Farmer's Kitchen & Concord Grill

Farmer's Kitchen
4660 Yeager Rd.
Hillsboro, Mo.
On Facebook

Concord Grill
11427 Concord Village Ave.
Affton, Mo.
On the Interwebs
On Facebook
Previous review

Yeah, this one's a little different, especially since I didn't even get to go to Concord Grill this weekend. But there's a story here, bear with me.
Saturday was to be a busy day. I had been personally invited to attend a gathering at Valley View Glade held by the Missouri Department of Conservation. The reason? My enviable wit, my lady-killer charm, my tenacious journalistic style? No, it was because property records for the area indicated I might own some glade or former glade land.
A glade is an area of very shallow soil. In Jefferson County they are classified as dolomite (a type of rock) glades, because of the large number of exposed and protruding outcroppings. In other areas, such as the Ozarks, these areas frequent hillsides and are also known as barrens, or bald knobs. Vegetation does grow there, just not very tall. Glades depend on wildfires to eliminate intrusive tree species, such as red cedar, and to rejuvenate the birth and growth of the hundreds of indigenous plants.
I have hiked a few of these protected areas in the county, and also discovered that there is a glade area on the unoccupied acreage below my house. My five acres used to be part of that larger land mass, but was split off to expedite the sale of the house. The land, very shallow soil, very hilly and rocky, full of crags and ravines is pretty much agriculturally and commercially useless. Sparse, stunted hardwoods, shallow soil, short, spindly grasses.
I wanted to attend so I got myself put on the list.
I got a late start though.
I stopped off in Hillsboro for a quick breakfast at:
The Place:

The Farmers Kitchen.
I've eaten breakfast there a half dozen or so times recently, I've grown to like it fine. Closer to home than Huddle House, my previous weekend breakfast favorite.
It's just off the main drag near Queens, the local supermarket.
I haven't given the place a formal review yet, for reasons that are a little complicated, but I do go there and have thoroughly enjoyed the food and service. Well, most of the time.
The place just recently opened under new ownership, they're still finding their stride, so I can't be too critical.
The Food:
That being said though, I always get the same, non-complicated thing. Basically the same breakfast I used to get at HH.
Two eggs, over medium, bacon, hash browns and a waffle.

What it usually looks like.

I must say, even at this last visit, they make a waffle that is far superior to HH, Waffle House, Denny's or IHOP. Farmer's Kitchen doesn't sweeten theirs so much.
If I were not already running late, I would have sent this day's plate back. The eggs were fine, the bacon was crispy, the waffle melted the big pile of butter beautifully. However, the hash browns were swimming in grease. They even lost their shape, appearing to be globs of greasy shredded potato than firm, crispy ribbons. I was really, really disappointed. I knew they could make hash browns, I've had them several times without complaint.
Against my better judgment, I ate most of them anyhow, choosing to absorb myself in my book rather than
obsess about it. I would pay for this bad decision later.
I didn't stay long, the service was kind of spotty and the book wasn't very good, so I thought I'd better try to get out of there before I missed the seminar altogether.
The service was indeed spotty, but I knew why. The ladies that waited on my table were new to me. Previously I'd always been tended to by a young, very pregnant lady. She's quite good, so I assumed on this morning that she must be about to pop and these were fill-in's or newbies. This is a rather new place, so I excused that.
I paid up and jumped into my car. I knew the way to the glade, I'd been there several times.
Well, sort of. Actually I knew the way to both big preserved glades just outside of Hillsboro. Naturally I went to the wrong one first, I was having that kind of day. Valley View is managed by the Dept of Conservation, the other, Victoria, by the Nature Conservancy.

Valley View Glade

They look a lot alike but they are several miles apart. As soon as I realized my mistake, which was not soon at all, I turned around and sped (at a safe, legal speed) to the other one, I was now twenty minutes late to a two hour event.
There were several cars in the lot, something that doesn't happen often. Most of my hikes had been solitary, as if I had the 220+ acres to myself. I knew that I was in the right place this time by the number of cars and trucks. I couldn't see or hear anyone, but I knew the trail only went in two directions. I could see about a half mile down one direction, nothing, they must have gone the other way, along the tree line, toward the creek
It's all down hill from the parking lot. About halfway a big, colorful, probably poisonous insect jumped on me. I pulled and twisted at my polo shirt to rid myself of the toxic beastie. Then I noticed how big a hurry I had been getting out of the house. My shirt was on inside out. No wonder the people in the restaurant had stared at me like a hobo.
I looked around, could see no one. I could hear them in the distance though. So I immodestly flipped my shirt right side out and checked the pit area for deodorant traces. All good.

Professional Conservationists.

I continued down the hill about a quarter mile or so and came up on the small group of fifteen or so. Jennifer and Justin from the conservation department were already in deep with the flora and fauna details, I hadn't missed much. I'd studied up on that back during my hiking days. Low, colorful flowering grasses dotted the almost barren landscape. I even spotted some Fremont's Leather Leaf, about ready to bloom. This particular species of the small plant only grows in glades, and only around Jefferson county. It's not a brilliant or beautiful plant, even with its small, subtle lavender blooms. I just always thought it was cool that the things only existed here.
They soon started discussing management, burning, tree clearing, which nature used to take care of all by herself. Nowadays of course, if a wildfire starts up anywhere near houses, we throw legions of firefighters at the perfectly natural and ultimately environmentally necessary event.
By NOT allowing the burn off,  small trees can actually grow and create a canopy, which prevents indigenous plants from growing. Deer, turkey and probably Sasquatches and whatever else lurks in these barren environs thrive on those small buds, grasses and seeds. Some of the plants will not even sprout in the modest shade created by a single scraggly cedar.
I knew this as well to, but I enjoyed being around other folks that cared. Justin pointed to a small, thick

100 years old?

shrub, about ten feet tall and half that big around. It looked spindly and  puny. They said what it was, but I didn't write it down. I said I had researched the flora and fauna, not memorized it.
Anyway that puny, sickly looking tree, in Justin's estimation, was probably over a hundred years old. Things do grow in the hot, dry, thin-soiled glades, just not very quickly.
Jennifer said that we also would be discussing the woodland areas around the glade. So we walked downhill another quarter mile or so. My tummy started making noises. A bloaty, uncomfortable feeling came over me. The greasy potatoes were demanding their due.
There are no restroom facilities in the glades, unless you count nature itself.  It's one thing if you are alone, quite another when you are in a group. I had not planned well. The second half of the talk I was too biologically distracted to participate or pay attention much. As soon as one of the conservationists mentioned heading back, I took the lead.
All up hill.
On a loose and muddy path.
I reached the parking lot first and drove away as quickly as I could.
For most of the rest of the day that pile of greasy potatoes haunted me. I got home before noon and just 'relaxed' for a while.
I even tried to take a nap. I was almost asleep when my work phone chirped.
Oh yeah, on-call.
When my phone chirps on a weeknight or weekend on my turn in the on-call schedule, it's never just a friendly greeting.
I checked the cryptic, robot generated messages, another message came in, then another, then another. . .  Not good.
Our system, one of those who's job it is to monitor other systems, was spitting out a litany of complaints.
I'll not bore you with the technical details, other than to say the internal network was acting up. Our systems, and there are hundreds of them, all talk to one another. A diagram of the network paths would less resemble a road map than a huge bowl of spaghetti. When one of the several systems that keeps track of how to reach the other systems throws a fit, communication stalls, users panic, guys like me say b-bye to the rest of the day.
It was only 1:30 P.M. but I knew that I would not be going out for dinner as planned.
I told Angel as much, she was okay with that, her day was quite busy taking care of the fifteen dogs she'd taken in boarding and training. She's used to this, I've always been on an on-call schedule. She knows that an plan-killing IT event can and will occur at all hours, most of them unpleasant. We would either have take out or make something ourselves.
This was very, very disappointing this time since I'd planned all week to return to:
The Place:
Concord Grill.
We were just there a month back, on the day I upgraded cars. We thoroughly enjoyed it and I said as much

in that week's review. The owner, Deb, even contacted me saying some very nice things about the review.
On the restaurant's web page she had a note that she's always looking to expand her arsenal of burgers. I dutifully submitted a suggestion. In her note to me she'd said that they were going to work on mine and would let me know when it would be available. She contacted me again earlier this week, they were going to offer it as a Saturday special.
That is why we had planned to go back on this day.
I had recommended a Shrimp Alfredo Burger.
Don't gag, think about it.
Basically surf and turf, grilled shrimp on a beautifully cooked burger, with a thick, creamy, buttery cheese sauce topping. What's not to love?
But no, I couldn't go. I explained as much in a short note to Deb. I felt really bad, but such is the life of an on-call IT guy. IT administration has many rules, methods and guiding principles, the most commonly cited one is of course, Murphy's law. If a thing can go wrong, it will, especially, according to one of the many corollaries, at the most inopportune time.
It would have been good, probably outstanding. Concord Grill makes the best thick burgers in my broad reviewing area, by a long shot.
A while later, while I was watching the systems and waiting for the all-clear call from the network guys, Angel announced "Comfort food, we need comfort food!"
I knew exactly what she meant.
Back in olden days, in the 'salad days' (Which , ironically rarely, if ever, included a salad) we prepared and ate mostly heavy, starchy midwestern food. Meat, potatoes, bread, etc. Lots of potatoes.
Not anymore. We don't even keep potatoes in the house now. I love potatoes, really, really love potatoes, but for the past year I only have one or two servings per week, if that many, usually on Saturday, when we eat out. My main food problem has always been the starches. When the doctor showed me a chart and wagged his finger at me last year, I knew what I needed to do.
But this was Saturday night.

Angel made a list and headed out to Queens. We were pretty low on several things anyhow.
That evening I peeled four or five spuds then chopped them up into 1/4 inch, roughly, cubes. She heated up the oil, something else we don't have much of in our pantry anymore. I then sliced and diced part of an onion. Then I had to talk on the phone for a while to the tired and frantic network guys.
We used to make this meal a lot.
Fried potatoes, scrambled eggs, biscuits, bacon, maybe some ham, and definitely a big, thick, steamy pile of sausage gravy.
I knew the potatoes would be better than those that I'd had that morning, Angel knows what she's doing.
It worked, it all came together beautifully. The gravy, which out of newly acquired habit, I applied sparingly, going for the taste, not the quantity. The eggs were fluffy, the biscuits, canned, since neither of us makes biscuits from scratch often enough to be very good at it, were golden brown. The bacon was crispy and plentiful. We couldn't eat it all, but we knew that. This stuff reheats just fine on Sunday morning.
Summary:
The morning's meal was unfortunate. I know Farmer's Kitchen can do better than this. I'm counting on it. I will be back, probably in the next weekend or two. Out of a half dozen breakfasts there I've enjoyed them all just fine except for this one. I'll cut them some slack, this one time. I like that they are locally owned and so close to home. I want them to succeed. I know they can.
Concord Grill will be fine as well. I am truly disappointed that I was unable to go there this weekend. I had my review mostly, mentally, already written, the photos already framed.
Alas.
Home cooked comfort food is always a sure-fire hit. That's exactly why we can't have it very often. This stuff is all wrong nutritionally speaking, unless you are able to routinely burn off thousands of heavy calories per day. For some of us though, it's now a rare and precious treat.
I'm on call next weekend too, so, who knows.

Concord Grill

11427 Concord Village Ave.
Affton, Mo.
On the Interwebs
On Facebook



It is impossible to answer the question "Why this place?" without discussing my car. My new(er) car.
For the last epoch or two I've been driving small, cheap, disposable cars. I don't invest much into them and as soon as they became too much cost/trouble, I get rid of them and get another one. My commute (80 miles per day) is brutal on cars, especially small, cheap, disposable ones.
This, the third year of my unimpressive Chevy coupe's term of service, was to be its last. I'd put sixty-plus thousand miles on it in that time, and recently had to pour lots of hard earned ducats into it just to get it to pass the safety and emissions inspections. So for the last couple of months, I've been thinking about a replacement. This is new. In the past I never really thought about cars until it was too late. Then I'd just go grab whatever was available on the lots for the price I had budgeted. That's harder to do than you might think, I'm somewhat of a tightwad. Sure, I sometimes imagine myself tooling around in a pricey, flashy engineering and aesthetic marvel, but when it comes to contemplating the $$$, I run away, shrieking.
As I was researching this time though, a process that largely consisted of noticing other cars, on the road or in the parking lot, I found myself most pleased with only two or three options. Not just appearance, that's just paint and metal bending, but to a great degree, reliability, ruggedness and MPG's. I spend a lot of money on gas doing this commute. I also decided to up my budget a little, that opened up a new line of possibilities. One of those came available, at a reasonable price at a reputable dealership (another requirement) and I went for it. This process was expedited by the fact that Adam was finally in the market, had saved some money, and was looking for a small, cheap and perhaps disposable car.  So I sold him my Chevy. He offered a little more than I would have earned on a trade-in, but less than reputable dealerships would even have something in their inventory to match.

A win/win.
So what was the question?
Oh yeah.
Knowing all week that I would be going to a particular dealership, probably on Saturday, and knowing that buying a car can easily turn into an all-day event, I looked at online maps around the dealership and located places to eat that we'd not been to before.
Sure enough, though I had concluded the business aspects of the deal earlier in the day, they needed to prep it for delivery and that would take a while. So I told them "I'll stop in  later." and drove home in what would be probably the last highway run for me and my unimpressive Chevy. No sappy emotionalism, my relationship to cars is roughly the same as my relationship with computers. I like them just fine, to the point of not even thinking about them when they work, but seriously hate them when they are broken. Kind of like marriage.
This review is about the place I'd found within a mile or so of the dealership.
Another aside:
As I was researching the Concord Grill, I came across the following from their web page:
"We have grown from 6 burgers to 40.  My goal is to have 50 different burgers including our burger of the month and we are very close to that.  If you ever have an idea for a burger please email me and we will give it a try!"
I couldn't resist. I looked over the online menu at the huge selection of sometimes bizarre burgers and tried to think of something that they hadn't thought of, also making sure that I would actually eat the thing if necessary. Thus, after minutes of thought, I came up with one:
Shrimp Alfredo Burger.
So I sent an email to Deb, the owner, as she requested. I also mentioned that I'd never actually been to her place but likely would soon.
I received this reply later that evening:
"Well, that does sound interesting.  We could run that for a special and see how it sells.  Thanks for the idea and we hope you come see us soon."
And you believe that one mere, mortal man cannot make a real difference in this crazy old world.
The Place:  (finally)
On Concord Village Avenue, just a hop and a skip west of  Highway 21, (Tesson Ferry) just off Lindbergh.
I'd picked up my new(er) black beauty, the German engineered and Mexican assembled VW Jetta, and led Angel and Adam, in the family truckster, to the place. The front lot was full, it's not a very large place. There were exactly two parking spaces available in the back though. Popular place.
Sure enough it was nearly full as we entered. It was also a little loud, like sports-bar loud. An older building, low ceilings, probably under a thousand square feet. (just guessing).
The lighting was dim, like a bar, and in the back, there was, sure enough, a nice oak-topped bar. The walls were nearly covered in beer-logo mirrors, most I'd heard of, a few I hadn't. There was an empty four-top near the bar, we were led to that one.
The table was, as all the tables were, covered with an inexpensive green vinyl tablecloth, the chairs were simple as well. There was absolutely nothing on the table but the silverware(knife and fork only), wrapped in dark blue hand towels, and one each, salt and pepper shaker. No candles, condiments, flowers, dessert cards, nothing. I liked this. I'd just that morning had a modest breakfast at The Farmer's Kitchen in Hillsboro, sat at a two-top, and had trouble moving the various containers and cards out of the way to make room for my meal and my book. I've noticed the same thing at the other breakfast House's, Waffle and Huddle. Too much clutter for me.
We were greeted by our server, a nice young man whose name I regrettably did not get, but the receipt says he is 'Server ID  17.' He handed us menus and asked about drinks. Tea, Dr Pepper (no ice) and Pepsi.
Sure enough the burgers by themselves filled an entire page. I didn't expect my creation to be listed, or even offered, it had only been two days since I'd sent the email. At best the Concord Grill's research and development labs were still working on a functional prototype.
I was not disappointed though, there were plenty of fine sounding burgers listed, along with a few that made me gag a little at the very thought.
Everyone at the table wanted a burger, sure, why not. The place boasted about the 'Best Burgers in Town', right there in the menu. That's a hell of a claim. Challenge, accepted. I'd already, from my earlier research, decided on a couple that would be good. Angel and Adam took a little more time, but also decided that we needed to try the toasted (fried) ravioli, because, as their menu said:

The Food:
Server 17 returned, we were ready:
Me: Concord Burger. Cheddar cheese sauce and bacon topped with onion straws.
Angel: Smothered Burger. Grilled onions, mushrooms and beef gravy. (Because, Gravy!)
Adam; and this surprised and impressed me a little:
Hawaiian Burger. Sweet and sour sauce, bacon and pineapple.
Hmm. Whatever floats your Mālia, I guess. (A Hawaiian boat)
The drinks had arrived and I was surprised. A place that serves scores of different beers usually can't be expected to make a good glass of tea. This wasn't really bad at all. A +3 at least.
  The ravioli came soon. It didn't look as elegant as some we've had recently, a little flatter, probably frozen rather than house-made and the sauce was pretty basic as well. But it was good enough. Maybe the rangoons next time.
As we munched on the fried pasta we pulled out our electronic devices as we tend to do a lot. Well, Adam and I pulled ours out, Angel had left hers in the car, and the car was way out back. So we laughed at her mistake and then ignored her plight.
I did pause and look around a little, She'd interrupted my important work by saying "This is a diverse crowd."
Sure enough it was. A table of loud, working class guys, a table of three generations of a family, a few elderly couples, even a college aged couple, dressed like Seattle in the mid 90's, quietly eating salads.
And the place was full, it stayed full. Several new arrivals were greeted by name by some other table full. this meant this was probably a neighborhood joint, a lot of the people knew each other. The din was palpable, especially the beer-drinkers at that one table, but somehow it didn't seem too bad. The laughter and conversations was sort of familial, like you'd expect in a neighborhood pub. Because of this we didn't mind it too much.
The burgers arrived, and boy they looked good.
Thick style burgers served up on kaiser buns. Along side the burgers was an entire slice of onion, a little shard of lettuce and a few home-style pickle slices. To me and entire slice of onion is a but much, so I broke up a couple of the outer rings and discarded the rest. The fries were big and crispy, seasoned with what appeared to be salt and pepper, though I thought I detected a little something else, garlic maybe.
I assembled my burger, then squished it to make it small enough to fit into my mouth, they were indeed thick burgers. Oh yeah, they'd asked how we wanted them cooked, I took mine medium rare. Sure enough a nice pink center.
When I squished it, hot, melty cheese erupted out the sides, Mmmm, melty cheese.
It tasted great. This was good quality meat, cooked expertly. The burger was a bit messy, and I loved that. the heavier than normal bun held up just fine.
 Angel examined hers and looked a little disappointed. Not enough gravy for her tastes. "I wish they'd served it with a dipping dish with more gravy, that's the only complaint I have though." She said. Have I mentioned that Angel likes gravy? I'm sure I've brought that up somewhere before.
Adam's looked like a Hawaiian burger, a big slice of grilled pineapple topping it off. I was happy to hear that there was no Spam on it though, Hawaiians love Spam.
 They were too big for us though. We're sort of small as far as people go. We're certainly smarter and more sensible that most people, but just a slightly smaller size.
It wasn't until later as I started this review that I noticed the burger page offered a smaller version of any burger for $1 less. That would have been about perfect. No problem though, we just ate as much as we could.
Summary:
A truly, truly enjoyable meal. every aspect of it, the food, the service, the cheerful, familial ambiance, everything was exceptional. Sure, as I said earlier, it was a little noisy, but that didn't seem to matter much. Even halfway through gorging ourselves we were talking about 'the next time'. Already thinking about what else we'd like to try there, maybe even some of the desserts, like the Twinkies, (I assume, fried) topped with Reese's Peanut Butter and Chocolate or honey and powdered sugar.... er, maybe not. But still the burgers were excellent, perhaps the best thick burger I've had around town.

Oh, and about that. This place is located in Affton, which is one of the scores of towns that make up suburban St. Louis County. (St. Louis itself is not in St. Louis county, it is its own county.) So the claim of the biggest and best burgers in town, (Affton, pop. 20,000) is certainly possible. As for the entirety of the Metro St. Louis area, I'm not so sure, I haven't even tried most of the burgers offered in that vast landscape. But I think the claim is certainly solid for Affton itself.
The closest Metro rival in my mind, in the admittedly meager number of places I've eaten, would be the Train Wreck up north in Westport Plaza. The burger I get there is very, very similar to the one I'd had at the Concord Grill.  So a comparison is only fair. I'd say the Concord burger was at least as good, every bit as good. At worst, a tie. As for biggest, well like I said, I can't finish a huge burger, so that really doesn't score many points for me.
An exceptional meal though, Server 17 took good care of us and was on the spot with servings, refills and the check.
The bill came in at forty eight bucks, about normal for a big burger pub, that covered the ten buck (average) burgers, the fries and the appetizer. Certainly a lot of food for the money, though next time we'll probably go with the smaller burgers, especially if they offer a 'Shrimp Alfredo Burger'. Mmmm.
(I'll send Deb an email asking her to let me know when/if it is ever offered. It seems only fair that I get a chance to rate my own idea.)

Cafe Arnold

3946 Jeffco Blvd
Arnold, Mo.
On Facebook

There was an article in the county weekly paper that said that Cafe Arnold was reopening this week with new ownership. We'd not been there under the previous ownership, so we thought we'd give the new owners a fresh perspective. I know, I've told you countless times that I don't like going to Arnold, too busy, wind-y roads, traffic lights, lots and lots of traffic. I looked this address up though and found out it was on the southern edge of Arnold, out of the way of all that mess.

The Place:

In a shopping center that also holds a Chinese restaurant, a nutrition store, and across the parking lot, a McDonalds. Sort of hard to see from the road, the sign is large, but it is sort of hidden amongst several others.
We went in and were immediately greeted by two or three staff members at the reception counter. They asked whether we wanted bar side or dining side. Dining. They led us to a booth in the back.
The place was dimly lit, dark carpets, dark wainscoting and subdued wall colors. This was not slapped together cheaply, it looked substantial and like it had been around for a while. Not grimy, at all, just lived in.
In the dining area there were seven flat screen TV's all muted and showing basketball. Some sort of tournament of some kind, I think I saw a NCAAP logo or something like that. No one was watching it though, not  even in the bar area. A box was playing music, 90's stuff, Angel said that back in the day it would have been called 'Alternative'. As she was saying this I was trying to wrap my head around the notion of the 90's being 'back in the day'.  It was loud enough to hear the lyrics, but not enough to drown out conversation. Plus, I kind of liked most of it. Beck, Cake, etc.
Amanda, a young, friendly and energetic pony-tailed girl (lady) introduced herself, handed out menus and asked about drinks. Tea, Diet Coke (no ice) and root beer. "We serve root beer in a bottle, is that okay?" She asked Adam. Of course it was okay.
Amanda listed off a couple of specials, neither of which appealed to me, I'd done some research ahead of time and knew pretty much what I wanted.
Angel asked for the toasted ravioli as an appetizer. We're sort of comparing them with other places apparently, since everyone offers them.
The Food:
The menu was several pages, but not too complicated. It was mostly (more later), well arranged. I glanced over it knowing that the on-line menu I had seen, I think from the previous ownership, would be different than the new one in front of me.
On the online menu I had seen a 'slider' plate. Four mini sandwiches, barbecue pork, ground sirloin, chicken, etc. I looked on the 'Sandwiches' page on my menu, couldn't find them. Well, I knew there would be changes. Hey, a BLT!
Sounded pretty good. I love BLT's. Unfortunately it is very hard to review a restaurant based on that. Bacon, lettuce tomato, mayo, bread. The problem is that the restaurant adds no flavors to this, nor is much technique involved. Some places use thick bacon, some thin, a lot of bacon, or just a little, but it is really hard to screw up a BLT.(though it has been done)
Angel leaned over to me and asked if I was going to get the sliders as I had said I would. "I didn't see them." I told her. She shoved her menu in front of me, the 'sides' page I believe it was. There they were. Hmm, odd. Whatever, sounds good. Three kinds, mix or match.
Amanda brought our drinks, the tea looked dark and clear, always a good sign. It wasn't strong on flavor, but definitely better than most places serve up We'll call it a +3 or +4.
We'd all  made up our minds, Angel surprised me.
"Fish Tacos." She said, adding some some sick side dish of cauliflower and broccoli (blech!).
I couldn't recall Angel ever ordering fish tacos, ever. I knew I hadn't, this seems to be a rather recent offering, at least to the places we frequent. I've heard lots of people talk about them for quite a while, it just was never something I craved. Loyal fans will recall that I am pretty picky about fish, just see last week's O'Charley's review. I have several specific preferences for fish and 'taco' has just never appealed to me. No, I have never tried one. If you think this is finally, absolute proof that I am closed-minded, you haven't been reading this journal very long. I know I am, I've never tried to hide that fact. So yes indeed, like every child ever created, I can dislike something just fine without ever having tried it.
Adam ordered the sliders as well, one of each, pork, beef, chicken. I asked for two pork, one beef, we both asked for fries with that.

Amanda had also brought the ravioli along with three saucers and a big pile of paper napkins.  The marinara looked thick and chunky, almost salsa-like. I dipped one, turned it ninety degrees and dipped it again, a method I invented to avoid the need for double-dipping a two bite treat. The sauce was indeed flavorful. The pasta was thick-filled, the filling was pretty good, meaty and cheesy. The pasta itself was a little doughy, but overall I liked it. Angel and Adam disagreed about it, Angel liking it, Adam, less so.   I'll call it a draw. Not the best in every way, but better than some, not as good as others. Mostly, the sauce was the best component.
Amanda took off, we all pulled out our electronic devices. This is something we do, because we live in the 21st century. We finished off the ravioli rather quickly, Amanda stopped by and interrupted our e-stares. "Can I take that away for you?" she asked, pointing to the empty dish.
"Can't you see we're busy?" I scolded. Fortunately she laughed, as Angel thrust her elbow into my side.
The place was starting to fill up, I mean, really fill up. I looked up and saw that all the tables were occupied. I overheard a waitress explaining to some other diners some of the 'different' menu choices, meaning these were people that were regulars during the previous ownership.
Angel looked up as well. "Oh, my. I guess 'dining side' also means senior citizen side." I looked around. Sure enough of the twenty or more tables, we were nearly the youngest group there.
"I think that has more to do with the time of day than anything else." I told her. We do eat out early, starting around five P.M. further perpetuating stereotype that older people eat dinner earlier than youngsters. We do it, not because we're old, it's because of the rigid dog schedule. The dogs dine at 4:30, and while they are sleeping off their meal, we sneak out.

Soon enough the plates arrived. My eyes popped open when I saw Angel's. There were four, count 'em four big thick tacos, served on a metal taco rack. (yes, there apparently is such a thing)
In comparison our sliders and fries looked quite small. Not too small, for my appetite, just about right. In fact I had been pleased that there were only three, not four sliders. The portion of fries was also, pleasantly smaller than expected.
I opened up my sliders. I was a little disappointed. There was not enough pork to cover the small, toasted buns. The same with the beef. It was thick, like made from a ball of beef then flattened a little, but it too was

smaller than the small bun. You can see this in the picture.
However, the taste of both kinds of slider was very, very good. the toasted buns were excellent as well. I just wish they'd filled the buns a little more.
Angel asked Adam about his fries.
"Look!" he said, holding one up horizontally. This was in reference to last week's O'Charley's meal, where the fries were limp. These were able to support their own weight, crisp, as fries should be. Adam really, really didn't like O'Charley's. "Boring and manufactured" He had exclaimed at the time. This reference came up again a couple of times during this meal. "It tastes like they actually made it here." He said of his sliders, instead of the 'manufactured' O'Charley's food.
Angel tore off a juicy chunk of one of her tacos and handed it to me. I tried it.
It was awesome.
Yeah, I mean it, Awesome!  The tortilla was cloud-soft, the fish, and there was plenty of it, was flaky, tender, and delicious. It was perfectly cooked. The sauce and veggies were delightful as well.
Angel pointed out that the fish wasn't breaded and deep fried. "I've seen some of these that looked like fried frozen fish sticks broken up." I had to admit that I had always assumed that's what it was supposed to be. But this, this was something I would actually order. This was something I could look forward to. So yes, Cafe Arnold has changed my life!
However, as I had secretly predicted, Angel could not finish even the third taco, much less the fourth. So she asked Amanda for a box.
Summary:

Warning: I'm going to go a little long here.
  If you are in a hurry, suffice it to say, for the most part, we loved it. Definitely an A+ for a first week opening.
The bill came in at a very respectable forty six dollars and change. Almost exactly what we paid for a very sub-par meal at O'Charley's the week before.
Since Cafe Arnold is a place we'd never been to, and since it is under new ownership, I'm going to treat Cafe Arnold like a brand new place. I do not know about the history, whatever it was or was not before, to me, is moot.
Loyal fans to this site, yes there are a couple, will know that I tend to give new places a little latitude. I understand that there's a new menu, new staff, new policies and procedures. It also means that we'll visit again in a few weeks/months to see how many of those start-up 'infractions' have been worked through.
Firstly though, the tastes were great. The pork and beef sliders and the fish tacos were simply quite tasty. The service, Amanda especially, was excellent. Well, the service was great throughout the meal.... the end of it, not so much. The wait for the bill and the wait for the receipt were way too long. But like I said, I understand new staff, policies and procedures. The place was very well staffed. I saw at least a dozen staff members just from my vantage point. None were standing around or idle. They all seemed to know what they were doing.
Coverage in the dining area seemed a bit light. Part of the delay at the end was because Amanda was covering a couple of, at least, larger groups. I watched as she patiently explained menu items, etc. to various diners. She was doing her job and doing it quite well. Perhaps spread a little thin though.
Our perspective of her was excellent. She knew the menu, answered our questions, cleared our table, refilled the drinks, all without a problem. I suggest she be given an enormous raise, she was working very, very hard and was not getting noticeably flustered.
The food, as I said, was quite tasty indeed. There were a couple of issues though that could be fairly easily corrected, in my opinion.
1. Fill up the sliders. The meat is not that expensive, the buns are small. The slider plate cost as much as the enormous fish taco plate. There was plenty of meat in those.
2. The menu was a little confusing about the sliders:
"Fresh mini toasted hamburger buns with your choice of cheese, lettuce . . . pickle and French Fries."
I recommend re-writing that part. It sounded to me like the fries were considered a topping instead of a side.
Maybe the sliders are considered a side or an appetizer, I suppose that's possible, but maybe they should be also offered as a 'sandwich' option. That's where I was looking for them, maybe, that's just me. They tasted great though.
3. Enormous taco plate. I'm curious, maybe it's just us, but how many tacos get 'boxed'? That sure was a lot of food. They were very, very good. Angel reheated the fourth one on Sunday afternoon, she said it was still really good.
4. You might likely disagree, but here's another thing I'd really, really like to see. From my seat I could see six of the seven TV's. The only one I couldn't see clearly was the one directly over my head. Could you please, please tune one or two of them to something other than sports?
I understand that sports is/are quite popular. But nobody in the senior citizen's, er, I mean, dining side of the restaurant even looked up at the games very often. I heard no one talking about them. Maybe things were different amongst the younger, hipper, bar side of the house. I understand there are eight TV's in there, but on our side, no one was particularly interested in the games. We probably would be if the Cards were in the pennant race, sure, but Texas vs. Michigan basketball (or whoever it was)? Not so much. How about HGTV, or the Weather Channel, or whatever that channel is that runs those 'How It's Made' marathons on weekends. Have you  ever watched that? The other day I got trapped in my recliner watching them assemble diesel locomotives, followed by a detailed accounting of  producing bronze cabinet door handles. It's simply mesmerizing.
Anyway, I'll  understand if you don't, but I sure would like it if somebody offered alternative options like that.
5. I mentioned this earlier. The meal service was fine, excellent in fact, but the staff seemed to be deployed a little lopsided. I'm pretty sure this will clear up as things become more familiar, but excessive waiting for the bill/receipt can be frustrating.
We really, really liked the food. "Better than expected" is what Angel said, then added "I'm not sure exactly what I was expecting, but it was better than that."
Well, I warned you that this would run long. I'm trying to be constructive though, not harsh and pointlessly critical. If we didn't like the place, we wouldn't bother with so much detail.
Good job, new owners, good job!

Gordon's Stoplight

500 Bailey Rd
Crystal City, Mo

Last time we went to this little place, Angel was out of town. This weekend, Angel was out of town, so we decided to go back. We're a family of ad-hoc traditions.
Gordon's has been serving the best hamburgers in the world since 1948, it says so right on the menu. That's an awful long time to hold a record like that.
The Place:
It's right on the corner, you can't miss it. It's a diner, like the old style diners that only have stools at a counter and the griddle and fryers are right there in front of you. There was only one other customer there when we arrived so we had the run of the joint. There was no prepared food stacked up, it's a make-to-order place.
The menu is right on the wall above the grill. Not a lot of variety, but variety isn't why you come to this place. It's a burger joint, not fancy burgers either, just simple, American burgers. They have chili as well. Mostly though it's about the burgers.
One third of the staff approached us. A twenty-something lady with confident eyes and like her two co-workers, wearing a Gordon's tee shirt. You can buy one for your self there, the tee shirt, not the twenty-something lady. Actually I just assumed this, I didn't ask.
She leaned over the counter and asked "Can I bring you something to drink?"
I answered "Yes."
Then she stared at me for a while as if she didn't speak English.
Finally it dawned on me that even though I had answered the question I was asked, she was waiting for more information. Why can't people just say what they mean?
Adam broke the building tension by saying 'Pepsi please." He didn't make that sentence up, it's actually a tag line from old Pepsi ads and commercials, some things just stick with you.
She looked back at me and I said "Tea please." Which isn't a tag line from an old ad, but maybe it should be. Simple, memorable, catchy. Maybe I should suggest it to Big Tea's advertising people.
She formed her next question more carefully: "You guys need a few minutes before you order?"
I answered this question exactly like I'd answered her previous one, "Yes." though it seemed sufficient this time.
The Food:
It didn't take long, I knew the burgers were thin, so a double would be in order. Cheese, yep, cheese. And onion rings, which are battered and fried rings of onions.
When she came back with our drinks she looked us over and sized us up. I wanted to tell her that I was married in case she was getting any wrong ideas. Two hot guys out looking for action, it happens to us a lot when Adam and I are out alone. Instead, she asked us if we were ready. I said "Yes." again, her mood darkened, I could see it on her face. Once again Adam intervened and called out his order, a double Jumbo, no onions. A jumbo burger comes topped with coleslaw and barbecue sauce. He asked for  fries with that.
Rather then get into an ugly semantic argument I just told her what I wanted. A double, with cheese and onion rings. She asked if I wanted anything else on it. I said yes. Adam cleared his throat the way his mother does when I'm on the verge of embarrassing her. So I conceded and asked her a question. "What are my options?"
Lettuce, grilled onions, tomato, and mayonnaise.  I laughed off the mayonnaise option because this isn't Canada, this is America.
We watched as the cooking staff, two young men, attacked the order with practiced professionalism. The griddle master had just scraped down his hot top, and the fry chief dropped a handful if rings into fry basket. While the fryer was doing its thing and the griddle man was poking and prodding the patties, the fry guy assembled the buns and extras onto ceramic plates. The young lady took care of a couple of walk-ups. There's a walk-up window at the side for people that are too bashful or under-dressed to go through the front door.
I looked around noticing the ATM. One of those third party machines that charge an arm and a leg. Gordon's doesn't take plastic. We knew this and were prepared, we'd stopped at the bank on the way.
The griddle made quick work of the burgers, they're thin and hand smashed giving them a rough and rugged appearance. You're not going to get a perfectly pressed and perfectly round burger here. I like them better this way.
Soon enough the lady brought us our meals. She asked if there was something else we'd like. Adam told her "No thank you" before I could answer.
All went quiet. The crew of three wandered off to the far side of the kitchen area and started talking among themselves. No open orders at the moment, they caught a break. Adam and I munched away. I tried a couple of his fries, nice and thin and crispy. My onion rings were crisp as well, there just wasn't very many of them.
The no-frills buns started to deteriorate near the end, but that was okay, they provided free napkins right there where we were sitting.
The patties were surprisingly moist considering how thin they were. I'd added mustard and a little ketchup to mine.
Summary:
I asked Adam how his was and was quite surprised at his answer. "Excellent" is what he said. Long time fans will realize how rare and odd this is. Quite a rousing endorsement from a guy whose entire college career was summed up as 'fine'.
In fact it was pretty good. After all it is the best hamburger in the world and has been since the Truman administration.
My only complaint was with the amount of onion rings. They were indeed very good, but if you compare a standard order of fries (Adam's plate) and a standard order of rings (my plate) well, one of these things is not like the other. Adam mentioned that the barbecue sauce was very good, he'd noticed that it was made especially for Gordon's. They'll sell you some of that too.
The bill came to sixteen bucks and change, I slipped the lady a fresh twenty and instructed her to keep the change. That, she seemed to understand without further explanation.


Previous visit:
http://eatandcritique.blogspot.com/2010/04/gordons-stoplight-drive-in.html

Texas Tater N' More

144 7^th Street

Hillsboro, Mo

On Facebook

The new burger chart

I’d been meaning to go back to this place sooner, and more often. The ladies that own Texas Taters were really supportive of the local Library effort and deserve more patronage.
The day had started out drab, gray and drippy but had cleared up and warmed up quite nicely, in the 50’s by dinner time. I was ready for some food and mildly excited by the fact that Texas Taters were now offering burgers according to their Facebook page. I saw this as wonderful news for those families that are not unanimous in their desire for a baked potato. 

The Place:

Cavernous interior

 On 7^th street… which I think is a joke since I really don’t think Hillsboro has seven actual streets. I just know that it’s visible from Main Street, north of BB. It’s above an auto parts store and has a drive-up window.

This building was probably something else before it was a restaurant/diner and its not the ideal building for what could be a cozy little eatery. Inside it is almost cavernous, high ceilings and about twice as much floor space as it needs. They keep it very shiny and clean though. The white tile floors and bright blue walls cheer it up, the Mocha painted wall in the back tones the brightness down a bit. In the background a radio station was playing, Christmas music, which I was already pretty sick of. At work they’ve been playing it endlessly for about three weeks, enough already.

We stepped up to the menu poster on the wall by the counter and studied our options.

The Food:

Tablecloth

Angel wasn’t with us the only other time we’d been in. She studied the menu like it was a college final. Angel likes baked potatoes though, I mean who doesn’t?

I’d decided to get a burger since it was a new offering. I queried the ladies on the sides, the size of the burger, toppings, which they had listed as LTPO, which took me a moment to figure out that it stood for  lettuce, tomatoes, pickles and onions. I also asked about their ‘sauce’ listing. It turns out that they were referring to ketchup, mustard, mayo, etc. I went for a classic burger though they offered more exotic southwestern configurations. I asked for mustard and ketchup as the 'sauce'. When I couldn’t decide on the side, crinkle fries or wedges, the lady offered to serve a little of both. Very accommodating.

Classic Burger with plenty of PLTO

Sure enough Angel built herself a baked potato with gravy, grilled chicken and then threw a wrench at rational thinking and added broccoli. Adam also got a potato, one of the standards, a ‘Cowboy’ which was topped with barbecue pork, but traded out the onion straws for more bacon. Adam likes bacon, because he’s a good, honest, patriotic American. As for drinks, we stayed on script, Tea, Diet Coke and root beer. I had noticed in the back decanters for Luzianne. These ladies are not just nice, they’re smart and classy.

We sat at a booth admiring the colorful Texas-themed table coverings. We sat at the ‘boots’ booth.

We sat for a moment chatting and slurping our drinks out of the 24 ounce Styrofoam cups, which I do not particularly care for.
 Angel had taken Rudy, our foster dog of multiple breeds, through her morning training class and was quite proud of his progress. He came to us very, very skittish but has warmed up a lot since we’ve started socializing him and letting him stay upstairs. That way he spends the entire day around noises, comings and goings and in close proximity to other dogs. Rudy has adopted Adam as his daddy. Adam is a softie for Rudy as well.

A gentleman brought our baskets to us in short order.

Grilled Chicken ad (blech) broccoli.

The potatoes are huge, Texas-sized. The burger wasn’t quite as big as I thought it would be from the description I was given and this was a good thing. I hate wasting food. It was certainly big enough and sided with a very generous portion of mixed crinkle fries and skin-on wedges. The crinkle fries were nice and crispy, the wedges might have been crispier had they been left in the fryer a bit longer, or pre-cooked a little. They were not bad at all, just not as crispy as they could have been.

Angel and Adam dug in and I didn’t hear much from them for several minutes.

“I wonder if you can get a baked potato with a side of fries?” She asked. Of course you can, this is America!

The burger was pretty good, grill-fried, medium rare, thin and tender. There was plenty of LTPO, all fresh. The Texas-branded bun was quite good, and a clever touch.

Cowboy, with extra bacon

 I polled the family as they finished up, rather as they stopped eating. These potatoes are huge, and as the lady pointed out to us she’s never been taken up on her offer to serve up seconds to anyone. 

“The chicken was good, fresh and seasoned well, the broccoli was cooked perfectly and the portions were generous.” Is sort of what she said, my note-taking skills don't allow for verbatim comments. “Really good.” She added.

Adam had only a few words, all of them positive. “The pork got to be a little sweet after a while” was as bad a comment as he could muster. Both of them left topping-less carcasses of baked potato skin. Angel added that it would be nice if they offered up a tub of butter or margarine for the last bit of the potato since once the toppings are gone, the remainder is a bit dry.

Summary:

I like this place, I really do. We will go back. I’m not crazy about the building, but there’s not much that can be done about that. There are not many available buildings in the tiny shire of Hillsboro, so short of building from scratch; you have to settle for what’s available. I love, love, love! the idea of a baked potato place. The ladies that run it are very nice and accommodating.  They really seemed to care what we thought and were quite proud of their offerings.

The bill came to a mere twenty three dollars and change, which is pretty cheap for three full meals.

Aside from the potatoes and now, burgers, the place offers several sandwiches and a good variety of ice cream and frozen treats. I’m not sure how anyone has room for dessert when they finish one of these huge taters, but it’s there if you can handle it.
Highly recommended! They also cater and deliver.

Wendy's

852 McNutt St.

Herculaneum, Mo.

http://www.wendys.com/

The Place:

Why Wendy’s?

Well, a couple of weeks ago we created a list of fast food burger chains. Our favorites, from most to least were: 

Jack in the Box

Hardees

McDonalds

Dairy Queen

Wendy's

Burger King

Almost anything else actually somewhat edible including road kill, tree bark and rotting algae.

White Castle

This got us thinking, well, actually it got Angel thinking. The one we’d had the least actual memories of was Wendy’s. Angel couldn’t remember the fries. To her this is important, a game changer. One of the reasons she doesn’t have DQ much is their fries. They’re wimpy, limp, soft, almost mushy. Angel does not appreciate, at all, that sort of thing. But she could not recall Wendy’s fries. Since the two places were next to each other in the list, it seemed only fair to give them another shot. There was no argument.

A beautiful fall-like day, crisp, barely warm, the daylight receding several minutes earlier each day. Angel had spent the morning in Kirkwood, some pet parade of some kind. I’d spent the day between painting the bookshelves I’d built for the man-cave and researching/writing an entry about my three grandmothers for my ‘Family’ blog that required a lot of tedious amateur-genealogical research. Adam had helped with the dogs, keeping them on schedule. None of us had a big breakfast or lunch, we were all pretty hungry.

This particular Wendy’s is the closest one to our compound. Too far to be a casual stop-in, Festus is closer by several miles and Festus has just about every other chain joint there is, but not a Wendy’s

St. Louis area Wendy’s are still relatively rare. The franchise owners for the area got into some trouble a few years back and nearly all of them are, or were for a lengthy period, closed.

This one abuts a gas station at a busy intersection.

The Food:

I wanted chili but We were here to review the classic burger and fries. So I decided to ask for a large chili, to go. It would be my Sunday brunch. I don’t have to review Wendy’s chili. It is my favorite, by far, fast-food chili. It has been for over twenty years. Some people wouldn’t consider it chili at all since it lacks the fireball-hot seasoning. I don’t care what those people think, I like it.

Though I was hungry, I decided to keep it simple. A ¼ lb Single Cheesburger. Above all I wanted to see, since the photo and the name didn’t indicate ‘bacon’, if there would still be bacon on it. (See Dairy Queen review for explanation)

 Angel and Adam both ordered the ‘Son of Baconator’ which clearly would have bacon, plus two ¼ pound square, "fresh, never frozen" patties. We all got fries, medium sized.

Single Cheeseburger

We were handed our cups and while I waited at the counter for the order, Angel and Adam tried to figure out the space-age, overly complicated, robotic drink dispenser. When it came my turn to pour a drink I simplified the matter by just pouring unsweetened tea from a simple, separate dispenser.

The burgers didn’t appear terribly large, the fries did. Not the size of the fries but rather the amount. We ordered ‘medium’ but the packaging would rival anyone else’s ‘large’.

Angel and Adam were still complaining about the beverage robot. For all its fancy screens and menus, it was still out of Diet Dr. Pepper, Angel’s go-to soda. She’d had to pour regular Dr. Pepper instead. Adam had opted for root beer, but was frustrated with the stupid machine constantly returning to the home menu before completing his pour.

I opened up my small burger and confirmed my suspicions, no bacon. Angel and Adam pried theirs open and found. . . bacon.  See Dairy Queen? That’s not so complicated is it?

Adam had dispensed plenty of ketchup into little paper containers. We unwrapped everything and dug in.

Son of Baconator

“The fries may be my new number two.” Angel soon declared. This is no small thing. Her number one for fries, by a long shot, is McDonalds, a place I simply cannot tolerate, but must agree with her assessment of their fries.

These fries were indeed pretty good. Crispy, not oily or mushy.

“The burger’s okay but the bun tastes old.” Angel added.

“The bacon is crispy, better than at other places” Adam chimed in.

I agreed the fries were very good, the burger, though not spectacular was not bad at all.

Summary:

As I am writing this on Sunday afternoon, it has been just a couple of hours since I ate the chili. I was, as always, quite pleased with it. Meaty, not too spicy, just right. But this trip was about the burgers. The bill came to an unsurprising, just under twenty four bucks, including the to-go chili. A price consistent with other fast food burger joints.

Personally, I do NOT openly welcome
our new drink dispenser overlords

There’s a little disagreement still about McDonald’s position on the list. We decided that we’d agree to disagree, by that I mean I wouldn’t yell at them for being completely wrong. I have McD’s  pretty far down the list, perhaps even with Burger King, or because of the fries, just above it. What we did agree on was that Wendy’s, once again because of the fries, moved up, perhaps above DQ.  So the list didn’t change dramatically, we were  quite satisfied with Wendy’s except for Angel’s dislike of the bun and both of them yammering on and on about the drink robot.

There’s simply no reason for a drink dispenser to be that complicated and high-tech. Plus the fact that there was only one nozzle on it, it will create a bottleneck in the dining experience, as was perfectly obvious when a busload of young women pulled up as we were preparing to leave. A line formed at the drink robot, each lady had to figure out the menus and process. This is just what the robots want.

The Courthouse Grill

250 1st Street
Hillsboro, Mo.

 We've been waiting for quite a while for this place to open up. We pass by this spot several times a week as it sits right in the middle of town. Finally this past week Angel and Adam saw people actually dining there.

I looked them up online to find out about hours, meal choices, etc. Nada. 

No web site, no Facebook page, nothing. Some of the auto-populating directories had a phone number and street address, and nothing else, so Friday night I called and was told the hours were Tuesday through Saturday 10 A.M until 10 P.M. Good enough.

The Place:

As I said we’d been watching. Weeks, maybe even a couple of months of construction. This appeared to be a complete renovation off the old building just of the main drag, across from the courthouse. It has its own designated parking area, a necessity being that close to the county court. Downtown parking is, like every other county seat, tricky during weekdays.

We parked and stepped right in, passing by the patio and the half dozen or so patrons seated there. Though the temperature was pleasant enough, the skies were clouding up and the breeze was a little gusty. That and the fact that we don’t especially like eating outdoors made the decision to dine inside rather easy.

We stepped in, the place was much bigger on the inside than any of us expected. There was plenty of available seating in the longer than wide dining area.  We glanced around and saw no obvious hostess, no one coming toward us. From the back a young lady finally emerged and advised us to sit anywhere we liked.

We picked a spot near the front, by the window. It afforded a view of the entire place.

The young lady handed us menus and wrote down our drink order, Pepsi, Diet Pepsi and unsweetened tea. 

About three minutes later another lady stopped by and offered to take our drink orders. We told her that it had already been taken and she asked by whom. “A younger lady” was all I could come up with and that didn’t help much since there were three or more younger lady waitresses scattered about. She said she’d figure it out.

The drinks did arrive, all in St. Louis Rams beer glasses.

St. Louis has a professional football team called the Rams. I don’t hear much about it since A. I’m not into football, and B. The Rams belong in Los Angeles as God intended. I blame the Arizona Cardinals football team for this mess. St. Louis is very much a baseball town, overwhelmingly so. Football, eh, not so much.

The place looked new. The mostly undecorated walls were painted a curious shade of light green that I can only describe as ‘pickle juice’. The only things on those walls were four or five beer signs, all touting  Anheuser-Busch-Inbev products, don’t get me started on that crime. In the back, over the bar was a large TV tuned in to a baseball game. Also over the bar there was one more AB/Inbev related neon sign.

The carpet was industrial and unnoticeably brown on lighter brown. The tables and chairs were noticeable, new, dark wood and modern.

All in all it was fresh, clean and modern. Sparse maybe, but not barren-sparse, more Scandinavian sparse.

The Food.

The menus were also fresh, clean and uncluttered, Burgers, sandwiches, specialties, seafood and steaks. Classic American cuisine.

Some of the burgers and sandwiches had court-related names like The Defender, The Judge and The Prosecutor. Cute. I was tempted by the simple BLT but decided to forgo my intuition and appetite and to instead try what I assumed to be a signature dish, the Courthouse Burger. They offered two different kinds of fries, shoestring and steak. My preference is somewhere in between, but I asked for the shoestring.

Adam asked for the Defender, a hand-cut ribeye steak served on grilled Texas toast. He asked for the steak fries, I was glad, I wanted to compare them against mine.

Cheese, bacon, mushrooms and grilled onions are considered options here. At one dollar per. I added cheddar cheese to mine and the waitress worked to up-sell the onions or mushrooms. I told her I might want the onions but the dollar would come out of her tip. She grinned and shrugged her shoulders, "Fine with me” she said.

Angel asked for the Gulf Shrimp Scampi and two sides, a baked potato and vegetables. Today’s veggie was ‘a medley’ according to the waitress, it sounded like Veg-All to me.

I noticed that the waitress wrote none of this down. As I’ve said before, this is a neat trick if you can pull it off 100% of the time, error free. Otherwise its just a stupid, pointless trick that is more nuisance than impressive. I’ve never been annoyed by a waitress writing down details of an order. I have been annoyed, more often than not, when they get something this simple, wrong.

The Defender

But we’d wait and see. And wait we did. The place was busy, busier than I could figure out a reason for it to be that busy. Hillsboro has a population of only sixteen hundred or so, and this was certainly a local-centric place being located behind the courthouse. It was Saturday evening, no court, no county business at all, even the nearby county jail wasn’t doing a booming business (yet). The patrons seemed local-like, no suits, mostly jeans and boots. Several young cowboy types including two rather large groups. Tight jeans, snakeskin boots, camouflage ball caps, Skoal rings in the hip pockets. I was trying to figure out what the draw to a brand new place was until one of the cowboys answered his country-music ring-toned phone. After the initial hello’s he said “We’re up here in Hillsboro.”

That told me a lot. He and his gang were not locals at all, they were in from the southern, more rural parts of the county, thus the ’up here in Hillsboro.’ I suspected there might be an event at the fairgrounds or something like that.*

I watched, waited, Adam and Angel poked at their phones.

Our drinks needed refills before the food ever arrived. The wait wasn’t terrible but it was noticeable. The waitresses appeared to be in a rush, dashing about more with  hurry than efficiency.  Several other patrons arrived and were told to sit wherever they liked. This would be a problem later. I’ll explain when I get to the sermon portion of this review.

Gulf Shrimp Scampi

The food did arrive, and it looked good. Filled plates, sizzling meat, melting cheese. I had enough grilled onions to choke a unicorn, they were piled high on the burger and falling off the sides. There was a pale tomato slice, some slightly wilted lettuce and an entire slice of raw onion on the side  The fries were not exactly what I would call ‘shoestring’ but they looked toasty and crispy. Also on the plate was a large dill wedge. The bun was obviously not a grocery store generic bun. I appreciated the touch. Adam’s Texas toast looked very good, and Angel’s plate certainly seemed colorful. The waitress stepped away quickly and I noticed as I was photographing the plates, Adam’s first, he’s the most impatient about that sort of thing, that his fries were the same size as mine. The waitress had gotten the order wrong, so much for the ‘I can remember all this without writing it down’ party trick. Fail.

Adam wasn’t too concerned about it so we didn’t ask for a correction.

We dug in after the waitress returned with some ketchup and cocktail sauce. She asked if I’d like mustard. Duh. It’s a burger. “Yes Please.” is how it actually came out of my mouth.

The burger was quite good, cheesy, smoky, just enough char. The fries were nice, but it kind of seemed they were pulled from the bottom of the bag, more ends and short pieces than whole strips.

The Courthouse burger

Adam struggled with his ribeye, pulling globs of chewy fat out of it, one glob about half the size of the steak.

Angel handed me a shrimp, I tried it. It seemed a bit overcooked, rubbery, but the taste was dead-on scampi.

I asked her about the veggies. They looked kind of pale, limp and lifeless to me, almost . . . “Frozen” Angel said, interrupting my train of thought. Yeah, that was it, they looked frozen.

Don’t take this all the wrong way, as far as food goes it was all pretty good. Not great, but good enough to go back for and maybe try something else. They’ve got good recipes, the tastes were there, with a little fine tuning and fresher/better quality ingredients the problems can all be fixed easily enough. But then there’s. . .

The Service:

First off, this place is brand new. I always cut some slack for new places as it takes time for the staff to find its rhythm and timing. So my sermon here should not be taken as harsh criticism, but rather as constructive comments since I want this place to do well. Hillsboro needs a place just like this.

I mentioned earlier the ‘seat yourself’ policy. Epic fail. (we debated over the modifier ‘epic’ and I won with this one bit of observation:

An elderly couple came in and found a seat, not too far from the front door. I’d noticed them out of the corner of my eye for no real reason other than they were taking up space in the corner of my eye. Nicely dressed, quiet, peaceful folk, not at all like the cowboys and their halter-topped lady friends.  Several minutes later, maybe ten or fifteen, I noticed movement in that same eye corner. It was the old couple leaving. I noticed their table had no plates, glasses or even menus. They’d gone completely unnoticed by the wait staff. That’s an epic fail.  Lost business, lost positive word of mouth. Ouch. I’m as laissez faire as the next guy, but this free-range seating policy means customers will slip through the cracks. It is actually counter-productive and counter-profit. The solution is simple. Either assign a hostess to seat people so they get immediate welcome and attention, or failing that, assign a floor supervisor/expediter whose primary job it is to keep an eye peeled on the entire dining area to look for things like impatience, empty glasses, etc. This is how every other restaurant in the world handles front-of-the-house service.  Someone needs to keep an eye open, a designated person, not just the waitresses, they’re busy enough with their own table issues. Someone like, I don’t know, maybe the lady behind the bar that watched the couple leave. She noticed them as they left, I could tell.

This ‘seat yourself’ policy also meant lopsided service areas for the waitresses. Most people don’t really have a firm seating preference, they’ll go where you take them. This allows balance in the dining area, waitresses given grids, specific areas to serve on a balanced, level playing field.  This also explains the issue with twice being asked for our drink order, inefficiency, counter-productivity, disorganization. Not very professional. But so easily fixed. It’s a new place, when we go back in a couple of months we will be looking for this to have been resolved. Seat yourself works in a tiny, ten table diner, not in a full-floor dining area. Also, make the wait staff writes down orders, nobody minds this, but they do mind when their order gets screwed up.

Now the food. Like I said it was pretty good and the problems are easily enough resolved. Trim the excess fat off of steaks, even steak sandwiches. It was simply gross. “Not very satisfying” Is how Adam put it. And seriously guys, the vegetable of the day was frozen? Really? There ought to be a law.

Summary:

Once again this is a brand new place. The food was for the most part good, the selections were attractive and in theory all good ideas. This is not a greasy spoon nor fast food joint, it is expected that the food will be of better quality than those places. It is expected that the service as well will be better. All this place needs to do is fix these little problems and this could be upgraded to a very good place rather quickly.

The bill came to a respectable thirty six dollars and change, including the dollar for the two cents worth of grilled onions. Though not as expensive as some franchise sports bars, or even Munzert’s right up the road, this is about fifty percent more than a diner or fast food place. For this extra cost the service and food quality needs to make it seem worth it.

They’re off to a good start, you’ve got a great location and the city needs a place just like this, but it will not suffer bad service for very long.

___________________

*As it turned out there was a tractor pull at the fairgrounds. This explained the unexpected busyness of the restaurants, the traffic jam on main street, and the much greater than normal number of big, black-smoke-belching diesel pickup trucks in town. Yee- haw.