Texas Taters n’ More

144 7th Street
Hillsboro, MO.

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On Wednesday night I attended  my first meeting of  the Campaign Committee for the Hillsboro District Branch of the Jefferson County Library.  I became interested in this effort as a result of a newspaper article in the Leader, the Jefferson County weekly paper that said that the committee had successfully petitioned the County Council to include the initiative on the November ballot.

Okay, enough of the soapbox, (see more about it below) but it is actually integral to this review.

At the meeting, I was quaintly and grass-root-ly putting stickers on piles of pamphlets. The lady next to me, also there for the first time, started chatting with me. Normally I am averse to this sort of social interaction, but she seemed relatively harmless, and I knew I could get up and walk away at any time.

Renee, as I came to know her, while also sticking stickers on piles of pamphlets, told me a little about herself and more later in the formal introductions and mentioned she was going to start book readings for kids at this new Hillsboro restaurant, Texas Taters N’ More. She was offering to accept donations and contribute them to the Library committee.

I was fascinated, beside myself with glee. There was a new restaurant in Hillsboro that I was not aware of. So the hook was in. I knew from that instant that it would be the target of my next review.

The Place:

The place used to be Rich’s Frozen Custard, a joint I reviewed a year or so back. Restaurants are fickle businesses; it’s unfortunate, but not at all unusual to have one open for only a year or so, or less.

The building sports an auto parts store underneath. It’s a bit off the road and the new, modest signage is a little hard to see from Main Street.

Entering the doors I was instantly reminded of my Rich’s experience. A wide room, perhaps fifty feet or more square, and a high open ceiling. The walls were now painted blue which worked well with the bright, white, polished tile floors. On the walls were signs and kitschy objet d’ Texas.

There were several sparsely located tables and booths, the booth tables had been topped with buckaroo and ten gallon hat printed laminated coverings. The cavernous interior echoed, which I had remarked on back in Rich’s time, and can’t quite ignore now. It cuts down on any possibility of intimacy or private conversation, but if you like big, open, family style atmosphere this is just fine. Short of dropping a ceiling and installing partitions and such, I don’t see another remedy for this. This was once a hardware store if I recall correctly.

But that is of only minor concern compared to the service, the food and the overall quality of the experience.

The Food:

The menu on the wall made it clear, if the name of the place didn’t already give it away. They serve baked potatoes. I knew this ahead of time though since I tend to spend tens of minutes, more or less, usually much less, painstakingly researching every place we plan to review.

Adam and I scanned the menu, both pre-planned 'chuckwagon combos' as well as a ‘build your own’ list of toppings. A hand printed fluorescent marker board indicated that the special was  the chicken-fried steak and gravy potato.

I knew that if Angel were with us that this would be her choice.

Did I mention that Angel wasn’t there?

Buckaroo tablecloth

She’d abandoned us on Friday, something about a granddaughter’s birthday party in Springfield or something trivial like that. She was due back Saturday evening, or so she had said. I’m never quite convinced  that when she leaves us all alone like that if she will actually ever return, so I treat every one of her road trips like it’s permanent. I’m sure that’s just the way she’d want it.

So Adam and I, lonely and abandoned, stared almost helplessly at the menu. No guidance or suggestions from Angel, who is usually good for just that sort of thing, if nothing else. But she was gone now, perhaps never to return.

I saw one combo listed that stood out as a potato as I’d make for myself, the 'All American'. Cheddar cheese, sour cream, chives and bacon. Adam succumbed to the temptation of the chicken fried steak and gravy. One of the two attending ladies, the owners as it turned out, greeted us. “The potatoes are over a pound each before we even start, I hope you brought an appetite.”

All American

It made sense, this was a Texas themed joint, and Texas claims to do everything bigger, it’s a Freudian compensation thing I’m pretty sure, so naturally the potatoes would be ridiculously large. I took this into mathematical consideration. When you see a burger billed as a quarter pound or half pound burger, that is pre-cooked weight. As burgers and steaks are cooked the rendering off of the 20% or so of fat content drops that weight a dramatic amount. Not so with a fat-free potato, the post-cooked weight is pretty close to the pre-cooked weight. In other words, a one pound potato, with added toppings is pretty close if not more than a pound of food.

We ordered, adding a take-out potato for Angel, should she defy the odds and expectations and actually return home. Our drinks, tea for me, Coke for Adam and  a Diet Coke for Angel’s, or whomever’s, takeout. The lady attendant, the co-potato-chef, mentioned that the place would also deliver lunch orders.

CF Steak and gravy

Adam and I wandered around the place, we were at  the time the only customers. It was early though, around five p.m. and also this was a brand new place having opened only a week before. Word of mouth had not quite kicked in yet. PLUS the Jefferson County fair was in full swing and the temptations of funnel cake and bizarre and mysterious fried things on a stick probably were sucking away some potential patronage.

We situated ourselves in a booth/table in the middle. It was only a few minutes before the food arrived. Red plastic baskets lined with bright blue and white gingham paper held the massive spuds. The presentation was excellent. Bright crisp green chives, scoops of bright white sour cream and thick brown crispy chunks of bacon, and a generous handful of shredded cheddar. Adam’s gravy-coated tuber held golden chunks of breaded steak popping through. The plating/presentation was above and beyond what I expected.

The drinks were served in Styrofoam cups, the plastic tableware was a little feeble, but adequate. I’m not a big fan of plastic or Styrofoam, but as this is a local startup, I have to give them a little slack. It’s not like I would be dismantling a sirloin.

Adam and I chopped and stirred around the massive tater, mixing the toppings generously. The first bites, as well as the last were warm and greatly satisfying.

Potatoes are not a very fussy food. It’s pretty basic. Cook it right and it’s a hit. The toppings, chosen to personal preference, only need to be fresh and generous. TTn'M got it all right, the texture of the taters was spot on, not dried out, not starchy or under-cooked.

Neither Adam or I were able to finish completely.

“I’m full, but not in a bad way.” He told me. The look on his face told me he'd really enjoyed it. 

I knew what he meant. Calorically speaking a loaded potato might not be any less deadly than a burger, but without the animal fat and the frying oils a baked potato simply doesn’t feel as greasy and sinful as a burger and fries. I too was full, in a good way.

Summary:

The price was equivalent to a burger joint, three meals and drinks for twenty two dollars and change. The preparation was spot-on, these ladies know how to cook a big spud. The toppings seemed fresh and crisp, the service was beyond personable, and the wait time was minimal. This is a fresh new start-up in our little town, so it needs support to help it thrive. I encourage all those in the area, including folks that might only be passing through on the way back to St. Louis from Old Mines** looking for new places to check out, to give this new place a shot. They do a good job and provide a refreshing  alternative to the greasy fast food joints in town. Angel was surprisingly home by the time we got there, much earlier than the 'never' that I'd expected. She'd done it right though, stopping at the Canton Inn in Springfield on the way back. I expect that by the time you read this I will have packed on a couple or twelve extra pounds.

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* Hillsboro is the seat of the sixth most populous county in Missouri. The residents of Hillsboro do not have free access to any library in the county, nor is there a library branch in the town. I’ve always thought this was odd, at best, and absurd, to be perfectly honest. So I decided to help out as much as able to get this silly situation rectified. Certainly Hillsboro is not a huge metropolis, but the people there surely deserve the same access to a library as every other place I’ve ever lived in my life.  Though it involves a property tax increase, a very modest one, a public library is among the basic services, like a school, a post office, sidewalks and water treatment plants that every small town usually demands. Even the right-wing utopian model of rural America, Mayberry, had a tax-funded public library.

** Passing through.  This is a cheap, gratuitous reach-out to Alanna Kellogg, the lady behind the St. Louis Food Blog group, a network for those of us who write blogs about food and eating establishments in the St. Louis area. Alanna recently recognized my brilliance and dazzling contributions to the St. Louis gastronomic community and accepted this little blog into the group. There’s a link at the upper right hand corner of this page.

Trattoria Giuseppe

5442 Old Hwy 21
Imperial MO
http://www.trattoria-giuseppe.com/
Jan16 2009 5:00 PM
The Place:
We made our reservation a day ahead. We printed out a Google map with directions; Angel’s Tom-Tom couldn’t locate it. According to its proper mailing address this place is in Imperial, though actually it’s in or very near Otto, five miles west of downtown Imperial. Most easily it can be described as near the intersection of Highway M and old Route 21 in Jefferson County.
We almost passed it as it is not a free-standing establishment. It shares strip-mall walls, parking and signage with a tavern, a pizza shop and a body shop supply store.

I was at first baffled. Being as we needed reservations I assumed a bit of high-falutin airs and snootiness, I’d even put on a button down shirt and tucked it into my jeans. Now here we were in a parking lot across the street from a towing service, miles form anything resembling a town.
We entered and found ourselves in a brightly painted green and red entryway. We were greeted and taken directly to our table in the less flashy dining area. There, subdued vertical striped wallpaper, stained wood chair rails and subtle prints of Italian themes adorned the walls. One the prints I didn’t care for and I have never liked. It’s a small poster/ad for the opera ‘Pagliacci’ I believe, depicting a really sad, singing circus clown. I’ve seen the print before and it always depresses me since: A. I don’t like opera, B. I don’t really like clowns, and C. The idea of a sad clown singing opera reminds me of abject depression and possibly insanity and that’s just a little too close to home.
Along one wall was a large mural of a mountainous coastline. I assume it is Italy or Sicily though since I’ve never been there I can’t be sure. It was a nice mural though.
The tables were quaint and covered with a deep green vinyl cloth. The carpet was well worn and a mix of colors that made it virtually unnoticeable. The dining area could hold around fifty people at the most.
Our server, Heather, introduced herself. She, like the ten or fifteen other visible employees was smartly dressed in black slacks, white shirt and black necktie. She took our drink orders, tea, tea, Coke and returned promptly. The tea was crisp and fresh. We were off to a good start.

The Food:
I ordered the Cannelloni, Angel the ‘Tutto Mare’ and Adam the ‘Chicken Muddiga’.
Each came with a house salad. I didn’t think much about it at the time because I’ve become accustomed to house salads and had limited expectations.
The salads were delivered, lettuce topped with a vinaigrette with a nice sweetness unlike I’d ever had. Also included were a couple of rich olives, not the kind you get in a can, these were dark and full of flavor. There was also a pepper of some sort, a grape tomato and a chunk of artichoke.
I’ve never liked artichoke, so I’ve never actually tried it. I find it pointless to try something I know I won’t like and artichoke is just too strange. It’s been showing up on the Food Network a lot though and I recalled how much work it actually takes to dig out and prepare the sparse edible bits. It reminded me of a crab shack experience in Maryland where they gave us a big bucket of blue crabs, a hammer, some pliers and a ream of napkins and bibs. An eight ounce crab actually only yields about .001 ounces of edible meat. It, like artichoke is a whole lot of work for a tiny morsel. I decided (with Angel glaring at me) to try it. The vinaigrette was so spectacular I figured whatever it touched would have at least that going for it. I have to say I was surprised, it wasn’t disgusting. It wasn’t all that great either. It had the consistency and texture of well prepared calamari, which I don’t care for either. It had no strong distinct taste of its own that I could discern. I seriously can’t figure out what the fuss is about.
The olives were outstanding; Angel and I took Adam’s.
The bread was perfect; crunchy crust and light, moist innards. I dipped mine in light olive oil and pepper and later on the marinara sauce. We cleaned out one basket full and asked for more. By the end of the meal we had a few slices left over which we boxed and took with us. The next morning I turned it into some of the best French toast I’ve ever made.
There was a wait for the main course. If this had been a fast-food place or a chain restaurant I would have been annoyed, but here, where I could tell the food was made to order rather than in batches, it was not bad at all. (See ‘Ambiance’ below).
All the tables were filled with casual couples and families and the ample wait staff scurried around with orders, baskets of bread and drink refills. My tea glass never dropped below half full the entire evening. We watched orders being delivered and realized that we were in a real live, fine dining establishment. Everything looked good, smelled good and felt good.
The main courses arrived. My cannelloni came, two inch-round tubes of pasta injected with a seasoned Italian beef puree covered in cheese and a unique and bright marinara. There was nothing about it to dislike. The pasta was done to perfection. (I appreciate how hard it is to get large pasta consistently done from one end to the other.) The beef filling was subtle, yet savory, the sauce and cheese so delightful I wanted to strip to my knickers and go swimming in it.
Angel’s Tutto Mare contained no horse meat as I had assumed it would. It turns out that ‘Tutto Mare’ translates to ‘All Sea’. It was a bed of linguini covered with shrimp, mussels, clams, mushrooms, tomatoes and covered with a cream sauce. The smell was luscious though I didn’t actually try it because it contained mussels and clams. Angel picked all the sea-bits out occasionally sucking down a heavy noodle or two. There were no sea creatures left by the end of the meal, but there was a fair pile of pasta left, we took that home as well.
Adam’s Chicken Muddiga was more than he had imagined. The chicken was prepared well enough, Mudigga style (breaded) and covered with the promised prosciutto bits (a sort of thin ham resembling bacon) and melted cheese. What he did not expect were the mushrooms. That pretty much took away his appetite for it. He did some scrapping and examined every subsequent morsel for errant mushroom debris. I tasted it and can say with some authority that there were a few too many mushrooms for my taste as well. Other than that it was pretty and otherwise quite tasty.
We were more than quite satisfied with the meal, that is until Heather brought the dessert tray around. We looked at each other and succumbed to temptation. Cheesecake is terribly hard to resist.

The Ambiance:
Then an odd thing happened; a young man in a nice suit walked in with a music stand. He sat it on the floor at the entrance to the dining room and unveiled a violin and bow. He then tucked the instrument under his chin and made music with it. He played softly and pleasantly, the tune we barely made out was not a classical piece, nor was it Italian as we expected it would be when he started. We finally figured out what it was and we had to laugh. He was playing Phil Collins’ “Against All Odds”. Okay, interesting choice, but still quite pleasing.
By this time we had become accustomed to the pleasantly unexpected.
Somewhere between the salad and the main course a man stepped out of the kitchen and went from table to table. When he came to ours he introduced himself as Giuseppe, the owner and chef. A very pleasant, modest, yet confident man, he smiled easily and seemed to enjoy the conversations as much as the patrons did. When I asked him about the sweetness in the salad dressing he simply smiled broadly and answered, in a distinct accent, “That is my recipe. I get it from my mother.” I didn’t drill him on it any further. He seemed genuinely delighted that I liked it and that was enough for me.
As we finished desert, our bellies full to the point of aching, we did not want to leave. This has rarely if ever happened in a restaurant. Usually we’re not lingerers at all. Eat, get the check and go, that’s us. But we were really, really enjoying this place unlike any other we have ever, ever, and I mean this, ever been. The warmth, the friendliness, the hum of a house full of satisfied diners, magnificent food, a personal greeting by the proprietor / chef, and his wife, and did I mention a guy playing soft pop on a freaking violin!

Summary:
Simply unbelievable. This is the full package. In an unexpected place, in a light industrial area five miles from the closest town or interstate on-ramp, nowhere near a Walmart, bank, or big box store. Not even a convenience store or gas station in sight. There stands in an inconspicuous strip mall on a road used pretty much only by the locals, the single best all around dining experience I can imagine. The price? Sixty five dollars plus tip.
That is sixty five dollars including dessert. Frequent readers and fans of this site will recall that we spent that much at Ruby Tuesday’s last week, without dessert, without meeting the chef, without having such exceptional food and service and without a guy playing 80’s hits on a real live violin. There’s a long list of places that you can spend sixty five dollars for three adults, but no place I know where you get this much pleasure for anywhere near that amount.
We will go back, definitely, we are already recommending it to everyone that will listen.


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About Imperial, MO.
“Imperial, MO, contains one of the most important archaeological sites in Missouri - the site where archaeologists first discovered a stone weapon with the bones of American mastodons. This was the first solid evidence of the coexistence of humans and mastodons in eastern North America.”
( www.slfp.com/Mastodon.htm )