Trattoria Giuseppe

5442 Old Missouri 21
Imperial, MO 63052

On the web


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

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

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

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

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

Fountain City Grill

302 N. Main Street
Desoto, Mo.
On the web
Facebook

One of our favorite places. Angel suggested it, no debate occurred.
A pretty early Spring day, I'd had a chance to do my first cemetery visit this season. It was a bit sad though, this was a county paupers cemetery. Only one headstone among scores of unmarked, budget-friendly graves, buried by county maintenance crews, cardboard coffins, no attempt to pretty up the place. It looked more like an abandoned construction site than a cemetery.
But the sun was out, the birds were in full voiced lust since early morning.
The drive into Desoto was pretty quiet. No particular reason for that, just that the three of us are quite comfortable with prolonged periods of silence.
The Place:
There was only one other table occupied when we arrived, it wasn't quite 5 P.M. though. It would fill up in no time.
The place is absolutely classy looking. This wasn't decorated and designed by somebody's in-laws as a favor, this was professionally done. A modest jazz theme, black on white decor and furnishings, on a polished oak floor.
We were told to sit anywhere, so we did. Angel found us a four top in the back, by the bar.
Above the bar, two TV's were mounted, one with volume up, though not too loud, CNN, some lady pundit whining about something or the other. The other was muted and showing, of all things, basketball. Who would imagine that you could find a college basketball game on TV in March?
We were immediately greeted by a cheerful looking Jenna.
She dropped off menus and a basket of rolls, wrapped in a fluffy black hand towel. We quietly shouted our drink request, I asked for fresh brewed tea, unsweet. Angel looked at me oddly, I pointed to the front page of the menu where it listed, right there in black and white, 'Fresh Brewed Tea',
She then ordered the sweet version, Adam asked for pop.
The Food:

I had studied ahead of time, I was going to do something a bit different.
Last time, about six months ago I had an awesome grilled pork chop. I'd had the steak there before as well.
Angel pointed to the appetizer section, noting the 'Duck Spring Rolls'. We've been trying to find duck served somewhere, this sounded like a good start. Adam would have nothing to do with duck, so we asked for toasted ravioli as well.
The tea came quickly, Jenna was on her toes. Well, mostly. She turned around after taking our order and ran smack in to another table. "That table is never there!" She explained, while Chef Tremayne stood there and laughed out loud.
We'd met the chef on previous visits. A class act, a real pro. A seriously good kitchen master and friendly and easy to laugh as well.
Jenna bounced back in no time though. The appetizers came out in just a few minutes.

Beautiful little spring rolls, served with two sauces. One a sweet and spicy, the other one spicier and more Asian in seasoning and flavor. I stuck with the sweet and spicy. There was a distinct crispiness to them, no greasiness at all. As a good spring roll should be, it was light. The duck was ground and blended with mild seasoning and herbs. It definitely wasn't chicken or pork, but since we don't know what duck is supposed to taste like, we just agreed we liked them. We left the ravioli for Adam, we already knew they were good, we'd reviewed them before.
We ordered our entrees.
Me: Bacon cheeseburger and fries.
Angel: Sirloin steak, garlic mashed potatoes, house salad.
Adam ordered the Blazin' Burger, described as: Fresh ground beef mixed with a fiery blend of seasonings, topped with grilled onions, jalapenos and pepperjack cheese. "No onions or peppers, please." Adam told Jenna. Adam likes spicy, but not over the top spicy.
Yeah, a burger. Since I'd had more exercise that day than I'd had in several months, I had an afternoon snack. I wasn't ready for a steak or a big pasta dish. I knew the burgers at FCG were thin, so I could probably handle that.

Angel's steak order was a little unexpected. I surmised she was in full carnivore mode this day. It happens.
As we waited, the same musical duet that had come in and set up at our previous visit came in and started setting up. Two guitars, a big set of bongos. "Sugar Moon", they call themselves. We'd be gone before they started, just like the last time.
We finished off our spring rolls, sat back and just relaxed.
Then the food came.
Just as expected, pretty. Square white, pristine plates, no sprigs of greens or glitter or swooshes of sauce. Even the burgers looked a little uptown served like that. Angel's steak and potatoes looked sparse and tidy.

FCG, by default, slathers mayo on hamburgers. When Jenna told me this I made a righteously offended face and grunting noise. "No mayo then?" She asked.
"I'm an American, don't you have mustard?"
"I could bring you some."
I let it go at that. Good enough, but seriously, do I look Canadian?
The burger was piled high with a lettuce I didn't recognize, it looked smaller and rougher edged than iceberg.It was also remarkably fresh and crisp. the tomato was a bit pale, understandable, off season. The two rings of red onion would be just about the perfect portion. The burgers are balled then smashed on the grill. You can always tell. The thinner edges get crispy and delicious that way. I put good ol' American yellow

mustard on it, smashed it closed, then cut it in half. It was bigger, for the lettuce, tomato, etc, than I had anticipated. The fries were thick and cooked just to the point of getting crispy. This meant they would have a soft inner texture, yet stand up when held. They were also searing hot.
Adam's burger was similar in appearance. He got rid of the tomato. The cheese on his was pepper-jack. As for the 'blazing' aspect, he said it was more Cajun tasting than anything else. This is not a bad thing for Adam.
We didn't hear much from Angel during the meal. She indeed was in full-carnivore mode. That steak was gone before I finished half my burger. Sure it was just an 8oz. sirloin, but it was thick. She'd ordered it medium rare and that is what it was. She made pleased grunting sounds the whole time. When she finished it, her plate looked like that place on the highway after the deer carcass has been recently hauled away. Knife still in her hand, I did not say anything to her about what I'd just witnessed her do to that steak and the peculiar vicious glimmer still in her eyes.
When she started using her words a few minutes later, she described the steak."Very tender, perfectly cooked."
I knew she liked it. When Jenna offered her steak sauce, Angel declined with a grunt. That's how you know when a steak is good, when you don't need to put any sauce on it.
Jenna stopped by, asked if we needed a third or fourth tea refill, we said no. She asked about dessert, we also said no thanks. Looking at my remaining half burger, she offered a box, that received an affirmative response. Indeed that afternoon snack had zapped my appetite.
Summary:
As I said at the start, Fountain City Grill is among our favorite places. That did not change with this visit. As I was boxing up the leftovers, Chef Tremayne stopped at each table and greeted everyone. I like this man. He's nothing like those hot headed chefs you see on TV. During our meal he even personally served one table their entrees, the growing crowd had started to tax Jenna, the only server on the floor.
The tab came to fifty seven bucks. Sports bar pricing, perfectly acceptable considering the quality of the food at FCG makes Applebees look like McDonalds in comparison.
Everything, except maybe the mayo on the burger, is exactly right about FCG. The service, the food, the offerings, the attention to detail and freshness, the casual, friendly service, all of it works beautifully.
As we left and were approaching the car We heard a voice from behind, calling us.
"You forgot your box, sir!" It was Chef Tremayne, running to hand me my leftovers.
Told you, a real class act.

Terrazza Grill

249 Arnold Crossroads
Arnold, Mo
On the Web
On Facebook
Adam told us about  this place, he's in Arnold more than the rest of us. I don't like Arnold, the roads make no sense. Being just across the river from St. Louis County, Arnold is more like suburban city than Jefferson County. Sure it's got lots of restaurants, shopping,etc. It also has more people, a lot more people, and their cars.
But once in a while we tunnel our way out of the back woods, gird our loins and head into this town to take advantage of its wider diversity of offerings.

The Place:
A towering stone facade welcomes you. This is no hidey-hole bistro. It is a beautiful modern building, inside and out, but it could just as well be a southwestern steak house as an Italian joint.
The vaulting ceilings and concrete floors, the dark-stained heavy tables and trim and rafters are artfully crafted, heavy and substantial, like a ski lodge. A large fireplace sits in the middle, within a stone framed chimney. We were greeted warmly and immediately led to the back, near the drink station, across from the bar.
The modern bar sported a frosted glass panel that changed color like those old aluminum Christmas trees with the revolving color disk. Angel was fascinated and soothed by it, saying she couldn't take her eyes off of it. I told her that there seemed to be a color for every one of her moods, they just didn't change as fast. It was pretty though.
There were some TV's on over the bar, we could only see one, it was showing NASCAR. Hours and hours of rough, fast traffic in tight, but competitive formation, each jostling for a better position. The occasional fender bender, a fire or two, noisy, monotonous. I don't watch NASCAR, it's too much like my daily commute.
This is a neatly-folded, white cloth napkin kind of place. Tidy, neat, upscale compared to our usual  haunts.
Terrazza Grill is owned and operated by the same family that has had fine restaurants (Lombardo's) in St. Louis since 1934. As such, it's menu boasts 3rd generation recipes. That of course includes the ubiquitous St. Louis appetizer, fried ravioli.
The Food:

Fried Ravioli

I'd previewed the menu. I'd pretty much decided ahead of time what I wanted but Scott, our waiter, spoiled it for me. As he deftly explained the day's specials I heard the words 'lobster ravioli' buzz by. This flushed my brain of everything else. We'd already asked for our drinks, and were easily talked into the appetizer. I had tea, Angel asked for sweet tea, without ice, Adam a cola. Angel likes her tea without ice in colder weather.
The tea was excellent, at least a +4.5.
Scott came around again later and we placed our orders. Me: Lobster Ravioli and house salad, Angel, the Eggplant Parmesan and Adam manned up and ordered the Filet Mignon, 8 oz. with a baked potato. He'd wanted mashed potatoes, but apparently only the Sunday chef knew how to make those.
A basket of rolls were delivered and soon the appetizer was presented. Pretty, very pretty. A bit larger and thicker than store-bought ravioli. The frying gives it a toasty crunch. This was much thicker and meatier than the typical bar version of the stuff, TG is quite proud of them. We all thought they were pretty good. Not necessarily a lot better than other places, but they were certainly better than most. "Better than frozen" Angel said.

Lobster Ravioli

The salads came soon. I tore open a roll. It was lighter than it looked, definitely fresh, also much better than frozen. The salads were pretty, fresh greens of two or three types, red onion rings, and lots of white cheese. This was not common, deli counter cheese, this too was obviously a cut above. The dressing was conservatively applied and blended in with, rather than altered the taste of the fresh salad ingredients. Pretty good, definitely fresh and crisp, but not really Italian-y, if that is what they were going for.

Eggplant Parmesan 

It wasn't long before the entrees arrived. Clean, tidy plates, slightly garnished offerings. My five lobster raviolis were again large and plump, swimming in a creamy sauce. Angel's eggplant parm was served on a bed of angel-hair pasta and topped with cheese and the rich, bright tomato sauce we'd had with the appetizer. She offered a chunk, I accepted. "Doesn't even taste like a vegetable." She said of the eggplant. "Yes, yes it does." I responded, explaining that I could tell it wasn't meat or fish, it had the texture of squash.
 It did not have the taste I associate with such things, the eggplant itself didn't seem to have a distinct taste at all, but I could tell it was veg rather than meat. It wasn't bad at all, the

Filet Mignon

sauce and cheese blend was quite good. Then Adam offered me a pretty good chunk of his steak. It was plump, beautifully charred and the taste was spot-on. No heavy sauces needed, just a really good cut of quality beef, salted, peppered and grilled. TG had performed this plate perfectly. I carved into the ravioli, they were big enough that each needed to be cut into three to be eaten without looking porcine-like in habits. There was definitely lobster, seasoned simply, and the sauce did not overwhelm it. The pasta was thick, maybe a little doughy in spots, but not far from perfect. After the salad and the roll, I thought finishing the pasta would be a snap, It wasn't I only made it halfway through the fourth one when I had to call it quits. By this time Angel and Adam had already finished.
Summary:
The food was quite good, maybe even better. Angel appreciated that we were not served pounds and pounds of pasta. There was enough to act as a vessel for the sauce, and to fill us, but not enough that it would be wasted. The sauces themselves were excellent, the marinara sweet, fresh and not over-spiced, nothing was too garlic-y, too salty. The steak was perfect, the eggplant sliced pasta thin, the ravioli was plump and filled with fresh lobster. The service was top-notch, Scott didn't miss a beat. The folks refreshing the drinks remembered that Angel didn't want ice.
Angel also said that this was easily her second favorite Italian place. The biggest differences between number one, Trattoria Giuseppe in Imperial and Terrazza grill was the salad, Giuseppe serves up a more Mediterranean version with olives and artichoke hearts, and the ambiance. Giuseppe's is smaller, tighter, older, the floors slant a little, but it feels more like an Italian Bistro  than the new, modern, urban Terrazza Grill. Other than that though, she said they were pretty close.
The bill was an impressive eighty three dollars, about the same as we spend at Giuseppe's. The food matched the price though. This is not an every day dinner place for most of us, but it certainly is the kind of place if you want something special, something a cut or twelve above most eateries.

Taytro's

I'd been craving a steak.
We went out on Sunday this time, Saturday we had stayed in and hosted the doggy birthday party. We do this every year on, and instead of, our anniversary. We've run out of ideas for gifts for each other, so we set the day to be all of our dogs' birthdays. This works out well since some of our dogs, all of them rescued, have no known birthday, or for a couple of them, no actual known birth year. So we made one up.

Pip and George desire a burger.

         This weekend Bailey turned 14, George 9, Blue 8, Deedee 5 and Pip 4.
The neatest part of the tradition is that whatever other dogs happen to be at our house, and that can vary from two fosters through a half dozen board and training clients, they get burgers and fries from McDonalds.
I mentioned this on Facebook and one of my so-called 'friends', also a follower of these pages, commented: 'McDonalds?'
 I replied:
Yes, McD's. I realize that I have given the place bad reviews and several negative comments, but I don't have a dog's taste buds... They absolutely love the stuff. I don't know why, but they also seem to like the smell/taste of their own 'backsides'.... What does that say?
So that was Saturday. On Sunday I wanted steak.
Angel and Adam decided on Taytro's and insisted I was in on that conversation, I don't recall it, but I was not disappointed.
The Place:
On the hill in Festus. Busy, bustling. We had to park well away from the entrance.

Ravioli appetizer

Most of the tables were full, and the bar was half full. There was a 'seat yourself' sign up, so we did, right in the middle of the dining area. It's not a big place, but they didn't cram too many tables together.
Menus were delivered, drinks asked for, tea, sweet tea and Coke. The lady rattled off the specials, one sounded pretty good. Angel and Adam also went for an appetizer, the ubiquitous fried ravioli.
A large family (not individually large, just large in number) at the table next to us bowed their head and said grace. I thought it a bit odd in this bar, this den of iniquity. Well, maybe not total iniquity, a lot of families eat there as it turns out, but it is a bar.
The Food:
I asked for the special, a 12 oz. Philly Steak with peppers, onions, mushrooms and a savory sauce. I asked for the salad with the wonderful poppy seed house dressing, and snap peas for the side. No potato this time, I wanted to eat a lot of steak.
Adam went with the diner burger, no onions please, and fries, Angel predictably asked for the crawfish etouffee again, with a salad.
The ravioli arrived, I skipped it. I wanted steak, no need filling up on empty deep-fried carbs beforehand. Angel and Adam didn't seem to mind that I was skipping the crispy meat filled pasta, "More for us." one of them muttered.
They did a thorough job, no argument came up until there was only one left.
The salads arrived, I donated the big white bread croutons to Adam. A pretty simple salad of lettuce, spinach, red onions, some shredded white cheese and an entire cherry tomato. The dressing is killer, a sweet poppy seed vinaigrette concoction created in-house. I had to use the knife to cut up the onions and most of the greens, not too much of a problem, though a slight nuisance. Sure, onion rings are pretty, but I can't stick a whole one into my mouth at one time.

Steak!

Otherwise it was quite good, up until two thirds into it when . . .
The entree's arrived. I hate that. I don't know what the proper serving protocol actually is, but I really like to finish one thing before another is delivered. However, there was a bright spot in this arrangement.
Adam opened his no-onions-please burger and realized he should have ordered it no onions or tomato instead. Two big fat and pretty tomato slices on top of his bacon. He slid them off and laid them into my salad plate. "Happy Father's Day" he said. I was quite pleased. Taytro's is kind of stingy with tomatoes in their salads, and I love tomatoes.

Crawfish Etouffee

My steak was sizzling, I knew that wouldn't last. It was a monster, edge to edge in one direction on the plate. Beside it were some of the greenest sauteed snap peas I've ever seen, in a little ramekin of their own. The steak was smothered in a thin sauce, chunks of peppers, onions and mushrooms aplenty. I took the steak knife to the crusty southern point of the meat, felt a little fat and gristle. The taste was superb though. Grilled, a little char, still pink, and soaked with that sauce, simply great tasting.
A few bites in though, the gristle was still there. I'm not sure what cut a Philly steak actually is, though in places it seemed more like' filly', as in horse.
I was not having any problems eating most of the steak. I still didn't finish it, it was huge, but it was quite meaty and tasty. The only thing I'd change in the future will be the cut of meat. A couple extra bucks would be worth it.

Diner burger, no onions

The snap peas were okay, I prefer them raw though, sauteing them seemed to bring out the 'green' taste. I could only manage to eat a few.
Angel couldn't quite finish all the rice in her etouffee, the grains expanded in her tummy to the size of packing peanuts, she said. She did manage to strip the crawdad carcasses bare though. She loves the stuff, simply loves it.
Adam left nothing behind. He fussed a bit with the arrangement of the bacon on the top of the burger, but it all disappeared.

Summary:
The bill: $58.51
I love Taytro's. However there are a couple of minor points about this trip that I must bring up. First, the timing of the entree, too soon after the delivery of the salad. Secondly, when we were done, and after the waitress had taken away most of the plates and was then told that yes, we'd like the check, she disappeared.
This is not actually true. It's a small place so she didn't actually drop out of site, she just ignored us for several minutes. She was behind the bar chatting up a couple of guys. It wasn't flirty, just bartender-talk. I resorted to trying to get her attention, then just staring at her, fidgeting restlessly in my chair. She finally noticed, rang up the check and delivered it without offering so much as a simple 'sorry!'
Thinking she might disappear again, rather than just accepting the check, I handed her my powerful debit card. It's a trick I learned on this quest. Sometimes, at some places,  the time lag between them delivering the check and then coming back around to take the card can extend into several minutes of unnecessary overtime.
Also, that cut of meat, the Philly, is not quite worth the premium price. I believe the 12 oz. ribeye cost about the same.
The food was prepared very well though. Taytro's menu is not expansive, but mostly what they prepare is very good.

Zia's on the Hill (Food Truck)

(314) 776-0020

http://www.zias.com

This truck, according to my delightful, witty, intelligent and handsome boss, Larry (not his real name), is the best of the bunch. He recommended a dish and apologized for not being available for this visit. He claimed he had a ‘business meeting’ which in management terminology could mean just about anything.

The Truck:

Brightly colored, like other contemporary trucks. This one had the rear door open, to ventilate I imagine, it was a rather hot day. They've been rolling for a little less than a year now. They're an extension of a well established and popular place downtown. Inside the truck was dark, the two men manning it busy and sweaty. The smell was heavenly. Garlic, oil, mmmmmm….  A line formed quickly.

I spotted two ladies from work, Loretta and Lee, whose names I was asked not to mention, so I won’t. They had been to the truck before and seemed rather positive about it. A few minutes later Doug and Rob showed up.

The posted menus were clear and to the point, everything under ten dollars. Also clearly noted was ‘cash only’. I was prepared for this, I’d done some research. Photos of the truck on the interwebs showed this. I know ATM/Credit cards are somewhat of a hassle, but even my wife takes cards. She has a “Square” device for her smartphone, the same device 'Completely Sauced' used. It only takes a moment. Sure there’s a cut to the bank and a tiny one to Square, but the fact that lots of people don’t carry around much cash anymore makes it worth it in volume. Just sayin’. Yes there's an ATM in one of our buildings, so I'm told, it's just a matter of who you want to pass off the inconvenience/cost to.

The Food:

Larry had recommended the portabella mushroom ravioli. I decided to test his judgment. Zia’s truck offered salads, sandwiches and a couple other pastas. Loretta, (I’m sorry, I meant to say ‘one lady I talked to’.) said she’d had the ravioli before and was pleased with it but was going to try the penne primavera this time. Lee (ooops! ‘another lady’)  said she wanted the Chicago sandwich.

I stuck to my plan, not always a good idea, and charged ahead. The line moved quickly, orders and names were taken and those who were waiting formed a small group under a tree. The wait was not bad, five minutes or so.

The lidded plastic, earth-killing plate was very hot, the proprietor had warned me about it though. I headed alone back upstairs to my lovely and comfortable cubicle. Doug and Rob were still  in line.

I took off the lid. It was very, very pretty. The large raviolis, five of them were rather dull in color, but the sautéed tomatoes and asparagus made the serving pop with bright, fresh color. There was also some melted cheese and a layer of garlic-laden oil. The cheese was fine, and though the oil tasted good, made it taste Mediterranean. . . well, more on this later.

Rob and Doug came in a few minutes into my meal. Doug went through his cannelloni like a chainsaw through a kitten. He said that while pretty good, with a slightly sweet filling, the serving box was a problem. The steep sides kept him from being able to cut the big noodles very easily. He added that he was tempted just to eat the box. I didn't doubt this.

Rob had ordered the penne primavera as well. He said his was spicier than expected, but very good. There were no significant complaints from either of them.

I finished mine up, pushing aside most of the asparagus. It wasn’t bad, but I just don’t see the fuss about this particular veggie. It has very little taste, less so than a green bean, but top TV chef’s use it like it’s something spectacular. For me, it’s like artichoke, I just don’t get the ‘wow’ factor. I have to say though, the asparagus and tomatoes were sautéed perfectly. The asparagus still had some snap and the tomatoes had sweetened without turning to mush.  The ravioli was plenty-stuffed and perfectly cooked. The portabella shined, but didn’t overpower. 

I headed over to the nearby area of cubes to visit those ladies I mentioned earlier. I know them, but not very well, so I approached with caution and timidly announced my intentions. They seemed pleased, maybe even flattered, but I may have read it wrong, they may actually have been disgusted and angry, I don’t read people very well.

Though Loretta one of the ladies, the one who likes dogs, was slowly picking at her pasta dish, she said she was quite pleased with it. “It could use some more veggies though.”

Lee The other lady liked her sandwich except for the fact that the sauce had completely saturated the bottom side, turning it into a fork-food.

I asked the lady who likes dogs if she was bothered by the puddle of oil forming in the gutter of her plate.

I asked her this because mine had done the same thing.

“I think maybe that’s just an Italian food thing.” She replied. The other lady jumped in to praise the side salad, with its sweet and sour dressing.

They had no harsh remarks, pretty much just nice comments. I on the other hand was struggling to be positive. My meal had tasted fine. If anything it was a bit garlic-heavy, something I didn’t actually notice immediately. My real problem was the amount of oil. I had tilted my plate after finishing and a puddle of one or more tablespoons of oil formed quickly. I know the garlic oil sauce was supposed to add flavor, and it certainly did, but unfortunately as the oil cooled, which it always does and rather quickly in a flimsy plastic dish, it thickened and took on a filmy, greasy texture. Even a few hours later I was feeling oiliness in my mouth and oddly enough, my whole body. About that same time the garlic started becoming prevalent as an aftertaste.

I had mentioned this to Doug. Later, he reported back that Doreen, another lady whose  name I did not exactly get permission to use, said she’d noticed the same thing.

I’m no low-brow, canned spaghetti-eating, Italian food n00b*, I’ve been around. I’ve had lots of great Italian food. I don’t recall an overdose of oil being an issue anywhere else. I love olive oil and garlic, I fry my eggs in the stuff. But even Florence Henderson could cook an entire skillet full of chicken with only a tablespoon of oil.

Summary:
Filling, satisfying, and relatively cheap, my dish only cost seven bucks. Nothing they had was over ten, unless you added sides. (They offered fries, oddly enough.)
The comment from the lady who likes dogs got me thinking. There's quite a buzz among food reviewers when it comes to the subject of authenticity. I don't mind 'authentic' food, as long as it's good. If it isn't good, I don't give a rolling rip if it is authentic. 'Authentic' pizza, a Greek invention, would not satisfy the palate of most people who currently eat pizza. I could take you down south and hunt down several fine burgoos, all of them 'authentic' but no two the same. I've been to New Orleans, tried several Jambalaya's there, guess what? They're all authentic, yet all different. Some I liked, some I didn't. So maybe Italian food is supposed to drip oil like the Exxon Valdez, and maybe lots of people like it that way, but I don't. The fact that this may be a thing, an 'authentic' version, simply doesn't impress me.
When Larry got back from his so-called 'meeting' he asked my opinion. I told him about the oil, he laughed. "Am I the only one that tips the plate back to drink the oil like kids do with cereal-milk?" I'm pretty sure he was kidding. Maybe not.

Overall the food tasted good, better than a fast food burger, better than some local restaurants. Will I go back? Probably, but I'll order something else. The consensus was, among my co-workers, that it was pretty good.

A special thanks to all my friends at work who contributed to this review, willingly or not.  Note: All quotes contained herein are approximated. I do take notes but my handwriting is horrific. 

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*n00b: (Urban Dictionary) An inexperienced and/or ignorant or unskilled person.