Poppy’s Ristorante

2004 N Truman Blvd

Crystal City, MO

http://www.poppysristorante.com/

Had the weather reports earlier in the week predicted correctly, we would have been covered by nearly a foot of snow, what we had instead though was a dreary, cold rain. We need the rain, the Mighty Mississippi is low, threatening to halt barge traffic. I doubt that the heavy, prolonged showers we got on Saturday will solve the problem, but at least it would slow it down. Two days in the fifties and sixties followed by an all day rain, I wasn’t too worried about having to shovel out this weekend.

So we headed out in the cold drizzle, to Crystal City, North of the town’s center on Truman Boulevard also known as Highway 61/67.

The Place:

Adjoined to the Quonset Lanes, a bowling alley, Poppy’s is a nice place. The interior is lined and furnished with ornate heavy wood, almost church-like, very stylish. Not at all the industrial, mass-produced furnishings found at strip mall diners and cafes.

We stepped through the puddles, relieved to see the ‘Immediate Seating’ neon sign lit up. Sure enough there were several empty tables and we were led to one immediately, as promised.

We were handed menus and asked about drinks. I went out on a limb and asked for tea, Angel inquired about and ordered a Diet Dr. Pepper, and Adam a Pepsi. A few moments later Angel was informed that they were out of DDr. P, so she switched it to the full octane Dr. P.

Overhead, Sirius XM ‘The Blend’ was playing some good tunes.

The Food:

They brought the drinks and rolls, big rolls, fantastic rolls. Light, crunchy on the outside, fluffy on the inside and warm enough to melt the butter. The tea was fresh, bright and tasty.

The menu was simple and well laid out. It didn’t take very long for us to be ready to order. I’d had the cannelloni a couple of times already and was determined to have something else this time. The waitress had told us about a couple of specials, one in particular sounded pretty good. The penne pasta special  included green onions, chicken and bacon in a white sauce. I added the Greek salad.

Angel went for the Pasta Con Pesce again, a seafood and linguine plate she’d had before, and of course she added the Greek salad as well.

Adam jumped at a new (to us) item on the menu, Buffalo Chicken Penne. He added the soup instead of a salad.

Penne Special

I stole Angel’s Angry Bird Machine, her smart phone, and played a couple of rounds. I’d started playing this silly game over the holidays, a little here and there, refusing to become addicted to it. I’m not a ‘game’ person, but something about the simple concept and the ability to try a level again and again and again without penalty had hooked me for the time being. As with all other games I’ve ever played though I will surely grow bored with it pretty soon.

Pasta Con Pesce

The salads and soup arrived in good time. The salad was piled high and very pretty. There’s a problem with Poppy’s salad though, the plate is too small. To cut the pepper and onion slices means that lettuce will fall off onto the table, not a lot of working room. There’s nothing at all wrong with the freshness or the taste though, nothing at all.  There were plenty of olives as well, not those tight polished orbs you get out of a cheap jar, these were irregular, rough, and had a much deeper flavor.

Buffalo Chicken Penne

The salads and soup disappeared and shortly the main courses arrived. Heaping, steaming pastas. A LOT of pasta. My penne was creamy and smoky, with chunks of chicken and green onions and lots of bacon bits. The creamy sauce was rich and  savory, buttery. My pasta bowl was not quite as large as the other two, but I knew there was still much more than I could deal with in one sitting.

Angel never ran out of shrimp chunks. She too had to admit to defeat though, there was enough pasta on our three plates to feed Europe.

Adam picked through his, I could tell something was wrong. I finally pried it out of him. “I’m not a big  Ranch Dressing guy.” 

He likes hot wings and said that sure enough the hot-wing taste was consistent and the spiciness was not overpowering. They had laid on as a sauce, a big dollop of ranch. Though the tastes were all as-advertised it was simply a better plan on paper than in execution.

We asked for two boxes, Adam wasn’t taking his leftovers home.

Summary:

A few minor points, but otherwise Poppy’s is a place we like quite well.

While we were dining, three or four uniformed staff members gathered at a table near the door.  This is usually a big no-no in higher end places. One reason is that, sure enough, the ladies eventually started talking about work and some of the customers, dirty laundry being aired in front of paying guests. They weren’t too loud really, but if I were the owner I don’t think I’d like them talking shop in the dining area like that. It’s just not good form.

The biggest complaint we had though was the portions. This is a silly thing to consider a problem, but it is something Poppy’s may want to take a look at. There’s no fixed formula, but if the majority of your guests are boxing up half or more of their meal, you might reconsider portion size.

Pasta is heavy, the sauces are rich and creamy. Milk-based sauces don’t digest/break down quickly. For that reason that it’s far easier to quickly drink a gallon of water or even beer than it is to drink a gallon of milk. In fact, it is nearly impossible. Ergo, milk/cream and cheesy sauces are much, much more ‘filling’ than tomato based sauces.
There’s simply no profit in sending half meals out the door, even though the price is not really bad.

Our meal cost us fifty five and change, it would have been ten dollars less had we remembered to bring our coupon. We’re on their mailing list and they send out coupons fairly often, though we never seem to remember to take them.

Poppy’s is a very good place. The food is awesome, there’s simply too much of it if that sort of thing can be considered a problem. The décor is classy, different and quite nice, the staff, aside from the front of house get-togethers were all professional and efficient. I highly recommend this place, the food is much better than and price-comparable to the franchise sports bars.

Poppy’s Ristorante

2000 N. Truman Rd.

Crystal City, Mo

http://www.poppysparlor.com

We’re back!

Thanksgiving weekend we didn’t go out, no need to, we’re crazy for turkey leftovers. Last week Angel and Adam were in Springfield, Mo. to attend a baby shower for her son and daughter-in-law’s fairly soon to arrive daughter. I stayed at the compound and attended to the needs of the seven or nine dogs, subsisting on home-made Chinese, rice, sweet/sour chicken and turkey-scrap wontons. Angel and Adam would be having the real deal, as is tradition whenever any of us go to Springfield . She would be bringing some back, which is mandatory, and I wanted to compare my rice to the Queen City’s best effort.

Earlier in the week I received an email from Poppy’s, a free pasta dish coupon on account of my upcoming birthday. I’d filled out a card last time we were there. I even entered my actual birthday on it. Sometimes I am less than honest when filling out those things. Usually I also put a phone number that is less than completely accurate. The number is in my name, it’s just that it’s only connected to a fax machine that Angel uses for her business. It’s usually turned off anyhow. And the email address I give out goes to an account that I only check once per week or so. I don’t know why I go to such great strides to mask my true identity, just habit I guess. Oh yeah, and because I don’t like junk-mail and solicitor phone calls. The fake birthday thing I can’t really explain though.

So with the coupon, I figured this was a sign from above that we should go to Poppy’s. Actually it’s more a technical feature of Poppy’s marketing strategy than divine behavior, but still, it solved the problem of where to go. I’ll probably get more of these things over the next few months from other restaurants as my many fake birthdays approach.

The Place:

The place is gorgeous, charming, warm and welcoming. Hard to imagine from the inside that it’s next door to a bowling alley. Go to the place’s web site to see some pictures if you haven’t already. Wood, lots of wood. The centerpiece, a thick German-looking stag-adorned mirrored hutch is prominent. The artwork is classy and well thought out.

It was about half-full when we got there, which was a bit later than usual. Angel needed to make a quick stop on the way to pick up some medicine for one of the dogs. Poor Deedee was suffering from a bug and exploding from all ends earlier in the day and Angel’s friend and comrade from CARE had just the dope she needed.  Unfortunately, since CARE’s shelter is well south of DeSoto in Washington County, this meant it was not really ‘on the way’ at all, it was in fact about an hour and a half from the time we left the house till we got to Crystal City. For those of you in Kentucky, it would be like driving to Hopkinsville by way of Mayfield, or in southern Maryland, like going to Annapolis via D.C.

Poppy’s is beautiful though, and they make awesome food.

As could be expected, there was Christmas music playing softly throughout, not a bad mix altogether although when ‘Santa Baby’ came on I wanted to throw a chair at something.*

The Food:

I wanted something different, so I scanned back in my top-secret notebook to see what I’d had the last time. Cannelloni, loved it. Adam asked for what he’d ordered as well, and recalled it fondly.

Scanning the menu anew I was rather indecisive. We ordered our tea, tea and Coke and shortly they arrived along with a basket of rolls and faux-butter packets. The rolls were near baseball sized and not too fluffy. They were not heavy at all but they were more substantial than the flour clouds that some places serve. I finally decided on the Shrimp Fettuccine, the waitress returned to take our orders. I let Angel order first, since I’m a proper gentleman, and as she spoke I looked down at the menu once again. The description of the Fettuccine popped up at me: Shrimp, mushroom, garlic, broccoli in a light cream sauce with provel cheese. I panicked. It was my turn to order having just discovered that my chosen dish was contaminated with broccoli! 

“And for you sir?” The young lady asked.

“Uh, the uh, Cannelloni.”

That’s right, I once again crumpled under the enormous pressure.

Angel looked at me, baffled, after I finished my order.

“I thought you were going to get something different.” She scolded.

“I’m fine.” I replied confidently.

Greek Salad

Angel and I had ordered the Greek Salad as a side, Adam the cheese, potato and bacon soup. Angel and Adam’s meal allowed for two sides, they each chose the day’s vegetable, broccoli.

The salads and soup arrived in good time, while waiting Angel and Adam played with their phone apps again, leaving me to scan the room and quietly absorb the ambiance. My phone doesn’t have apps, or a data plan, it may as well have a rotary dial and hopelessly tangled cord.

The bread was awesome, the salad delightful, with just one problem. The crisp and attractive salad was served on a saucer and was piled too high. Cutting the red pepper ring could not be done without considerable spillage.  It was quite tasty, almost as good as Trattoria Giuseppe’s, but the presentation, though cute, was a fail due to the messy top-heaviness of it.

The main courses arrived shortly after the salad and soup dishes were pushed aside. I had asked Adam about his soup.

“It was potato, cheese and bacon, what could possibly be wrong?”  Was his snarky answer. He gets his snarkiness from his mother.

Cannelloni

The cannelloni is a tube pasta, filled with beef, veal and chicken, covered in a red sauce and melted provel cheese. Provel is a St. Louis area specialty, you won’t find it many other places. It is not made around here, it’s just a blend of cheddar, Swiss and provolone that is made for the region due to the local differently-sophisticated tastes. It’s a hallmark of St. Louis style pizza. I’m not a huge fan of it, though it isn’t disgusting. I just find it a bit rich and overpowering. I’m no cheese snob though, I grew up on the stuff labeled ‘Individually wrapped, processed American cheese product’ which also means ‘not really cheese’.

Chicken Terazzini

Angel had ordered the Chicken Terazzini, Lightly breaded, fried , on a bed of spaghetti and a white cream sauce with fresh sea clams. Adam got the Chicken Alfredo, charbroiled  or lightly breaded, fried, topped with a blend of cheese and cream sauce on a bed of spaghetti. (He chose ‘fried’)

My portions were deceptively sized, they seemed small, but the sweetness and richness of the sauces filled me up in no time. It might have had something to do with the bowl of chili I’d had a few hours earlier. I couldn’t finish, and the heaviness was starting to make my cardio system ache, but there was it was actually very, very good.

Adam seemed to suffer a similar issue. “Heavy, a bit too cheesy, I should have gone for grilled.” He said as he pushed the not-quite-cleaned plate aside. Angel was still going gangbusters though, even dipping her disgusting broccoli into the creamy pasta sauce.

Summary:

Poppy’s is very, very good. It is also very, very rich. Do not go there if you’ve already had something heavy that day. Save it for the rich, creamy, heavy main course. The tastes are multi-dimensional and consistent. It’s a beautiful, classy yet casual place, staffed well. The price is not out of whack, especially if it’s your birthday. The original ticket said forty-seven dollars, but the final, discounted price was thirty-six. The food is top shelf, the menu is not cluttered. Highly recommended, we would happily take guests there.

BTW Last weekend Angel brought back some rice from Springfield, I compared, I liked mine better.

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*’Santa Baby’: I’ve always hated this song, I didn’t know why until a couple of years ago after I spent some time trying to figure out why this one, more so than even ‘Grandma got run over by a reindeer’ made me clench my fists. I think it has to do with the fake, cheap, lazy use of the word ‘tonight.’  It’s at the end of every verse. It doesn’t rhyme with anything else in the song. It’s used as a replacement, a fake rhyme in place of a rhyming word because the writers, J. Javits and P. Springer, just  weren’t very good at writing songs. I’ve noticed this sort of lazy fakery in other songs too, just not as prevalent. It’s as grating to me as listening to a teenager improperly use the word ‘like’ more than five times per sentence. “And I was like ‘whatever’, and he was like ‘sure thing’, and I was like ‘I know!’. . .”