The Sammich Shack

10910 Hwy 21
Hillsboro, Mo.

Leon's Prime Cuts/Sammich Shack Facebook page.


I saw this place around the first of the year. A simple roadside sign, red painted on white. Another one, similar, was mounted to the roof of a small camping trailer in a parking lot, just south of the intersection of Highway 21 and Highway B.
I looked it up on the web later, didn't find it. I searched Facebook and found comments referring to it on Leon's Prime Cuts page. Yup, there it was, menu and everything.
So for the next couple of weeks, I tried to find a good time to stop

by. On this Saturday morning I was up and out well before noon, which for me is kind of unusual. I was heading to Desoto to try to grab some photos, for historical purposes, of the Ball Creek Bowling Alley. Or should I say the former bowling alley, it burned down earlier in the week. I'd never actually been to the pin den, but I do pass by it nearly every week.  I knew The Shack didn't open until 11, so I got the pictures, turned around and headed back to Hillsboro, getting there around five minutes past. Good enough. They had just turned on the 'OPEN' light, the window opened as I approached. A cheery young lady, Terra, greeted me. I scanned the white board menu.
The Food:
"Excuse me, what are Party Girl Potatoes?" I asked. I heard potatoes covered in cheese, she may have said something else, but she had me at potatoes covered in cheese.
The menu was pretty simple, I liked that. Pulled pork, brisket, ribs and burgers. Other sides were chips and 'Ho-Made Slaw'. I like slaw but I prefer it to be made by food service professionals, rather than. . . you know. . .
I asked for a burger with cheese, the prostitute potatoes, a bottle of water and a quarter slab of ribs to take home to Angel. She's a better judge of that sort of thing. I will eat ribs, but usually only if that's the only meat choice.
Terra told me that it would take a few minutes and that she'd bring it out to me when it was ready. No problem, I spend a lot of time in my car so I keep it pretty stocked with provisions. By that I mean books. So I sat there in the lot, reading and listening to the Tappet Brothers on St. Louis Public Radio. I also thought about where I would actually eat my lunch. There were no picnic tables, not that it mattered, it was twenty nine degrees outside. I'd eat in the car.
Before long Terra came out of the trailer hauling a plastic bag and came toward me. I lowered the window and thanked her, then drove to my favorite place in town to dine in my car, the Hillsboro Cemetery.
Long time fans will recall that I have hobbies other than griping about restaurant food. I visit cemeteries and photograph them, for the site 'findagrave' for the past six years and for the Jefferson County Historical Society for the past year, since they lowered their admission standards and let me join. I do other things for them as well, like  photographing every church in the county, but my heart always pulls me toward cemeteries.

Cemeteries are a great place for a quick lunch in the car. Quiet, peaceful, most often there is no one else there.  Well, living people anyhow and the dead ones don't seem to mind my frequent visits.
So I opened it all up, and it was good. It was what I call a diner style burger. Thin patty, standard bun, lettuce, pickle and onions off to the side. I also found a little tub of Baby Ray's Barbecue Sauce. I threw all that together and bit in. Yummy! A good, old fashioned, peppery griddle burger.
Most of the upscale burger and steak places feel the need to put a half pound of beef on a burger. I don't care for that. Give me a thin patty and I'm good. If I'm still hungry, I can get another one. I could eat this thing with one hand and get my mouth around it without popping my jaw.
I tested the Party Girl Potatoes. I was not disappointed. Exactly as advertised, cubed potatoes

slathered in melty cheddar cheese. This portion was not huge either. When I was finished, I was satisfied, not bloated. I finished up my meal and another chapter and left for my other errands.
When I got home later I presented the ribs to Angel.
"That's a good sign." she said pulling the meat of the bone. "It fell right off." This was referring to a place we didn't review a couple of weeks ago. The ribs there put up a fight. It took utensils to tear the meat off the bone. Angel likes it to basically fall apart at the touch.
"Quite nice." she said after a mouthful.
Summary:

All good. Seriously, all good. The food was first rate, not overthought or frilly. A good burger, nice side, all prepared simply and properly. Terra was a delight, funny, helpful and thoughtful. The bill, for the burger and side, the 1/4 slab of ribs and a bottle of water was pocket change over ten dollars. Nothing to complain about there either.
I don't know what the long term plans are for The Sammich Shop, but I sure hope it stays around for a long while. In my opinion, because they kept it simple and light, this is the best burger in Hillsboro.  Certainly better than any of the fast food outlets, but also better than a couple of other places in town that I will not name here. (Locals will figure it out, there's not that many places to get a burger in town.)
They've only been open since the first of the year, I really, really hope they do well. We need decent places to grab a quick meal, especially if we plan to dine in the car in a cemetery with a good book.

Kettelhut's Smokehouse

1267 N. Truman Blvd.
Crystal City Mo.
On the Interwebs
Facebook

We were looking for recommendations for a good fish taco. Two conditions apply. Jefferson County, excluding Arnold and no fast food joints.
The only places mentioned so far, Taytro's and La Pachanga, there were problems with. Taytro's only has them on their lunch menu and we didn't really care for any thing else at La Pachanga.
So we didn't even try, Angel made a last minute call.
The Place:
Just opened up last September, we reviewed it the first weekend after that. As is the standard for a new place, we made note of some issues to follow up on. I don't care who you are, the first few weeks open is going to have issues. Service especially, the team hasn't had time to work out the kinks. That was several months before this trip, they've had plenty of time to get their act together.
I also told Angel and Adam what they'd ordered on that first trip. More about that later.
Kettelhut's is decorated in a theme of Memphis Blues. There are 'Beale Street' signs, photos of blues musicians and wall decor of saxophones, guitars, etc. The overhead music is all blues, all the time. I like this type of music better than some others, but I can't say I want to hear a lot of it. To me, it gets a bit repetitious after a while. It was tolerable for the time we were there though.
We were seated in a booth, remarkably the same booth as the first time from what I recalled from the wall decor above us.
Abby came by and introduced herself and took our drink order. She seemed nice. Tea, tea and Pepsi.
The Food.
I decided pretty quickly, a simple pulled pork sandwich. Nothing fancy. I sided it with baked beans and fries, almost as an afterthought. We'd had their 'Fried Taters and Onions' on the first trip, I'd mentioned that I didn't like thick cut fried potatoes, so I decided against them this time.
When Abby returned we were ready to order. Angel disappointed us by ordering the same thing she had the first time. I encourage the family to mix it up a little from time to time. But since I'd told her what she had the first time she just replied to my sigh with a "It sounded pretty good when you told me."
So she asked for a 2-fer, ribs and chicken, sided with cucumber salad and fried corn on the cob.
Gratefully, Adam shifted gears and ordered the BBQ Nachos, which are available as an appetizer or a meal.

I checked the time. On the first trip there had been a significant time delay between ordering and service, this is one of the things I was looking for.
The thing about a smokehouse is that there just shouldn't be a long wait. Everything's already made. Big batches of sides, slow cooked meats already cooked. . .
They did not disappoint, less than ten minutes. They also got all the orders right. So far, so good.
I was a little surprised by the amount of fries. My plate looked more like a French fry meal with side of beans and a sandwich. Too many fries is hardly a crime though. I just thought they overshadowed the main event and there was certainly more than I'd ever be able to finish, especially seeing that they'd been a tad over-salted.
The beans looked impressive. Nice and dark. There was more bean juice than I usually care for. The taste was outstanding though. This wasn't baked beans from a can, these were slow cooked, in house, with a hint of molasses. Mmmm
There was more meat on the sandwich that I originally thought. They'd piled it on quite generously. I tasted a sliver, definitely smoky, but a bit dry. That's what all the bottles of sauces were for. I chose two sauces, a sweet one and one called 'Pappa's Pride' which I highly recommend. A little sweet but less so than many bottled brands.
The fries were pretty good, but a little too salty and way, way too many of them.
Angel plowed through her meats like a Jurassic raptor. (BTW, the raptors in that movie were

modeled after cretaceous period dinosaurs, not Jurassic.) She claimed that the chicken was nice and crispy with a moist and tender interior. The ribs, tender and meaty. The corn, surprisingly wasn't dry from being fried. The 'toast' was barely toast. Cooked on one side only and barely buttered. "I think I OD'd on meat." she said.
Adam's nachos were "pretty good" though he added that there was too much cheese. . . as if such a thing were possible.
Abby kept the drinks refilled and processed the bill quickly.
Summary:
Frankly, we were impressed and quite satisfied. All the original, startup issues had been resolved. The food was good, the service, by that I mean Abby, was top notch, the tables were being cleaned promptly, orders were correct and served in a timely manner. . .
All for forty bucks.
Yeah, pretty much no significant complaints. It's good to see a local business do well, I hope they are here to stay.

Ruby Tuesday

1120 Shapiro Dr.
Festus, Mo.
On The Net

Earlier in the week I got word from Angel. "We have a Ruby Tuesday coupon."
Hint, taken.
Of all the franchise bar/restaurants, It's about the only one we go to very often. It's never been perfect, but it is only rarely terrible.
It was because of a very bad night at RT that we started looking for other places to eat back in 2009. You could say that Ruby Tuesday is the birthplace of Eat and Critique.
The Place:
It used to have walls lined with junk. Sports junk, iron tools, etc. Much like 'Chotchkies' in the movie 'Office Space'. They got rid of all that 'flair' a few years ago, painted the walls, toned it down a little.
It still has a central bar, but overall it is no longer an open invitation to frat-style rowdiness.
There are booths on the sides, a bar area, and an entry. Separating the bar from the entry is the world's best salad bar. This bar is why Angel likes going here. Meals are chosen to be compatible with a mega-load of salad.
A couple of young ladies greeted at the podium and chatted over charts, finally deciding to put us in pretty much the same booth as we always end up in.
Pretty soon, a young, energetic man stopped by asking for drink orders. We replied with the usual. He skittered away.
The Food:
I scanned the menu, Angel and Adam debated appetizers. I don't usually get involved in appetizer discussions, I only rarely partake. They usually want wings, which I do not care for.
When the young man delivered our drinks and Angel put in the appetizer order. I heard the word 'sampler'. Something must have caught her eye that Adam might not care for. That could be a lot of things.
It didn't take long before the menus were closed. In front of us were some of those luscious cheddar biscuits. I held off, I had a plan.
As we waited I noticed the tea glasses. Or rather mugs, worse, plastic mugs. I don't like drinking out of plastic cups. We have a few at home that I've never had a drink from. I'd rather drink from a Bundt pan than a plastic cup. That is usually not an option at restaurants though. I expect a plastic cup in lower end places. RT is not lower end. Besides, this was a cheaply made, faux beer mug. I'm sure RT has a bunch of actual glass mugs at the bar. . .
Seriously, like the Styrofoam cups at Savannah's Smokehouse last week, this sort of thing is one of those annoying little details that just set up for a 'beneath my price range' mood. I knew going in that this bill would be in the sixty five to seventy five dollar range. Give me an actual glass for Pete's sake!

 No time for that now though. We placed our entree orders:
Me: Top Sirloin, fries, salad bar.
Angel: New Orleans Seafood, Zucchini (blech!) and salad bar.
Adam: Rids and Chicken Tenders, with fries.
The young man almost got trampled in our rush to the salad bar. There's
nothing exotic at the bar, there's just a lot of variety, a whole lot. And lots of types of dressing as well. I loaded my plate up with a few greens, mushrooms, onions, cucumbers, peppers, cheese, bacon bits, egg, etc. Thousand Island dressing this eve'.
The appetizer tray arrived, four selections. Spicy wings as orange as expected. That color of orange is only found in one place in nature, traffic cones and barrels. I've never looked at a construction site and drooled for the flavor of anything that color. In the service, I once painted my office that color. The Inspector General was making the rounds and I'd read a report that said that this color is a people repellent.  It also causes headaches after a day or so.
Also on the tray were some un-spicy wings, miniature cheese logs, or something, and tiny Thai spring rolls.
This is apparently what caught Angel's eye. Adam would never touch one of those. I would though.
So I tried one. Not bad, not bad at all. Pretty darn good as a matter of fact. Angel agreed. That's the only thing I tried. Adam tore into the messy orange wings. They'd asked for the 'mild' version, Angel said it was still too spicy for her. Adam seemed to like it though. Most of the rest of the stuff ended up in a box, bound for Adam's lunch bag. He had to work that night.
I gulped down most of my gloppy salad, too much dressing again. It sure was good though.
Soon, too soon, the entrees arrived. This has been one of my complaints in the past. Badly timed courses. It doesn't happen every time, just often enough to be frustrating, leaving the table with too many plates and having to choose between abandoning or finishing the salad and appetizers while the entrees slid toward room temperature.

I pushed the salad plate aside. Steak trumps all.
I carved a sliver off the left side. The juices started flooding, threatening to drench the fries. I didn't care, the fries were an afterthought. I wanted steak. Besides, the fries weren't all that special anyhow, maybe an afterthought for the kitchen crew as well. Too much salt.
The steak did not cut easily. This worried me. I recalled having a problem like this at RT before. So I sawed through it with the finesse of a hyena. I was right, the steak was perfect, buttery, not tough to chew at all. For some reason, I doubt if it was concern for my safety, the steak knife was better suited for clubbing than slicing.
The steak itself though, was excellent. Not topped or sauced, just bare, naked, charred and bloody meat on my tongue. A little salt, a little pepper, a bit of butter and a flame. All a good cut of beef ever really needs. I saved a little though, to go with the cheddar biscuits. Sunday breakfast with steak, eggs and some of those little red potatoes I'd picked up at a produce stand earlier in the day.
Angel likes seafood. But I repeat myself. Her plate was packed with zucchini (blech!) and a tilapia filet coated in 'Parmesan cream sauce'  and drizzled with some shrimp. Mostly zucchini (blech!) though. Later in the meal I noticed the fish barely looked touched. "The sauce is too salty." She reported. Fortunately, the zucchini was good. I told her I sincerely doubted that. Zucchini, to me, is like Pleather. It's fake food. You use zucchini when there's nothing else available, or if you are trying to replace something on your plate with a more healthy, if not more disgusting, alternative.
"I'll order something less daring next time." She summarized.
I shared a sliver of steak with her. Yeah, it was good.
Adam, not surprisingly, didn't say much about his plate. He inherited a

double dose of introvert. Or is it introvert squared? Anyway, he doesn't say much about anything. For example, when asked if his messy batch of ribs was good, he answered: "It's ribs." He also finally said that he was not impressed with the fries. He struggled mightily and messily breaking down the ribs. He must have had an even duller knife than I did. They did provide extra napkins though, which was good since with him going after those ribs with a blunt instrument there was splatter, not unlike the front row at a Gallagher show, during the trademark sledge hammer  vs. watermelon bit.
I suppose the chicken was fine, he said nothing about that, but it did end up in his takeout box.
No dessert, thanks.
Summary:
If it sounds like a mixed review, well that's kind of typical for Ruby Tuesday. Some things are great, some, just not quite right. The bill came in under sixty five dollars, after a ten dollar appetizer coupon. I tipped the difference. The young man was most satisfactory, he kept the drinks refilled and was attentive to our desires, such as actually leaving out the ice when Angel asked for more tea 'without ice'. No complaints about Ryan S. (That's what the receipt says.)
Angel pointed out that the busing crew was MIA, a table beside ours hadn't been cleared the whole time we were there.
Details, those annoying little details.
And that's the thing. These issues are 100% laziness or mismanaged priorities. The awful plastic
mugs, the mis-timed serving, the lackluster fries and overly salty fish, nothing that required any actual recipe really popped. The steak was excellent, but that was 90% cut quality and only 10% skill. Details, details . . . at a price I don't really think worthy of such annoying details.
We'll go back, salad bar, and the steak is pretty good. But other offerings? We're still searching for go-to alternatives.

Bandana's Bar-B-Q

1220 Big Bill Rd.
Arnold, Mo.
On The Web
On Facebook

We are eagerly awaiting the opening of four or five places around Jefferson County. One, is Savannah's Smokehouse in Desoto. I was in the Fountain City Saturday morning taking pictures of some of the interesting sights around town. While on Main Street I peeked inside the window to see how it was progressing. They've still got some work to do, but soon, maybe soon.
In the meantime, we still have to come up with places to eat. This was Adam's week and as is his custom, he didn't announce until about an hour before dinner time. Adam is not very experimental in this family venture. he picks places that he likes. So Bandana's was no surprise.
There used to be a Bandana's in Festus, but it ironically burned down a couple of years ago, there has been no apparent effort to replace it. So, we were off to Arnold.

The Place:
I've said it before, I don't like going to Arnold. It is about the northernmost city in Jefferson County, which makes it more of just another suburb of St. Louis than anything else. The roads are always busy, it is littered with acute-angled, confounding multi-lane, multi-choice intersections. The business area has every conceivable big box store, franchise restaurant, bank, strip mall you can imagine. There are a couple of restaurants in Arnold that we've tried to go to, but the lines around the buildings were just too intimidating. Bandana's though is usually not nearly as busy. The lot was less than half full. We got out, I closed the car door, then checked it again, then
once more before We went in. Last week my car door was left open the entire time we were dining.
As we approached the entrance, something on their door caught my eye. Mixed messages on the door. I love irony.
We went in and were led back to a booth. Bandana's is wider than it is deep. Most of the booths are in three straight long rows. I imagine staff movement, serving and clearing are more efficient this way, not bending around haphazardly arraigned tables and diners.
Our server, name-tagged 'Kayla', a young, happy and energetic lady, opened up her order pad. "Can I start you off with some tea or Pepsi Products?" She asked of me.
"Why yes, yes you can." I answered and returned to scanning the menu. That never gets old.
I looked up again and saw her smiling. Points! "I'm afraid you'll have to be a bit more specific than that."

Angel jumped in for the rescue. "Sweet tea, and can I get that with no ice?"
Of course she can. I ordered unsweet tea with no sugar, which never gets old either, Adam went for a Pepsi.
She scurried off and we began the selection process. After I decided I looked around and checked out the familiar layout. Mostly brick and tile, lights over the tables were re-purposed tin washtubs. Somewhere in the background there was music, country maybe, but fortunately it was so low in volume that I couldn't even make out the tunes.
Kayla returned in a few minutes with our drinks, we were ready to order.

The Food:
I ordered a Southern Pulled Pork Sandwich and a side of potato salad. I heard someone else order that side as we were being led back to our seats and the notion stuck. I hadn't had potato salad in a long time. Angel went for her usual, a Choose Two combo of chicken and ribs with fried okra (Blech!) and French fries. Adam went simple, Buffalo Chicken Sandwich and fries.
Bandana's has lots of smoky meats to choose from, beef, turkey, chicken, sausages, pork, etc. There's also a very god selection of sides to choose from.
I'd not had the pulled pork before, usually I get a Choose Two myself. I was hoping the pulled pork would be just a little wetter and in strips rather than half inch chunks. Those tend to be a little chewy and dry unless you slather them in sauce. Bandana's has an excellent selection of sauces to choose from at every table, so it's not that big of a deal, I'm just lazy.
I discovered they had free Wifi available, so Like Angel and Adam, spent the next few minutes browsing the web or whatever it is they do on their 'smart' cellular telephones. I had my tablet, both phones I carry are flip-style, for making phone calls, like phones are supposed to do.
When I did look up again I started watching the staff, especially the hot ones. (just kidding!) I noticed the front staff was entirely female and the only people I could see in the kitchen were male. I'm not accusing anyone of anything here, just an observation. Many would argue that women don't belong in the kitchen, I boldly and vehemently disagree. I will speak out loudly to put women back into the kitchen, because I'm all for women's rights.
You're welcome, ladies.
As if on cue, Kayla brought me my sandwich.

The sandwiches were presented in baskets, diner style. Angel's combo came on a plate. My potato salad was in a little bowl in the basket, Adam's fries were just dumped in alongside his sandwich. The meat on mine was piled high. So was the potato salad. There was going to be more than enough food. I pulled a chunk, there were chunks, not threads, of meat and tasted it. Smoky, sure, but as I feared, a little dry. Pass the sauce please!
I injected about a quarter cup of Sweet and Smoky into the pile of meat, made more complicated by the slaw on the top. The bun seemed kind of flimsy, I doubted it would hold up for long. Once sauced up the meat was very good. A bit chunky for a 'pulled' pork sandwich, but not too bad. The potato salad was a sweet version, with chunks of boiled egg and slivers of something, perhaps potato skins. As far as potato salad goes, pretty darn good.
Angel's plate came with two enormous slices of Texas toast. I'd forgotten that luscious treat. They apparently bathe the
toast in butter, there's not a dry spot on it anywhere. Thick, buttery, toasted, Mmmmm. She handed me half a slice. I love her. Looking at her plate though was troubling. Two starchy fried sides and a pound of toast.

The actual meats took up less than half the plate. I tasted one of her fries, not bad. Angel pours ketchup over the fries, I'm a dipper myself. It's a miracle we're still together given that stark difference.
It was only a small portion of ribs, and there's not much meat on ribs anyhow. Angel said they were very good, just not a lot there. Bandana's are about her favorite ribs anywhere. The chicken was a little dry, she said. Tasty, but dry.
As for the okra (Blech!) she said they were nothing special, probably frozen.
Adam's sandwich and fries were gone in a hurry. He was quite pleased. He didn't say much about it, but the speed and the 100% completion spoke volumes.
Summary:
Currently our favorite smoky meat place. We sure miss the one in Festus, Arnold is a pain to get to.
The price was quite reasonable, forty two bucks. Kayla took very good care of us, happy, efficient and patient the whole time.
The tea was better than most places, but still almost an afterthought.
I'll have to admit that Adam and Angel are bigger fans of smoky meats than I am. I don't dislike them at all, but it's not a high ranking, go-to thing in my head. As far as they go though, I have to admit that this is about as good as it gets.
The whole operation is well run, efficient, on time, they get the orders right and the food is definitely fresh cooked.
If only they'd rebuild in Festus. . .

Jilly's

1630 Gravois Rd.
High Ridge, Mo.
On the Web
On Facebook

It was nearing the end of the four days off from work for the New Year holiday. We're not partiers, so we had no plans for celebration other than snack-type munchies, veggies, dips, chips, those 'Little Smokies' in barbecue sauce... some of us didn't even manage to make it to midnight. At that magic time I was watching TV, I don't recall what, maybe Mythbusters, probably Mythbusters, I saw a lot of that over the four days. They were running and end to end series marathon.
The weather was mostly chilly and cloudy, I took advantage of the lack of goings-on and dark, dreary weather to luxuriate in a glorious languor.
I insisted that Angel should pick us a place to go to on Saturday. I can be a jackass like that at times, especially if I'm wallowing in a long period of downtime and too lazy to think about, or plan things much.
She surprised me when after a couple of hours she came back with "Jilly's."
"You mean the Salt Palace?" I responded.
That's what jumped to mind immediately when she said it. The two times we've reviewed the place, we came away feeling salt-licked.
If we were going to do this right, we'd have to keep our minds open, besides, we hadn't been there in nearly five years.
The Place:
High Ridge is actually quite a distance from our compound outside Hillsboro. There's no good way to bet there.Choice 'A' is barely-shouldered, narrow and curvy/hilly Highway BB, over to Highway 30, then half the county north.
Choice 'B' is more drivable, 21 to M then up 30, for not nearly as far. To get there we took Choice B. It seemed to take forever. The restaurant sits on a hill amongst and behind other shops, so you have to look for the signs. It was all lit up this post holiday time, the patio and gazebo held tasteful, not wasteful simple white lights.Overhead the blue neon sign read "illy's". Which by definition means the sign wasn't filled with neon, which is orange, more likely mercury gas.
The place can hold a lot of people, so it didn't concern us too much to see that the lot was about 2/3 full. We just marched in like we owned the place. The main dining area has booths along the perimeter. The center of the space is lower than the perimeter, sort of a ballroom configuration. In the center area there was a group of forty or so besuited middle aged people that appeared to all be part of a single group. A reception of some kind. They were already being served their main courses.
We were shown to a booth in the back, pretty much the same booth we've gotten twice before.

The decor is classy. By that I mean classic. Dark wood paneled walls, 60's style booths and tables, the artwork depicting martini's and Manhattans in cocktail glasses. Almost like you wouldn't be surprised to see a half sloshed Don Draper sitting at one of them with his hand sliding up some buxom blonde's skirt.
Overhead, old style blues rang out, one of my favorite restaurant music types.
Yeah, a steakhouse/blues club/cocktail bar. A bit of odd fusion, but certainly unique. Nothing Diner/Drive-in/Dive about it.
The Food:
I pretty much knew I'd be getting steak. I hadn't had one in quite a while. So I scanned the menu as the server asked about drinks (tea, tea, Pepsi). I heard Angel ask for an appetizer, cannelloni bites. They are prepared similar to the regionally ubiquitous toasted ravioli, by that I mean breaded and deep fried.
I struggled with the steak selections, I was looking for a small steak. I wanted a baked potato as well, no need to waste a big, pricey slab of meat that I wouldn't be able to finish. The only small one (6 oz.) they had was a Petite Flat Iron. I didn't know what that was, but it was a steak and it was the right size. So after our drinks arrived I asked for it, the potato and green beans.
Angel asked for 'The Ribs' with Spinach Salad and Baked Potato. Adam a Grilled Chicken Club Sandwich with House Chips.
Pretty soon the cannelloni arrived, twelve of them, more than you get as an appetizer in other places, with a tiny ramekin of marinara dipping sauce sprinkled with Parmesan cheese.
I dipped a cannelloni into the sauce too soon, it was blistering hot. I let half of it rest and cool before trying it again.
We agreed that we liked cannelloni better than ravioli, more meaty filling, less noodle. The treats and the sauce were pretty darn good. The cannelloni was crunchy, meaty, savory. The sauce was not too sweet, but maybe a little too much Parm.
There, I said it, without really saying it. Parmesan cheese comes across a bit salty. I was on my guard looking for too salty tastes, the very thing we'd dinged Jilly's about in the past. There are several things besides salt itself that can come across salty, Parm is among them.
I had reviewed the previous write-ups before we went out. I recalled the saltiness  so I tried, deliberately to avoid things that might be victims of a heavy hand. Notice no one asked for mashed potatoes? A baked potato is safer, They aren't seasoned on the inside. The mashed potatoes was definitely something I'd pegged before as being over-'seasoned'.
Angel's Spinach Salad showed up pretty soon. A fresh, healthy looking thing, all green and crispy. She'd asked for the house 'Mayfair' dressing on it. I wouldn't have. Mayfair is also a St. Louis creation, anchovies, oil, egg, champagne, garlic, mustard. . .  see where i'm going here? Considering the venue and our past experiences, I would have chosen a sweeter dressing to cut back on the salty potential of everything else.
But I didn't get a salad. Sure enough, Angel didn't really care for the dressing.

The cannelloni disappeared, the salad made it about halfway, the 'rib towel' arrived. A mango and peach disposable wipe in a plastic tube. I guessed that Angel and her ribs were about to get messy. I don't care for ribs myself, a little too fatty, too much of a hassle, too messy. Angel's a big fan though, of beef ribs anyhow. The menu didn't say which animal the ribs came from. Could have been a horse for all we knew. She had assumed beef. . . Guess what?
The third person to wait on us this far delivered the main courses. Hefty, nicely plated offerings. Angel's pile of meat and bones looked as though it weighed twenty pounds or so.

Ribs

My strategically ordered 'petite' steak was smaller than the potato. Adam's sandwich and chips filled his plate.
We dug in. My steak cut like butter. The potato was piping hot and soft inside, it took the sour cream and butter perfectly. Yeah, I pretty much turned it into mashed potatoes, but I controlled the seasoning. A little pepper was all it took.
The green beans were firm and surrounded by a generous portion of cooked onions. I like onions, a lot.

Petite Flat Iron Steak

The steak was topped with a dollop of 'Cabernet Butter' Something Jilly's puts on most of their steaks. It didn't coat the whole thing though, so I was a bit confused when I bit in too a piece from the edge. It tasted. . . off. It didn't really taste much like steak. The texture was perfect, the done-ness, spot on, but the taste was weird. That's the best I can describe it. It just didn't taste like my taste buds were wanting it to taste. It wasn't awful, but it really was off-putting. I didn't finish it, or my beans for that matter. . . there was a taste to them from the onions, or some seasoning that just didn't motivate me to finish them. My tummy was happy though, potato.
Angel piped in somewhere that the ribs were not what she was expecting, they had a taste and texture that didn't match her expectations either. She said it might be from the wrong animal, but we had no way of knowing without asking.
There was also a lot of meat there. She had to get a box to take about half of it home. The ribs had been served with two ramekins of sauce, one was decidedly barbecue, the other was up for debate. Both Angel and Adam tried it, but they couldn't agree. Angel's final word was that it might be a form of Buffalo sauce, but in the end it didn't really matter because it went unused.
Adam's response about his sandwich was a fairly tepid 'pretty good'. Of course being a chicken sandwich, there's not a lot to either screw up or make sparkle. The bacon helped, the tomato and lettuce discarded, so it was basically just a grilled chicken breast, some bacon, some mild provolone and chilpotle sauce.
Summary:
I know you're dying to know, the tea was . . . blah. Not bitter really, but definitely on the south side of fresh.
Though I can't say that the main complaint this time was saltiness, we'd effectively dodged that bullet, but the consensus was that though not really bad, it was a bit disappointing in that nothing really stood out as being really all that good. With my steak, it could have been the cut, but I don't think that would have made so much of a difference. The ribs were not falling off the bone tender, but that's not always a bad thing. It was the taste and texture, and the lack of knowing what animal it came from that will keep Angel from ordering it again. Discussions later concluded that there just wasn't any real pull for the place, nothing that would motivate us to drive that far to take visitors to.
It seems to be busy and successful though, so maybe we're just ordering the wrong things. I'd love to hear from someone that found something there that they find really good.
As I mentioned, we were served by no less than three different people. All of them were nice enough, friendly and professional, but at the end of the meal I wasn't clear who I would be tipping.
So, bottom line, it was okay, but it might be another four and a half years before it occurs to me to try it again.

Ruby Tuesday

Your usual wordsmith is out of town this weekend to join his siblings in Kentucky. I am his son, Adam, who you may have read about in previous posts as the quiet one with opinions ranging from “fine” to “not bad”. I am not as verbose as my father, who has been reading and dabbling in writing longer than I have been alive, so you won’t see me using words like “wainscoted” or other such snobby language. He insisted my mother take pictures of our meal, so I decided to take the helm of this week’s blog. I have attempted writing before, but could never muster the motivation for anything extensive, so this might be a fun exercise.
The Place:
Ruby Tuesday, an old favorite. Well, “favorite” may not be the right word. This was one of the few places we dined at before starting this blog and escaping our rut. Our adventures in trying new places has noticeably expanded our palettes, most obviously with another classic, Bob Evans, growing just too salty for us these days. Quickly burning through established chains early on led us to lesser known locations, growing our taste even more and allowing us to see that, hey, there is some real quality food out there if you actually go beyond the usual. Perhaps this is why I had such a scathing review of O’Charleys recently, or, perhaps, they are just not great in general. Either way, our continuing return trips to Ruby Tuesday, what surely must be our most visited location at this point, show just how good it is. Or maybe it’s nostalgia.

The Food:
We were seated in a booth, which had a loose table rather than a bolted one. This is nice if you

 want to shift it around, but I much prefer a stationary surface. After a moment we were greeted by our waiter, an odd fellow. I didn’t catch his name, but he reminded me a lot of Otho from the movie Beetlejuice.
We put in our drink orders: my mother a sweet tea, myself a Coke. Their menu had changed quite a bit over the years due to an apparent initiative to become more than just a typical family eatery. This works for the better in terms of the food quality and creating a more focused variety, but results in me never remembering what they have.
A scan of the menu revealed some new features, most notably sandwiches and burgers being served on pretzel buns. This intrigued me. Local shop Cool Beans (which is currently remodeling! We will definitely be returning soon) feature pretzel buns, so I know from experience they are good. This time, however, I wasn’t quite that hungry, so I decided on another new option: a half rack of barbecue ribs and “southern” style hand breaded chicken

tenders, with a side of fries. My mother also chose a half rack of ribs, but with a request for a skewer of grilled shrimp. She then asked to have the salad bar as one of her two sides, but Otho had to decline. He apologized that, much to his disdain and continued protests, the salad bar can only be added on, not used as a side. She sighed but got it anyway, instead ordering her two sides as spaghetti squash and cooked zucchini. I’m unclear why she felt the need to punish herself by ordering these, but I didn’t pry. Otho headed for the kitchen and my mother went for her salad. Since I did not get a salad, she jokingly warned that I would not be allowed at her croutons. I scoffed at the idea, and recommended just grabbing extra. Several minutes later Otho returned with cheese biscuits, fresh out of the oven. They remind me of the similar biscuits served by Red Lobster, but since that place is otherwise terrible, Ruby Tuesday having them dismisses any chance of going back there. Warm, cheesy, soft. They were excellent.

Our meals arrived. I don’t usually order ribs, but these looked quite good. So much so that the lady seated at the table behind us ended up changing her previous order to the ribs. The meat fell right off the bone, much to my delight. I am not a fan of eating around a bone. Too much of a hassle. The meat itself was quite tasty, but not wonderful. Ribs are good, but I prefer other areas of the cow more, I suppose. As for the chicken, it was very tender, and the seasoning was quite… “southern” I guess you could say. A side of honey mustard made them even better. The fries were crispy but not crunchy, and seasoned well.My mother agreed about the ribs, which is all I rea
lly needed to hear, but then she commented on the slop she considered sides.
The zucchini, she says, was good, but the squash was not her cup of tea. No fault of the restaurant itself, just not something she liked. I acted surprised by this finding.

Summary:
Of course it was good. Ruby Tuesday is a constant in our new world of dining. Not spectacular, but never awful. Above average and with enough variety that our return trips never grow tiresome.
Otho was having a rough day, and I sympathize with him. I myself work in the food industry and sometimes have opinions about what management does. He regularly checked up on us, made sure we understood everything, refilled our drinks in a timely manner, and was otherwise perfectly friendly. He just needs a break.



Editor's Note:
If I must add anything from this meal, it is about the shrimp skewer. I wasn't there, but I certainly heard about it. The skewer cost $3 and had a grand total of 3 shrimp. Angel mentioned this several times, many, many times. (DCB)

Bandana's (Arnold)

1220 Big Bill Rd.Arnold, Mo. (Map)
On the Wide World of Web.

My pen-pal, Suzi will probably huff at this choice. She knows I don't get up to Arnold much and there are lots of restaurants there that she would probably rather me try. But this wasn't my choice, it was Angel's. The dear wife wanted Bandana's, regardless of where it was. The one in Festus burned down a year or so ago.
The reason I don't go to Arnold much is because it is more like a busy suburb than the smaller towns further south in Jefferson County. It is always bustling and busy, lots of stoplights, lots of traffic, and places we've headed to there in the past have typically had lines at the door. We don't do 'wait' well.
We like the food at Bandana's though, a lot. They smoke meat.
The Place:
Just off one of the many very busy streets, next to one of the many shopping centers, within sight of an Applebees. The parking lot wasn't completely full, but only because it was quite a large lot.
When we went in there were some people waiting, but fortunately for us they were waiting for a large table. Our needs weren't quite so demanding. The young, petite, yet capable hostess sent us to a booth, one of very few empty ones, that was still moist from being wiped down.
Bandana's is fairly large, I didn't get get a square footage estimate, but certainly bigger than a Waffle House. More like a Cracker Barrel.
Speaking of Cracker Barrel, that's what Bandana's smells like. Cracker Barrels usually have a big fireplace and in certain weather keep a fire roaring. Bandana's keeps their smokers burning 24 hours a day. It's a very nice, cozy, comfy, mouth watering aroma.
Bandana's has locations in Missouri, Illinois and Iowa.They also have one in Indiana, in Evansville. Mostly though this is a Missouri chain, the first one, built in 1986, was in Arnold.
We sat at our booth, the din of the filled place drowned out any overhead music, if there was any.
Missy brought our menus and asked about drinks. Tea for me, sweet tea, no ice, for Angel, Adam opted for Pepsi.
The Food:
The menus are simple. They don't have  a ton of different food, If you want seafood, pasta, burgers, you're in the wrong place. Pork, beef, chicken, turkey, ribs and smoked sausage is what they serve, platters or sandwiches. They also have a fair, but uncomplicated list of sides and starters, including some sleepers, things you might not have guessed. Boiled peanuts, fried corn on the cob, breaded and fried green beans and what Angel says is pretty good, Bar-B-Q chicken nachos.
So the decision is which meat would you like, and yes, you can mix and match. It's all pretty good. Some will find smoked meat tasty, but a little dry, don't worry though, each table has the full compliment of Bandana's own sauces, six of them.
For those of you pretending to be watching your weight, I noticed that under each menu item listed was the calorie count for that dish. They are not ashamed of their food, at all, this place is for carnivores.
I finally decided, as did Angel and Adam. Missy brought our drinks and started writing.
Me: Pulled pork sandwich with baked beans.
Angel: Chicken platter plus one rib ($2.00 option) fried corn on the cob and, wanting to try something new, fried green beans.
Adam: 'Pick 2', chicken and beef with fries and corn.
Missy scribbled it all down without comment, then turned away and left us alone. Out came the electronic devices. Adam played a game, Angel looked up something or another, I played with my tablet's two cameras.
The wait grew, people came and went. The evening went south. A family was seated in the both behind us, their small boy spotted them and ran towards them squealing loudly all the way. Like in that old classic movie, '39 Steps' where a cleaning lady discovers a body, opens her mouth to scream, then an immediate cutaway to a high speed steam locomotive tearing down the track with a heavy hand on the shrill, angry whistle. He roared past us, the hair on my neck spiked up like the fur on the arched back of a hissing cat.
He jumped into the bench seat behind us and started rocking, bucking us from behind with every bounce. Angel didn't say anything at the time, but she had to know that this would be a certain mood changer for me. It was, I soured. He finally settled, but the problem with that group did not go away. The patriarch of the family had a deep, booming voice, like a seasoned Baptist minister and from it came knowledge of all things. He never asked a question, he already knew everything about everything and was sure to confirm this on every subject. The man talked loudly and confidently for the full course of their stay.
This was not Bandana's fault, it won't affect my review other than to point out that this is a problem in larger populated, really busy places. There's bound to be a bloviating ass and/or a shrill, undisciplined child in the mix at any given time.
The food took a while which I  thought odd. The main course, the meats, are prepared constantly and well ahead of time in big batches and there weren't that many sides offered. Why it took so long, I'm not sure.
But the food did arrive. It was gorgeous. My sandwich was served in a plastic basket on paper, the beans were separated in a shallow ramekin. The sandwich was topped with fresh coleslaw. I grabbed a bottle of Chicago sauce, my favorite, flipped the sandwich over and slathered on a generous portion.
The beans were sweet, sweeter than you might be accustomed to, but very good. This was no one's canned baked beans.
Angel's plate looked massive. A spice rubbed thigh, breast and leg. A handsome rib also looked pretty good as well. The fried green beans were breaded and deep fried. The corn, still on the cob, had scorch marks. The garlic bread looked beautiful. Golden, bright, like the pigtails of a country girl on a sunny day. Adam's corn was more conventional, the fries looked like fries. On his plate you could see the 'stick to the basics' style of Bandana's. Just lovely, simple smoked meat. No fancy garnishes or toppings. If you want sauce, it's on the table.
Also on the table, every table, is a roll of paper towels. They are not just there for the ribs.
Pulled meat usually means shredded. Not necessarily so here. There were sizable chunks on my bun that when bitten, came out fully intact. A couple of these were big enough that the next couple of bites came out with only slaw and bun. Of course, this also meant splatter and spillage. The flimsy napkin that was wrapped around the bargain basement silverware didn't last halfway through the meal.
I strongly advise not wearing your best Sunday-go-to-meetings to Bandana's. The chances of splatter and drip is quite high. So mechanically my sandwich was a bit messy, but that's not a criticism. The taste, oh the wonderful taste, more than made up for that.
My meal was smaller than my family's so I finished first. I picked at a couple of Angel's green beans. They were pretty good, though very heavy for a bean.
Angel tore through her corn like an industrial shredding machine. She left the chicken skin on the plate but the meat had disappeared, the bones appeared acid soaked so devoid of meat they had been rendered.
Missy came by and checked on us, a single takeout box please. Angel was saving the bread. We've always loved the bread, even though Angel said "I think it's probably my changing tastes, but the bread seemed a little oily." This did not stop her from putting it into the box for later though.
Summary:
"Good, as usual." Adam said. That about says it. The food is good. it is of much better quality than many places, simply, but expertly prepared. Bandana's has been around for nearly thirty years, the recipes and techniques have not changed. They don't need to. This is not reprocessed, cookie cutter, industrial food. It's the real thing.
Busy as it was, except for the longer than expected wait time, the service was professional and solid. Missy didn't chat us up unnecessarily, but she was attentive, patient and thorough.
The price was good, but not dirt cheap, $49.01
The tea? Sorry, but not very good. It was fresh, not cloudy and bitter, but it was pretty weak. I'll give it a minus two and a half. It worked okay to wash the meat down, but tasted only mildly stronger than water.
Will we be back? Not for a while. Location, location, location. Should they build anew in Festus/Crystal City though, you bet. But I simply hate navigating the traffic and crowds in Arnold.