Gordon's Cheese Steaks

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518 Bailey Rd.
Crystal City, Mo.
On Facebook

For several years I've extolled the virtues of Gordon's Stoplight Diner. A small, simple, old fashioned, no frills burger joint. For the last few months, the owners of that perfect little burger diner have decided to branch out. I was quite excited to hear about the new Gordon's Cheese Steaks.
I've been to Philadelphia though and had a cheese steak sandwich, so I knew what one ought to taste like. Would they be up to that challenge?
It finally opened, we gave it a few days. I did notice that once or twice they posted that they were sold out for the day and were closing early. I told Angel about that and she merely responded "I could handle a good sandwich for lunch."
So I mapped out a task list for Saturday morning. First I'd stop at the Hillsboro Post Office to drop off five books I'd sold on line that week. This was an unusually high amount of sales, I can go a month or two and not sell any of the nearly five hundred books I have for sale on Half.com.
After that I would go in for my semi-regular oil change. I like the convenience of pulling into an oil change place and having three guys running around my car checking things and topping off fluids. I don't care for the inevitable up-selling, radiator flush, transmission fluid exchange, new battery or wipers, etc. This time though I did accept the offer of an overpriced air filter. He showed it to me and I could see it was more dirt and grime than actual filter. Sure, I could easily go to Wally-World and get a cheaper one and replace it myself, but that's exactly what I'd said I was going to do the last two or three oil changes, but didn't.
After this, I finally headed to Bailey Road, arriving around 11:30. (they open at 11 on Saturdays).
It was chilly, gray and snowing thick, wet, but non-threatening flakes.
The Place:
This little shed of a place has been a walk up food joint, off and on, for as long as I remember. Maybe pizza and something else, I don't recall exactly what and when.
There is no dining area. You don't even go indoors, a good, ol' fashioned walk-up. There was an awning or canopy in the front and on this occasion, about five or six people in line.
Everything is made to order, so every order takes a little time to assemble. I got in line and waited. At my turn I told the charming red headed young lady at the counter that I just wanted two 'Originals', nothing else.
I'd originally planned to get more than that, they boast a pretty good sounding 'Coney' for example. But a hand written sign cut me short. 'Cash only'. This severely limited my options. At the post office earlier I'd asked, for no particular reason for $20 cash back.  This gave me a grand total of about $23 in my billfold. I had also seen the overhead menu that stated that the 'Originals' were $7.99 each. I am quite capable of doing broad math calculations in my head and decided to keep it simple this trip. Keep to the basics. This should be their flagship sandwich.

Upon ordering the young lady handed me an IPhone sized pager. She'd said to the people in front of me earlier that their order would take twenty minutes or so.
I took the pager back to my car and browsed the internet and social media on my somewhat new 4G smartphone. That 's always a time killer. I had a book in the car as well. Actually there are five or six books in my car most of the time. I'm a reader.
So I whiled away the time. I watched as the five or six people doing the prep inside worked furiously to fill orders. The wait was noticeable, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes, but I hoped the wait and the higher than fast food prices were worth it.

The Food:
The pager finally went off. There was a wait at the line, the young lady was explaining to the guy that there was some confusion with the orders and that it would be a few more minutes.
I didn't get too frustrated by that. A place that has only been open a couple of weeks and one that was proving quite busy is going to need some time to get the efficiencies and processes figured out. So I waited a few more minutes until they acknowledged that they'd sorted it out and she handed me a plain white bag.
I left and sped home, by then, pretty hungry.
We unrolled our sandwiches threw some chips on a  paper plate and dug in. We had each cut ours in half, we just can't eat a big sandwich in one sitting.

It was indeed good. There was not too much bread, the meat was cooked perfectly, juicy with smooth, creamy cheese (product) mixed in in a near perfect proportion. We both enjoyed our half sandwiches thoroughly.

Summary:
Long time fans will recall that I do not judge the service at newly opened eateries too harshly. As I pointed out, these things take some time to build a flow, so I'll not say anything much about the wait, or the confusion with the orders, etc. These owners have had a successful diner running for decades. They'll figure it out.
I will point out a little thing that could be addressed soon, to cut overhead. There were enough napkins in the bag I was given to mop up an oil spill. Sure the sandwiches are juicy and cheese melty, but they're not that messy.
As for the sandwich itself, yes it was good. Angel commented that next time she might want a milder cheese since there was so much of it, the artificial cheddary Cheez-Whiz taste was a bit over-powering. They offer provolone, that should do the trick.
You can get sandwiches a lot of places for less than eight bucks. You can even get a bigger sandwich for less than eight bucks. But those sandwiches are franchise burgers or too heavily breaded subs. This was a real sandwich. Not too thick, not too greasy. It was fresh and authentic. So yes, in my mind Gordon's Cheese Steaks are better than a fast food burger or a Subway club. But nearly twice the price? I don't know. I did like it and I want it again. I also want to try out the dogs and slaw and fries and chili. . . so there is no question, we will go back. I can also highly recommend the place. They've taken the Stoplight's philosophy of simplicity and applied it well to the new menu. Just remember to bring a book and a fist full of cash. This place has been doing quite well in the first few days of operation, I certainly hope it continues to do well.

But was it as good as the one I tried in Philly?  I don't know. That was like fifteen years ago and I recall not being all that overly impressed. Yes, the real Philly philly was good, but perhaps over-hyped. The one I had here was easily as good, as best I can recall.

Zoup!

810 North New Ballas Court
Creve Coeur, MO.

On the web.

Yeah, 'Zoup!'. Sounds like. . . and that's what it is. If I had to compare it to  a place you've heard of, I'd say it has a menu similar to Panera/St. Louis Bread Company, with not as much bread.
Yes, you can get a bread  bowl for your zoup!, if that is what you are into. I didn't since it sounded like a soup sandwich and my head spun from the mental image of that.
I don't usually go to lunch with the folks at work, I've mentioned that before. My weekday lunch regimen is a bit non-conventional. Fruits and nuts. That's all, fruits and nuts and not really a lot of that.
I eat just enough in the morning to sustain me through lunchtime. Then the fruit and nuts not only kick me into a higher gear, they fill me up. This odd diet allows me to easily avoid whatever temptations might be available, cakes, bagels, leftover pizza, a vending machine full of salty and sweet snacks.
Thursday morning though, the lite breakfast wasn't doing its normal job. By ten my tummy was growling, I was actually looking forward to the chimpanzee meal around noon.
One of my co-workers, one whose name I will not reveal (OWNIWNR) stopped by my desk-kingdom and asked if I'd like to try a new place he'd found. "A little soup and sandwich place I see on my way to work." He'd never been there, neither had another co-worker, who I'll refer to, once again, as 'Tim'.
I heard my tummy gurgle again and surprised myself a little by saying "Sure."
We rode over in OWNIWNR's relatively new car, outfitted with more on-board computers and displays than could be found at NASA during the Apollo program.
I worried a little about what I might order, but decided the worst case scenario would only mean one minor, reversible, backslide for the week.
The drive to Zoup! was not long, seven or eight minutes. During the run I distracted OWNIWNR by mentioning the Cleveland Indians heading to the World Series. He likes sports, he claims his family bleeds Cardinals Red. Indeed he once showed me a paving brick at Busch Stadium with his name on it. At the time I offered to take him to the downtown bus station where, for reasons I cannot at all explain, he could see my name and phone number on a wall. (no one ever seems to call though).
I'd heard about the Indians earlier on my drive in to work. It was about the only sports news presented on NPR, between the sad and increasingly pathetic fund raising pleas on this the last day of the autumn drive.
I remembered it because I'd not heard anything about the Cleveland Indians since the movie 'Major League' came out on DVD. In fact, all I really know about that team is from that movie. "Is Charlie Sheen still pitching?" I asked him.
The Place:
Zoup! is on one side of a busy shopping center. Which one, I don't recall. I don't really explore much
around the workplace, the traffic is thick and restless in that area during the day.
We walked in timidly, like the first-timers we were. The serving line was in the back. The front had window counter seating allowing patrons (Zoupers!?) the intoxicating vistas of a shopping center parking lot. Between the window and the line were nice, but fairly standard tables and chairs.
The place seemed clean and well tended.
There was a line, but not an insurmountable one. That's a nice aspect of limited menu places. Since they only offer so many things, the line moves quickly.
We stepped up.
The menu was on the wall behind the line. Wow, lots of zoups! The place boasts a rotating zoup! menu, which means not the same choices everyday. I like that idea. I could see the big vats steaming. There were about three that I figured I could be happy with. A turkey chili, a zoup! called chicken Potpie and a 'Seafood Chowder'
I would have preferred a bit more specificity than 'Seafood'. That could mean a lot of things. I like some, shrimp, scallops, crab, lobster, but don't want anything to do with oysters or clams. (snotfish)
But no worries first-timers, they offer free samples!
Just about everyone in line was asking for a sample or two. It gave me a chance to check out the seafood. Tim was tasting the Potato Cheddar, I'd ask him about it later. This is the same guy that recommended One19 last week so I sort of trust his food judgement a little.

The Food:

The salad selection looked more than adequate, with a Cob, a house and a few other specialty salads. They also had a reasonably good sized sandwich menu, which I ignored. If I have a sandwich, any sandwich, for lunch, I'm bloat-y and snoozing by 2 P.M.
I couldn't hear what OWNIWNR ordered, it turned out to be zoup! and a sandwich.
The zoup! comes in various sizes. 'Side', cup and bowl. After evaluating a sample, I decided that the seafood chowder was the way to go.
Apparently a chunk of bread comes with the zoup! order, I declined. Just the soup and a small drink please.
The serving line was filled with perfectly friendly and helpful people. Even the checkout lady didn't yell at me.
The price knocked me back a step. Ten bucks and change for a bowl of soup and a small drink, period. Not that I can't afford that, but it did seem a bit pricey for a small lunch. Heck, my own version of lunch costs me about seventy five cents per day.
It occurred to me why I was hungrier than usual. During the week, dinner, or supper, is my largest meal of the day. Even that is not really all that big. I usually pile on the whole meal in one of the smaller plates in a set. If you eat the right things you don't need as much. Also, my job doesn't exactly burn off a lot of calories, that's why I have to limit and regulate myself so closely if I want to maintain my girlish, but strikingly handsome figure.
However the evening prior to the gurgling tummy, I'd only had a thin lunch meat sandwich and a tennis ball-sized apple. Nothing else the whole evening.
Hopefully the chowder would do the trick.
We were rung up and handed receipts, mine was #97.
It doesn't take a long time to prepare an order at a soup place, so I had barely enough time to sit down and take a sip of the surprisingly fresh tea when they screamed out my order number.
A tray, a paper bowl and a plastic spoon. Sort of Spartan, but the bowl actually looked to me like way too much.
The sample I'd had didn't seem to contain any of the detestable snotfish I'd feared. Stirring around the semi-thick, creamy and buttery chowder I spied chopped shrimp, crab and fish. If it had snotfish in it, it was ground to a pulp and was undetectable.
It was not so thick that it would hold a spoon upright, but definitely thicker than Campbell's Cream of Celery, which is my go-to soup base at home.
The tastes were fantastic. I could indeed taste the crab and the shrimp. It was not nearly as heavy as some chowders I've had, which was a good thing.
The conversation was sporadic, we'd exhausted my sports knowledge with the bit about the Indians and OWNIWNR knew that Tim and I don't really follow sports. Tim enjoys playing with science fiction action figures and reading and collecting Archie comics, if I remember correctly. He's also teaching his young twin offspring how to play vintage Dungeons and Dragons. Yeah, he's one of those, I think.
So we talked about pension plans, IRA's and limited retirement options. Had the lunch lasted longer we would surely have started swirling into talking about aging issues, diseases and surgeries and the like. It always happens when you hang for long with a few gents of a certain age range.
As a meal, it was very tasty, quite satisfying and held up nicely throughout the afternoon. I did have to take a 2 P.M. anti-snooze walk, but that's not uncommon.
Summary:
A nice little place, convenient to work, quick enough to feed you with a little time to spare to get back to the cubes before managers start yelling. The staff was very pleasant, I saw no service infractions, no back-ups or mishaps. The price was a bit higher than I had assumed, but be advised, not all the zoups! are priced the same. Seafood was about the priciest on the list. OWNIWNR's two-fer, Potpie zoup! and Chicken Toscana  sandwich, ended up costing him over fourteen dollars since he'd up-sized from a 'side' zoup! to a bowl. But it was "Very good" and certainly worth going back for. He added "With a few minor tweaks it would bee a serious contender with Panera." The zoup! was, all around the table, very good. Tim's potato cheddar was according to him, "Awesome." Yeah, he talks like that.
Though higher priced than I'd expected, that would only be a real problem if I ate there frequently. But alas, I'll mostly stick to my own berries, twigs and seeds most of the time.
So if you're looking for a quick, great quality meal and you are in the general area, be sure to give it a shot!

Arby's

"Lights. Seen in the sky above the Arby’s. Not the glowing sign of Arby’s. Something higher, and beyond that. We know the difference. We’ve caught on to their game. We understand the “lights above Arby’s” game.
Invaders from another world.
Ladies and gentlemen, the future is here, and it’s about 100 feet above the Arby’s."
 - 'Welcome to Night Vale:  Episode 1 - Pilot'  -   *


690 Truman Blvd
Festus, Mo.
On the web.

This exercise was the result of a barrage of commercials boasting Arby's 'Smokehouse Pork Belly' sandwich. At first I quivered, then my man-brain started chanting 'big bacon, big bacon . . .'  Angel seemed curious as well. Angel's a very curious person, she likes trying out new things, LOTS of new things, some nice and pleasant, many too physically demanding and weird to repeat, ever, or even discuss openly again.
I was skeptical, but that's what I bring to nearly every party, rampant yet intensely articulate skepticism.
In a case like that, our two minds being of two or more minds, we like to have a backup plan. We discussed this and came up with what I just now mentally invented 'The Chinese Solution'.
Build your own buffet. Order a little of several things, some known, some unknown, bring it home, divide it up, voila! Buffet.
I would make the run, the nearest Arby's to our heavily fortified compound is, of course, in Festus, which is now four or more miles further away than it was a couple of months ago when they finally started to re-construct the crumbling little bridge between us and higher civilization.
I left early to make a couple of utility stops, Lowes for some more succulents (a new, drought resistant, hobby of ours.) and PetSmart for a siphon hose, which they did not have, and three, fourteen cent gold fish. The fish were for our only standing aquarium. (in Maryland we had as many as 28 active aquariums). Our one remaining goldfish, Dowager, has been seeming quite listless since the last of her companions were summoned to Jesus. Even the algae eater that acts as Dowager's housekeeper, seemed to be bored. So we thought an infusion of youth and vigor might be just the kick in the dorsal fin she needs. These three 'comets' were only fourteen cents apiece, as opposed to the two or three buck goldfish at Walmart, because people tend to buy large quantities of these rather simple and plain fish to use as feeders for even larger fish. I told the lady serving them up that I was rescuing these, that they would be free to romp and play for however long they wish, up until the blue, swirling waters of goldfish heaven spirit them away from their mortal coils.

The Place:
At the end of Highway A, at 61/67 in Festus. Too vague?  It's in front of Walmart. There, is that better?
The three new fish swam in a small bag in the passenger seat, not seeming to mind the ride much, but not overly enthused either. I tried to come up with names for them, I tried Huey, Dewey and Louie, but that seemed too dated. Shem, Ham and Japheth popped into my head, but that seemed even more dated, so I abandoned the idea.
The short drive from the pet supply store to Arby's was short and uneventful. I parked, glanced around, took a full pull of cool-ish autumn air, girded my loins (to pull up and tie one's lower garments between one's legs to increase one's mobility) and headed in. Looking above the tall sign, I detected no lights hovering one hundred feet above it. I didn't know what to make of this. Were we not worthy?
Hardly any customers, so I took a head count. There were exactly zero other customers in the place, fewer than I'd originally thought.
I had the order mostly figured out, Angel had crafted a list but I wanted to put my mark on it so she wouldn't think I hadn't given it any thought whatsoever (which is the actual case). Being the sole patron, I took my time. I told the patient lady behind the counter to prepare herself for real work, the order would be complex and full of mind blowing twists and turns.
The Food:
One each:
Smokehouse Pork Belly
Smokehouse Brisket
Sliders:
Chicken
Roast Beef
Corned Beef
Sides:
Onion Rings
Potato Cake
Curly Fries

Pork Belly

Angel had told me to make sure to get Horsey Sauce. I'm not sure what exactly Horsey Sauce is, but I was hoping for her sake that it was not made from actual horses.
I spat out my order to the young, patient lady. She reacted like a pro, pushing single function buttons on her POS terminal (for sake of this post, POS stands for 'Point of sale', not the profane phrase I usually employ the acronym for.). She didn't miss a beat, she punched those buttons like George Jetson himself.
The tab came to forty something dollars, as I recall, I wasn't really paying attention. I swiped the POS slot and stepped back to welcome the thanks I so richly deserved. She asked my name, I showed her my passport, birth certificate and Radio Shack 'Battery of the Month' card. My papers were in order, in fact a little too in order, she just wanted to know whom to call when the order was ready. My bad, I get stopped and interrogated a lot, so I'm always prepared.
It didn't take so very long. Being the only customer has that as an advantage. She was bundling up the last item when she stopped, looked into the bag and pulled something out and threw it away. "Fix another Corned Beef Slider Rex!" She called to the back. This made me wonder what exactly can go so wrong with a corned beef slider that renders it completely and immediately unworthy to give to a customer.

Brisket

While waiting for the new and improved slider, another lady tried bundling the bundles into a slightly undersized plastic bag. It was a clumsy attempt, I feared crushed food. I gently pulled the bag away from her without punching her or calling  her vile names, because I'm a gentleman. I really was afraid she was going to get too frustrated with her task and blow a gasket, or crush my curly fries, which is worse.
The drive home was again, uneventful. This was fine and perfectly fitting, since I'd already decided to try to have an uneventful weekend. On Friday I about lost it when young Tim, a co-worker, said "Have a great weekend!" as I was leaving. "Stop ordering me around!" I screamed back. A 'great' weekend usually involves energy, effort and goals, I wanted absolutely none of that noise.
I handed off the bulging, undersized bag to Angel, she had met me at the door. Meeting me at the door is usually the thing one or more dogs do, but it was Rudy time and he always runs away when anyone comes to the door. Rudy has some comical fear issues. That's why we love him, his weaknesses and fears make us laugh.
She tore open the boxes and bags and lined the food up for the photo shoot. I snapped away, turning and poking and peeling away at the comestibles, to make them a little more photogenic. I reviewed the photos as Angel dutifully pulled out some plates and knives and started slicing everything, small portion, sample size.

Sliders

Our score card:
Pork Belly. I tried this first while the taste buds were still fresh and dusty. I did not care for what they were awakened to. I had imagined it to be bacon-y or salty, but what I got was a sickly sweet, greasy bite.
The sandwich was billed as having barbecue sauce, but this taste profile was mustard-y and too sweet. I could not really taste the meat itself, just the icky sauce.
Angel didn't mind it as much, but she added that she'd probably not want to eat a whole sandwich of it because of the sweetness.
Brisket. I thought this to be a vast improvement over the pork. Slightly smoky, much less intense, though Angel called it 'smoky, but bland'.
The sliders were all problematic in a specific way. The bread to protein ratio. Both of us started popping them open and plucking the meat. Way too much bread. Angel referred to the chicken version as 'A chicken nugget pasted to a bun' and 'a waste of money'.  It did look like that. The meats, especially the new and improved corned beef were quite okay, but it was really hard to be sure since there was only about a teaspoon of meat on each of the sliders.
The Sides:

The sides.

Angel liked the onion rings. I liked the taste okay, the subtle sweetness of the onion came through, but thought the breading was too thick.
Curly fries are curly fries, neither of us prefer them over normal fries. They tend to clump up in the fryer and have greasy and gooey spots. As far as curly fries go though, they were okay.
The huge fail here was the potato cake. Angel said they were too breakfast-y, as if that were an actual thing, but I got the idea, too much like those hash brown patties you get at fast food drive-in's. I was upset when I discovered there was no frosting or candles on my potato cake. That would have been nostalgic for me. I used to get a potato cake for every birthday. . . hang on, an internal memory error has occurred. . . . . . .  Oh, I remember now, I used to get a potato for my birthday. I was not my parents' favorite child. I'm over it now.  
Summary;
As I sit here typing away, listening to some smooth jazz  about three hours after that meal, my tummy is still queasy. It's a fried fast food thing with me. This stuff makes me sick. It's a cosmically high price I pay to inform you, my fickle fan base. I'm just not sure you are worth the agony anymore, you don't call, you don't write . . .
The service was good, the place was clean, though I'm still curious as to what went wrong with the original corned beef slider. . .  Maybe I don't want to know.
In a nutshell, I will not be making that trek to Arby's again anytime soon. Nothing, especially the star attraction Pork Belly even rose to a rank of 'pretty good'. Later, we were talking about it again, Angel said the only thing she would go back to Arby's for was the good ol' original roast beef. "They should stick to what they do best."
But you shouldn't take my word for it when it comes to fast food anymore, since it makes me sick and everything. I just can't take it anymore.

"We understand the lights. We understand the lights above the Arby’s. We understand so much.
But the sky behind those lights – mostly void, partially stars? That sky reminds us we don’t understand even more."
 - 'Welcome to Night Vale: Episode 25 - One year later' - 



* 'Welcome to Night Vale' is a podcast.  I have been reading/listening to it for about a year. As with most things new and interesting I discover, I first heard about it on NPR during my long, dismal commute.
It's certainly not for everyone.
Back when I was working toward a graduate degree in educational psychology with the University of Southern California (true story) one of the professors (a real 80's California Psychologist) offered an evaluation of each of us in the class after several weeks of classwork and discussions. She came to me, I didn't expect much, since in this class, as with almost every 'group' activity I'm ever involved with, I pretty much sat quietly in the back, avoiding eye contact and chit-chat.
"Dennis, you are a divergent thinker."
I politely thanked her, then rushed home to look up the word 'divergent'. It simply means 'different'. Apparently the professional analysis concluded that I don't think the same way other people do. This pleased me greatly. I'm not unique at all, many, many people can also be considered 'divergent thinkers', just not all in the same way.
Things that appeal to me seem to fall above, under or to either side of 'average'. You well know by now that I do not follow sports, any of them, and that I listen to music, hardly at all. So that opens up a little cerebral real estate that is often filled in with anxiety, trivia, anxiety, curiosity and anxiety.
Anyway, wordplay, sentences and phrasing also often delight me, along with a boatload of divergent - style thinking. That's what hooked me on Night Vale.
Night Vale's podcasts are presented as WTNV radio broadcasts. Cecil reads about current events, community groups, disasters, public service announcements, etc.
In a desert town in the southwest where odd matters of time, physics and metaphysics intersect, but are not quite in a way we regular people in the real world understand them.  "Time doesn't work in Night Vale"
No dogs are allowed in the dog park, no people either, you may see hooded figures in the dog park. Tell no one, drink to forget. The Sheriff's Secret Police are watching you, always, everywhere, for your protection and they hardly ever kidnap children.
"All hail the glow cloud!", a giant inexplicable glowing cloud that also is a member of the PTA.
Libraries are dangerous and scary, and only actually contain a couple of books anyhow, one being an autobiography of Helen Hunt.

From Episode 15:
Welcome to Night Vale.
Ladies, gentlemen, you. Today is Street Cleaning Day.
Please remain calm!
Street Cleaners will be upon us quite soon. We have little time to prepare.
Please remain calm!
The City Council has issued a statement in 20-point all-caps type saying:
RUN! RUN! FORGET YOUR CHILDREN AND LEAVE BEHIND THE WEAK! RUN!

Probably not everyone's cup of tea, but for totally indecipherable reasons, it appeals to me greatly. I now follow a few NV groups, bought the book, etc. These people think differently.

McAlister's Deli

170 Gravois Bluffs Circle
Fenton, Mo.
On the Web

This too was Angel's idea. I don't recall what prompted it, maybe a commercial or ad somewhere.
Before we start though, I need to apologize for the poor quality of a couple of the photos. My trusty tablet died, I took over another one that Angel bought but rarely used since she got her newest smartphone. This was the first time I'd had the new/old tablet on a critique run and the built-in camera has different sensitivities from the one that died.
    McAlister's is a medium sized chain headquartered in Oxford, Mississippi. It's higher end than fast food joints, but still with the overhead menu, the order counter and relatively quick service.
I impressed Angel with this factoid since she's actually been to Oxford Mississippi and I haven't. About ten years ago, a few weeks after hurricane Katrina, Angel and a group of volunteers, mostly from or associated with the Humane Society of Calvert County, Maryland, loaded up an RV and a big, flat trailer loaded down with animal crates and made a fast run to the stricken area to help rescue dogs. One stop they made was in Oxford, the hometown of one of the volunteers.
The Place:
Gravois Bluffs (pronounced 'Gravy' by Angel) is a very large retail complex just across the St. Louis county line. The main parking lot itself is several acres and along the front there is a line of 20 or more, mostly franchise, eateries. McAlister's among them.
I don't like going there, especially on hot July afternoons. All that concrete and asphalt does nothing to stifle the sweltering heat.
Angel announced this place earlier in the week, I poled my two nearest work-mates and got two thumbs up. Well, Tim gave a thumbs up, I'm optimistically assuming that what Doug showed me was also a thumb. Tim even had a couple of recommendations, which Angel based her selection on.
The place had a stylish, modern, but relaxed feel to it. The overhead music was contemporary pop, not the worst kind of overhead sound. I was pleased and impressed with the many large black and white photos of long ago Fenton. I'm a sucker for historical photos of local places.
We went up to the counter and took our time.
By the time someone behind the counter said 'Next', we were ready.
Angel: Big Nasty with mac and cheese and sweet tea.
Me: Half French Dip and chili with un-sweet tea,
Adam: Chipotle Chicken Grill, Broccoli Cheddar soup and Root Beer (Barq's)
We found a table and waited. We had our drinks. I was seriously impressed by my tea, probably the best restaurant tea I've had anywhere. McAlister's is quite proud of their tea, often having tea-based promotions. They've earned that pride, this was a great glass of tea.
The Food:
Eventually, the food arrived. The plates were sorted out and placed. I opened my sandwich and was .
. . underwhelmed. There just wasn't a lot of meat on the bun. The chili cup was sloppy, there was even a large wad of chili spillage on the plate.
As I was photographing the plates, Adam announced that there were no napkins. I walked around the joint and couldn't find any napkin dispensers and had to stand in line at the counter again to ask for some. These minor things started piling up in my mind. I was hoping to breeze through a positive review for this highly recommended place.
The chili was lousy. First, it didn't have beans. I know some people like this sort of thing, but I don't. I consider bean-less chili to be a hot dog topping, a meat sauce, little more. Also, other than the meat and the broth, I could see nothing else. No onion, peppers, nothing. It may as well have been canned hot dog chili. It also was rather tepid. Served a little too cool.
The meat, Black Angus, on the sandwich was quite good. There just was not very much of it, at all. Angel and Adam even commented on my meager portions.
Angel's 'Big Nasty' is what Tim had recommended. I'd read up on it. It's an open faced roast beef
sandwich slathered in brown gravy. I knew this would be right up her alley. She did not regret her choice. She wanted to try the mac and cheese as well, no disappointment there either. She left a lot of bread behind. We've both been cutting down on the starches and just can't handle a lot of nature's packing material anymore. Often we've found and My puny-meated sandwich is a good example, that sandwich places are not picking up on this national trend of cutting back on excessive carbs. Subway certainly hasn't got  the memo. You don't need a mega-bun to just hold some meat and toppings together.
I tried a bit of her gravy'd meat. It was pretty good. Not spectacular, but quite okay. The mac and cheese seemed a little on the cold side. She let me have her pickle, which was nice since I only had about a tablespoon of meat and and about four tablespoons of the chili.
At the time, Angel said everything was good, though later she said that in hindsight, the gravy might have been a little salty.
Adam had finished first, his sandwich was also a bit sparse. He was disappointed that he ordered a sandwich and soup plate and didn't think he needed to specifically add chips or something, claiming that at Cool Beans in Hillsboro the soup and sandwich choice comes with a side. I agreed, I was happy to have a third note, Angel's pickle. I wondered why Angel and Adam got a pickle but I didn't.
Summary:
Well, as you can see I had a few issues. I went in with high hopes and left with a less than 'two thumbs up' opinion. Some of these things were obviously minor, easily correctable errors. If I've said it once, I've said it forty seven times. A pile of minor, easily correctable errors are indistinguishable from one huge infraction. It is indicative of weak management, either in the store or on the corporate level. I appreciate places that want to elevate above 'fast food', I really do, but with that higher price tag, we expect better than fast food service.
There's some really good things about what McAlister's is trying to do, but it is no time to take their eye off the road. I'd love to love this place. The ingredients are all there. But at this point I just can't recommend it to someone I wanted to impress.

Home Subs

Klondike Rd.

Hillsboro, Mo.

Ha! Fooled you!

This is not a restaurant. It's our home. We made sammiches.

 A couple of things that we knew about ahead of time kept us on the compound, warm and cozy. It was my turn in the on-call barrel again and there was an ice storm rolling through. Angel properly stocked the pantry for the almost certain hunkering down.

I noticed the groceries. Interesting stuff. Three kinds of special bread. Sub rolls, soft pretzel bread and some square buns.

Looking in the fridge I saw deli sliced meats, three or four kinds, and various flavors of deli cheese slices.

Yeah boy, sandwiches!

The Place:

A modern but modest looking house nestled into a five acre spread a few miles outside of Hillsboro. We moved in nearly nine years ago, we've lived here longer than anywhere else. The house sits three hundred or more feet from the road and is surrounded by a 89 acre fence-less wooded plot of land that's unoccupied and has been on the market since before we moved here. Our parcel was carved out of that land, sold separately to enable the owner, who inherited the property, to get at least some money out of it. 

Across the driveway from the house is a 30x60 foot steel outbuilding that we've converted into a training center for dogs. We've built out several fenced areas, large and small, to accommodate the many dogs that come and go.

We board and train dogs. By we, I mean Angel.

During the week we both work and don't even dine together. By the time I get home her and Adam have already had dinner, she often makes enough for me too, but isn't required to. I'm perfectly capable of cooking for myself with whatever we have on hand.

This is one of the reasons we started doing the restaurant per week thing. To take some time out and spend time together.

The 300+ foot driveway is the reason ice is a bigger problem for us than most people. Twice I've slid off of it and into the yard, missing the mighty oaks by mere inches.

But it's home.

The Food:

Knowing ahead of time of the plan, I thought about my sandwich and sides for a couple of days. 

She bought a bag of potatoes too. Options.  We don't keep potatoes in the house very often. Adam wanted to make fries, we wanted potato salad.

I peeled and cubed the potatoes, boiled up a pot of water and microwaved the potatoes for five minutes to reduce the boiling time.

Angel finished them up, I had some work stuff to do.We pulled out everything sandwich-able and laid it out on the kitchen island. At several points of the prep stage we were all three in the small but open kitchen preparing something. I was thin slicing some hot house tomatoes and shredding some lettuce, Adam  was expertly twice-frying his hand cut potatoes, he peeled and sliced his own as well. He watches food shows too.

I also sliced some of the sub rolls and square buns, fired up the oven to 400, slathered just a little butter on the open faces and toasted.

Once the potatoes were done we took turns building dream sandwiches

I took one of the toasted sub rolls, pushed in the crunchy, buttery faces (they hold on better to stuff if you do this.)

On the bottom, lettuce and tomatoes. On the top, smoked turkey, roast beef and ham, topped with provolone and Swiss cheese and a thin bacon slice. I didn't use mayo, choosing instead to squeeze a little herb-vinegar-oil on it all.

A few fries, a pile of potato salad, and freshly brewed tea, done!

Angel and Adam weren't so particular about presentation. They used the same ingredients though, except Adam doesn't like tomatoes.

Angel also picked a sub roll. She took more fries than me and poured ketchup over them. She's one of those people. I'm a dipper.

She also slathered her meat in mayonnaise. I like mayonnaise too, but thought the potato salad would have enough for one meal.

Adam picked a square bun, they had toasted up beautifully. He doubled up on the bacon as well. He's a chip off the old heart attack when it comes to bacon.
His fries were exceptional. Better than any fast food joint, he made small, manageable batches, took them out before they were too dark, then, once he'd done that he repeated the process with the already cooked ones to crisp them up. He nailed the process. My sandwich was, of course, perfect. Fresh deli-sliced meats, fresh cheese, about as good a tomato as you can find in February. Lightly sauced, crunchy, buttery bread. Mmmmm.
Summary:
This was nice-restaurant quality stuff. We know what we're doing. The potato salad was slightly relish-sweet, the extra we paid for the sandwich ingredients made this meal just really, really good.
As has been my nature lately though, I couldn't finish my sandwich. The other half sits in the fridge as I type. Lunch on Sunday maybe?
With home-made meals like this, I can't say why we go out so often. We're certainly capable of making restaurant quality meals ourselves.
Highly recommended!

Hardee's Grilled Cheese Breakfast Sandwich

I know, I've said it a Brazilian times, I'm going to stop being disappointed by fast food.
Well, sometimes when you get up early on a Saturday morning and have a hollow tummy and a gummy taste in your mouth, a pre-made breakfast sandwich sounds pretty good.
Angel had just gotten up herself, so I caught her before her usual breakfast, share-a-yogurt-with-Rudy.
"I'm going to Hardee's, would you like something?"
Silly question. She has the yogurt to make her feel better about herself. She wants a breakfast sandwich as badly as I do.
At first she defaulted to the breakfast burrito. Then she changed her mind when she remembered the sign we pass by several tines a week.
"Grilled cheese!"
"Exactly!" I replied.
Hardee's is currently the closest eatery to our house, about five miles away, anchoring Hillsboro's business district. It dominates that part of town, a popular landmark, coffee house, meeting place and an outstanding neutral spot for weekend kid swapping, for separated families. Angel's even done dog swaps there. It's impossible to miss, very much unlike our secluded homestead in the woods.
They've been advertising a grilled cheese breakfast sandwich for a few weeks now. Impossible to completely ignore.
I headed directly to the drive through as I was not exactly fit to make a public appearance. Loose, faded tee shirt, baggy jeans, my favorite crocs and the old and dog hair laden hoody jacket. It's what I wear to be comfy around the house. Also, I hadn't showered yet.
I don't usually like drive-throughs. The speaker system is awful, one must always repeat everything a half dozen times, and very often they get your order wrong. But like I said, I wasn't exactly ready for a grand entrance.
"Would you like to start with one of our grilled cheese sandwiches?" The distorted, squeaky, invisible mind reader shouted through the bullhorn quality sound system.

"Why yes, yes I would!" I screamed.
Silence
"Are you still there?" The box inquired.
"Yes."
"May I take your order?"
"Oh, you need more information don't you."
Silence.
"Okay, I'd like two grilled cheese sandwiches, two tots and a medium coffee. please."
She misread the order back, I re-shouted it.
"Bacon, ham or sausage?" Came the rebuttal.
"Hmmm. sausage I think."
"Did you say sausage?"
"Why yes, that's exactly what I said."
"Your order comes to nine beluga whales and prescient sensibilities." That's what it sounded like anyhow.
I drove up to the window which, as it is 95% of the time in Hillsboro, occupied by a pickup truck.
The wait wasn't long.
A wispy young lady slid open the window and handed me my coffee. Our hands overlapped for a second, a fleeting moment of human to human connection. I was very worried that she, as have many others in the past, might fall instantly in love with me. The moment passed though, I think it was when she looked inside the car, which as on any Saturday, looked like an overturned dumpster. During the week I spend more than entire working day's worth of hours in my little VW, it gets  kind of cluttered and trashy by the weekend.
I swiped what I hoped was the right card through the exterior card eater. ($9.56) It blinked and dinged. She seemed to be satisfied and handed me a warm, aromatic bag. I didn't do the smart thing, which would have been to open it to see how badly they mangled the complex order.
I drove all the way home without succumbing to the temptation to nibble on tots. it was hard, but I'm a real man, able to hold my desires and drives in check.
At home I heard Angel in the shower but I did not wait for her. Poor planning on her part might render her meal cold, not mine. I was confounded and confused when I opened the bag and saw they'd filled the order perfectly.
The bread did look grilled and the cheese was definitely melty. One of the first things many, many dudes learn to cook is grilled cheese. Especially if there are kids in the house.
Though the bread did look grilled, it did so just barely, kind of like half-done toast. A good grilled cheese sammich is best cooked just up to the second it is ready to burst into flames.
The sausage patty extended to the edges for the most part. The bread was square-ish, the patty round. This left dry spots of bread and I do mean dry.
Not that the middle, meaty part was that much better. Very cheesy, but the sausage brought hardly any flavor to the offering. I like a good sage-y sausage. This was more like salty ground pork. the cheese, advertised to be American/Swiss, was more 'Velveetan' in taste. Not that there's anything wrong with Velveeta, but it is a pretty strong flavor. Overall, I was overwhelmed with the blandness of the under-buttered bread and the flatness of the sausage.
Angel, who was a little late to the party, disagreed. She said the sausage brought a nice note of spiciness to the almost overwhelming cheesiness. She agreed though that the bread was way under-cooked, no crunch.
The tots were, well they were tots. Too greasy, too salty, just like we expect and weirdly crave on
rare occasion. Rudy loved the tots Angel shared with him. He seemed to like it as much as the usual yogurt.
In conclusion, I can't say I was disappointed. My expectations were very, very low to begin with. They lived up to those expectations precisely.
Nice try, excellent idea, but fire your chef. You're doing it wrong. Not worth a recommendation.

Arby's

12693 Lamplighter Square

St. Louis, Mo.

On the Web

Yeah, I know, I said I was going to stop eating at and reviewing fast food chains. But there's a story here, granted not much of one, but if I didn't report on this meal there wouldn't be anything this week, because . . . work.

I had to go in to work Saturday afternoon for what was predicted to be an all-nighter and extended to a seventeen hour shift. I try to get ahead of these events when I can, so my Saturday morning would involve sleeping as late as possible, running out to take care of a couple of chores, try to sneak in a nap, then head to work. Sure there's something a little odd about setting an alarm for 3:00 P.M. but that's just the way it is. If you want a career in IT support, you just better be prepared for occasional to frequent weekends, holidays and all-nighters.

All went to plan, I slept until I just couldn't anymore, about 8:30, had some breakfast, checked my social media and email, lounged around for a bit, showered and headed to the Post Office, etc. When I got home I hung around for a bit then went in for my nap. I was up by 2:30.

It was then I realized something was not on my checklist. Work would start at 4:30. The heaviest lifting would be the first few hours. Better get something to eat.

Well, I was headed into the burbs anyhow, I had time to stop somewhere and get something.

I wasn't really hungry for anything specific. I didn't have time for a full, sit down affair, so I just replayed my route in my head and thought about what was on the way.

Heading in, at the first suburb, there are some traffic lights. One, if not all the others, is usually red when I get to it. I recalled the outdoor blinking LED sign, 'Two Fish Sandwiches, $5.' it has been flashing that for several weeks or months now.

I like fish sandwiches. I didn't need two, but I was pretty sure I'd never had a fish sandwich from Arby's before.

The Place:

It's a fast food franchise, they all pretty much look and smell the same. Plastic, pre-fab, nothing original, everything 'safe'. There was hardly anyone else in the joint at 3:30 P.M. on a Saturday. No line, straight to the counter. They took my order, one fish sandwich, curly fries and a medium drink and told me they were a couple of minutes away from having curly fries ready.

So I filled up my cup with tea and a little ice, pumped some ketchup into little paper cups, ripped out a couple of napkins and found a seat where the late afternoon sun wouldn't be on my face or neck. I waited for the order, only a couple of minutes, as promised. It was then I noticed the music. Odd choice, all 70's and 80's top ten. America's 'You can do Magic', Feetwood Mac's 'Everywhere', there was even a little ELO action. (look it up for yourself youngsters). This is the music that was the background noise for my coming of age, teen's through twenties. The problem with that is, and the youngsters won't know this, is that there weren't a lot of music options back then, before cable TV and the interwebs. You pretty much discovered a new song or group over the radio. Most towns had at least one radio station that played popular music at least occasionally, and when they did it was usually Top Ten. At night when the local stations went quiet, the big city flame throwers, like WLS in Chicago, jacked up the voltage and blasted doped up DJ's for hundreds of miles into the wilderness.

Of course, they too played pretty much the same top ten. If you were lucky enough to live in a big city or had a progressive university station nearby, you could sometimes hear more obscure stuff, but otherwise it was the same few songs, day after day.

So by the end of my coming of age period, I was already sick of all these songs.

Being as I was pretty much the only customer, there was no din to help mask the sound. At least it wasn't country. I don't know, maybe this is considered elevator music these days. At least they didn't whip out 'Afternoon Delight' (Starland Vocal Band) or 'Honey' (Bobby Goldsboro). There's a couple of ear worms for you.

The Food:

I like a good fish sandwich. I used to prefer those at Burger King, but they changed the formula a couple of
years back and I haven't had one since. I don't care for the crap at McDonald's at all. If you ever see my car parked at or queued up in the drive through at a McDonald's, go ahead and call the cops. It's either stolen or I've been abducted am am probably in the trunk..

So why not give Arby's a try?

A few years back we ran a comparison review between Arby's and a local chain 'Lion's Choice'.  It is to date, our most read and most controversial review, ever. Mostly because it infuriated the locals that we preferred the national chain over the local favorite for objective and well reasoned criteria. Still, local pride got vicious.

The curly fries were a last minute, impulse decision. They offer waffle fries too, but I recalled that the consistency of done-ness of waffle fries at fast food places is sometimes a bit iffy.

The fish looked good, golden brown and crispy. I hoped they didn't try to season it too much.

The curly fries looked well cooked, also a dark, golden brown. There were a few all tangled up and stuck together, one of the things I don't like about curly fries. That and the fact that they sometimes don't dip-fit into those tiny ketchup cups, make them, for me, more trouble than they are worth. They tasted pretty good though, not too salty.

The fish sammich was on a toasted sesame seed bun, topped with tartar sauce and a pointless, limp leaf of iceberg lettuce. At least they don't put cheese on it like McD's. 

I grew up loving fish sandwiches made at home, with fish sticks (five sticks, four side by side, the fifth one laid perpendicular along the tips of the first four), white bread and ketchup. Mmmmm. . . yummy.  Nobody seems to make them that way anymore. I like tartar sauce better than ketchup on fish, but back in the day it was simply not something we kept on hand at home. Nowadays, I can make a reasonable tartar sauce substitute  with mayo and sweet relish, things we do have on hand for some reason. My arrangement of five fish sticks fit the white bread perfectly, side to side, end to end. This big filet was more triangular in shape so the sides didn't reach the edge and the ends stuck out a little. I bit off some of the exposed fish first. Not bad. 

The breading was a little heavier than it needed to be. The fish was fresh, moist and flaky, the breading crisp, about all you can ask for. The curly fries tasted okay as well, despite having to pause and untangle or break apart a few of them.

The tea was about what I come to expect at most chains, a bit old and unremarkable.

Summary:

As far as fast food fish sandwiches go, it was pretty good. One national review site lists the Arby's offering as the best among its competitors. I tend to agree. It wasn't great, but certainly noticeably better than any other franchise fish sandwich I've had recently.

The service was fine, I liked the fact that they told me at purchase time that the fries would be a little while, that's a nice touch. The place was respectably clean, no litter or noticeable crumbs on or around the many empty tables. At least once during my short visit one of the crew was out on the floor with a broom. The crew didn't make a lot of noise as young crews tend to do at some fast food places. They did hoot it up a little when one of the young counter lady's husband (assumption) stopped in with their two young kids. She got to take a break and hug them for a few minutes. Sometimes I wish I had young kids stop into the workplace to grab some midday hugs.

I don't go to fast food places much anymore since they all tend to make me a bit queasy afterward. This was no exception. My tummy noisily complained most of the evening in the quiet office. So much so that I felt it necessary to tell the other two guys about it, apologetically. 

A quick meal for six bucks is pretty decent. Sure it sours the stomach later, but it certainly was filling. Around seven, the other guys said they were making up an order for some takeout, I declined. I was seriously not hungry, even though, uncharacteristically, someone else was picking up the tab. I ate nothing the rest of the night.

If I ever do yearn for a franchise fish sandwich, Arby's will be the top choice, though that only happens about once or twice a year, tops.

My only other complaint about this Arby's, or all of them, I don't know which, did not have Wifi. . . I thought all the chains had Wifi. Most of the time I do go to one of these places I'll order a coffee and maybe an apple pie, just to be able to do some downloads. 

So, not bad, better than others, but the whole fast food bar is pretty low.

Waffle House

#1163
Festus, Mo.


You know where it is, just off the Interstate.
The one in Festus, overlooking I-55 is pretty much just like the other 2100 locations in 25, mostly southern, states.
The Place:

There's something quite laudable about consistency, simplicity and efficiency. Also, another Boy Scout-like quality, preparedness.
"The ability of a Waffle House to remain open after a severe storm, possibly with a limited menu, is used by FEMA as a measure of disaster recovery known as the Waffle House Index."
Yeah, they're ready for it. Portable generators, a stockpile of food, and a healthy Disaster Preparedness plan.
The same can be said about the food, simple, clean, unfettered by sparkles and bling.
Open 24/7/365, fair weather or foul, they've got what you want, when you want it.
The place is small, cozy, friendly. The diner-like layout encourages interaction with the crew, and the crews I've come across are always willing to chat, a little or a lot.
Angel had a craving, a hankering for hash browns this week. I don't try to understand or explain these things, I just go along for the ride. I can enjoy breakfast for dinner, lunch, or even breakfast, just about any time.
It wasn't very busy this warm but pleasant Saturday night. Someone said that everyone was at the fair, the Jefferson County Fair, in Hillsboro.
The fair was exactly why we decided to not go to a place in Hillsboro. Whenever and wherever a throng of people are gathering, we can be found going the other way.
I was of limited mind. For two nights in a row my ankle collar, rather, my work phone, had interrupted my precious nights' sleep multiple times. Functional, but listing off task quite a bit.
We stepped in and picked from several open booths.
The Food.

The menus were two sides of a legal-paper sized, colorful, laminated card. Limited options, sure, but everything you need. A young lady name-tagged 'Rebequa' stopped by and asked about drinks. Coffee, sweet tea and Coke. We flipped the menus several times, as if we didn't know what we wanted.
Actually, I was taking a risk. I was not going to order two eggs, over medium, bacon, hash browns (with onions) and toast, which is my normal order for places like this. I decided to go off the map. I knew they could whip together a good breakfast, time to push the envelope, live on the edge.
I finally picked the 'Texas Bacon Cheesesteak Melt, a sandwich. It came with hashbrowns, I 'smothered' mine, onions.
Angel asked 'Rebequa' about the portion sizes of the hash brown meals. She pulled out the stops. She went for the large, adding onions, ham and sausage gravy (smothered, chunked and country.) She added two scrambled eggs on the side, said no thanks to toast because that just seemed excessive.
Adam picked his go-to plate, the two egg (scrambled) All-Star special, toast, hash browns (plain), bacon and a waffle.

Smothered, Chunked, Country.

I announced my choice and got stares from the family.
'Becca' as her crew members called her, scurried off. I was going to ask her about the spelling of her name, but decided against it, that's exactly what she wanted people to do.
The food came pretty fast, I'd only made it through one Angry Bird level. Angel and Adam had not made it very far into whatever they were e-devicing either. No complaints though.
The plates came out and looked perfect. The scrambled eggs were all bright and moist, not overcooked. The hash browns looked crunchy. As her plate appeared before her, Angel moaned, the moan of a woman about to be perfectly satisfied.
Adam's took more than one plate, three to be exact, the waffle and the bacon each got their own. I personally don't care too much for WH's waffles, too cake-y and sweet. Adam immediately blasphemed and covered his with syrup (blech!).

Why so many pickles?

My sandwich looked simple. Not over stuffed, not pouring out of the edges. Many places go overboard with sandwiches, I prefer that they don't. I was worried about it a little though. In my mind I had accepted the fact that the steak would be tough and dry. I didn't know where that premonition came from, but it was a risk I was willing to take. It was accompanied by a squeeze pouch of 'real mayonnaise' and more pickles than were necessary. I shoved a few into the sammich though, squeezed in a little mayo.
Adam sorted his all out, keeping it all on separate plates. I would have

mushed everything together, but he's his own man.
Across from us, sitting at the counter, a husky, middle aged man continued bantering with the crew. He seemed familiar to them, calling them each by name. Then they started discussing schedules, covering shifts and I got the impression that we might be in the presence of the owner/manager.
They were discussing how light the traffic flow in the diner had been, he chalked it up to the fair.
"But they'll come here when afterwards won't they?" One of the young ladies asked him.
"Nah, they'll be too hot and tired and filled with deep fried carnival food." He answered.
"What about the drunks?" Another asked.
"They'll go to White Castle." He chuckled.
At another point they were discussing being nice to difficult customers. He had wisdom for that as well. "If they want bad service they can go to Huddle House." Everyone laughed at that as well. I liked this guy.
My sandwich surprised me. I was all ready  to be harsh, but it turned out to be pretty good! The steak was thin and moist, tender and tasty. It was no original Philly cheese steak, but for a local hash house, not bad, not bad at all.
The food disappeared rather quickly. Angel's moan turned into soft grunts and occasional single word essays. "Crunchy". "Gravy.", "Mmm." and "Perfect"
Summary:
Rebequa laid the check down ($28.52) on our table as we were wrapping up. She took the empty plates away. I noticed she'd written her name on the check, not Rebequa, but rather Rebecca. Actually she spelled it out ReBecca. A real identity crisis going on with this one. I couldn't tell whether when the crew talked to her they were saying Becca or Bequa. Maybe she's on the run from the cops.
She was good though. Kept us refilled and cleaned off, got the orders exactly right. It was a fun meal, Waffle House is a happy place, even with all the drunks going to White Castle instead. I'd have to be very liquored up myself to ever step foot into that disgusting place.
The food was, as expected, fast and quite good, even the off-the-norm sandwich.
As I said at the top, there's something to be said for simplicity, quality and consistency. It is as dependable a place as you'll find. No fake pink meat slop, no added flavorings or preservatives, just good, hearty food, cooked quite well.

Quiznos

12676 Lamplighter Square
Saint Louis, MO 63128

91 Concord Plaza

Saint Louis, MO 63128

* On a sad note, Bandana's in Crystal City burned down this week. From the news coverage it appears that the fire completely gutted the place. The owner offered the 26 employees jobs at other locations and more than half of them took him up on the offer, the others, mostly students, did not. He plans to reopen in a few months, most likely at another location in the area. In the meantime the place will be missed, Angel slips over there for lunch on occasion.

This is not the same one we'd been to before. Apparently the more convenient (on my way home) Lamplighter Square location, across Highway 21 from St. Anthony's Hospital is now a place called Pad Thai, which I assume to be a Thai restaurant.

We were on a quest to try Quiznos' much advertised Lobster Salad Sandwich.

Very disappointed. Also, very lost as what to do. We just drove to the old location and it wasn't there. This was a planned-ahead meal, we wanted Quiznos  and when we found it gone, we were left in a quandary.

So we checked the GPS and the interwebs on Angel's Angry Bird machine, but the GPS was lying to us again and the browser kept timing out on the smartphone. 

So we punted. The Mehlville/Concord  area is home to hundreds of other restaurants, so we decided to drive around until we saw something that appealed to us as much as the anticipated, yet frustrated lust for a lobster sandwich. 

Angel suggested Golden Corral. a big, popular buffet, I reluctantly conceded, sure, why not.

We got to the Corral, parked in the crowded lot and saw a line at the door, extending twenty people deep on the sidewalk. 

"No." I declared, and we turned on our heels and got back into the family truckster.  

So we headed north, arbitrarily, on Lindbergh.

After a mere  mile or so we passed the thirtieth strip mall and Adam shouted out "There's a Quiznos" with the style and enthusiasm of a young sailor atop a tall ship's mast spotting his first breaching whale.  

Angel abruptly pulled into the next parking lot, sped the truckster to an exit south of the spotted target, and dived across four lanes to get to the  place.

Parking space in front of the store looked tight  so we parked in the larger lot uphill from it and walked past the jewelry store, where a dozen or so young, obviously high maintenance women were ogling shiny rocks, as their suitors looked on, the financial wear and tear showing on their faces. I bet some of them actually bought in to that three-month-salary myth. Poor, ignorant saps.
Inside the small place was colorful, the walls were painted purple, green and orange. The front of the counter was loaded up with racks of chips, a pretty wide selection. A young man and a young woman, late teens to early twenties, manned the line. We were greeted and asked our order by the woman, the man pulled on clear, plastic gloves, preparing to dive in.
The Food:
We already knew what we wanted, but we still had decisions to make, the first being the type of bread.

 They offered white, wheat, foccacia and... something. We stopped at foccacia, a white bread baked with herbs and / or cheese in the crust. Angel went first.

Toasted bread.

An eight inch lobster salad sandwich which she topped with yellow onions, olives and a little mayo. I did the  same but without the olives.
The young lady pulled out a cutting board, notched with the different sizes offered. She lined up the bread and slid the big knife down and through the guide slots, thus guarantying uniform sized sandwiches.
She then sliced through the middle, opening it up for the ingredients, and sat the halves  face up on the toaster grill's conveyor. Out the other side came perfectly toasted bread, a little char on the edges.
The young man scooped on the seafood salad, and lettuce. This is the basic offered version. He added the onions, olives and mayo on Angel's and the onions and mayo on mine.
In the mean time Adam's Mesquite Chicken sub went through similar assembly, no tomatoes and no onions please.
We each selected a bag of chips, BBQ for me, BBQ kettle-style for Angel, and Adam picked out his usual Sun Chips.
The sandwiches were wrapped and set into plastic, skillet-like baskets. Our bill was tallied up and we were handed cups.
Across from the counter were the drink dispensers. I got unsweetened black tea, Angel picked out raspberry lemonade, Adam poured a Pepsi.  
The first bite reminded me why I like Quiznos better than Subway, the crunch of the thin bread. Subway will toast your bread, but only if you remember to ask, and Subway's bread is much thicker.

Dissected

The foccacia had a mild herby taste. The Lobster salad itself was a bit timid. Though it boasted a butter sauce, it was barely noticeable. There was definitely lobster, not just krab.
Krab, like you find in grocery stores is actually a seafood blend consisting of fish, maybe some shrimp, maybe some crab, maybe just some flotsam and jetsam, I'm not  sure. It has a slight sea-foody taste and makes for pretty good soups, dips and seafood salads on the cheap. I had read ahead and found a claim that Quiznos lobster salad was 51% lobster and 49% etc., which I assumed to be krab.
Like I said, there was definitely some lobster.
Sitting at our tight tall table, I tried to analyze the lobster salad. It wasn't bad, at all, but the texture seemed odd. Then a small ball, about a half inch in diameter fell out of the side, bounced off my shirt and silently ker-splatted on the tile floor. It kept its basic ball shape.
I ate half my sandwich and half my chips, wrapped up the rest. I was full.
Actually I was bloaty. I'd had a salad around noon using up some produce etc. nearing the end of its edible shelf life. The tuna salad I topped the salad with may have been a little older than I'd thought and I spent the day felling a little odd, not nauseous, just suffering a mild disturbance in the force.
Adam and Angel finished theirs up without delay.

Seafood Ball

Most comments by the family trio were about the superb-ness of the bread. The lobster salad received no negative comments, but there were mentions of not enough butter taste, and the overall taste being a bit light.
When we got home I dissected the rest of my sandwich to investigate the ball-nature of the seafood.
I discovered that in fact the lobster salad was all-balls. 
Unlike other seafood salads I've had the seafood was not shredded, it actually was formed into little sturdy balls. This probably seemed like a great idea, easier to portion out equally, but in actual practice, it created a texture issue. It was tasty, indeed, but the little balls just felt wrong in the mouth. Not having a strong taste, this texture was very noticeable.
Summary:
The Lobster salad sandwich is the priciest item on the Quiznos menu, at about eight bucks for a regular. And it is no lightweight either, nutritionally speaking. A regular, eight inch sandwich boasts 760 calories, nearly half of that in fat with 110 grams of cholesterol. So this is not a diet delight, though it's not nearly as bad as a greasy half pound burger.

Thick, splendid chili

Our total bill came to twenty eight dollars and change, a reasonable fast food price. There was plenty of food, nobody left hungry.

On our way out I picked up Sunday lunch/dinner. Two large bowls of chili. I like their chili a lot, it's thick and not too spicy, not too tame.*

On the drive home we discussed it further and decided that we might have the sandwich again, but no more likely than any of their other sandwiches. It was fine, pretty good in fact, but hardly something worth the extra price and all the ballyhoo.

Location for us is an issue. This store is apparently the closest one to our house, more than thirty minutes away in good traffic. It's out of my way as a stopping point on the way from work, so it's not likely we'll make it there very often. This is a shame considering that there's a Subway and Cool Beans Java Cafe in Hillsboro, much, much closer.  Cool Beans makes killer sandwiches, Subway is fast, easy and convenient.

I still think Quiznos overall is much better than Subway, just too far away.



*  This chili was not what I expected. Unlike the chili from the Lamplighter location, this stuff tasted like it was fresh from a can. Angel noticed that it looked completely different too. I will not be having this again.