parsely, red pepper and olive oil. What I got was yogurt, which seemed fully hydrated and crushed red pepper flakes and olive oil. Nothing green and nothing like what I assumed to be roasted red pepper. Ok, moving on.
For the entree, I decided on the Al Waha plate; must be something traditional. I thought it was good, not great-it had ground beef mixed with some dried fruit and a pomegranate (spelled wrong) and tomato sauce. Tim loves a good chicken schwarma, so I talked him into ordering that instead of the beef kabob. Oops. It was salty chicken essentially with little spice or flavor. He left about half on the plate, which is uncustomary for my husband.
I also wanted to try a traditional drink, so I went with the Irfa Beljoze. At $3.50 I thought this must be something good. I ordered it with the appetizer and it came at the end of my meal, so hot I couldn't even pick it up. After about 10 minutes it was cool enough; tasted like cinnamony tea, which was fine except I don't like tea. I tried.
So, we won't be back. The restaurant tries to explain the culture of the dishes but unfortunately, the dishes fall short.
http://alwahastl.com/
Having a Groupon that was set to expire in two weeks, I knew that this was probably our only option for dinner on a Friday night. We rarely eat ethnic food, unless you count Italian ethnic, mostly because Tim simply doesn't crave it the way I do. This is probably the case in many households where the woman will eat goofy shit and the man wants "steak." Anyway, Tim was happy to go to Al Waha because of the Groupon, and upon entering, I realized I had been inside this restaurant space before, under a different name.
The room was super warm-like 80 degree warm-fine by me. Service was quick too. The food, however, left a little to be desired. We started off with an appetizer of Sambosa which is Samosa with a "b" They were tasty and spiced right, but nothing extraordinary. We also ordered the Lebnah which was described as: thick, dehydrated yogurt mixed with mint, parsely, red pepper and olive oil. What I got was yogurt, which seemed fully hydrated and crushed red pepper flakes and olive oil. Nothing green and nothing like what I assumed to be roasted red pepper. Ok, moving on.
For the entree, I decided on the Al Waha plate; must be something traditional. I thought it was good, not great-it had ground beef mixed with some dried fruit and a pomegranate (spelled wrong) and tomato sauce. Tim loves a good chicken schwarma, so I talked him into ordering that instead of the beef kabob. Oops. It was salty chicken essentially with little spice or flavor. He left about half on the plate, which is uncustomary for my husband.
I also wanted to try a traditional drink, so I went with the Irfa Beljoze. At $3.50 I thought this must be something good. I ordered it with the appetizer and it came at the end of my meal, so hot I couldn't even pick it up. After about 10 minutes it was cool enough; tasted like cinnamony tea, which was fine except I don't like tea. I tried.
So, we won't be back. The restaurant tries to explain the culture of the dishes but unfortunately, the dishes fall short.
http://alwahastl.com/
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Forcing the Husband to Do Something He Doesn't Want To, Suprise, Surprise
My boss raves and raves about the Ninth Street Deli's meatball sandwich. Tim rants and rants about the God-forsaken truffle oil the Ninth Street Deli puts on "every single thing they sell." This corner deli was only 1 1/2 BLOCKS from Tim's old apartment and we went there exactly zero times before we moved from Soulard. "I'm not going there, it just sucks." After several years of doing business in Soulard, it closed. "Good, stop bugging me about going there."
Setting out for Blues City Deli for a pastrami or perhaps the special, I was bummed as we pulled up and there were no cars parked outside. Oddly closed on a Saturday. "Where do you want to go?" I had heard that NSD was back open again (from aforementioned boss) and meekly suggested it. "Ok, but if it sucks we are NEVER EVER going again." Well I had NEVER EVER been there before so what did I have to lose?
Without looking at the menu, which is placed overhead ala Panera, I said MEATBALL, PLEASE. Tim hemmed and hawed at such outrageous sandwiches as ROAST BEEF AND CHEESE and TUNA SALAD. No truffle oil in site. Tim settled on the ST LOUISIAN, a standard name for a sandwich in ST LOUIS but not standard in ingredients. His included the standard Italian sub collection of cured porkmeats and some vinegar dressing that was ok but a tad sweet for me. The MEATBALL was gooooood; not slathered in sauce, but just the right amount along with Mozzarella NO PROVEL. Ok, I just checked on the menu, it was provel. I am now officially a St. Louisan because I can't tell a difference.
Tim did admit, "Well that was ok I guess. Not too much truffle oil on the menu there [or none]." We both observed that we were the oldest people in the place-it was half full-and this was one of the reasons Tim left Soulard.
The NSD is no BCD but a good alternative especially in the winter with its ample indoor seating and generous thermostat.
http://www.ninthstreetdeli.net/
Setting out for Blues City Deli for a pastrami or perhaps the special, I was bummed as we pulled up and there were no cars parked outside. Oddly closed on a Saturday. "Where do you want to go?" I had heard that NSD was back open again (from aforementioned boss) and meekly suggested it. "Ok, but if it sucks we are NEVER EVER going again." Well I had NEVER EVER been there before so what did I have to lose?
Without looking at the menu, which is placed overhead ala Panera, I said MEATBALL, PLEASE. Tim hemmed and hawed at such outrageous sandwiches as ROAST BEEF AND CHEESE and TUNA SALAD. No truffle oil in site. Tim settled on the ST LOUISIAN, a standard name for a sandwich in ST LOUIS but not standard in ingredients. His included the standard Italian sub collection of cured porkmeats and some vinegar dressing that was ok but a tad sweet for me. The MEATBALL was gooooood; not slathered in sauce, but just the right amount along with Mozzarella NO PROVEL. Ok, I just checked on the menu, it was provel. I am now officially a St. Louisan because I can't tell a difference.
Tim did admit, "Well that was ok I guess. Not too much truffle oil on the menu there [or none]." We both observed that we were the oldest people in the place-it was half full-and this was one of the reasons Tim left Soulard.
The NSD is no BCD but a good alternative especially in the winter with its ample indoor seating and generous thermostat.
http://www.ninthstreetdeli.net/
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