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!

Local House Restaurant and Bar

3946 Jeffco Blvd.
Arnold, Mo.
On the Internet
On Facebook

We were discussing the options this week, the subject of fish tacos came up. I was game. Angel mentioned a place we went to a year ago, Cafe Arnold, that she thought made them better than most other places. I loaded up the review we did at the time and saw that the place had at that time, just changed ownership and that we liked it really well.
I also loaded up their online menu and saw that it looked the same. Decision, made.
So for the rest of the week, I decided I would order the fish tacos, something I've never, ever done before. Not that I don't like them, I do like a good one, they just aren't on my pop-up list of cravings.
So we went.
Uh oh.

The sign on the strip mall location had been replaced with a banner. "Now Open! The Local House". It said. We stood and stared at the banner for a few moments, not sure what to do. We saw people coming and going, so we finally decided to give it a  whirl.

The Place:
Pretty much the same as a year ago under the previous name. Nicely decorated, seven TV's on the dining area's walls all tuned to sports, muted. There was overhead music "I've Got Sunshine", "My Girl", "You Really Got a Hold On Me", etc. Back twenty or thirty years ago we called those songs 'Oldies'. I'm not sure what they are called now. I do know it wasn't country, or opera, two song genre's that tempt me to spray paint explicit obscenities on clean walls, so it was fine.  There was a separate bar area where there were even more muted, sports-infested flat screens. The small bar crowd was not too loud or rowdy, so we walked right past it.
We were led to a booth that we remembered as being just one or two booths away from the last time we

were there.
I usually do advance research on a place before we visit. This time I had nothing. So I broke my tradition and actually asked the young lady that was seating us about the apparent change.
Maddie concurred that the place had changed hands again about a month back. It was a quick-turn from the previous owner to the new one, a couple of weeks, which is why it looked exactly the same as before. It was a turn-key deal. New name, new management, new menu and new staff. No redecorating or remodeling.
Okay.
The Food:
The menu had changed completely. One thing that was noticeably missing was. . .  You guessed it, there were no fish tacos listed, anywhere.
There were lots of alternative options though. . . perhaps too many (more on that later).
Pizzas, burgers, sandwiches, pastas, steaks, a LOT of options.
It took me a while to refocus, I'd had fish taco on the brain for several days and was having trouble resetting that.
I didn't want pizza, or a fat burger. . . there, steak, can't go wrong with a steak. Fortunately they had an 8oz. option, a 'hand cut sirloin'. I like steak, but I don't ever want an entire side of beef. Especially if there is a salad and at least one starchy side.
I shouldn't have to explain this to you again, my tummy capacity has shrunk over the last couple of years. I haven't been able to actually finish a typical fat burger or pasta plate since.
Adam and Angel seemed to have decided as well, but like me, Angel would occasionally pick up the menu again and give it another go-over.
Maddie arrived with our drinks, tea, tea and Pepsi. The tea looked clear and fresh. A good start.

Angel and Adam had sort of decided on an appetizer, wings, but had to ask Maddie what a 'Trashed Butter Garlic' sauce was. Satisfied with the detailed explanation, they chose ten of those.
I wasn't too concerned myself, I don't like sports bar wings, anybody's. I don't want to have to pull up the Scoville scale to determine whether the things are going to burn through my innards or not.
Maddie came back quickly with the complimentary bread basket and pointed out the house made honey butter. We gave her our main course orders.
Me: 8oz. 'Hand Cut Sirloin', mashed potatoes and a house salad with the house vinaigrette.
Angel: Tutto Mare (seafood pasta, 'from the sea') with no salad, no side.
Adam: Spicy Chicken Sandwich and fries.
We slathered the creamy honey butter onto the small slices of bread and each agreed that there was no

discernible honey taste or texture. It was good, it just lacked that sweet note the item's name would indicate.
The wings came pretty soon. To be fair and objective, I tried a small pull from one of Angel's wings.
Then an amazing thing happened. I grabbed a small plate and slapped a full wing onto it. It was awesome!
Yeah, I know. But allow me to explain. These were not 'hot wings'. These were just very crispy, very tender and juicy wings soaked in a garlic butter sauce. Completely great! How they achieved and maintained that crispiness and depth of flavor, I have no idea.

I could stop right here and endorse this place just based on those wings alone. A mug of beer, a pile of those wings, I might even endure a sports competition on TV over something like that. (Not really)
Those wings disappeared.
My salad came soon after that.
A pretty salad, huge cucumber slices, large tomato chunks and thickly chopped lettuce with four or five croutons and a fistful of grated white (Provel) cheese.
Those among you that have followed this review site for a while know I have a couple of problems with that description. You know I don't like fussing with/cutting up salad ingredients. Sure, big thick toppings make a salad pretty, but salad bowls are not chopping blocks and the only blunt instrument available before the steak arrives is a butter knife that has the cutting capacity of those plastic kindergarten scissors. There will be spillage.
Not an instant black mark, more of a petty personal preference thing.
 My pimp* took me to a restaurant a couple of weeks back that offered a 'chopped' salad. Everything in it was chopped to the size of coleslaw. Loved it! When I make salads myself I make it somewhere in between, precisely so I don't have to fuss with it at the table.
The house vinaigrette was fine, a basic oil and vinegar dressing, nothing fancy or special.
Maddie came by a few times, each time engaging in conversation. I liked her. She was smart, friendly, and she certainly knew her menu.
Finally the entrees arrived with a few surprises, mostly in the portion size department.

My steak looked great, beautifully seared. The mashed potatoes were cooked dirty style, which I like, but there was a lot of them. Adam looked at the bowl and said that it looked like a serving for the entire family. Well, it could be worse, it could be too small. They tasted great though. I've had problems with a lot of places over-salting mashed potatoes. Not here though, the taste and texture of these were perfect. They'd offered gravy, which I'd refused. Angel, I'm sure, was thinking that turning down gravy was tantamount to high blasphemy.
The steak tasted great. I have to say though, it was tougher than I'd expected. Not shoe leather tough, just not top quality cut tender. I've had tougher steak, heck, I've cooked tougher steaks, but still, I have to mention it.
Angel's pasta dish was enormous. We've come to expect this. We're not sure why this occurs, pasta is very,
very filling. It's basically all starch so it bloats a person quickly. When we make pasta at home we use it sparingly. Pasta all tastes exactly the same, which isn't a lot, until you put sauce on it. The sauce and the sauce's ingredients are what make a satisfying dish. Too much pasta, like too much bread on a sandwich, actually detracts from the experience. According to Angel, the pasta was very dense as well. She really appreciated the chopped asparagus bits though. Some of the seafood nuggets, though quite tasty and plentiful, were chopped fine and hard to extract individually.

Adam's sandwich was obviously enormous. The chicken slab was bigger than the bun and most small animals we've maintained over the years. The taste, he pointed out, was "quite good", just too big, and the fries. . .too many to finish.
Hmmm, Spotting a trend here?
Summary:
I learned that the new managers/owners came form Joey B's in St. Louis. That's certainly not a rookie enterprise. Joey B's is an acclaimed and well known chain of restaurants in metro St. Louis. To have come up through there is a pretty good culinary pedigree.
Maddie was absolutely great, she came up from a popular St. Louis food truck herself, (The Cheese Shack) having started with them at the age of thirteen. She knew her stuff, answered all questions, was engaging and completely knowledgeable. She kept us refilled and the courses were delivered in perfect timing. She even tried to sell us on dessert, not knowing us well enough to know we don't usually leave room for dessert. She recommended the new 'Killer Bread Pudding'. Three  words I've never thought of putting together in the same sentence. We declined politely.
As for the food, well, the wings were simply outstanding. Everything else was quite tasty. We were not disappointed at all with the flavors.
The price was spot on for an appetizer and three big entrees, $65, about what you'd pay at a franchise sports bar.
But.
Adam nailed it, portion proportion.
The mashed potatoes were the worst offender. I've never seen any single individual eat that much mashed potatoes in a single day. The amount of pasta on Angel's plate was enough to feed a small village in Asia or Italy or wherever pasta comes from. Adam's chicken slab was enormous. None of us finished our meals. In other words, we paid for a lot of food we didn't actually eat.
As we were packing up, Maddie asked about take-home boxes. Angel and Adam said sure, then she looked at me and asked if I wanted a box for the mashed potatoes. . . . uh, no.
How much food goes out in take-out boxes?
I'll say it again, the food tasted just fine, they've got the recipes pretty much nailed.
A lot of recipes. A whole lot of recipes.
I was a little concerned about the sheer amount of diverse offerings. I'm no restaurateur, but I do watch a bunch of them on TV. I know that a place that has a big and wildly diverse menu selection often has a problem with inventory. Ingredients, if they are any good, have a very short shelf life. If you are going to offer pizza, burgers, sandwiches, seafood, pasta and other entrees, you have to have all the ingredients on hand, all day, every day. That's a big upfront cost. Some of it, if not most of it will get frozen or tossed. Freezing is a texture killer. Almost every thing, once frozen will even taste different when served. It doesn't take academy trained taste buds to discriminate between fresh anything and the frozen version.
I'm not saying that Local House has this problem, but it is a concern since so many other places with similar menu diversity have gone under either from the higher than average upfront food costs, or the quality degradation from the kitchen being stretched too thin.  I didn't really notice any problems like that this visit, so they may have really, really good controls in place. Time will tell.
And we will be back. They did just open a month or so ago, so as always with a new place, my remarks and rebukes are annotated with an asterisk. They're new, but we have a list of things to check on when we do go back.
You've got to try those wings, even if they don't have fish tacos.
Oh yeah, as also is my custom, I'll ask: Local House, Can you please, please have at least one of those 15 TV's tuned to another channel?




*Pimp. That's what we contractors affectionately call our consulting company representatives, also lovingly referred to as headhunters. They pitch our 'talents' to prospective clients and pocket a sizable fee up front. It's not meant disparagingly.

Pasta House

1806 Galemore St.
Festus, Mo.
On the Web
On Facebook

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trattoria Giuseppe

5442 Old Hwy 21
Imperial, MO
http://www.trattoria-giuseppe.com/

There was no ‘choice’ involved this weekend. It was the eve of Angel’s birthday, an event that only happens rarely. Several years can actually pass between one of her birthdays and the next, at least that’s the only way I can reconcile her age-math.

Trattoria Giuseppe is her favorite place to eat, far and above any other place. It’s pretty high on my list as well. It’s a bit pricier than the dives and chains we typically review, but for the occasional occasion, it’s worth every penny.

This time we had a little help, from the distant past. A time-travelling check.

A couple of months ago I was browsing the interwebs and stumbled across the site for the Missouri Treasurer, the one that lists the state’s unclaimed funds. I’d visited there before, but this time was different. My name was listed.

At first I was reluctant, reminded of sting operations where parole violators, deadbeat dads and other scofflaws are sent offers for pro-game tickets or lottery winnings or big screen TV’s for the first 100 people in line. When the violators show up and check in they are arrested on the spot. And since my default position on any possibility of good fortune is ‘paranoia.’ I didn’t immediately file a claim.

The address listed was legitimate and about twelve years and three houses ago. It was only after I convinced myself that I was not in any trouble, and in fact had undergone an FBI background investigation (for a clearance) since then, I was probably good to go. So I filed. I dug up old correspondence proving myself at that old address, including a certificate from the Secretary of State addressed to me at that address indicating I had won a primary election. (seriously, I’ve done that twice.)

I checked the status frequently online, it went from 'received', to ‘pending’, to ‘verified’, to ‘approved’, to ‘pending check processing’ to ‘check sent’ in a bureaucratic break-neck speed of about sixty five days.

On the day of the birthday meal, the check arrived. Up until that point I had no idea how much it would be for. I assumed it was a small amount since I spent most of my early work life only dealing in small amounts. I didn’t know where it was from, perhaps a closed out bank account balance or something else I’d long since forgotten.

So here was money, sixty-five dollars and change, from my past, a time-travelling wad of cash.

The Place:

Located in Imperial, actually closer to Otto, on old Highway 21 near M Highway. It shares a parking lot with a bar and an auto parts store, about as unlikely and unassuming location as can be found. There’s very minimal signage, no flashing lights or valet parking. To say it was understated would be an understatement.

Nothing had changed since our last visits. The door opened into a foyer with a small bar to the left and modes seating areas on the right. We had reservations (advised but not mandatory) and were quickly seated. On the modest, muted, striped wall-papered walls were photos and posters of Italian-ish things, including a mural of a Mediterranean coastline. The staff scurried about in their Black pants and crisp white shirts., the place , even early on a Saturday was already half filled.

We were handed menus and asked about drinks, tea, tea and coke. The waitress rattled off the ‘special’ steak Oscar, which I recalled having ordered on a previous visit. It’s a New York strip covered in a sauce with mushrooms and provel cheese. I found the sauce a bit too rich for my liking when I’d had it. It’s a provel thing.

The Food:

I’d already decided I wanted a steak rather than pasta. Angel was certain to get her usual. Adam usually gets some form of chicken. We were rather surprised when he ordered a steak, the pepper loin fillet, medium rare. Normally, on the medium rare occasions that he actually orders steak it is cremated, a few degrees from being a pile of ashes. We, of course, asked him about this. “I thought I’d try a steak like it’s supposed to be cooked.” He said. Our little boy is growing up (sniff, sniff.)

House Salad

Along with his steak he asked for bowtie pasta with a white sauce. I also ordered a steak, a NY strip, medium rare, and sided a baked potato.

Angel, as expected, asked for the tutto mare (‘all from the sea’, roughly translated.) It’s a bed of linguini and piled high with clams, mussels, shrimp, mushrooms and tomatoes covered in a garlic butter sauce. If you like things like that it’s probably heavenly. Angel sure likes it. Each of the meals came with the house salad.

Our complimentary bread was delivered first, with our drinks. The bread was rather plain, white with a brown crust, and lacked any specific Mediterranean flavor. However, adding a little pepper to a puddle of olive oil as a dip transformed it to a luscious appetizer.

The tea was dark, clear and fresh, quite good.

Steak and Pasta

There was a pleasant pause for the entrée’s, a place like this doesn’t and shouldn’t rush. The salads came soon enough and were exceptional. Some lettuce, a few rings of red onion, a couple of cherry tomatoes, a pair of olives, a fat peperoncini (chili pepper) topped with small shards of asiago cheese and coated with the splendid, almost sweet, house dressing. This is by far one of the best pre-made salads in the area.

The entrée’s finally arrived, expertly delivered by the always-professional wait staff.  Our steaks were thick and seared black and crunchy. The potato was foil wrapped and cooked to tender perfection.

I watched Adam, he was cautious at first, but in no time had picked up speed and devoured his entire chunk of cow. Angel picked apart the clams and other snotty offerings, eating less pasta to save room for the slimy nuggets.

Tutto Mare

The steaks were cooked perfectly the exact right amount of pink. It was tender and a little peppery. The ‘steak butter’ melted and flowed, juicing the meat up nicely. The potato had nothing but butter and sour cream, and since it was so perfectly cooked, needed nothing else.

Adam finished first, and completely. Angel left a bit of pasta behind, and I just couldn’t absorb the last couple of bites of steak. That didn’t deter us though, when asked we accepted the offer of desserts, to go. Angel, the chocolate-chocolate-chocolate cake, Adam and I the New York style cheesecake, mine with strawberries.

Summary:

A forgone conclusion. We absolutely love this place. It’s a bit bizarre to find such an exquisite eatery, professional and top-notch in every respect, out here in the boonies. But it is there, and it is well known, for good reason. The management, staff, menu and atmosphere are A-one in nearly every respect. Giuseppe Prezzavento has himself quite the operation, he also has class and mad food skills. Every time we’ve been there he takes time to step out of the kitchen and greet every table of guests. Humble and appreciative, he is the consummate courteous professional.

The only thing that keeps us from eating there more often is the price. The night’s full meal and deserts came in at eighty dollars and change. We simply cannot do that very often. Not that it is not worth it, but it certainly does make special occasions a bit more special.

When you’re in the mood to spoil yourself this is definitely a prime spot to do so.

Highest recommendations, all around!