Chick Fil A

1 Arnold Mall
Arnold, Mo.
On the web


I don't recall the exact moment it happened, but Angel made this choice. It had to be that way, I'd never even think of it.
The elephant in the room.
Not because of that anti gay marriage thing or the being closed on Sunday thing though.
I'm not saying I support or even agree with the owner's position on gay marriage. That's a whole different matter. Positive change takes time, sometimes a lot of time.
No,  the reason I wouldn't ever have thought about Chick Fil A as a meal choice is that I really don't care for chicken sandwiches. Why? Two words: Breast meat. More on that later.

The Place:
During this past week Angel had another round of post-surgical checkups. She's still not able to comfortably drive for long distances, so I took part of the day off to escort her to the medical center in that vague region called 'South County' near Lemay Ferry Road. There may be a named town there, I don't know. St. Louis County has 90 municipalities and 10 unincorporated census designated places. As you travel up and down or back and forth through the county, you hop from one to the other, mostly seamlessly and unnoticed. I suppose if you are from one of those towns or places, you know them apart. I'm not from here though. I'm so not from here that people are very disappointed when I struggle to answer the first question everyone in the area asks each other when they first meet. "Where'd you go to high school?"  I think it's the basis for some sort of local caste system.
During our little trip, we knew we'd be able to grab a lunch while in the area. So a few days ahead of time Angel asked me if I liked Chick Fil A. I answered that I'd never been to one before and told her about the not caring for chicken sandwiches thing.
"They have other stuff." She answered. So I went online and hunted up a menu. They didn't really have other stuff, it was really just chicken as a wrap, in a salad and as nuggets.
Another problem. I have modified my weekday meal regimen to accept very light lunches, just enough to get me through to the next meal. Disrupting this pattern has proven gastronomically disruptive. She suggested the nuggets instead, but I had to also try the waffle fries.
So we headed up the road to Arnold, just this side of the Meramec river from South County. There may have been one in SoCo, but she knew the one in Arnold.
I'd seen these places before, just never been inside. It was apparent that a lot of other people knew about it, it was three quarters full when we stepped in. A real mix. A few lunching contractors, elderly couples and groups, and several moms with sticky, smelly and noisy preschool children. I got that, chicken nuggets are great kid-food.
The Food:
We stepped (actually I stepped, Angel hobbled) up to the counter and were properly greeted. Angel knew the order, so she took charge. I noticed the overhead menu listed the calorie count for each item. So did the kid's menu. You don't see that so prominently posted in other places. Good on them.
Angel ordered the 8 nugget combo, with waffle fries and lemonade for both of us. I'm not sure they even offered tea, nor do I think I would have asked for it anyhow. I've not had a lot of luck with fast food tea. Angel paid up and we found a table. We grabbed some napkins and ketchup on the way.
Pretty soon, our number was up, I fetched the food at the counter. A nice young lady had brought out our lemonades during the wait. Meanwhile, sticky, smelly and noisy preschoolers ran and squealed up and down the aisles. I tried to ignore them. I'm good at ignoring children, just ask my own kids, wherever they are.
It actually looked pretty good. These nuggets weren't the cookie-cutter processed version you find at most fast food places, this was actual, irregular chunks of chicken breast. The golden brown breading was not too thick. The waffle fries looked okay. I would rather they had fried a bit longer, they looked a little pale and not crispy.
The obvious question lies on the near horizon. "What kind of dipping sauces did you get?" I can almost hear you asking.
The thing is, that of all the tasty parts of a dead chicken, the thing that has been the focus, for a very long time, of selective breeding is the breast. That's where the largest part of a chicken is now, so the more one single bird has, the greater the meat-profit it becomes. The downside? It is virtually tasteless. A drumstick, wing or other darker meat parts have their own flavor. Breast meat does not. It's the tofu of the poultry world. If the whole breast is breaded and fried, there's never enough coating taste to carry through to the last several bites. Chicken nuggets, almost always breast meat, (because there's more of it and it is easier to harvest than dark meat) but there's just not enough flavor there to get all worked up over. So nuggets are pretty much always dipped into a sauce of some kind. The lady at the counter had asked which sauce we wanted and rattled of a list. I had her repeat it since I didn't catch anything after 'Ranch'. Not because I like Ranch, quite the opposite. I don't get ranch, on anything. It's almost like a universal sauce, added to everything, hot wings, potato chips, occasionally a salad. I don't hate Ranch, I just think there's too much of it.
The lady opened her litany with 'Chick Fil A sauce'. I asked her what that was. She struggled with a
coherent answer, Angel suggested it was like a barbecue sauce. I nodded, which in my culture signifies 'yes' or  'I agree' or 'I'm pretending to listen' depending on the context. Angel passed that on and also asked for Honey Mustard as a backup. She assumed, wrongly, that I like honey mustard. She so doesn't get me sometimes.
Back at the table we peeled open the sauce packets, not a minor task, neither was opening the  needlessly complicated ketchup packet (pour from this side or peel from the other side to dip.) Way too much effort went getting into these overthought packets. I read the sauce packet to verify the ingredients. It read like 'War and Peace' Sure enough it started with sugar, oil and 'bbq sauce'. After that was a list of spices that pretty much every spice I'd ever heard of. They dragged this bbq sauce through an entire spice rack.
For the first nugget, I went commando, no sauce. I wanted to taste the chicken itself so that you, my fickle fans, don't have to.
It was pretty good by itself. Not quite as pronounced as KFC, but similar in taste, pleasantly peppery.
The next nugget went into the Chick Fil A sauce. Yeah there was a bbq taste, but it had been dragged through an entire spice rack. Most noticeably, unfortunately was the mustard. You remember how I said earlier that I don't care for Honey Mustard? Yeah that's  it. My brain will only properly process the taste of mustard if it is thick, yellow and most often squeezed onto a hot dog or hamburger. I don't even care for Dijon, nope, just the cheap yellow stuff. I did accidentally dip a couple of nuggets into my ketchup, that was probably the best sauce at the table. Go with your own weird taste choices though, don't go by me on this.
The waffle fries were quite good, if not a little under-cooked. I would have liked them just a bit crispier, but I liked them enough to finish them.
Summary:
It served quite well as a 'light' lunch. Not too much food for a noontime sitting. The chicken was indeed far superior to those dubious sourced cookie-cutter nuggets at most places. Angel enjoyed hers quite well, but we knew that was the case going in. The place was clean, though busy, the staff was cheerful, friendly and competent. All in all, a pleasant experience. Except for all the children, I think Chick Fil A should not allow children. It would make for a much nicer meal for us hard working, tax-paying, non-sticky grownups.

Ginny's Kitchen & Custards

7022 Highway 61/67
Barnhart, Mo.
On Facebook

Why this place? This is why:

Yeah Sloppy Joes, at a restaurant. It sounded good. I've never had a Sloppy Joe anywhere but at home and back in grade school, the cafeteria would offer it up as 'Barbecue Beef on Bun'   It might have been a trademark thing.
According to the real world, user-contributed encyclopedia that very closely resembles Douglas Adams' "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy", Wikipedia:
"Marilyn Brown, Director of the Consumer Test Kitchen at H.K. Heinz in Pittsburgh says their research at the Carnegie Library suggests that the Sloppy Joe began in a Sioux City, Iowa, cafe as a "loose meat sandwich" in 1930, the creation of a cook named Joe."
Before that time 'Sloppy Joe' was what people called diners that served cheap, low grade food, quickly. You know, like McDonalds.
I wanted to try a Joe that someone, a professional, had made. Would it be just like the canned stuff I'm most familiar with?
The Place:

 On the main drag that runs North/South between I-55 and the river. The address says Barnhart, but there's a bunch of towns on that run, pretty much end to end, all the way from Festus to Arnold. So it's along there. Just drive until you see a big ice cream cone on a pole.
It has a walk-up window, convenient if you are that incredibly lazy, or if you want to dine outside with your pooch. They offer doggy treats as well. Inside it is bright and happy. A very wide menu is overhead, they offer much more than you would think an ice cream parlor would.
We'd had their burgers before, liked them pretty well. We stepped up to the counter and were greeted by a cheery young blonde girl. She wasn't wearing a name tag, which surprised me. I thought there was a state law or something that required minimum wage food service workers to wear name tags. I guess not. Her bright yellow t-shirt did say 'Ginny's' on it, so that might have been her name, I'm not sure.
As Adam and Angel read the overhead, I got Ginny's attention. "Do you serve Sloppy Joes?" I asked, with authority.
"Only on Tuesday." She answered.
"Only on Tuesday. The guy that makes them only works on Tuesday." She added.
This seemed odd to me. Not only did they serve Sloppy Joes, but they were made by a specialist. Obviously an artisan, probably very particular about his craft. Those must be some pretty special Sloppy Joes.
"You can get one on Tuesday." She assured me.
"That is not at all helpful." I scolded. I can't go there on Tuesday. I work during the week and don't get home in time. Barnhart is to the east and north of home, work is well to the north and slightly west. Too far to go after one has already gone so far. . .
So, no Sloppy Joe. Very disappointing.
But the burgers are good.
The Food:
Angel ordered first, a double combo with cheese, tomato, lettuce, onion, ketchup and mustard. That sounded pretty good, so I asked for the same thing. The combo comes with fries and a drink, Angel chose orange soda.....  I don't know why....   I asked for unsweetened tea.
Adam stepped up and asked about the Monster Chicken Sandwich, it seemed to satisfy his needs, so he went for that, with a Pepsi.
We slid into a booth near the front. I was still grumbling about the Sloppy Joe. "Why do they only have one guy that can make it?" Adam asked.
"Obviously he has specific, special skills." I rebuffed.
"He can open a can?"
Adam doesn't like Sloppy Joes, he would never understand.
We fiddled with our E-devices while we waited. I was pleased to notice that Ginny's had hassle-free WiFi.
They also had overhead music. Country Music. I then understood why there was a 'No Weapons Allowed' policy. I might have taken all those speakers out if I were armed. At least it wasn't very loud. It still sounded to me like a dozen cats with accordions jumping up and down on a trampoline though.
The place was neat as a pin, it always is. The ample staff took pretty good care of cleanup duties between orders. On the front wall were several trophies and a couple dozen framed certificates. Ginny's gets lots of awards.
It wasn't long before our number, 34, was called. Adam took the walk. What he brought back was exactly as expected. Thin rough spatu-mashed patties, the way I love 'em. Tomato, onion and lettuce portions were fresh, and right-sized. Why they put it all on the bottom, I'm not sure, but they did.
The fries were predictably thin and crispy. And not too salty. Adam said they weren't salty enough, but I'm right on this.
His sandwich, though the word 'monster' might be a stretch, was indeed substantial. Two breasts, not deconstructed and rebuilt like chicken nuggets. Real chicken breast. I always prefer full, all natural breasts to those that have been artificially enhanced, ask anyone, I'm always saying something to that effect. They don't have to be large, but they do have to be the real thing. I won't touch a nugget.
My only problem with breast in general  is that it they can be a bit dry. According to Adam, this may have been the case here. He said they were a little on the bland side. It's why I rarely have a chicken breast sandwich. They tend to be dry or bland.
Our burgers were perfect though. Simple, fresh, tasty.
Summary:
I like Ginny's very much. But Adam made a good point.  A couple of miles nearer or farther in any direction will get you just as good a burger. The Stoplight in Festus, 5-guys, Steak and Shake, all have as good burgers. But Ginny's is about more than burgers, recall, they do shakes and sundaes and ice-creamy things. I am sure they are quite exceptional. I just can't be the judge of that, a bit out of my field of expertise.
But the tea wasn't too bad.
I bet the Sloppy Joes are awesome as well. I may never know. I can't do Tuesdays.
The bill came to twenty-something, Angel forgot the receipt. It's so hard to find good help.
Adam was not impressed at all, that's why he brought up the other places with equally good burgers. Angel and I thoroughly enjoyed ours, and except for the abysmal soundtrack, and the lack of available Sloppy Joes, we thought very well of the place. For us, it is a bit of a long drive. But if you happen to be cruising down 61/67, go ahead, park it under the big ice cream cone, grab your mutt, and enjoy a perfectly satisfying meal.

_______________

You may have noticed that there wasn't a review last week. We were sick, summer colds. Sure, we ate, but everything tasted like phone book pages sauteed in zit-pus. We had burgers, but they may as well have been the Sunday paper for all we could tell. I thought at the time that we should go to White Castle, that taste would have been an improvement for that vile place.

Rich’s Frozen Custard & Diner

144 7th St
Hillsboro, MO 63050

My choice, we should have gone sooner being as it is one of the few eateries in Hillsboro. For most of that time I wasn’t aware of it at all, then, seeing the bold signage, assumed it was an ice cream joint. I only recently discovered that it was more. Much like Ginny’s from a few weeks ago, it serves frozen treats AND it makes burgers and sandwiches. 

It was a surprise to note that it was located on 7^th street, I wasn’t aware that Hillsboro had that many streets, I’m still not convinced. I could see it from highway 21 though, so it didn’t really matter which street it was actually on.

The Place:

We think it used to be a hardware store. The building has two levels, the lower of which houses an auto parts place. We entered the upper level, and found ourselves in a bright, clean, high ceilinged dining area. There was much more room than the dozen or so tables took up, and with the high ceiling made it feel a little odd, like those enormous handicap-accessible stalls in public restrooms. It was very echo-y. On the walls were canvases with patterned paintings, a style with which I wasn’t familiar. The walls were painted, a blue and orange sherbet theme. The tile floor was white and the place lit up pretty bright.

The tables and chairs were mostly wood, in two or more styles and shades. There was one larger table surrounded by low-end metal chairs.

All the extra space in the room took away any notion of coziness, it felt more like a church basement than an eatery.

A large menu hung on the wall, two actually. One listed the frozen treats, the other, the meal offerings.  Behind the counter stood various ice cream machines and dispensers, out of sight was the grill. We read over the offerings and stepped up to order.  I called mine out first as Angel, ahead of me at the counter, had stalled out and was apparently changing her mind.

The Food:

I asked for the bacon-cheddar double burger, with fries and tea. Behind the lady at the counter was a tall dispenser bearing the name ‘Luzianne’. I was optimistic about this place already. Angel finally sorted herself out and asked for the special, a cod sandwich with fries and a Diet Coke. Adam chose the crispy chicken sandwich, fries, and a Coke. Our drinks were served in Styrofoam cups, I took this to mean that Rich’s was not a friend of the planet.

We took seats among the half dozen or so other patrons. Angel and Adam pulled out their cell phones. Angel was banking or checking emails and Adam was playing some sort of game. I took out my phone and slid my finger across the screen a few times, Adam told me to stop it.

You see I don’t have a touch screen on my phone, or any entertainment apps, or a data plan, it’s a telephone. I can and do take lousy pictures with it, but I’m not interested or heavily invested in mobile technology. I don’t even like talking on a phone.

The wait for the food was a bit longer than seemed necessary, though I didn’t actually time it. The tea was quite good though.

They finally brought it out, everything served in plastic baskets. The fries were crinkle-style, more points for that. There was no lettuce, tomato or onion on my burger, just the meat and melted cheese. I couldn’t recall if LTO were even an option. Standard mustard and ketchup bottles were already on the table. I shook up the mustard to avoid the musquirt. (That clear-ish liquid that comes out ahead of the mustard from a squeeze bottle. ‘Musquirt’ is an official sniglet.)  I did the same with the ketchup, even though there is no name for that.

The burger was rough edged, like at Ginny’s, indicative of having once been in a ball then flattened on the grill with a spatula. Angel’s cod turned out to be a standard-issue fish patty, square and slightly smaller than the bun. She assembled everything and finally bit in, I was getting anxious to deliver the comedy I’d been working on.

She seemed satisfied, so I asked her how it was. “Pretty good.” She said. I was ready, I made sure Adam was listening as well. In family comedy, timing is everything.

“So, can I have a taste of your cod-piece?” I delivered in a professional deadpan. Adam choked a snicker, she just looked at me like she does when she thinks I’ve said something hilarious and clever, though it’s the same look she gives me when I gravely disappoint her.

The fries were good, the burger was too, but a little on the dry side. A tomato slice would have made it better.

The buns became a matter of discussion. They were more dense and heavier than store-bought generic buns, I didn’t mind it at all but Angel wasn’t real happy about it. Part of the problem being that the bun was bigger than the fish. She even went so far as to blaspheme: “I prefer McDonalds’ fish sandwich.”

As for Adam’s Chicken: “It was good.”  I didn’t have a crowbar handy to pry out more detail, so that’s all he offered about the meal.

It didn’t take long to eat everything, at least for Angel and Adam. They were not encumbered with the task of taking notes, pictures and creating top-notch comedy on the fly. The meals were not heavy, so I knew they would be getting ice cream.

At least Angel did, Adam wasn’t in the mood.

She ordered a 'JL Werner'. Vanilla Ice cream, a banana, chocolate syrup and whipped cream. I asked her to find out who ‘J.L. Werner' was.  She was reluctant at first, she doesn’t like striking up casual conversations with strangers any more than I do. I heard her ask though, hard to miss since the acoustics of the place are like those of an empty gymnasium. The lady behind the counter said she had no idea. Poor staff training. For all I know, J.L. Werner is a serial thug of some kind. I wouldn’t want to eat something named after a creep or felon.

She ate her treat out of the Styrofoam, earth-hating bowl, and seemed to enjoy it, even though the inevitable desperate chill set in about halfway through.  Angel's a bit of a reptile when it comes to body temperature regulation..

Summary:

Well, it was okay. It certainly wasn’t bad. It was however, a bit lacking. The ambiance was off, as I’ve mentioned. That big, wide, near-empty space made it a bit uninviting and public. The food was okay, but lacked zing. The buns were perhaps a bit too heavy, at least for the small fish portion, and the burger was on the dry side. The bill came to twenty five and change  and a couple bucks more for the ice cream, comparable to Ginny’s.

A couple of things will make me go back though. Primarily location, location, location. That and fact that Rich’s offers free Wi-Fi. That means if on a Saturday I need to download something large, I can just pop in there, eat me a burger and have some tea without having to go to Festus, or the McDonalds in Hillsboro.  At home, our internet comes from outer space via satellite technology and is limited to a puny amount of megabytes per day with a significant penalty for going over that limit. So occasionally, for software updates and actual interesting media downloads, I usually take my netbook to a library. Libraries don’t serve burgers, even slightly dry ones, or Luzianne tea.

I like everything at Ginny’s better, but it’s about fifteen more miles or so up the road, and I’m not even sure Ginny has Wi-Fi.

Afterward we drove over to the NEW Dollar General location. The biggest department store in Hillsboro just got bigger. We stopped in an bought some snacks and a small Christmas tree. One of those new-fangled ones that already has lights on it. Angel wouldn't let me buy a karaoke machine though.