343 North Creek Drive
Festus, Mo.
Sometime during the week I’d decided that this would be a
great idea. We hadn’t been there in a while and we all like it. Without dissent
we headed out Saturday evening. The day had been dark and dreary, December
showing its true nature. Birthdays and holidays encroaching too quickly, associated
stresses were building. I’d slept in and was late to my writers club Christmas
party and arrived in an inexplicable and unforgivable asocial mood. Not harsh and rude or anti-social,
just a-social, quiet and sulky. I get these moods once in a while and usually
just have to wait them out.
I busied myself later by making my weekly run to Wal-Mart
and engaging in a couple of other banal chores.
By Saturday evening the mood had subsided and I was coasting
along in neutral. I looked forward to a pleasant meal at a nice place.
The Place:
The parking lot was pretty full but there were several good
tables still available. I was pleased to see that Taytro’s hadn’t gone nuts
decorating for the over-hyped holiday season. A single string of small lights entwined
with a grapevine above the bar, I wasn’t even certain that it was holiday related.
We were led to a table in the front corner, a table that was
too close to the occupied one next to it. We asked and were allowed to pull the
table away. We sat and were told that Heather would be serving us.
The
place, even near the window, was dimly lit, which is usually a good thing. Then
we were handed the menus. There was a problem. The menus were black and
lettered with small white type. Very classy, but nearly impossible for two
middle-aged, bifocal-prescribed patrons. Angel and I struggled to read the
thing. Adam helped translate, though his inherited eyesight wasn’t a lot
better.
The
offerings had changed a little since we were last there, maybe, some things
seemed to be missing, though we could not recall exactly what.
There
were specials being added to the chalkboard as we arrived. Fish and Chips and
Chicken Picatta stir fry.
Taytro’s
makes po’ boys, a great, simple sandwich. The
more I thought about it though, the more the fish and chips sounded pretty good.
The
Food:
Angel’s choice was hardly surprising.
Crawfish Etouffee. Adam chose the Buffalo Chicken Po’boy with chips, I ordered
the fish and chips with fries instead of chips which is what fish and chips
actually means. In Great Britain,
which is somewhere between England
and the United Kingdom,
‘fish and chips’ is peasant food, street food, meant to be eaten on the
go, like a hoot dog. This is an important characteristic
of the offering that I will get back to later.
Anyway the first fish and chip shop opened in London
in 1860. This fact surprised me since I thought Long John Silver's had invented fish and chips sometime in the 1970’s, that's where I first heard of it anyhow.
For some stupid reason, the British call French fries ‘chips’. This is not really surprising however since the British are quite happy to butcher the language for no good reason. What we, God-fearing, freedom loving Americans call ‘chips’ are stubbornly referred to as crisps’ in the UK, even though the word ‘crisps’ sounds silly and is quite cumbersome to pronounce. An ‘s’ followed by a hard ‘p’ and then another ‘s’. It’s just much more oral calisthenics that is necessary. Go ahead, say the word. It’s a lot of work.
For some stupid reason, the British call French fries ‘chips’. This is not really surprising however since the British are quite happy to butcher the language for no good reason. What we, God-fearing, freedom loving Americans call ‘chips’ are stubbornly referred to as crisps’ in the UK, even though the word ‘crisps’ sounds silly and is quite cumbersome to pronounce. An ‘s’ followed by a hard ‘p’ and then another ‘s’. It’s just much more oral calisthenics that is necessary. Go ahead, say the word. It’s a lot of work.
Angel
got a salad with her meal, I did not. Too bad, Taytro’s salads are quite tasty,
the house poppy seed dressing is rather sweet, though the salad is not drowned
by it.
They
also decided on fried ravioli, that St. Louis
area staple, as an appetizer. I like it okay, but I’m not nuts for it. I had
three.
To
make them you take or make meaty, cheesy ravioli and boil it like you normally
would. Then you let it dry a little, bread and deep fry. Why deep fry? Because, like I said, this is America! They turn
out as crispy finger food. Traditionally they are served with a marinara sauce
for dipping.
Buffalo Chicken Po' Boy |
Our
drinks arrived before the appetizers and salads, as they should. Tea for me,
Diet Coke for the lady, and root beer for the boy. The tea was actually quite
good, a rare occurrence in the area.
Overhead
the flat screens played sports, real sports, women’s volleyball. This was a
college match and was taking place on a hard surface indoors. That of course
takes a little something away from the purest form of the game, namely the
skimpy bikinis that are worn by the beach-version contenders. It was still far
better than football, baseball, basketball or that bewilderingly popular non-sport NASCAR.
The
appetizers and salad came and went quickly. Quite good.
The
place continued to fill at a regular pace. It was good to see a locally owned
and operated joint doing so well.
The
plates finally arrived. Angel’s etouffee was just as expected. Two bright red
crawdads sitting atop a brown, saucy stew and two dollops of rice. Adam’s
sandwich and chips looked good, he’d ordered his without onion and they
complied.
Crawfish Etouffee |
My fish and chips looked. . . off… somehow.
Small chunks of cod lightly breaded, fried and mixed among a plateful of
fries, a small metal ramekin of sauce on the side.
I’m
used to fish, when served as fish and chips, to be thin filets, heavy-battered,
fried crisp with the thick fried batter holding the flaky fish together, like at Long
John Silver’s and every other place I’ve ever had fish and chips.
Then
things started falling apart, literally. I picked up the first chunk of fish
and the breading slipped right off, like knickers off a trollop . The cod flaked off and fell into the
dipping sauce. I ended up using a fork to get it all out. The rest of the
nuggets proved to be just as much a struggle.
Fish and Chips |
The
taste of the fish itself was bland. Not bad, in fact the amount of cooking was
perfect, the fish moist and flaky but it had no flavor and the light breading
offered up. . .nothing. The dipping sauce was wrong, all wrong. It was not
tartar sauce, it was something else. Not sweet, sort of savory and maybe made
with chipotle. The taste of the sauce,
the texture and frail mechanics of the fish made for a disappointing meal for
me.
Angel and Adam though were quite pleased. Angel disassembled the crawdads and slurped down the luscious meaty bits. “Good as always.” She sighed. Adam’s only remark was about the amount of bread on his sandwich: “Too bread-y.”
Angel and Adam though were quite pleased. Angel disassembled the crawdads and slurped down the luscious meaty bits. “Good as always.” She sighed. Adam’s only remark was about the amount of bread on his sandwich: “Too bread-y.”
Summary:
We
really like this place. Most everything they serve is excellent. The service is
great, the atmosphere is cozy and friendly, and Taytro’s offers dishes that no
one else around does. The bill came to a reasonable $46.59.
My gripes about the fish and chips are serious, but not bad enough to keep me from going back. They offer many things I like quite well, I just thought I’d mix it up on this visit. I cannot recommend the fish and chips, it simply doesn’t work as served. Perhaps a more traditional approach would be better, and there’s really nothing wrong with plain tartar sauce.
My gripes about the fish and chips are serious, but not bad enough to keep me from going back. They offer many things I like quite well, I just thought I’d mix it up on this visit. I cannot recommend the fish and chips, it simply doesn’t work as served. Perhaps a more traditional approach would be better, and there’s really nothing wrong with plain tartar sauce.
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