Trattoria Giuseppe

5442 Old Missouri 21
Imperial, MO 63052

On the web


Happy Birthday Angel!
Well, actually the day after her birthday. . . just the way we do things.
Obviously, she chose the destination, hardly a surprise. In the many years of doing this silly effort, reviewing local eateries, TG has always been our #1 favorite.
It's a little high end, a little pricey, but worth every penny whenever you can budget for it.
The Place:
A bizarre location really,very much out of the way. Old Highway 21 is completely bypassed by

'new' highway 21. New 21 is four lanes, no stops, more like a 20 mile stretch of interstate than a highway.
Old 21 is where things used to be. It is rural, rustic, more Route 66 than anything else. Near Highway M, also a wide and clear beauty, TG sits in a rural, somewhat industrial area. It shares a building, an old fashioned strip mall, with a bar and an auto parts store and not far from a salvage yard and concrete business.
From the outside, no pretense or prettying up. Inside, the charm of the old building has been tidied up, but not covered over. Striped wallpaper, nice colors and textures, wood tables and chairs, modest table cloths and place settings. A little art on the walls, subtle lighting. Nice, but not presumptuous or fancy. The dress code is also casual, however, men's shirts must have sleeves. I was good in a polo, clean jeans and sneakers, the group nearby chose what I can only describe as church clothes, if that's still a thing. Slacks, button down shirts (with sleeves) and the ladies in slacks or dresses. TG is a place that accommodates both.
The Food:
Minta stopped by with menus, more on her name later. A fresh, smiling young lady. We ordered drinks, Angel made it complicated. "Do you have sweet tea?" Minta apologized and said no. "Okay, I'll have tea, but with only very little ice."
"Okay." Minta answered and scribbled on her pad. Adam and I looked over at Angel. "I'm cold." was all the explanation she felt necessary to offer.
I looked up at Minta. "I'll have tea, but I'm not nearly as demanding."
Adam ordered a pop. Angel piped in before the server could walk away. "Could we have the ravioli appetizer too please?"
Of course she could.
On the table was a fresh basket of bread. Nearby there was a cruet of olive oil. In front of each of us was a small saucer.
Here's the way do handle that stuff. Sprinkle some oil into the saucer and toss on a dash of pepper, Tear off a bite of bread and dip. Mmmm, luscious.

Before long the drinks were served. TG is among the few places we've been to that actually seems to care that the tea is as fresh and proper as the rest of the meal. Sure enough, it was bright and fresh.
By then we were ready to order. Angel decided on the meal she'd been thinking about for a couple of days, Tutto Mare, a seafood/pasta dish that she gets nearly every time we dine at TG's.
I went out on a limb and ordered the day's special, a seafood stuffed filet. Adam chose a repeat as well, the Pepper Loin Filet. We all asked for the salad, because the house salad at TG is a work of art.
The ravioli was served, light and crispy, the sauce, impeccable. We happily munched away on the St. Louis favorite appetizer, before long the salads arrived.

The house salad has lettuce, of course, but it also contains a few cherry tomatoes, red onion, some 'authentic' olives, note those bright green, pimento stuffed things you get in a jar at the store. Also, a pepper and always, a bit of artichoke heart. The vinaigrette is slightly sweet, but definitely Mediterranean. Slivers of white cheese top it off.  This is about as good as it gets for Mediterranean salad in the area. Since we've been coming here, the salad does not change, the same attention to detail every time.
It was early in the day so the place was not yet crowded. This meant that the kitchen would not be rushed taking care of our order. It also meant we didn't need a reservation, though if you're planning a visit, it would be smart to go ahead and make one.
In not too long the food arrived on a big tray. My eyes popped wide when I saw my steak. It was a thing of sheer beauty. A perfectly cooked steak, split open and stuffed with what I can best describe as crab cake. Surf and turf turned up to eleven.

There was also a baked potato wrapped in foil. That was an afterthought really. I'd already carbed up on bread and ravioli, but from the list of 'sides' it seemed the most appealing. I wouldn't eat it all.
I sliced into the steak, it carved like butter. The light, buttery sauce around the meat was a beautiful compliment.  Steak is hard to get right. I've never considered myself very good at cooking steak. I do know this though, it all starts and ends with the cut and quality of the meat. Even exactly correct done-ness cannot fix an inferior cut. Giuseppe always gets this right though.
The first bite was simply amazing. It snapped me out of the anxious fog I'd been in most of the day. The cut, perfect, the cooking, perfect, the addition of crab-cakey filling? Oh man, it does not get better.
Adam launched into his steak with vigor, it didn't last long. Angel plucked out and dissected the clams and snails and whatever else they put into that plate. I'm not a clam or oyster guy and can't be bothered with the difference between them or the varieties within. Angel likes the stuff, though so that's okay. She did have some of the pasta, but mostly it was hunt and pick.
I delighted in every bite, I hope they offer it again.
Summary:
As always, a wonderful experience. Minta was up to her tasks. Oh yeah, I asked her about her name as it seemed a bit unusual. When I asked she took on a look that indicated that I was not the first person to ask her. She explained though, it was not short for something or part of a longer name. Minta, that's it. "It's made up, it doesn't mean anything."
I thought that was just fine.
The food, you may have gathered was splendid, awesome, I'm running out of superlatives here. We all enjoy  it, everything we've tried. Giuseppe runs a good ship as well. The staff is always professional and attentive, the attention to detail and service are always superb.
The price? Well, it's certainly not discount food. This is not a place many of us can afford to frequent. That in our case is also what makes it special. It's not that much more than a similar meal at Ruby Tuesday's or the other places like that. Those other places end up costing about $22 each, TG, more like $28.
It's not a question of will we go back or can we recommend. Of course we will and do. It's actually stronger than that. I'm willing to shout it to the masses. Try this place!

Poppy's Ristorante

2000 N. Truman Blvd.
Festus, Mo.
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Somehow, it seems we end up at Poppy's in the winter. Not by any master plan, mind you. We here  at Eat and Critique World Headquarters have never had a master plan, or even a minor plan.
But Poppy's makes me think of the holiday season.
Maybe it's the heavy oak decor that frames garlands perfectly.
The Place:

It is a beautiful restaurant. Oak floors, thick, carved oak booths and bar, stained glass and Tiffany lamps, tasteful, soft framed artwork, modest chandeliers.
You really do forget that you are next door to a bowling alley.
It has a very upscale feel to it. The secret though is that price-wise it is very reasonable.
We entered and saw that it was busy. A group of tables had been lined up to accommodate a party of fourteen senior citizens. They were nicely dressed, most wore bright red sweaters which looked very jolly alongside the quaffed silver hair of the ladies.
We were led to a nearby booth at the front, near the bar. The scurrying staff were sharply dressed in all black.
Lindsay was to be our server. Yes, I am spelling that correctly, she insisted when she saw me writing it down.
She offered drinks, we responded with tea, tea and Pepsi. She handed us menus. I'd looked it over earlier in the day online, Angel and Adam had not. We had all agreed to try something other the the usual thing we got there. I usually get the cannelloni. I was really going to mix it up this visit.
Our tea and a basket of rolls arrived. I noticed the tea, it looked, perfect, so I sipped it. It was. One big point for Poppy's and we hadn't even ordered yet
Overhead a familiar tune played just over the din of the party of 14. "Pachelbel?" Angel asked. "Yes." I proudly answered. I didn't add that Pachelbel was merely the composer's name and that the name of the tune was, casually, Canon in D Major, formally, Canon and Gigue for 3 violins and basso continuo, and in original German, Kanon und Gigue für 3 Violinen mit Generalba. Knowing things like this are not license to actually mention them in casual conversation, some people think that sort of thing is snooty. I first heard it and fell in love with it back in the early 80's after Carl Sagan used it and several other lesser know classical pieces in his landmark series 'Cosmos'. That now used-to-death-at-weddings song was followed up by a series of classic Christmas songs. Normally when shrouded by a marathon of these songs I tense up and start swearing. Not that I have anything in particular against most of the songs individually, it's the month long deluge of them that raises my hackles. Fortunately it wasn't very loud, so I managed to tune it out for the most part by eavesdropping on the party of fourteen. I didn't learn much from them. It turns out they weren't really very interesting people.

The Food:
We had the usual appetizer, toasted ravioli. Poppy's version is pretty good, crispy, meaty, with a chunky marinara. They came with an overabundant amount of the sauce. This would be an ominous portent of things to come. . .
The rolls were simply excellent. Nothing fancy, just a basic dinner roll, but warm and tender. The basket they came in also had some condiment packets of both butter and 'spread'.
We ordered.
Me: Spaghetti and Meatballs, and a 'Combination Salad' with the house dressing. Yes, spaghetti. I rarely order spaghetti at Italian restaurants, but it is the standard that all Italian eateries should be able to master. I had a mediocre spaghetti plate at the recently opened and reviewed Pasta House, and I skewered them for only having a mediocre version. I can make spaghetti, it's my go to Sunday dinner at home. I make it better than mediocre and can expect no less from an Italian Restaurant.
Angel:Tortellini Alla Panna (Tortellini with Cream) and a shrimp salad. Lindsay replied by saying they didn't have a shrimp salad. "No, no I meant spinach, not shrimp." She laughed at herself. Angel laughs at herself fairly often. It's part of her charm, she never ceases to amuse herself. I sometimes wish I could pleasure myself so completely. I tend to self abuse a lot.
Adam: One of the 'Specialty' pastas, Lemon Basil Rigatoni and a Caesar side salad.

Lindsay trotted off. I started taking notes and when it came to their orders I asked Angel which salad  she had asked for. Predictably she again said 'shrimp'. We laughed and laughed.
Meanwhile I noticed that of the six occupied tables I could see, our server seemed to be responsible for two, ours and the party of fourteen. Not a great plan. Large parties like that, and even more so by parties of successful senior citizens, are rather high maintenance. I first noticed this a few months back at an Olive Garden in Paducah, Ky. Our server there was worn out and frequently out of sight taking care of a large table full. Though we sympathized, we also find it a weak excuse. Surely these places know how much work a large party is, surely they should free up the server(s) of those tables from also having to take care of an additional, less demanding couple or trio.
Lindsay handled it well though. More on that later.
The salads came on small plates. The greens on mine were fresh, though the little tomatoes looked a day or two past prime. When I tried to cut the rough torn lettuce, quite a bit fell off the saucer. There was not enough saucer for the pile of salad in front of me. I could barely move the stuff around

without losing some overboard. The salad was very good, especially the sweet house dressing. The portion was too large though, for the plate and the meal.
Angel's was prettier than mine. Piled high shrimp . . . just kidding, spinach, sliced mushrooms and egg, crumbled bacon and large croutons. Hers too was more than ample. Too big really, for a 'side' salad, and falling off the plate. Adam started his by picking the mushrooms off his Caesar. He hadn't noticed the ingredient when he ordered it. Who puts mushrooms on a Caesar salad? He didn't have much of it, he said the dressing tasted a bit different from what he was accustomed to.
None of us finished our salads, we started them cautiously since pasta is very, very filling and we'd all ordered pasta as a main course. When we go to Ruby Tuesday's which has the best salad bar in the world, we order small meals since we know we are going to mega-load at the salad bar. As I said, mine was quite good, just too much.
The main courses arrived in a timely manner. The plates were more like serving bowls than dinner

Lemon Basil Rigatoni

plates. Mine had three or four large meatballs and was generously coated with a red meat sauce with noticeable tomato pulp. I like it like that. I cut open one of the meatballs and tried it first. Excellent, a blend of meats, definitely pork and probably some beef. The menu didn't describe it, so I'm going by what my highly skilled mouth tells me. The sauce tasted very good. Maybe not the best I've had, but certainly better than the generic, short-cut-laden stuff Pasta House served up.
Adam ate his with a puzzled look on his face. "For Lemon Basil pasta, I taste neither lemon nor basil." He reported. Mostly he tasted the white wine and olive oil.
Angel dived into hers. She didn't say anything about it for a while. We all noted that there was way more on our plates than we'd ever finish. When she did say something it was not especially positive. "Sort of dry in the middle, maybe it's the cheese."
I was full. I looked down at my plate and it looked like I hadn't even started. I felt embarrassed that I ate so relatively little of it. I just couldn't eat anymore though. I shoved it around to try to make it look like I'd had more than I did, like I did as a kid when given something I didn't like. The effort was futile though. I dug around into the vast depths of the bowl and realized I was served more spaghetti than I usually make for an entire family meal and even then there's some left over.
Summary:
Well, I guess you can see where this is going.
We in flyover country are often stereotyped, and not completely inaccurately, as being among other things, fat. Our meals typically consist of laboring family fare, meat, potatoes, bread, gravy. Big portions of everything, the starchier the better. The problem is that not very many of us get up in the morning and work the fields for fourteen hours per day any more. We were a little slow in adapting our meals to fit a far less active life style. But here's the news. We get it. We may have been a bit late to the party, but in droves we're noticing what we're putting into ourselves. More important than what, is how much of what.
Just ask the burger chains. Even the king of those beasts, McDonald's, is starting to struggle with

Finish point

declining numbers. They're rushing to adapt menus to a new paradigm. People are just no longer slavishly stuffing themselves with the calorie bombs that served them so well for decades. People are eating there less. Big Mc is actually considering offering fresher, healthier food. This time they may actually mean it.
My thoughts on this are not limited or unique to Poppy's, at all. As far as taste goes, they were better than most. But the serving size was simply staggering. I asked around, my sources close to the local industry tell me that Poppy's keeps a LOT of takeaway boxes on hand. That itself should tell them something.
When I opened up the box for my late lunch/early dinner on Sunday, I heated up my typical amount for a home spaghetti meal. There was still more than half of the original serving left in the box.
Isn't too much food a good thing?
No. I found it embarrassing, intimidating and more importantly, wasteful. Prepared pasta dishes don't keep or reheat well at home. Chances are very good that more than half of what we ordered will be thrown away.
There's just no need for that. Sure it's pretty cheap to make, but I would have been satisfied to pay the same amount for one third to one fourth the serving size.
Enough of that for now.
The tab was very, very reasonable, especially if you compare it to the tonnage of food. Even if appropriately sized, the price would have been decent, Sixty three bucks for three entrees, side salads, drinks and an appetizer. Also, we had a $5 coupon thanks to being on their mailing list.
Lindsay did an amazing job, especially considering she was being throttled by that party of 14 boring people.
The comments I made about the food we did get should be filtered against an earlier comment. We all deliberately ordered things we'd not had there before. My spag was fine, but I like my usual, the  cannelloni better, etc. So this was partially a matter of us being bold and experimental.
Poppy's is very nice and quite good. A little better floor management and some adjusting of portion sizes would do them well. Please, offer different sizes of the pasta dishes. Some of us are actually trying to tone it down some. Let those that want a full box of pasta for themselves pay a higher price for the privilege. Nine bucks for a standard sized plate of tasty pasta is about right. A serving platter that could feed four should cost more.  More is not better.
Other than that, Poppy's is a fine place to go, above average in quality. It makes Pasta House look like Fazolis. Well, maybe not that bad.



*Monday. Sure enough the three boxes, still weighing several pounds cumulatively, are now in the dumpster. Angel tried reheating some, but it stuck together, as things like that (flour+water=paste) are apt to do. I'd scraped all the meat sauce out of mine to coat the one reheat I did yesterday, Adam wasn't real happy with the recipe on his to begin with. Bigger just does not equal better, sometimes super sizing is compensation for lack of quality.

Pasta House

1806 Galemore St.
Festus, Mo.
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This one is complicated. Very complicated.
Pasta House is a regional chain, headquartered in St. Louis. Founded in 1974 it now has around twenty locations, most in the Metro St. Louis region. Some of the locations are owned by PH, others are independently owned franchises.
We were excited to find out they were building one in Festus. More excited that the location was on Highway A, before you actually get to Festus. During our frequent trips to the town, we watched the progress. It went pretty slow, about a year or more in construction.
Finally, Angel noticed the 'Now Open' sign flashing. So as far as deciding where to go, this was an easy week.
I'd looked at the online menu ahead of time, so I was properly prepared. We invited the boys, Adam and his friend that I call Larry.
I was a bit groggy after a very heavy nap. I'd been up at 2 A.M. for a couple of hours tending to a regular work thing, system checks. Angel and the boys made fun of me because when I'm in this state I tend to incomprehensibly mumble.
The Place:
It was dark, early for dinner service, around 5 P.M. The parking lot was nearly full. This was their first weekend being open, I supposed we weren't the only anxious ones.
We could have gone to any of the other locations, we just never had. Angel had looked at the online menu as well and was relieved to find out that it was not fast-foody. She was worried that it would be like Fazoli's, that place is simply awful.
The building was brand new, it still had that new Italian Restaurant smell to it. As we went in we saw the line. Angel asked, they said it would only be about a five minute wait. The front section is a well appointed bar with about a dozen high bistro tables and chairs. People were not only drinking at the tables but also having their meals.
Sure enough we only waited a little more than five minutes before we were called. I'd spent the time sizing up the crew. The manager was easy, better dressed than the floor crew, black shirts and jeans for them. Among the mostly young ladies a couple appeared to be go-to people that the others paid heed to. I like to know who's in charge.
We were led to a four-top barely inside the dining area. Sure enough the place was packed, the din was almost rowdy sports bar-like. Lots of families, lots of very young kids in high chairs. One of the tots was banging a spoon on the tray, something that got very old and annoying very fast.
Directly overhead was a stock ceiling speaker belting out big band music, Moonlight Serenade at the time and a very bad rendition of it. Either the recording or the sound system was murdering it with clicks and pops and squashed bars, those that know audio would call it overdrive distortion. It was  made worse by the fact that the volume was up too high for dining anyhow. Along with the loud diners, the music made me uncomfortable, I don't like loud places.
I was reminded that PH was to get certain breaks in the review. This was a new crew, a new restaurant and it was their first weekend open. So any griping I make about the service are only for comparison at a later date.
One thing we did notice to their credit was how quickly they turned tables. It explained the short wait. The last crumbs had barely hit the floor before the table was being bussed.
Another lady came by and handed us menus and asked about drinks. Tea, Sweet tea and two Cokes. A bit later she brought them and we ordered an appetizer, toasted ravioli because St. Louis.
It didn't take long to decide, I knew going in what I was getting.
The Food:
Me: Spaghetti Bolognese, small, no salad.
Angel: Tutto Mare
Adam: Volcano (Hot wing and ranch) Pizza
Larry: Bacon Cheddar Burger and fries.
For those not as smart about Italian dishes as we experts are, I'll translate. Bolognese is not baloney and mayonnaise, it is a meaty tomato sauce.  When I make spaghetti at home, which I do fairly often, this is what I make. At home, we just call it 'spaghetti'.
Tutto Mare is not horse meat, it is actually seafood over pasta. Tutto mare means roughly, 'all sea'. Clams, shrimp, scallops, that sort of thing. It's usually in a creamy sauce.
If I have to explain burgers and pizza to you then you should just leave my beloved country, right now.

The ravioli arrived in a long white plate. alongside was a think, almost chunky marinara for dipping. Angel had ordered the twelve-piece so there was plenty for everyone. I pulled two off the plate, dipped them each twice at right angles, and dropped them onto the little appetizer plate we'd been given.
They were not as crispy as I thought they would be. I expected a crunch, but it never came. The taste was very good, the pasta seemed fresh, but for me it seemed a bit rubbery. No one else complained, in fact they sort of dismissed my assessment altogether. So maybe it was just me.
We finished them up fairly quickly, then the real wait began. A new place, new crew, new kitchen I would have been completely surprised if there had not been a longer than 'normal' wait. Fortunately we had devices and the PH guest WiFi was quick and strong.

As we browsed, I took time to look around at the decor. Mostly photos and a  lot of huge movie posters, mostly in Italian or for spaghetti westerns from the 60's and 70's. One photo confused me, it was of Marlon Brando. I was never a really big fan but I do know that Brando is not Italian. He was born in Nebraska and his ancestry was all German, Dutch, etc. Like I said, I was not a big fan of the big man, but the only thing I could think of is that he might have been in a movie in or about Italy. . .  I'll have to look it up sometime.
The floors were enormous earth-tone tiles, the walls were painted a glossy dark yellow, the tables and chairs were black. It was properly lit, not too bright, not too dim. More than anything though it was loud.
There seemed to be ample staff, all running around bouncing from table to table. Another man stepped out of the kitchen and stood watch, a definite authority figure as well. He and the other man I'd pegged as a manager held several discussions, but mostly they scanned the dining area like hawks on a post.
Several minutes passed, and by several, I mean about forty five, from the time we were handed menus until

the entrees arrived. Just before the entrees showed up the new manager guy spotted me looking around and rushed over, apologized for the wait and ordered someone to go grab us some rolls.
We were served a saucer full of assorted, condiment style butter containers. then a lady came along behind us with a basket full of rolls and tonged two apiece into our appetizer plates. They were warm, almost hot and smelled heavenly, like fresh baked bread should. I cracked open one of them, the crust was pleasantly crispy, and scraped the entire contents of a butter tub into each one. Mmmm, melty butter. They were tasty, but our enjoyment was short lived as a solo act as the main course finally came.
My spaghetti and Angel's seafood pasta looked correct. After just a moment though I saw it, very disappointed. When I scooped some of the pasta toward the middle of the dish, a watery puddle formed. This wasn't because the sauce itself was watery, it was because the pasta had not been thoroughly drained before plating. I was able to stir it all around and it mixed in a little better, but it weakened the sauce.

Not that it could stand much weakening. The pasta was cooked correctly, well maybe a little overdone, and the sauce tasted just fine. . . which for me is not a compliment. As I said earlier, I make spaghetti quite often. I know a good sauce and I know a really good sauce. This was cafeteria sauce. Perfectly adequate for a modest meal, but hardly up to the depth of flavor and texture you'll find at a hundred other local Italian places. It was  red sauce and ground meat. I could detect no peppers, celery, garlic, onions etc.
This was really disappointing compared to the quite-nice marinara dipping sauce we'd had earlier, that had been almost salsa-thick. This sauce was really not any better than some of the better canned sauces at a grocery store. Not that there's anything wrong with canned sauce, I use it myself, as a starter. I always add peppers, onions, garlic, celery, etc. But when you go out to eat, especially at a place called 'Pasta House' you expect something a little better, richer, deeper. . . is that asking too much?
Angel was quite happy with her tutto mare. She especially liked the fact that the clams were not in the shell. It makes a pettier plate with clams in-shell, but it is sort of a hassle to de-shell them. There was plenty of shrimp as well, and as she does with this dish she fished all the meaty bits out without eating more than half the pasta.
That's completely normal. Neither of us ever finish our pasta. Even though mine was a 'small' I knew I couldn't hold that much heavy, starchy stuff, especially after the excellent rolls. At home I serve twice as much sauce as I got at PH and half as much noodles. I had the same problem with ratio at an Olive Garden a few weeks back the taste was okay, but the pasta to sauce proportions were just not in-whack.

I asked the boys about theirs. Larry was guarded, though he finally confessed that he wasn't very impressed with the burger. A bit bland. He didn't care very much for the fries either, though he stopped short of saying he didn't like them.
Adam had a few slices of his odd looking pizza, thin, paper thin crust,
chunks of hot wings and a pale beige sauce, Ranch Dressing, I believe. He really didn't care for the celery chunks on it. He said he got it, that hot wings are often served with a side of celery sticks and Ranch dipping sauce, but he said the celery taste overwhelmed his taste buds. He plucked the chunks off, said he wished they, like with wings, had been served on the side instead of cooked in with the pizza. other than that he said it was pretty good, but would not compare it to other places.
We argued a while about whether or not celery had a strong taste, when I cook I almost always cook with celery and have always thought of it as subtle. We finally decided that Adam just has weird taste buds.
Summary:
I said at the beginning that this was complicated. You see, I want places to succeed, I want a new place to be good. I'd heard good things about PH, but was not prepared for it being as lackluster as it turned out to be. It wasn't that anything was bad, there just wasn't anything there that I cannot get better versions of in other places. For Angel, it was the ambiance. I agree with that as a problem. It's too noisy, it lacks that cozy, candlelit, rough around the edges atmosphere you find at the many trattorias in the area. Sure, it cost a little less, more on par with Olive Garden, (around $16 per head plus the appetizer) maybe less, but was it worth it? I'll pay a premium for a good steak I'm not good at cooking them myself, so I don't mind. This spaghetti though was just no better than Angel and I make at home. It's not like spaghetti is hard to make.
As for all the waiting . . .  did I mention that I had to flag down the manager guy to get the check? I get that, it's a new place. I was a bit annoyed that I didn't catch our servers names primarily because no less than half a dozen different people served us, the bread lady, the tea lady and the two Coke ladies . . . I didn't tip very high, at all, because I didn't know who or what I was tipping. Yes, I completely ignored the 'suggested gratuity' list at the bottom of the check.
We will, of course, go back in a few weeks or months to see if the place runs a bit smoother. I don't know if I can count on the food being much better, I'll certainly have to try something else, probably the cannelloni, certainly not a burger. . .
The place is brand new, so it gets a pass for now. .  .

Lorenzo's

106 Main St.
Desoto, Mo.
On the web
Facebook

A few days ago on a certain social media site, someone in one of the county groups I follow, said they were moving to Desoto and wanted to know about restaurants there that other members could recommend. Lorenzo's jumped into my head immediately, but when I was about to comment, I noticed that several other people already had, more so than any other place.
There are some fine eateries in and around Desoto, but it was this place that I thought of first.
Coincidentally, when Angel came up with a list of two or three places for this outing, I chose Lorenzo's.
The Place:
It sits on Main street, across form the tracks. On the other side of the tracks, sure enough, property values drop.
Main street is old style, mid 20th century, small town brick store fronts. It even still has an old-school movie theater.
Lorenzo's sits adjacent to a vacant spot, where they've set up a patio. They're known to frequently get a projector and show ballgames on the wall of the next building.
It was a nice, some would say perfect, evening for sitting outside, but we didn't. We went in and were led to a booth pretty close to the last booth we sat at.
Charlotte brought us some menus and asked about drinks. Lorenzo's serves many, many beers and wines, so we got unsweet tea, sweet tea and Coke.
I like wine. I'm okay with beer. My problem with beer is that it is too filling to have with a meal. My problem with wine is snobs. If I had wine with my meal I'd have to rate it, and that is very hard to do without it coming to fisticuffs between myself, a simple man with simple tastes, and the snobs. They're a violent bunch and not as dainty as you might imagine.

The Food:
"I don't think I want pizza." Angel had declared. I kind of did. They serve a little nine incher at a very
reasonable price, $6.35 with up to six toppings. That's a lot of toppings. And they have some good ones. The standards, of course, but they also have 'gourmet toppings' including, from their website:
Anchovies, Artichoke Hearts, Basil Pesto, Capicolla Ham, Fresh Mozzarella, Fresh Spinach, Goat Cheese crumbles, Gorgonzola Cheese, Grilled Chicken, Meatball, Minced Garlic, Prosciutto di Parma, Ricotta Cheese, Shrimp, Volpi Salami.
Yeah. . . I know.
They also have a selection of sauces and cheeses.
I designed my own.
Traditional sauce, traditional cheese, topped with onions, bell pepper, Italian sausage, bacon, pepperoni and to spice it up a bit, pickled banana peppers.
Adam bought one off the rack, the so-named 'Sicilian', traditional sauce, mozzarella cheese, Italian sausage, pepperoni, Capicolla Ham and fresh basil.
Angel changed her mind. Her pizza was embarrassing. Garlic butter sauce, St. Louis style (Provel) cheese, black olives, mushrooms, sausage, onions, grilled chicken. To me, this didn't sound like pizza at all. Even less so when she informed us that she almost added artichokes. Seriously, artichoke. . . on a pizza. . . embarrassing.
Of course, the forgone conclusion, for an appetizer we were unanimous in wanting the deep fried cannelloni.
We get this every time. It's Lorenzo's one up of the traditional and generic (in the St. Louis area) fried ravioli. It's better, much better. The appetizer cost more than any of our pizzas, but it was gone in a couple of  minutes. They make their own. . . everything, sauces, sausages, everything there. The blend of meat in these bites is, as I've put it before, buttery in texture and smokey and savory, but not spicy, in taste.
Angel thought they'd been cooked too long, too crispy, Adam and I disagreed, as there is no such thing as too crispy. The signature, house made marinara sauce coated the crispy, buttery bits with a fresh sweetness that you cannot get out of a can.
We waited patiently for the pizzas, they are built to order and should not be rushed. We had our e-devices so we were entertained without actually having to hold conversations with each other. Lorenzo's has wifi, but you have to have the password. I asked for it and was told it was the zip code, which I didn't know, but I do now. So we sat there and privately swiped and tapped. The big-band, Italian-ish crooners filled the room with ambiance. Frank Sinatra, Peggy Lee, Dean Martin, etc.
The pies arrived. None of us has ever been able to eat the whole thing in one sitting, but that's a plus. Two words, 'breakfast pizza'. 
Mine was, by far, the prettiest pie. The bright yellow banana peppers, the green bells, the sauce and the cheese was a delicious looking palette. We all noticed that the pizzas had been sliced in quarters, too large to handle. There were knives along with other cutlery in a Mason jar on the table. Each quarter got sliced in half.
Be prepared though, these things come to you hotter than the surface of Venus (860° F). Do not dive right in, wait for it, wait for it. . .
The crust was thin, not cracker thin, but certainly not thick. It was also very good. Not too yeasty or oregano-y. Just a perfectly simple crust that does not need to be stuffed with anything. I finally did get to bite in and was perfectly satisfied. The banana pepper was a great addition, a new, different taste to the more traditional toppings. The little vinegar-y things were thankfully sparse and thus, did not overwhelm.

Adam's pie was mostly meat, with a sprinkling of
chopped basil to offset the otherwise bland colors. Adam is a pizza professional, capable of making a great pie himself at the place he works. Even though he eschews vegetables, onions, peppers, etc, himself, he respects them, his opinion counted for something. He was quite pleased.
Angel's atrocity was also nice to look at, but wrong, just wrong. No tomato sauce, chunks of chicken, and knowing that it was slathered in Provel 'cheese' rather than mozzarella, as God intended, she bit into it as if it were perfectly normal. Provel, a primary component of St. Louis style, is a blend of cheeses made specifically for the region. I've never cared much for it myself, it comes across as a bit sweet. Sure the texture is great, it doesn't harden as it cools, but for me the taste is one-off. Sure enough, the richness of the cheese had her stop about halfway through. Well, we all stopped about halfway through. The fresh ingredients and sauces

and cheeses make this pizza rich, and very filling.
Charlotte brought us boxes, and the check.
Summary:
 I told Angel that this would be a very difficult review to write. A good story requires conflict. There was none. Zero. The whole experience was pleasant, efficient, relaxed, tasty and just plain good. Okay, the tea was pretty weak, but that's it. Lorenzo makes seriously good pasta dishes and can also toss out an exceptional pizza, one of the best in the county, if not beyond. The price was more than reasonable, an appetizer and three pizzas for thirty four dollars and change. . . three six-topping pizzas! The staff was efficient, precise and experienced, very, very few slip ups in our many visits. The place itself is cozy and 'warm'. Even the music fits the place perfectly. I not only think Lorenzo's makes one of the best pizzas in the area, but on the whole, I'd go so far as to say that it is among the best restaurants as well.
Highly, highly recommended!

Trattoria Giuseppe

5442 Highway 21
Imperial, Mo
On the Internets

Facebook

If we're going to TG, we must be celebrating something. Indeed, Angel's birthday. Not actually her birthday, but rather, the weekend before her birthday, which is how busy people like us do things.
The Place:
Hard to find if you are not looking for it. There's not a lot of traffic on this section of Old 21, it's not actually in a town, or even within sight of one. It's an industrial area, body shops, gravel plants, a few older houses and trailers. The only signage for the place is on the bottom of a cluttered and worn marquee. It shares a building with a tavern, one with several Harley's and battered pickups parked outside.
But lots of people do look for it. Reservations are highly recommended. Though oddly and obscurely located, this is not some dingy roadside diner. Walk in and you are met by a full staff, this evening sharply dressed in black pants and shirts, with bright red neckties. No booths here, there is a bar off to the left, but this is not a bar and grill, at least on weekends. Once inside and seated you might as well be in New York City.
It's not fancy, if you bothered looking up the definition of the word Trattoria, you'd know that already.*
The building is old, the floors are a little slanty. No fancy tables or decor, just a comfy, homey place. Italian-American music plays softly in the background, Sinatra-big-band style, mostly. On one wall is a cluster of LP  covers, Pavaratti's Greatest hits, the soundtrack from The Godfather, etc. The tables, four tops, are covered in green textured vinyl. The chairs are simple, wood.
On each table the silverware is wrapped in crisp white linen, a shaker of parm and a cruet of olive oil are filled and ready.
They seated us in the back, one of about twenty or so tables. The menus simple, uncomplicated. Pasta, seafood, steaks and Pollo (chicken). There are some appetizers, including the locally ubiquitous fried ravioli.
Lisa asked about drinks.
The Food:
"Sweet tea" said Angel.
"Is regular tea okay? We don't make sweet tea." Lisa answered.
"Sure, but can I get that without ice?"
"Certainly." Lisa scribbled something.
"And you sir?" She asked me.
"Ice tea, please."
"With ice?" she puzzled.
"Of course, we're not the same person, you know." I answered, nodding my head toward my quirky wife.
Adam asked for his Pepsi, she skittered off.
I was in the mood for steak, Giuseppe knows his meat. He chooses wisely and prepares it expertly.
Angel loves seafood, but wanted to try something different. She drooled at the evening's special as Lisa had recited it to us. Steak Pescatore**.
When Lisa came back with our drinks and complimentary bread basket, we ordered.
Of course we all asked for the salad, the soup of the day had the word 'broccoli' in it, so I dismissed that as a possibility immediately.
I went for the New York Strip, with a baked potato. I could have ordered a small portion of pasta or the day's veggie offering, but the day's offering included the word 'squash', so that possibility as well,  I dismissed immediately. I poured a little oil into my saucer, peppered it and dipped some of the excellent bread. The tea was as near perfect as any I've  had anywhere outside my own home, clear, dark, very fresh.

Angel went with the special, sided with the veggie medley. Adam chose the Pepper Loin Filet with a cream sauce pasta side.
We appetized with the fried ravioli. A few weeks ago we dined at a place that boasted the best fried ravioli in the area. They were wrong, Giuseppe makes it better. Fresh, meaty, dipped in a house-made sauce, rich in texture and depth of flavor. I pre-double-dipped mine, dipping one edge, then turning it ninety degrees and dipping it again. This gave me two bites, each one sauced perfectly. I only had one of the treats, I had a potato coming. Angel and Adam scuffled over the rest of them.

Then came the salad. Most places, you order the 'house salad' and you get some iceberg lettuce, a cherry tomato and maybe a couple of rings of onion, with a packet of industrially manufactured sauce. Not here.

There's lettuce alright, and onion and even a couple of cherry tomatoes. But wait, there's more. Artichoke hearts, real olives, a small pepper (peperoncini) and fresh grated mozzarella cheese. All this mixed with the house-made dressing, slightly sweet and creamy. I don't always make a complex salad for myself, I'm from the midwest/south. However it is possible to take a few ingredients and make a salad worth crowing about. This is perhaps, more than likely, the best house salad of any place in the area. I ate most of mine, but not all of it, I had a potato coming. Sure Adam plucked off just about everything but the lettuce and cheese from his, but it still made a very good salad.
One of the things that frequently sets me off in restaurants is the timing of the courses. In the sports-casual franchises, Chili's, TGI-Friday's, Ruby Tuesday, etc. it often seems like a game of chance, more often getting it wrong, either too fast or too slow. Giuseppe is a professional. The courses are perfectly orchestrated. Just enough time to complete the appetizer, or the salad, then just a brief pause, not an awkward impatient timeout, before the next thing arrives. This is important if you are paying more than franchise chain prices. Service is taken very seriously here.
Sure enough, just as we pushed our plates aside, the food came.
A beautiful steak and a foil wrapped potato. Just a sprinkling of parsley was all that was needed to pretty it up. A big splat of dark butter sat melting on the top of the steak. Butter, pepper, maybe some salt and garlic, that's all. A good cut of meat doesn't need anything else. No need for A1 at Giuseppe's. Of course it was perfectly cooked to spec, medium rare. The potato was blemish free, hot and tender throughout. My thick steak was butter tender,
as was Angel's. The difference being the 'pescatore'. Topped with shrimp, scallops, portabella mushrooms and an amber sauce that looked mighty.

On the side she had that squash-y stuff. It did look pretty and  she said the squash was very good. Sure it was.
Adam's smaller steak was pepper-coated and was sided with a small portion of bow tie pasta in a cream sauce. I asked him how it was after he cleaned his plate. "Awful."
That's called sarcasm, he gets it from his mother.
Neither Angel or I finished our steaks. On my part this was deliberate. I was already planning breakfast, steak and eggs.
Angel wanted some kind of decadent dessert, which is fine, it's her birthday and Giuseppe is well prepared for such demands. I've had the cheesecake before, it was exceptional. Angel went dark, dark chocolate that is. Some kind of nuclear chocolate-chocolate cake that only a woman can really appreciate. She got it to-go. Adam joined in with a slice of cheesecake, I declined. That much sugar would put me in a coma. A nice kind of coma, but still. I've gone so long without sweets it's like mainlining heroin anymore. She had it at home a couple of hours later, with coffee. Coffee at seven or eight in the evening. Another thing I can't seem to do anymore.
Summary:
The service was, as usual, exceptional. Even the younger members of the staff were courteous, professional and competent. Lisa was cheerful, detail oriented and there when needed.
The bill came to $106.14. Yeah, not cheap. That did include three perfect steaks, two desserts and an
appetizer though. "This is the only reason we don't eat here every day, or week, or month." I explained to Adam, who is now working steadily and is becoming more and more aware of the cost of things.
I knew going in that the meal would cost this much, but it's her birthday, and those don't come around every year anymore. We can't do this very often at all, which is okay, it keeps it special.
For us Trattoria Giuseppe is simply as good as it gets.
I've dined in very fine places in NYC, Chicago, Tokyo, Boston, New Orleans, San Francisco, D.C., Kansas City, St. Louis and more. Those were some very, very good places indeed. As good as, but not really any better than this modest, hard to find, off the path location.
I've said it before and I'm sticking with it. Trattoria Giuseppe, is by every measure,  the very best restaurant in the area.

_______________________________________

* Trattoria is an Italian-style eating establishment, less formal than a ristorante, but more formal than an osteria.

** Pescatore is, roughly, Italian for 'fisherman'.

Golden Corral

6110 S Lindbergh Blvd
Saint Louis, MO 63123
 We had to head up to Webster Groves to pick up some dogs. Since we were going to be in the burbs anyhow we thought we'd compare One American style buffet to another. A few weeks ago we ate at Ryan's in Festus and had very little nice to say about it. Well, someone at Ryan's corporate office must have read that review, or maybe there were business reasons that have nothing to do at all with my lackluster remarks, but last week They closed the Ryan's in Festus as well as the one further south in Farmington. No reason was actually given in the newspaper account we saw.
So off we headed to the outer rim of St. Louis, on South Lindbergh near the big mall. This area is a big deal for shoppers. All the big box stores are there alongside the mall and that is surrounded by dozens of car lots. There are many restaurants nearby as well. This particular Golden Corral is enormous. It is also always busy. We've passed it up in the past due to the line of people waiting to get in. Angel said we had plenty of time to wait. I almost doubted her though as right ahead of us a school bus was spitting out teenagers by the dozens. I noticed the bus was from Madison County Kentucky.
Cool, I thought, I'm from Kentucky too! Of course Kentucky has one hundred and twenty counties, many of them I have no idea where are without a map. This was one of those.
Kentucky is diverse, there are in my mind at least three completely distinct and identifiable regions, as different from each other as can be in a single state. There's the Appalachian region in the east, this is where Kentucky's hillbillies and feuding families are and where everyone seems to think of when I tell them I'm from the commonwealth. I'm not from there. Then there's the Lexington/Louisville/Frankfort/Covington (South Cincinnati) region which is also where all of the horse activity is, the bluegrass area in the northern and central part of the hump. I'm not from there either.
Then there's the unheard-of nether regions, well south and west of the mountains and coal mines, way southwest of the urban areas and pristine horse ranches. The skinnier western part of Kentucky is famous for pretty much nothing. That is where I'm from, Trigg County. Madison County is up near Lexington. This means I actually know very little about it. Growing up where I did, Louisville/Lexington were several hours away, whereas Nashville was a little over an hour to the south. Most of our big city needs were managed down there rather than to the distant northeast. I only recall going to Louisville a couple of times, and Lexington once or twice in  my whole childhood. Our TV was from Nashville, the big hospitals were there as well.
Madison County, as it turns out is the county where Daniel Boone built his famous fort/town. I'd never been there. In southern Madison county, near Berea, is a community called Farristown. This is where the busload of kids was from, here for an an archery competition. (I asked one of the weary chaperones). They'd not heard of Trigg County either.
The Place:
We were in line behind them. All of them. They were easy to pick out, all wearing gray event tee shirts. None of them looked anything like Katniss Everdeen, but they weren't toothless, banjo-pickin' hillbillies either.
We indeed waited but not for as long as I feared we might. Golden Corral operates like a bustling, well oiled assembly line. The front staff carried two-way radios and were constantly checking and clearing the tables as people left.
You order your drinks and pay at the front. Then soon thereafter a floor person ushers you to a table about a quarter mile away. No need to sit first, just  set the drinks down and start the carnage.
The Food:

My first round.

The variety at the Corral is spectacular.  Pizza, pasta, steak, a dozen varieties of chicken and beef, fried roasted, spicy, southern-style. There is a soup bar, a salad bar, a Chinese section, and Italian section, a 'bakery' and a dessert bar that includes a chocolate fountain.
I was timid at first, taking very small portions of just a few things since I was looking forward to what might pop up around the corner. The first plate at this place should be a scouting mission as much as a main course.

Angel's protein plate

I sampled some sesame chicken, meatloaf, green bean casserole, mac and cheese, black eyed peas and a fist sized roll. If you look at it the roll looks enormous, it was, but it was very light and fluffy, mostly air. It probably contained no more actual bread than a regular slice of bread. I added a couple of tablespoons of mashed potatoes and a little gravy. Angel and Adam had beaten me to the table. Angel had about thirty kinds of chicken, mostly wings. She was in the mood for meat, that happens occasionally. Adam had chicken, of course and a huge pile of mashed potatoes. He also got one of the warm, fluffy rolls.

Adam's chicken and taters.

 I was quite impressed, everything was pretty good. It all seemed fresh and well prepared. There were no actual disappointments on my plate. I'm not a huge green bean casserole guy, but this stuff was actually pretty good. The taters were fluffy and not over-salted. The meat loaf was cooked perfectly, with just enough caramelized red sauce (ketchup) to taste pretty authentic. The mac and cheese tasted like name-brand mac and cheese, the sauce thick and creamy.
 I was taking longer so the other two got up after a while, uttering nothing but good things about their meals. Angel noted that she liked the casserole as well.

Angel's seafood round.

Her second round was seafood themed. Fried fish and chowder and something called 'okra' which looked and smelled like a slimy mollusk or mussel of some kind, though she insisted it was a vegetable. Sure, whatever.
Adam came back with more chicken, something he was quite happy with. 'Bourbon Chicken' he called it. Angel said she'd liked it as well.
My second round included chili. They had a big steaming, meaty pot of it at the soup bar. I found a bowl and spoon and ladled in just a little bit. I was almost full and didn't want to waste a lot, I just wanted to taste it. I spotted some cheesy garlic biscuits, the bourbon chicken, a small fried chicken leg and apple pie. Just a little of each.
The chili was quite good, a little sweeter than Wendy's but otherwise quite similar. I like Wendy's chili a lot.

My eclectic second (last) round.

The pie was pretty good, but not awesome. The bourbon chicken was smoky and lightly sweet. I agreed with Adam and Angel, pretty darn good. The roll was similar to Red Lobster's but maybe a little heavier. All of the food was quite satisfying. The only disappointment around the table was that the lady guarding the chocolate fountain would not let Angel dunk her gummy bears. We don't know why, it's apparently just some sort of arbitrary fascist policy.
 Summary:
I started this week's review by saying it would be a comparison of the now-closed Ryan's to this place. Though they offered similar fare, there was hardly a comparison other than that. The Corral had more variety and all of the food was prepared just a little better. Often at Ryan's there were throw-always, things that looked good but didn't quite measure up. I had essentially the same food at the Corral that I'd recently had at Ryan's. The winner was clear, it wasn't even close. We paid almost exactly the same, just under forty five dollars, but the quality difference was night and day. Adam spoke highly of the quality and variety as well, that says a lot. I won't miss Ryan's much, the Corral is a slightly longer drive, but not prohibitively so. The archers of Farristown seemed pleased as well, they were still lining up for seconds and thirds as we left.