Blind Date with Organic Pasta House

I had a blind date with an organic pasta house yesterday. I had caught glimpses of it before, but it was elusive; a southside haunt that I just hadn't ventured into yet: Stellina. It's an odd place; it's hard to pin down. That's one reason I've never embraced it before. It looks and feels like a coffee shop, but the food is faaaan-cy! [note--these photos are swiped from their website...]









Unsure of what I was in for, I didn't actually order their pasta. I played it safe with a salad; it was lunch, after all, and I had a long afternoon of work ahead of me. And the gym. And a night out. I just wasn't in a place in my life where I could handle a big lump of heavy food in my belly.

First things first, though: Oh holy hummus. This stuff was pretty darn good. I haven't decided how committed I am to it yet, but I'd put it in my top 5, up there with the former Blackberry and the Hummus Place in NYC. It was creamy, first off. I can't figure out how they make hummus creamy; I've blended, added oil, added water, gone light on the tahini, but I dunno. This stuff was good. But what makes or breaks a hummus, I've realized, is the accompanying bread. This place offered the standard pita, but it was toasted on a panini grill, so those nice little ridges were there. Plus it was salty. And then on the side was a pile of olives. My fellow lunchers teased me about not partaking, but I snagged a few roasted red peppers and that was taaaaaaasty!!!The house salad didn't have a hard time winning me over; it had me at "beets." Here's what's in it:

Mixed greens, beets, garbanzo beans, feta cheese, red onion, kalamata olives, sunflower seeds, balsamic vinaigrette.

Ok so it doesn't sound mind-blowing, but again, it's lunch, I've never been here before, you know, I'm chill, I'm playing it cool. But dang, it was good! Dressing was light, definitely balsamicy, but not too salty or tart. Not too over-
whelming. It's been a long time sincce I put seeds or beans in my salad, so that was a fun addition. But the best part, the best part, the part that intrigued me from first glance at the menu, were those little roasted beets. They were dark red and the perfect texture and surprisingly, they tasted like vanilla. I don't know if that was on purpose or just the stars aligning, but wow. But I'm getting off on a tangent.

The real story is the pasta. Again, like I said, I didn't order it. I don't even remember everything that was in it, and I can't look it up because it was a daily special. I don't even think I took a picture of it! But I did steal glances; I did surreptitiously ogle it from afar. I did feel a fluttering. And I did, yes I did get to try my neighbor's and sweet jesus, this stuff was good. It was a whole wheat house-made pasta with hidden gems of fresh mozzarella, just barely melty, and asparagus that was probably roasted or maybe sauteed, and the kicker: shitakes. These were magical mushrooms. They were most certainly the aphrodisiac of the dish, as their wooing was relentless after just one taste. They lingered on for a long while.

So needless to say, I'm intrigued; I'll have to go back. I'd like to try another date with Stellina in a more intimate setting. Perhaps in the evening. Perhaps with a nice glass of wine... this time with the freedom to really explore its personality and charm. I mean, I already know we share beets, mushrooms, and hummus in common; now we just have to see what the future holds for us!!! Cheers to my matchmaker!

Beer bread let down

So I went back to my favorite work lunch place, Schlafly Bottleworks, specifically to eat the yummy beer bread. I know, right? It doesn’t sound like my cup of tea. But this bread is fresh, it’s a wonderful texture, nice and heavy, and has a really good bread flavor. It’s brown, so you think you’re eating whole grains, which makes a body happy. (I don’t know if you are or not.) The accompanying butters are no joke, either: chive butter and some sort of white cheese. Wow! I first experienced this a couple of months ago with a pal visiting from New York (this was another meal I ate consisting completely of sides).

Suffice it to say we were wowed. I mean, we were wowed enough that when she returned months later, our phone conversation went something like this:

Friend: “Meg, beer bread.”

Me: “Yeah. Wednesday.”

So we go and before we order we’re like, “Listen, Tim; whatever about your specials. Can we get some beer bread?”

It was so good! Warm, crumbly, heavy yet light, and oh so flavorful. Can’t wait! Yay yay yayayayayay beeeeeeeeer bread!

But, uh, this was not the same. First, it was greasy. It seemed deep-fat-fried. I doubt it was (that’s just weird), but maybe they used a lot of oil? Then the butters. Oh the butters. If I’m going to violate my no-butter clause, then it had better be for a good reason. These butters were not good reasons. The chive butter looked the same, but the flavor was very blah. And the white one they said was a blue cheese cream cheese, which I KNOW can’t be the same, because I’m allergic to blue. We asked, they said for sure it was the same, no way, they hadn’t changed recipes in all the years the waiter’d been working there, but maybe a different sous-chef cooked it? Eh, whatevs.

So we let Tim tell us the specials. He says they have a salad special with locally grown mushrooms and some other stuff, and I cut him off and say, “OK I”ll take that.” I figure, I heart the vanilla vinaigrette salad, I’ve ordered it millions of times, it’s always good, so I trust Schalfly’s salads. And I figure, if they have the produce to create a salad on special, it’s got to be good!

But no again! Jeez! Bad day for the Bottleworks. The salad was greens, mushrooms (albeit locally grown shitakes), cheddar cheese (?!?!), lots of red onion, and what they said was a honey mustard dressing (but which tasted like Ireland’s version of “salad dressing” which is mayonnaise). It was so very so. Not even a so, actually, just an s, in my ranking system (so so/so/s). Boo.

Conversation: check

Iced tea: pretty good

Ambiance: like it.

But food today:_________________

I’ll leave that blank. So sad. I guess you shouldn’t knock a solid goat/green salad; at least you know what you’re getting.

Anyway, I'm not out for blood. Everyone gets a free pass for mediocrity. Just one, though...!

BS

The search for the great plate of BS (Brussels sprouts) all began at a dinner party at my friend’s house. His fiancé’s sister replicates the family recipe of roasted Brussels sprouts in a white wine vinaigrette with pecans. This was my first experience.

Here’s what she does:
1. cuts in half
2. roasts 20 mins
3. stirs in pecans
4. tosses with mustard/white wine vinaigrette

Ok at least that’s what I remember of her recipe.

Here’s what I thought:
1. wow
2. hmmm…
3. mmmm….
4. that’s not bad
5. in fact, I like it. Yes, I like it.

Here’s what I thought in the days following:
1. I gotta get me some BRUSSLES SPROUTS
2. Mmmmm……… Brussels sprouts!
3. Wha? Huh? Brussels sprouts!

They are a slow burn, I guess.

So when I went to 1111 Mississippi (freaking phenomenal) and BS were on the menu, I jumped at the chance. (I also ate a meal consisting totally of sides). (see the back corner)

Here’s what they were like:
1. small
2. overcooked
3. lacking all seasoning

Here’s what I thought:
1. hm…
2. mmm…
3. that’s about it

But again, in the days following:
1. I gotta get me some BRUSSLES SPROUTS
2. Mmmmm……… Brussels sprouts!
3. Wha? Huh? Brussels sprouts!

So I decided to make my own, and this coincided with my fall-themed first ever Vegan Supper Club Dinner Party at my friends’ house (the cupcake ones).

I winged it. Here’s what I did:
1. cut off ends, cut X into base, boil
2. meanwhile, toast pecans in dry skillet; add brown sugar, nutmeg, and cinnamon
3. whisk Dijon, white wine vinegar, olive oil
4. toss

Here’s what I thought:
Honey!

Here’s what I did:
1. stir in honey
2. taste: ohmygod, they are nutty, and sweet, and tangy, and crunchy, and tender, and green, and spicy, and oliveoily, and wow, and ohmy, and dang I’m good, and…
3. OH SHIT!!! These are vegans!!!! They don’t eat HONEY!!!
4. decide not to tell them
5. call my sister to make sure it’s OK not to tell them
6. get advised to tell them
7. decide still not to tell them (I’m really sorry if you’re reading this! Keep in mind it spanned only a few seconds…)
8. become overwrought with fear and worry that one of them is a vegan because of a secret honey allergy
9. remember the chicken stock incident
10. despair
11. admit defeat

So I went to VSC, confessed my wrongs, and as it turns out, they all were willing to eat honey, this one time. The only problem was I overcooked them in the end. Ugh.


Still good, just a little mushy.

Try again: Thanksgiving dinner for 25. Same recipe, but this time I remember NOT to overcook them. But when reheating, again, a little overdone. Dang. But still fabulous nonetheless.

Work Lunch

Work lunch; ugh. How do you find a place that satisfies everyone’s food preferences, when everyone comes from such different life stages and styles? (READ: how do I psychologically, physically, and emotionally survive the trans-fats burger joint? Eeegads!).

We had a meeting today to discuss work-related activities and I recommended SCHLAFLY BOTTLEWORKS. Schlafly is a favorite of mine, partly because they boast the same philosophy that NTPH does—all fresh, locally-grown produce. In fact, I think Schlafly grows their own out back. Sweet! But the beauty is, it still looks like a “pub,” it smells like a brew house, and it has “burgers” on the menu (albeit organic, free-range, grass-fed bison burgers). So it’s a good choice for us.

My favorite thing about it, besides the philosophy, is the menu. The food here is so so good. Unfortunately, they deleted the black soy bean hummus from the menu a couple years ago, which was the clear winner. But its replacement, a regular chick-pea hummus with feta, kalamata olives, and red onions on top, is still quite good. Even better, however are the accompanying breads (in fact, this little bowl of hummus for $4.99 totally beats the baldy-patch $12 cheese plate from NTPH!).

The pita is fresh and very light, house made probably, but fresh-baked definitely. It’s not so much toasted as warmed, and it’s topped with some herbs that include dill weed (so underused in the bread world!). It’s nice and salty, too, so it goes well with the creamy/garlicy hummus. Then there is the real winner (and another food enigma that’s just so darn enticing)—a type of dried out flatbread or cracker, seemingly homemade, that has this delightful mystery flavor (cloves? nutmeg?) behind the grains, salt, and garlic. I’ve eaten this at least 10 times, and still, I can’t place it. Gosh it’s good. Ok so it’s a secret, and I’ve learned my lesson about food secrets, but I don’t think this one is chicken stock. (Oh god, is it chicken stock?!).

Anyway, suffice it to say that I’m a fan, my mother’s a fan, my friends are fans, I mean everyone who is anyone is a fan. It’s hummus, dang it, and a good one at that!

But my 3 coworkers (from different “life styles and stages”), had never had hummus. Beans, yuck. What’s feta? And olives?????? (Ok I admit I’m still waging the olive battle with myself… winner TBD). Noses were upturned when the waitress delivered it. I encouraged one to dig in, and she did, like a sport, taking the least threatening pita wedge, spreading a thin layer of the hummus across the surface. (I, on the other hand, figure this is my protein for the day, so I glob whole tablespoonfuls on it and chow down). (OK and it’s also because I heart it!) She kept it down and sort of admitted to it being “OK” and “pretty mild.” The other two were much more skeptical, and I really had to explain to them that it’s simply beans, garlic, cheese, salt; but again, beans, yuck, right?! One gave in, tried a little, conceded that it was “OK,” and left it at that. But the third made some serious faces at it. It was like a child physically rejecting the taste and texture of liver—and she hadn’t even tasted it yet! She barely choked down a mouse bite before refusing altogether. Whatever. More fore me. Jeez.

In the mean time, I got my salad. First, I should say, it’s the standard greens/goat combo: greens are greens (although locally grown), goat is goat, toasted almonds are unusual only because people have been so into walnuts lately, and then the totally unnecessary croutons. But this one also boasts two phenomenal additions. First, the dressing is a vanilla vinaigrette; Oh my! It’s like cookies in my salad! Plus, the vinaigrette is nice and oily (I’d say they err on the side of olive oil like me) and coats the leaves really well. And then there are the wild mushrooms, an addition you can choose. I SO love this! Often you get the choice of grilled chicken, or maybe, maybe, salmon, but this is great—locally farmed wild mushrooms, roasted on site, TOSSED IN VANILLA VINAIGRETTE! The nerve! I would never have had the guts to mix a cookie with a fungus, but they do, and they rock it.

This is one restaurant that really has succeeded in all respects: it’s been going strong for several years, it gets the beer crowd, the organic foodie vegetarian crowd, the family crowd, the happy hour crowd, your crowd, my crowd, everyone we know’s crowd. But also they have a huge menu with such unusually diverse options as bison burgers, pistachio raviolis, beer bread, calzones, ahi tuna BLTs, I mean, wha? huh? It’s impressive. Again, foodie = yes. Restaurant reviewer = I have to say a 10. I have no complaints. It’s big and warehousey, so if you’re with someone with hearing aids it’s hard to converse, but besides that, they do it, without a doubt.

St. Louis Cheese Plate

So, as I’m a near vegan, I usually shy away from the cheese on principle. However, lately, I’ve been on a mission to find a good cheese plate, accompanied by a decent cab or zin. This search ensued all over New York, which seemed like the thing to do there, and now seems to have spilled over into St. Louis territory as well. I went to the Newstead Tower Public House in the Grove, St. Louis, MO last weekend. Their menu is sparse. Only a few appetizers, two salads, a handful of sandwiches, and maybe 3 or 4 entrees are available. One veggie-friendly item is included, which always scores points with me; but it’s a roasted vegetable sandwich. Blah. Boring, right? NTPH’s claim to use only locally-grown produce does kick it up a notch, but still; you might as well offer eggplant parmesan! Regardless, also offered was a cheese plate, with a suggested glass of wine, so I was down with what I fancy to be my east-coast M.O. The waitress informed us that 8 cheeses were available, and we requested “no blue” (I’m allergic). We end up with a goat, a gruyere, a feta, and a brie. Very very uninteresting choices, indeed. And the plate was quite bald: just wheat rounds accompanying it, no dried fruits, no berries, no smoked nuts, [NO MANCHEGO!], no nothing. Just cheese, bread, white plate. But the cheese was of decent quality and flavor, and we enjoyed it for what it was, even if we left thinking the usual Jackson Pollock knee-jerk: “I could do that.” The cab was so-so, but the Spanish wine, Juan Gil Monastrell, was nice and spicy and full-bodied, a little fruity, with hints of cherry licorice, but not tart. It worked for me.

Having consumed quite a bit of cheese (well beyond my range of acceptable dairy consumption), I ordered a salad for dinner and my partner ordered the mushroom puree soup. The salad was greens (too much frisee) and goat cheese (didn’t really need any more cheese), dull, dull, boring, boring. However, I was surprised and pleased by two additions to the salad: instead of croutons or nuts, NTPH grilled what appeared to be small cubes of crusty Italian bread, creating a wonderfully charred flavor, yet still soft centered. The grill flavor is something I NEVER mess with, as I leave open flames to the men. But this was delightful, really; such a nice flavor to go with the standard greens and goat combo. And the second surprise was the vinaigrette—a simple red wine/olive oil mix. The only difference was it was SO vinegary—really tart and tangy. I always err on the side of olive oil, but this I really enjoyed! Now the vinegary-vinaigrette may have been an accident (I do 4 shakes per person, so maybe they did 6 shakes or 8 by accident), but nevertheless, it inspired me to try to rein in my heavy olive oil hand in the future.

And the mushroom puree soup: three flavors: mushrooms (pureed), veggie stock, celery seed. The fact that I could identify the tastes was both exciting and disappointing. Usually, I like to be intrigued by what I’m eating, ever guessing, you know. But this was quite clear. On the other hand, by knowing, I felt a renewed sense of commitment to simple foods (natural flavors, no hubbub) and also relieved that I wasn’t secretly eating a pound of butter or chicken stock.

Were I restaurant reviewer and not just a foodie, I would give NTPH an 7 of 10. I really liked it there—friendly, nice but not too fancy, menu options I can live with, and a philosophy I totally jive with. But I’d vote that they should think more about interesting-up their stuff. Good raw materials are key; but it never hurts to throw a few nuts on the fire.