Huddle House

13002 Hwy 21
Desoto Mo.

The Place:
 On highway 21, just south of Rock Road. You can't miss it, the building is bright and crowded, and  open 24 hours. It's been open for about five months according to Emily, our server, who has been working there since it opened. If every new restaurant drew as many people as were there when we arrived, five months in, there would be a lot of very happy restauranteurs.  I'd heard of Huddle House, never actually been to one. We found it last week heading toward 'Off The Hook'. There was a sign that we hadn't noticed before.
Advance research indicated a Denny's like menu. Primary focus on breakfast anytime, but also offering sandwiches and dinner platters as well.
All week I salivated at the prospect, hoping that it was not a lame wannabe. The first thing we noticed was that it looked kind of small. Inside though it seemed to be much larger. Though it was very busy, we still had our choice among several booths and tables.
It was cozy, the aroma was that of breakfast, the walls were muted colors, burgundy and brown. The tiles sort of adobe color. The ceilings were high and the kitchen area was framed by stamped chrome, diner-style. Hanging from the ceiling was a large flat-screen tuned to a muted, but closed captioned, Fox News. the music was country and there were framed jerseys and photos representing local high school sports teams.
I was not surprised by the country music and Fox News, it simply meant that HH knew its locals.
Desoto is almost too far south for a daily commute into St. Louis, most people in and around  the railroad town are locals, many rural. It is a conservative, God-fearing town for the most part. Nothing wrong with appealing to the locals.
We were greeted by Emily and started drooling on the menus. We started with drinks, coffee for me, sweet tea and Pepsi for Angel and Adam.
The Food:

Stuffed Hash Browns

The problem with a place like this is that everything looks good. It's all comfort food.Nothing fancy, nothing pushing the envelope. I'd scanned the online menu ahead of time and had prepared myself for the meal I wanted.
After much deliberation and after Emily delivered our drinks, we ordered.
Stuffed hash browns for me. Yeah, you read that right. A layer of crispy hash browns, topped with scrambled eggs, sausage patties and crumbled bacon, then another layer of hash browns topped with some cheese sauce and sausage gravy, with a side of toast. Wow.
Angel and Adam finally decided on the country fried steak platter. Slight variations though. Adam wanted to replace the toast with a waffle, and Angel wanted extra gravy since Angel always wants extra gravy.
The CF steak platters came with toast, scrambled eggs and hash browns.
Around us, people were casually dining on similar fare. We sipped our drinks and occasionally looked up at the TV. Adam played a game on his mother's smart-ass phone, I people-watched. Salt of the earth locals, families, and a young couple that looked like they had recently been strung out on meth. That's an opinion only, I have no actual knowledge that the non-blinking wan and pale couple had ever used illicit home-made drugs.
I sipped my steaming Joe out of the fire-engine red mug. It was fresh, earthy and hot. Angel said the sweet tea was pretty good as well.
The wait for the food was a little longer than I expected, but not really too long. Then the plates arrived.

Country fried steak, with sides

"That looks like a heart attack on a plate." Adam said about my piled-high platter. Lots of gravy, enough to completely conceal everything else. Their CF steaks were also thickly coated.The scrambled eggs were bright yellow, the hash browns looked very crunchy, the way we like them.
We dug in.
My platter was everything I wanted and optimistically expected. Adam's comment bothered me a little. I am a man of a certain age with certain typical medical conditions, treated, common for the type. I try to watch my fats and cholesterol, yet here I was throwing caution to the wind. I thought deep thoughts as I shoveled the wonderful flavors and textures into my face.Yeah, this could kill me eventually. I thought, so could about a million other things though. I travel two and a half hours per day to get to and from work, I have a history of smoking and generally not watching my diet. I have an often-stressful job, frequently work long hours, don't get a lot of exercise, and have a family history of certain scary things involving advanced age. Lots of things could be pointed to as what eventually kills me, but frankly, if it is the occasional intake of food like this that eventually does me in, well, there are certainly much worse things.

Waffle

Honestly though, we pretty much only eat like this when we eat out. At home there are lots of salads  and light meals, fruit, veggies and ground turkey instead of beef whenever possible. You guys only hear about these heavy, rich meals because my regular meals are usually quite light, tame and boring. I don't usually eat breakfast, my lunches at work consists of a few snack crackers, a small box of raisins and a banana. Snacks are more likely nuts than anything else, so get off my case.
I tried one of the pointy, spill-over-bits of Adam's waffle, it was a sweet recipe, I'm okay with that, but it's not my favorite form.
I asked Angel about her steak. She wrinkled up her face and said that part of it was overcooked, so it was a little dry, but crispy. Adam agreed. Both finished their meals though without further comment. I couldn't finish mine, there was simply too much. "It beat you!" Angel cried when I pushed the plate away. "Yes, yes it did." I was however completely satisfied.
Summary:
The secret to places like this is to keep it simple. The spice racks are not overloaded with exotic herbs, recipes contain only a line or two. Think about it. You choose a good quality sausage and fry it in a pan. You scramble an egg, shred and grill potatoes. Then you mix flour, sausage drippings until smooth for the gravy. A little salt a little pepper and you're done. There are no complicated or complex recipes at all. Keep your grill clean and at the right temperature and keep an eye on the done-ness and you've got it nailed.Waffle House, IHOP, Denny's, they are all similar and all very good for this one exact reason.
The staff, Emily in particular was dutiful and always available refilling our drinks. She smiled a lot and seemed warm and friendly, as did the other servers. All in all a very nice, inviting, comfortable experience.
 The price was right as well, all that luscious food for only twenty eight bucks, less than ten dollars per person. A guy could really get used to this sort of thing, if only it wasn't trying to kill him.


 

Poppy’s Ristorante

2004 N Truman Blvd

Crystal City, MO

http://www.poppysristorante.com/

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

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

The Place:

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

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

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

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

The Food:

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

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

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

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

Penne Special

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

Pasta Con Pesce

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

Buffalo Chicken Penne

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

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

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

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

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

Summary:

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

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

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

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

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

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

Texas Tater N' More

144 7^th Street

Hillsboro, Mo

On Facebook

The new burger chart

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

The Place:

Cavernous interior

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

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

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

The Food:

Tablecloth

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

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

Classic Burger with plenty of PLTO

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

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

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

A gentleman brought our baskets to us in short order.

Grilled Chicken ad (blech) broccoli.

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

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

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

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

Cowboy, with extra bacon

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

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

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

Summary:

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

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

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

Taytro's

343 North Creek Drive
Festus, Mo.

On the web.

On Facebook

 Sometime during the week I’d decided that this would be a great idea. We hadn’t been there in a while and we all like it. Without dissent we headed out Saturday evening. The day had been dark and dreary, December showing its true nature. Birthdays and holidays encroaching too quickly, associated stresses were building. I’d slept in and was late to my writers club Christmas party and arrived in an inexplicable and unforgivable asocial mood. Not harsh and rude or anti-social, just a-social, quiet and sulky. I get these moods once in a while and usually just have to wait them out.

I busied myself later by making my weekly run to Wal-Mart and engaging in a couple of other banal chores.

By Saturday evening the mood had subsided and I was coasting along in neutral. I looked forward to a pleasant meal at a nice place.

The Place:

The parking lot was pretty full but there were several good tables still available. I was pleased to see that Taytro’s hadn’t gone nuts decorating for the over-hyped holiday season. A single string of small lights entwined with a grapevine above the bar, I wasn’t even certain that it was holiday related.

We were led to a table in the front corner, a table that was too close to the occupied one next to it. We asked and were allowed to pull the table away. We sat and were told that Heather would be serving us.

The place, even near the window, was dimly lit, which is usually a good thing. Then we were handed the menus. There was a problem. The menus were black and lettered with small white type. Very classy, but nearly impossible for two middle-aged, bifocal-prescribed patrons. Angel and I struggled to read the thing. Adam helped translate, though his inherited eyesight wasn’t a lot better.

The offerings had changed a little since we were last there, maybe, some things seemed to be missing, though we could not recall exactly what.

There were specials being added to the chalkboard as we arrived. Fish and Chips and Chicken Picatta stir fry.

Taytro’s makes po’ boys, a great, simple sandwich. The  more I thought about it though, the more the fish and chips sounded pretty good.

The Food:

  Angel’s choice was hardly surprising. Crawfish Etouffee. Adam chose the Buffalo Chicken Po’boy with chips, I ordered the fish and chips with fries instead of chips which is what fish and chips actually means. In Great Britain, which is somewhere between England and the United Kingdom, ‘fish and chips’ is peasant food, street food, meant to be eaten on the go, like a hoot dog.  This is an important characteristic of the offering that I will get back to later.  Anyway the first fish and chip shop opened in London in 1860. This fact surprised me since I thought Long John Silver's had invented fish and chips sometime in the 1970’s, that's where I first heard of it anyhow.
For some stupid reason, the British call French fries ‘chips’. This is not really surprising however since the British are quite happy to butcher the language for no good reason. What we, God-fearing, freedom loving Americans call ‘chips’ are stubbornly referred to as crisps’ in the UK, even though the word ‘crisps’ sounds silly and is quite cumbersome to pronounce. An ‘s’ followed by a hard ‘p’ and then another ‘s’. It’s just much more oral calisthenics that is necessary. Go ahead, say the word. It’s a lot of work.

Angel got a salad with her meal, I did not. Too bad, Taytro’s salads are quite tasty, the house poppy seed dressing is rather sweet, though the salad is not drowned by it.

They also decided on fried ravioli, that St. Louis area staple, as an appetizer. I like it okay, but I’m not nuts for it. I had three.

To make them you take or make meaty, cheesy ravioli and boil it like you normally would. Then you let it dry a little, bread  and deep fry. Why deep fry? Because, like I said, this is America! They turn out as crispy finger food. Traditionally they are served with a marinara sauce for dipping.

Buffalo Chicken Po' Boy

Our drinks arrived before the appetizers and salads, as they should. Tea for me, Diet Coke for the lady, and root beer for the boy. The tea was actually quite good, a rare occurrence in the area.

Overhead the flat screens played sports, real sports, women’s volleyball. This was a college match and was taking place on a hard surface indoors. That of course takes a little something away from the purest form of the game, namely the skimpy bikinis that are worn by the beach-version contenders. It was still far better than football, baseball, basketball or that bewilderingly popular non-sport NASCAR.

The appetizers and salad came and went quickly. Quite good.

The place continued to fill at a regular pace. It was good to see a locally owned and operated joint doing so well.

The plates finally arrived. Angel’s etouffee was just as expected. Two bright red crawdads sitting atop a brown, saucy stew and two dollops of rice. Adam’s sandwich and chips looked good, he’d ordered his without onion and they complied.

Crawfish Etouffee

 My fish and chips looked. . . off… somehow. Small chunks of cod lightly breaded, fried and mixed among a plateful of fries, a small metal ramekin of sauce on the side. 

I’m used to fish, when served as fish and chips, to be thin filets, heavy-battered, fried crisp with the thick fried batter holding the flaky fish together, like at Long John Silver’s and every other place I’ve ever had fish and chips.

Then things started falling apart, literally. I picked up the first chunk of fish and the breading slipped right off, like knickers off a trollop . The cod flaked off and fell into the dipping sauce. I ended up using a fork to get it all out. The rest of the nuggets proved to be just as much a struggle.

Fish and Chips

The taste of the fish itself was bland. Not bad, in fact the amount of cooking was perfect, the fish moist and flaky but it had no flavor and the light breading offered up. . .nothing. The dipping sauce was wrong, all wrong. It was not tartar sauce, it was something else. Not sweet, sort of savory and maybe made with chipotle.  The taste of the sauce, the texture and frail mechanics of the fish made for a disappointing meal for me.
Angel and Adam though were quite pleased. Angel disassembled the crawdads and slurped down the luscious meaty bits. “Good as always.” She sighed. Adam’s only remark was about the amount of bread on his sandwich: “Too bread-y.”

Summary:

We really like this place. Most everything they serve is excellent. The service is great, the atmosphere is cozy and friendly, and Taytro’s offers dishes that no one else around does. The bill came to a reasonable $46.59.
My gripes about the fish and chips are serious, but not bad enough to keep me from going back. They offer many things I like quite well, I just thought I’d mix it up on this visit. I cannot recommend the fish and chips, it simply doesn’t work as served. Perhaps a more traditional approach would be better, and there’s really nothing wrong with plain tartar sauce.

Munzert's

10857 Business 21
Hillsboro, Mo

We wanted a good, solid meal. We chose Munzert’s.

The Place:

Awful tea.

Across Highway B from the Hillsboro Mall (Dollar General). The parking lot was filling in, but not quite full. We stepped in and noticed something odd. Munzert’s has a bar area to the left and a dining area to the right. The dining area was empty and blocked by an impenetrable barrier consisting of two high chairs. Apparently someone had rented out the entire main dining room.We were led to the left, around a pool table, several large video game, a crowded bar and to a booth in the back. The place was packed. It was also stuffy, and very loud. This is also Munzert’s smoking allowed section, and it reeked. A half dozen ceiling fans were spinning at full speed, to no avail, the foul air just moved in swirls from one place to another. We decided to tough it out anyhow. For all those that claim ambiance doesn’t really matter that much I’d love to have had you along for this fiasco.

“I prefer the other side.” Posited Adam in a very rare display of unsolicited commentary.

After we were seated and handed our menus by the hostess, another lady took our drink orders. I regretted my decision almost immediately, un-sweet tea with lemon. Angel asked for a Diet Coke and Adam a regular Coke. I recalled that Munzert’s tea was not very good in the past and had no reason to expect it to be any better this time.

The Food:

Dinner Salad

Angel announced earlier that she was after the fried chicken. I was unsure at first. I looked over the steaks, I always get steaks at this place, they’re very good. I also looked at the burgers but they all seemed too big. I then noticed that below Angel’s favorite half-chicken plate they offered a two-piece chicken plate with two sides, so I decided on that. I knew I wanted the German fried potatoes, I also opted for a dinner salad. German fried potatoes are thick potato slices fried with lots and lots of onions. In the fried potato war, I choose German over French without hesitation.

As expected, Angel ordered the half-chicken saying she'd happily be taking half of it home in a box. She really likes the chicken. She added a Caesar salad and German fries.

Half Chicken + German fries

Adam surprised me by choosing a chicken and penne pasta plate, mashed potatoes on the side, with gravy. Yeah, pasta with a side of mashed potatoes.
The salads were somewhat slow to arrive, but they were quite good; fresh and crisp and not too large. Adam stole his mom’s crackers and maybe a crouton or two. In the meantime the noise grew louder and the stench stronger. Adam was covering his face.

The wait for the main course was even longer. The wait staff seemed disorganized and off-kilter. Drinks were refilled in a timely manner, for what it was worth, the tea was simply awful. Water next time.

2 piece Chicken + German fries

By the time the plates arrived we were ready, ready to leave. The noise and the smell were getting to us. I’d like to say the food made up for it all, but it didn’t. By the time the meals arrived our senses were clogged, saturated. The food was good as long as I concentrated on tasting it. The potatoes were crisp and onion-y, the chicken, lightly breaded, crispy and moist. The chicken was also very, very hot, I had to cut it open and let it cool off before I could start tearing away at it.  When the plates were delivered we were told that the rolls would be there soon, they’d had to make some. That was the last we heard of the rolls, we never saw any.

Chicken/bacon penne

We asked how Adam liked his pasta. Actually we shouted the question. “It has bacon!” he smiled. No wonder he ordered that particular dish. Sure enough mixed in to the creamy sauce and penne noodles were luscious bacon bits.

Summary:

If you can’t say something nice, at least keep it short and to the point. Is my philosophy. Well, for the sake of this review anyhow.

I usually like Munzert’s I really do, but if this had been my first experience I would almost certainly never have gone back.
The waitress seemed to sense our discomfort and displeasure and offered an apology about the service. By then of course, it was too late. I rushed her through the process of payment by asking for the check then having my card ready when she brought it. Another lady brought us two take-out boxes. Angel and Adam spared no time scraping their extra food into them. We got out of there as soon as we could, relishing in the quiet and fresh air outside.
I had a headache from the noise. Angel and Adam were suffering for air.

We have decided that if this is the only option on subsequent visits to this or any other bar/grill then we will just go elsewhere. Not that we believe our health was in immediate danger, the jury’s still out on that for non-asthmatic folks, but because the smell permeated everything, including our taste buds.

    The price was very reasonable. A steak, which I usually get  is kind of pricy here, but with two chicken dinners and a pasta dish the bill came in at a very reasonable $33. I didn't tip very much though. On this night the service was far less than ideal and there were no rolls. To fail to deliver a twice-promised component of the meal, even something as simple as bread, is a serious error.

Soapbox Time:

There have been many communities in the area, as well as all over the country, passing ordinances to ban smoking in restaurants and in some cases, bars. I’ve never really supported that. I always thought that owners should be able to make the smoking/non-smoking choice for themselves, customers could vote with their feet and purses. I still feel that way. I could have easily turned around and left and dined somewhere else.

As for the employees, well, my thought on that is this. I don’t like watercraft and I am at best, a lousy swimmer, therefore I have never sought out a job on a cruise ship or merchant vessel. I don’t like confined spaces, especially underground, so I am not a miner.  There are many restaurants, even in our little area, that do not allow smoking indoors. If you want to, or have to wait tables, you still have options. If you are bothered by smoke, you may seriously want to reconsider seeking employment in a sports bar in rural Missouri.

Courthouse Grill

250 1st. Street
Hillsboro, Mo.

On Facebook

 

The Place:

It had been a few weeks since our first visit to this new place, time to see if they’d settled in. We had a few minor issues then, the free-range seating, the fatty steaks, the ignored customers.  These are all things that are easily fixable.

It was still neat and attractive, the walls uncluttered though still a terrible shade of baby-sh&#! green. 

There were not as many patrons this time, which didn’t surprise me. On our last visit there was a truck/tractor event at the fairgrounds, this time, not. The average age of the diners in attendance skewed toward advanced middle age to full blown senior citizens. Most were in groups of four or more.

We stepped in and stood. I wanted to see what happened next. Last time someone just called out for us to sit anywhere. This time, not. One young lady grabbed some menus and pointed to a table near the door, pretty much where we were standing.  I think it was the same table as last time.

At the other end of the room, above and to the left of the bar, a single TV was on, tuned to GAC. That stands for ‘Great American Country’. ‘GAC’ is also the exact sound I repeatedly make when I have to watch it. If there’s anything worse in my mind than contemporary country music it’s contemporary country music videos. And the only thing worse than those in the music industry is NON-contemporary country music.  Don’t take me wrong though, I have nothing against people who like country music, unless I have to be around them for more than a few minutes. It’s simply a matter of taste. I have some, people who listen to that twangy noise do not.

Fortunately the volume was set pretty low, and if I hummed quietly to myself I could drown out the heart-cheatin’ hard-drinkin’ honky-tonkin’ ballads and anthems.

By taking off my glasses the videos might as well have been infomercials.

Our waitress introduced herself and we were ready to rock and roll.

The Food:

Hot Wings

The menu was pleasantly uncomplicated. Sandwiches, steaks, seafood/pasta and salads. All the items were defined simply,  without unnecessary flourish. No snooty ‘pungent Corinthian balsamic oils’ here.  Salads contain lettuce, not lacy, petit, exotic greens. Adam and his mother were debating appetizers. I rarely get involved in those discussions. They settled on boneless hot wings.

Our drink order was taken, Tea, Dr. Pepper, and Pepsi. As the drinks were delivered in licensed St. Louis Rams glasses, Becky took the appetizer order. I spent the intervening time not watching GAC. This is harder than it sounds. I changed my mind a few times as I looked through the menu. The Courthouse Grill names many of their sandwiches kitschy court-themed names like ‘The Defender’, ‘The Prosecutor’ and ‘The Judge.’ I initially wanted a BLT. However, they call their BLT  a BLT, no originality. So I settled on The Defender.

The Defender is a 6 oz. ribeye sandwich served on buttered Texas toast. I sided it with the shoestring fries, which is what you order if you want regular fries. Adam asked for the Frisco burger, which I’d considered until I saw that it had two big patties. That seemed a bit much to me. He also ordered the fries.

Angel went off the reservation. She blamed the spicy hot wings and settled on a ‘Courthouse’ salad. She asked for it to be topped with 4 oz. flat iron steak. Becky happily took the order and scurried off.

The 'salad'

The wings were indeed hot. Both Adam and Angel commented on the heat, they didn’t need to. The red faces and sniffling was all I needed to know that I’d made the right choice in not having any. I’ve yet to find a hot wing I like, anywhere.

The wait was not long, about right, Angel and Adam couldn’t finish the wings. Becky refilled drinks in a timely manner. GAC was still on TV. Yet another hunky cowboy was kicking up some dust with his rugged pickup truck as the skinny, bosomy blonde in painted on Daisy Dukes shakes her head in shame at his misbehavin’ ways.

The food arrived. The first thing we noticed was the enormity of Angel’s salad. It was enormous. Piled high and deep, there was at least a half pound of shredded bacon piled up on one side. There’s no way any reasonable nutrition law would allow this beast to be considered a salad. Surely there are standards for that sort of thing.

Frisco Burger

The sandwiches were simply gorgeous. Adam plucked the offending onions off of his, I piled mine high. I added a touch of A1 sauce to mine, Adam added a little ketchup to his. Angel slathered about a cup and a half of sickly sweet French dressing on her trough of food.

I rolled back the bun on my ribeye sandwich and checked for excess fat. It wasn’t as bad as Adam had the last time we were here, but it was still prominent. At least the steak was tender. The crispy Texas toast was perfect for it. The combination of buttered toast and fatty grilled steak had me harking back to my days on the cattle drives, just me and my horse and  Cookie, with his clattering chuck wagon. Yahoo!  (I don’t hark back often, but when I do it’s usually to a fictional event.)

The Defender

About halfway through his large burger, Adam gave up. Too much meat. Not just in size, the two patties was exactly the reason I didn’t order it myself. There was too much meat for the seasoning. Adam said that after a while it was pretty tasteless.  Ground beef really doesn’t have a strong flavor, and if too lightly seasoned, after a while it simply becomes a chewing exercise. My ribeye was somewhat of a physical workout as well, it required a little more pull and chew than I am accustomed to. It wasn’t bad, just a lot of work. Late into the feast someone switched the TV from GAC (Gack!) to the Mizzou/Alabama football game. This was an improvement, though only in the way that an hour in line at the DMV is an improvement over an hour and a half. I’m not a big football fan and my own alma mater doesn’t even have a football team… I don’t think, I’ll have to check on that.*

Summary:

The County Courthouse in Hillsboro.
That sign is actually for a law firm, but the
way this picture was framed it looks like it's
for the court, where serious felony walk-ins
are welcome.
The 'Boyer for Sheriff' sign is what I was actually
Trying to capture. I'm a big fan of the Sheriff.

It may sound like we didn’t enjoy it, but mostly we did. The Courthouse Grill is a great addition to the community. They’ve made some progress and established a customer base and the food is pretty good. Becky was a delight, she refilled us and checked on us frequently, always smiling, very polite. The service, specifically hers in this case, certainly won some points.

The tab came in at $44.62, tax included. Not real bad, but enough that I’d wished the food was just a smidgen better. This place is certainly of better quality and atmosphere than a fast food joint. The fact that it is locally owned is great, and like I said, the service was exceptional. I have a feeling that this place will do quite well.

 

Quiznos

12676 Lamplighter Square
Saint Louis, MO 63128

http://www.quiznos.com

The Place:

We had decided to try Quiznos nearly a full week ahead of time. We saw a commercial and the ensuing conversation revealed that none of us had ever tried it, or if we had, we had no recollection of it. Odd perhaps, as Quiznos are relatively ubiquitous (4000 U.S. locations), but not so much in Jefferson County.

We’d all previewed the menu and had a good idea of what to order. The main difference between Subway and Quiznos is the default style. A sandwich at Quiznos is toasted unless you specifically ask for it to not be.

This one is located in Concord, one of the hundreds of St. Louis suburbs, and one I drive through each workday since it straddles highway 21 (Tesson Ferry)  near St. Anthony’s Hospital. It’s in a shopping center that also hosts a dozen or so shops that I have no use for.

It takes about twenty to twenty five minutes to get there from our rural compound as opposed to the fifteen to twenty minutes it takes to get to Festus where most of our reviewed eateries reside.

We entered and were immediately greeted by a woman who seemed to be having a good day. It only took her a moment to qualify us.

“You never been here before?” She asked.

“No we haven’t”

This pleased her, she pointed out the mounted menus, told us what was new, and added that we should take our time and feel free to ask questions. I was already set, Angel shifted from what she’d thought she was going to get, Adam stood by quietly.

The Food:

BLT Sliders for me, French Dip (5 inch) for Angel, and a Mesquite Chicken (8 inch) for Adam. We each grabbed a bag of chips and that was it. I asked to see the size of the sliders, the lady showed me the rolls and I said I’d need two of them. “That’s the way the order comes.” She replied.

Angel settled up as I checked out the reasonable and sane drink dispenser and well appointed and neat condiment bar. Adam handed me a cup and I went straight for the unsweetened tea. It poured clear and warm, immediately melting the shallow pile of ice I’d put in the cup. I sipped it and was quite pleased. It had body, flavor and seemed fresh.

We sat and sipped for a couple of minutes. More customers passed through, most opting for to-go.

The lady engaged us a few more times, asking where we were from. “Oh, Jefferson County!” She exclaimed as if I’d said ‘Uzbekistan’. Concord is only about three miles from the Meramec River, the river that separates St. Louis County from Jefferson.

It was not long at all before our sandwiches were ready. One thing was immediately obvious, we’d be snacking later. The sandwiches were smaller than we’d imagined but not necessarily in a bad way. It was the bread that was smaller.

BLT Sliders

Subway is pretty good and we have one in Hillsboro. That’s right, Hillsboro has a Subway, a McDonalds, a Taco Bell , Hardees and Dairy Queen, but it has no public Library. That’s a problem I’m trying to help resolve by serving on the campaign committee to establish a branch of the Jefferson County Library. (subtle eh?)

Anyway, Subway to me is pretty good, and I’m certainly not unhappy when instead of cooking a meal, as a good wife should, that Angel just brings home a sub for me. I have always found them to be a bit too bready though. I like the bread, there’s just so much of it that I usually strip the stuff from inside out and leave some bread behind.

French Dip

Quiznos does not have this problem. The bread is not only more reasonably proportioned, it’s quite good and it is toasted by default. Even the slider rolls were crunchy on the outside.

The bacon was all broken up in my sliders, a nice touch. Some BLT’s put entire whole strips in their sandwiches, which often leads to dragging out an entire strip in one bite. The blend of tomato, lettuce and mayo was just right. You don’t have to put a lot of bacon on a BLT. Bacon is so strong and distinct it is often just as satisfying to have a little, spread around evenly, than try to compensate with quantity. I shy away from places that brag about how much bacon they put on sandwiches and burgers, Those places just don’t know how to treat bacon properly.

Mesquite Chicken

“That indeed is toasty.” Adam declared spontaneously. Which is probably the longest spontaneous comment Adam has made in the three years we've been doing these things. (yes, three years and over 150 reviews!)

This prompted Angel to make an assessment as well about her French dip, served with steamy au jus. “Everything’s better with au jus.”

Adam responded as if on cue: “Bless you.” (get it? ‘au jus’ sounds like achoo!). This is always funny.

I was thoroughly enjoying my sliders and chips. Adam finished his sandwich rather quickly and shared his ‘Sun Chips’ with his mother. They discussed them for a moment while I ignored the irrelevant conversation. I’m rather a purist about chips, plain, ruffled and barbecue. Civilization would be just fine without all the others. I have tried many others, I just don’t see the need. Like Ice cream, I ‘m not impressed with ‘103 flavors!’ since I can do quite well with the three original flavors that God created; vanilla, chocolate and chocolate swirl. All else is just gilding the lily.

As we were eating, a pair of women strolled in. They seemed familiar to the staff. One was older than the other but both were dressed in very tight jeans and boots, with form featuring tops and the younger one sported multi-hued hair and a furry, shaggy purse. The older one had long blonde hair, too long for a woman her age. I immediately knew what was up.

“Mother daughter prostitute team.” I whispered to Angel and Adam.

Angel immediately objected to my assessment of the pair. “They are not prostitutes!” She scolded. I dismissed this since she never accepts that any of the women I point to as being prostitutes are actually that. She simply doesn't know what one looks like so her defense of them is meaningless. I've pointed out literally hundreds of prostitutes, and to a one, she’s denied it every time.

“They just look like they went to Nordstrom’s. She countered, as if that would mean something to me. “I don’t know what a Nordsorm is, but I don’t see it as being relevant. I've been to Korea so I know what a prostitute looks like.” I countered, clearly winning the argument. A few moments after the women left, an SUV drove by the window, inside were the 'ladies'.

“Prostitutes don’t drive Mercedes SUV’s.” she said, pathetically trying to save face.

“The good ones do.” I flattened her, game, set, match.

We wadded up our wrappers and tidied up our table. The lady in charge came up to us, thanking us for about the fifth time. “We have chili.” She said. She was very good at reading people. Our reaction to that made her smile. “It’s very good, would you like to try some?”

“YES!!” I whispered.

She stepped behind the counter and dipped some into a little plastic cup, handing it to us along with two spoons. She’d read our collective reactions well enough to notice Adam didn't seem interested.

It was very hot, and once it cooled, very good. Meaty, with large red kidney beans, which Angel pointed out since she knows I’m a big fan of the big red beans. I tasted it. Multiple flavors, rich, brothy, and just a bit spicy. Angel and I shared it all the way to the bottom. Then we both sniffled. Just that much had cleared our sinuses which had been reacting to some sort of vile airborne spores all day.

“We could get some to go.” Angel suggested. I declined. Not because it wasn't good, it was very good. It’s just that the previous night I’d made a small batch of chili and ate too much and it had stayed with me too long, well past bedtime. I’ll certainly go back for more sometime.

Summary:

They're pretty generous with coupons!
Free Sub (with purchase of another)

Very, very good, very, very satisfying. The very reasonable tab came in under twenty five dollars.

The bread was exceptional and was deemed better than subway because of its proportionality. The ingredients all seemed fresh, the service was beyond good.

The lady engaged us several times, but with genuine enthusiasm, not salesman-like at all. She seemed proud of the place and its offerings, and quite happy to be at her post. Even the young man in back carving the meat was friendly and casual.

The food was great, the tea was fresh and excellent, the entire experience was without flaw. Sure it’s a sandwich shop and not some fancy sit-down Italian restaurant, but it was by all measure great for what it was.

I wish there was one closer to home, though I now know since I pass right by it every work day, that I can stop in and get good service, really good food, for not much money. I like Subway just fine, but Quiznos is just better.