Fried Brain Sandwich

Chipotle Mexican Grill opened its Clayton outlet on the corner of Forsyth and Central last week. On Wednesday it ran a free Burrito promotion and lines snaked out the door all day. On Thursday, the crowds were manageable and I got in for a taste.

Let me say up front (and often) that I think it's a great chain--probably one of the best in the country. But I have issues. The experience is very much food as assembly line--think Subway on steroids. Prior to hitting the line, you are prepped with a manifesto cheerfully concealed as menu, "First time to Chipotle? Here's how it works." Everything is designed to minimize the "dawdle" factor. Not a bad thing, unless of course you are one who likes to mull over options. Henry Ford realized early on that options slow down the assembly line -- thus his famous quip, "any color as long as it's black." You have some choices at Chipotle, but not many. Soft corn tortillas - sorry. A couple of sprigs of cilantro - it's in the rice. A squeeze of lime, some diced pineapple, grated radish - nope, nada, not today. There are in fact four choices of salsa. The hottest -- a Tomatillo-Red Chili number with a smoky complex tang -- doesn't hit the red line on the Scoville scale. The problem is that they are only available to the workers on other side of the line. No salsa bar. If you ask, they will cheerfully give you a side of salsa. But you have to ask and that adds to the dawdle factor.

There's only one product at Chipotle -- the burrito. Everything else is a variation on that theme. Burrito without the tortilla--that's a Burrito Bol. Burrito not wrapped--that's the Tacos (also without the rice and beans). This is fine. Know what you do and do it well. The burrito itself is several Degrees of Separation from its Tex-Mex kin. The proximate inspiration is the Mission Burrito, a weighty slug of rice, beans, meat, and condiments wrapped tightly in a steam saturated flour tortilla that became a defining food of the San Fransisco's Mission District in the 80's and 90's.

My issue with Chipotle really isn't Chipotle. They do all kinds of right things. Their meat comes from animals raised with room to roam and without antibiotics or grow factor supplements. The food is fresh, without trans fats or added sugars. The are arguably an example of Slow Food fast food. Packaging is minimal using unbleached paper. The design is a kind of cheerful industrial chic, using recycled content in the unadorned galvanised and stainless steel.

My issue is the Chipotlians -- the fans who rave about the "great Mexican food". I heard this phrase bobbing out of the buzz at several places in Clayton last week. Lookit, A, it is not Mexican food. B, it is great only in the context of fast food. In a broader context it rates, maybe, "pretty good". This is not a curmungendly rant on the semantics of Mexican food (well it is, but there's more). The deeper point is about what chains (even very good chains) do to food. Diversity is a really good thing in food. Choice is a really good thing. I fume about not having more choices for garnishes on my tacos (I prefer the tacos to the burrito -- I can skip the rice and they will do an assortment of meats). If I really didn't want to put up with it, I could go somewhere else -- if there is somewhere else to go. Biological diversity is destroyed when agribuisness focuses on a dozen profitable crops and herbicides everything else into submission. Main street diversity is destroyed when Big Box Mart opens a superstore out by the highway. Food chains (even very good ones) destroy diversity by codifying and promoting a single vision of what a product should be. The scores of SF taquerias created choices -- choirizo, lenqua (beef tongue), sesos (brain) or Briria (goat) -- not necessarily ones that everyone wants. But that's part of the energy, the excitement of food; being able to go down the block and see how the other guy does it -- the antithesis of the stultifying sameness of most chains.

If the Chipotlians are stepping up from Taco Bell or JIB -- great. Forsyth and Central is the hot corner of Clayton. Krispy Kream couldn't make it and before that there was a Taco Bell. Chipotle has pushed them aside. What a very different world it would be if Chipotle was the bottom rung on the food ladder. But it is up to Chipotlians to get us there. Go have your Carnitas burrito this week. But go down the street to ZuZu's the next day. And check out Chuy's and Arceila's next week. And after that Primo Taqueria, El Burrio Loco, or Taqueria El Torito. Then come back and we can talk about "Best Mexican."

30 plus restaurants were slinging hash under the trees in Shaw Park on a spectacular June day at the 15th annual Taste of Clayton. Mild temperatures, a crisp northwest breeze, and mostly sunny skies kept the crowds flowing in. By 3:00 pm all of the tables were occupied and the paths were full of people taking a bite of the last thing they bought while on the lookout for the next thing to try.

As a general rule, these events are not immediate money-makers for the restaurants. The organizers take a cut (thus the tickets to make sure no one is keeping double books). Staffing, rentals, and supplies take another big chunk of the proceeds. Most places chalk it up under PR and advertising, strutting their stuff for upwards of 30,000 people on single Sunday afternoon. For new restaurants -- Oceano Bistro (opened 3 weeks), Chipotle (opened 1 week), Sage (yet to open) -- it's a chance to make a first impression. Established places are there to drum up new customers, remind old customers to come back, or just because the guy down the street is there. Some places step up to challenge of putting out a good product while still doing all of their regular restaurant stuff, others seem to be phoning it in.

Two booths stood out above the rest -- Mercer's Ice Cream and Sage Restaurant. Not surprisingly neither has an operation elsewhere to run and so could pull out all the stops. I have more to say about each in separate posts.

There are two basic strategies in figuring out what to serve at a food festival. The obvious play is to offer items from your menu. This works great if you already serve easy-to-walk-and-eat food. Chipotle set up a taco assembly line, Kaldi's had coffee and pastry, SanSai had their grilled meats and crisp salads.

Upmarket places with involved preparations or ever-changing menus take a different approach. They need to create something that reflects who they are, but that also passes the walk-and-eat test. Villa Farotto (a white tablecloth spot out in Chesterfield catering to affluent suburbanites) nailed it with a street fair classic -- Italian sausage on a bun with grilled peppers and onions. Probably not an item on their regular menu, but the quality of the ingredients and the skill of preparation were evident. The fennel in the sausage sang from beneath a generous pile of thickly sliced peppers and onions that had been sauteed and then moistened with a light tomato sauce.

In the what-were-they-thinking category was the Ritz-Carlton Hotel. They usually have the poshest presentation at these kinds of events -- perhaps a pepper encrusted roast tenderloin. Maybe it was the price of beef. Maybe they are trying to rebrand their image. But the grilled pork on pita with olive salad and Feta cheese was a real clunker. The pita seemed stale and the Feta was applied too haphazardly, downing out whatever flavor the pork was trying to contribute.

New restaurants usually do a soft opening -- for the first couple of days they bring in family, friends, and the new neighbors for a shakedown cruise. Usually the food is on the house and you just pay for the booze you drink. The kitchen and waitstaff get to figure out how the place really works and how the traffic really should flow (as opposed to what it says on the blueprints).

Restaurant Sage took advantage of Taste of Clayton on Sunday to do a pre pre-opening. The restaurant is looking to be up and running by mid-July in the former digs of the Lynch Street Bistro (1031 Lynch Street, St. Louis). Chef Jack Mac Murray turned out his culinary brigade in force at Shaw Park, complete with a full mini-kitchen.

A charcoal grill at the back was cranking out 15 Spice Ribs. The meat was moist without being mushy. They ribs had not been smoked, but did have a rich flavor from the spice mixture which included some adobe paste.

Twin deep fat fryers were set up down one side perpendicular from the grill. Out of them came Crispy Cha-Cha Calamari -- flash-fried squid dunked in an Asian Aioli. The effect was captivating. The crisp hot breading and the soft/chewy flesh were in perfect tandem. The aioli sparkled in your mouth with a citrus/garlic tang.

A cold station stood across from the fryers. From it came the Shanghai Steak and Noodle Salad. What a kick-ass salad. Chunks of mango, shreds of Napa, and slivers of carrots were tossed with noddles, mint, and basil in a screaming rice vinegar, sesame oil, chili paste dressing. Three or four slices of chewy, peppery beef were laid on top and the whole thing rocked your mouth with every bite. Most Asian salads you find in St. Louis tend to be sedate, solemn, gaze-at-the-water-lilies-from-the-bridge affairs. When they are assertive it is more often from a bungled hand on the sesame oil bottle. Mac Murry displayed a Kurosawa deftness with his ingredients--each shouting for attention, each playing its role in a larger gustatory kaleidoscope.

Owner John Schute describes the Sage concept as Urban American Grille. This narrows it down just about not at all. Judging by my First Taste of Mac Murry's cooking, "Urban" is going to mean brash and diverse, a swirl of inspirations. It is also going to mean a great addition to the St. Louis food scene.

One of the standouts at the Taste of Clayton on Sunday was selling ice cream. Not just any ice cream. This was Mercer's Wine Ice Cream. Mercer's is a collection of nine Lewis County farm families in upstate New York. They began producing a collection of Wine Ice Creams about a year ago.

When I walked by the booth the first time, I thought this was just a gimmicky merchandising ploy. But I was in my taste-everything mode and so I ordered a cup of Peach White Zinfandel. It was the real deal -- the flavor immediately pops in you mouth. Peachy, creamy, rich, wonderful and well mildly, intoxicating. According to the label, the ice cream contains up to 5% alcohol by volume and you must show your ID to have some. More importantly, it was not a gimmick. I tried the Red Raspberry Chardonnay. I am normally skeptical of raspberry concoctions. I love raspberries, but they can easily overpower. The pale red color was a good sign. The raspberries were in check and playing nice with everything else. And it had a distinct chardonnay taste. The Royal White Riesling clearly tasted of Riesling -- crisp and refreshing but also creamy and smooth. The Ala Port was the only mild disappointment of the group -- very good its own right but not registering any "porty" notes.

A local company -- Frost on the Vine -- has the distribution rights in St. Louis. They will be doing tastings at Straub's in a couple of weeks and are in negotiations with other area supermarkets. They are also interested in talking with restaurants interested in a high quality adult ice cream. So far Wine Ice Cream has only been available in New York and Washington D.C. St. Louis is lucky to catch an early wave of what may soon be a hot national product.

Late Update: Mercer's took the "Best New Dessert Award" at the Great American Dessert Expo in Atlanta this weekend.

For more info contact Nicholas Watson at 314 280-5623 or email at frostonthevine@charter.net

A few years ago my bridge buddy Eryk hosted a party to celebrate the EU expansion (Eryk never needed much of a reason for a party). It was a pot-luck affair with each of us assigned to bring a dish from one of the new EU countries. Lucky me, I got Estonia. Pop quiz. For 10 points each, fill in the blank. Estonia, land of the ...? The national food of Estonia is ... ? Estonia leads the world in per capita consumption of ...? 0-for-3? Join the club. But after a couple clicks on the Internet, the fog began to lift.

It turns out that Estonia is cut through with rivers and steams emptying into the Baltic. Two items popped out of from a list of regional food stuffs -- crawfish and fiddlehead ferns. On a different site I came across a recipe for an Estonia vegetable and potato salad using sour cream as the binder. I redid the salad incorporating the ferns and the crawfish while trying to lighten the sour cream. I can't vouch for whether an Estonian would have thought it "authentic" or at least familiar. But I wasn't very happy with it. Once the first dollop of sour cream was folded in, the salad became too leaden for my sensibilities.

I was reminded of all this the other day when I came across a "cello" bag of fiddlehead ferns at Schnucks (cello is food-speak for cellophane packaging). I still liked the idea of pairing them with crawfish in a salad, but 86 the sour cream. For technique I turned to one of my favorite dishes -- Potatoes Vinaigrette -- thickly sliced creamer potatoes tossed with a simple vinaigrette. Dill is a classic companion with crawfish in the Baltic so that would be the primary note in the dressing along with fresh parsley. The crawfish and potatoes would be fairly soft and the fiddleheads would be firm, but not really crunchy. So I needed a textual element that could make a complimentary contribution. I decided on fresh fennel.

A Salad of Fiddlehead Ferns, Crawfish, Fennel, and Potatoes

Slice the creamer potatoes into 1/3 inch discs with the skin on. Place them into a pot and cover with water. Add a tablespoon of salt and bring to a boil. The potatoes will cook quickly, perhaps in as little as 5 minutes once the water is boiling. Remove and drain once the potatoes are done. Do not overcook.

Trim away the stems of the fiddlehead ferns. Bring 4 quarts of water to a boil and add a tablespoon of salt. Place them carefully into the boiling water. My approach is similar to working with asparagus, although fiddleheads are little stringier. Taste one after 3 minutes. They should be firm but without any crunch. Remove when they are done and drain (Fiddleheads have a lot of iron in them and will darken the water -- don't worry).

Trim any blemishes from the fennel and then slice into julienne pieces about 2 inches long. Set to the side.

To prepare the dressing, peel the shallots and slice them thinly into rings. Place them a mixing bowl and add the 5 ounces of vinegar. Chop the parsley and dill and add the vinegar along with 1/2 teaspoon of salt, an ample amount of freshly ground black pepper, and a pinch of sugar. If possible, let the mixture macerate for 20 minutes. Then whisk in the olive oil. The parsley and dill will create a slurry and help keep the oil and vinegar in suspension.

You need to carefully combine all of the ingredients. The ferns and potatoes are particularly vulnerable to breaking up. One approach is to use a half-sized sheet pan with a lip on the edge. Spread out the potatoes and then layer the fennel, crawfish, and fiddleheads over them. Finally pour the dressing over the whole lot. You can then carefully mix everything together. If your are feeling lucky, just gently toss everything in a large mixing bowl.

When I made this, the potatoes were still warm. This was quite nice, but would have to be served very soon after the crawfish were added. Alternatively, the ingredients can be chilled before combining everything. The interplay of tastes results in a mellowing of all of the elments. There was also an interplay of "green" tastes from the fiddleheads and the parsley. The overall effect was almost creamy. It needed an accent note, so I served the salad in a mound over arugula leaves which provided the right peppery bite.

8 Creamer Potatoes - medium sized
10 oz of Fiddlehead Ferns
1 bulb of fresh Fennel
1 large or 2 medium sized fresh shallots
5 oz of White Wine Vinegar
18 oz of Extra Virgin Olive Oil - not to "green"
1/2 cup of chopped Italian Parsley
3 tablespoons of diced fresh Dill
1/2 pound of cooked crawfish tail meat
Salt, Pepper, and a pinch of sugar.

Fresh Arugula

Mimi Reed has an article in today's NYT on people buying second homes as part of their evacuation planning -- Loving New Orleans, With a Ready Escape. Featured in it are two of my favorite people, JoAnn Clevenger (my mom) and Patrick Dunne (owner of the antique culinary store Lucullus on Chartres Street).

JoAnn and Alan (my stepfather) bought their second home last summer. They had spent the spring driving around central Louisiana and southern Mississippi looking for just the right place. They found it in Columbia Mississippi, a small county seat just across the state line north of Bogalusa, about a two hour drive from New Orleans.

The house is lovely, the people friendly and interesting (as JoAnn put it, "It's like living in a small town with some of my favorite Welty and Jane Austin characters, all of whom have been very kind to Alan and me."). But what really helped seal the deal was The Back Door Cafe, an upscale restaurant on Main Street owned by Fran and Mike Ginn. It does an eclectic mix of contemporary (medium rare grilled tuna) and southern (Caramel Cake, which JoAnn says tastes like she always wanted layer cakes to taste) cusines. As an extra zinger, Fran prepares "The Road" special -- a three course meal on a single theme -- that runs all week. Last week it was Shanghai, another week it was Morracan, and another it was Julia Child. JoAnn brought the Shanghai noodles with 5-spice ribs back to the Upperline and Chef Ken proclaimed it one best things he had ever eaten.

If you find yourself in southern Mississippi, stop by at The Back Door (lunch and dinner) and see whats on "The Road" for yourself.

The Back Door Cafe
705 Main Street
Columbia Mississippi (30 miles west of Hattiesburg).
(601) 736-1490

India's Rasoi is planning to relocate their Central West End location. They will move from the smallish space on 4569 Laclede around the corner into half of the ground floor in the Forest Park Hotel Apparments that once housed Harold's Deli.

Annother change on Euclid is the opening later this month of Pickles Deli in the site that was formerally the home of Strata.

If you've dropped by The Wine and Cheese Place on Forsyth in Clayton lately you may have noticed it. No, not the checkout counter that has moved from the left side to the right. Not the "gourmet" goods that have moved from the back of the store to the front. Something much more important. Take a sniff. It's still subtle but grows a little everyday. If they have recently roasted the nuts, you may need to walk over to the deli counter. It's the smell of cold pig and that's a very good thing.

We know (and love) the smell of hot pig in the morning, noon, or night -- bacon, spare ribs, pork chops, roast. But cold pig? Chalk it up to the FDA. Or to customers squeamish about meat that is not refrigerated. The smell of cured pig products -- salumi in Italian--is hard to find these days. It's the core constitute of the "old-world" aromas in places like Viviano & Sons or Volpi on the Hill in St. Louis or the Central Grocery in New Orleans.

But since May you have been able to smell, sample, and buy some of the best cold pig being produced in this country -- Salumi Artisan Cured Meats of Seattle. Salumi was co-founded by Armandino Batali, father of celebrity extreme-chef Mario Batali. The term salumi covers a range of cured meats (usually pork) that can be broadly categorized in two ways -- those made from single cut of meat such as shoulder or thigh (Coppa, Culatello, Proscuitto) and those made from minced, chopped, or ground meat stuffed into casings (Soppressata, Finccchiona, Cotto, etc). For the last few years foodies have been making the pilgrimage to the small storefront on Third Avenue South to sing the praises of Armandino's pig. If a round-trip ticket to Seattle seems too much effort to put out a plate of antipasti, you can order most items from their web site. But not everything. Not the Lardo.

Lardo. Cured pork fat studded with rosemary. John T. Edge suggests that the little extra 'o' is transformative -- "lard's leap towards transcendence." Bill Buford describes a dinner party / cult scene / communion with Mario Batali, in which the master placed a thin slice of Lardo on the tongue of each acolyte and proclaimed "Its the best song sung in the key of pig." An off-hand remark by Ian Froeb in his blog brought all of this back to me. Yes, Lardo is now available in St. Louis. What to do?

There's Lardo as communion wafer, a thin slice on the tongue. Take it like you do good chocolate. Don't chew. Let it sit there and melt away in the heat of your mouth. The first note is salt. But just as you think "salty", the idea is washed away by the riverlets of fat falling onto your tongue. If you are not ready for pure communion with a pig, John T. extols the simplicity of his favorite item at Salumi -- a slice of Lardo wrapped around a bread stick and briefly broiled. A pork pixie stick. You can spread it Nutella style on focaccia instead of butter. Or wrap grilled shrimp with a slice and then broil. All sound great, but there is a dish I have been dying to try -- Lardo pizza.

It was all the rage a few years ago in New York when it appeared on the menu at OTTO, Mario Batali's mid-level concept pizzeria/enoteca. No cheese. No sauce. It is simplicity itself, a pie draped in thin slices of Lardo, sprinkled with fresh rosemary and baked. The fat melts and infuses into the rising crust leaving behind ethereal slivers and tasting of pure pig. Because of the rarity of its one and only topping, the Lardo pizza has been slow to travel. I don't see the 30-minutes-or-it's-free guys rolling this out anytime soon. Kicking back on the sofa with a Lardo pie, a beer, and the remote is probably not a once a week thing. Make one for some friends. Serve it as a starter. Do thin wedges with cocktails. Make room for the transformative power of Lardo.

Preparation (terse):
- Make a pizza dough.
- Shape into a pie.
- Arrange thin slices of Lardo over the top.
- Sprinkle with fresh rosemary.
- Bake in a hot oven until done.

Preparation (verbose):
In a medium bowl combine the warm water and sugar and then stir in the yeast. Let it sit for about 5 minutes. The yeast will activate and begin to bloom and bubble. Add the olive oil, then the flour and salt. Work the contents with your fingers. The dough will be sticky at first but will soon clump onto itself rather than your hands. Once all of the dough has aggregated into a single mass, dump it onto a work surface and knead it vigorously for about 5 minutes, occasionally running it around the inside of your work bowl to blot up any flour that was left. Form the dough into a ball, Wipe out your bowl and then add a teaspoon more of olive oil to it, coating the lower half. Take the ball of dough and run it around the inside of the bowl so that it picks up a light coat of the oil. Cover the dough in the bowl with a towel. Set aside in a warm place with no drafts and allow to rise for an hour.

After rising, the dough should be spongy. Turn it out onto a floured surface and flatten into a disk, pushing out from the center. The melting Lardo will produce pools of oil that are gradually absorbed by the dough. You should form a slight lip around the edge of the dough to prevent the liquid from running off. Arrange the sheets of Lardo over the top of the dough and sprinkle with fresh rosemary (don't bother with the dried stuff). Pop the pizza into your hottest oven. Ideally it should be placed on a hot surface, a pizza stone for example. You can buy one or make your own by placing unglazed tiles on a sheet pan. The pizza should be done in about 8 minutes.

3/4 cup very warm water
1 teaspoon sugar
1 envelope dry active yeast
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 cups all purpose flour
3/4 teaspoons sea salt
1/6 pound thinly sliced Lardo
Fresh rosemary

I decided to check out EL Scorcho the other night after seeing a mention on Ian Froeb's RFT blog. It's on the western edge of Maplewood's restaurant row (7356 Manchester Road) next to the Tienda Centrol Americana convenience store. Knowing Ian's fondness for the Cherokee Street taqueria scene I thought it might be a mama y papa hole in the wall kind of place. Yeah, if Divine and John Waters had opened a Tex-Mex joint, this would be it.

From a small vestibule you enter a splinter of a restaurant. Cowboy hats and other western tschotskes (pinatas, armadillos, and whips, oh my) are hanging from the ceiling. 5 or 6 saddles-cum-barstools give way to regular stools in front of a bar sweeping out in front of you. The walls are a dappled rosy-orange suggesting that they had been painted with exploding habaneros. The bartender gives you a wave and a welcome and invites you to find a spot. All of the seating (except for the saddles) is on barstools -- about a dozen at the bar and another 30 or so at 8 or 9 tables along the wall. At the back is the "jail" -- think of it as a party room for 7 or 8 really close friends who don't mind some bumpin' and rubbin' (if you have one of those groups where everyone insists on having their own chair, then you may be able to squeeze in five folks).

The menu is printed on a thin piece of warped wood. There's plenty of smarmy marginalia ("Served w/I believe way too many tortilla chips", "Beans, Beans, good for the heart..") and cheesy names ("O' fashioned like Larry's wardrobe green beans"). It features lots of small plate opportunities that might remind you of Barcelona or Boogaloo (not surprising given that El Scorcho is another notch in the belt for the duo of Mike Johnson and Mark Lucas).

For all the kitsch (sign over kitchen door: "I didn't ask you to dance. I said your ass looks fat in those pants.") the food is first rate -- imaginative, fresh, and well executed. And for all the capsicum iconography splashed about, the food is surprisingly piquant-free -- a lesson in creating Tex-Mex flavors without covering everything in chilies. The hottest of the four salsas -- El Scorchoed -- is a creamy mustard colored concoction that has a nice kick but no real lasting burn. The BBQ (brisket, turkey, chicken, and pork) is available as a platter, or as filling for the Tex-Mex staples (Freakin' Fajitas, Taco, Tostadas, etc), or for 2 bucks as an add-on "to any salad or anything". Steak, chicken, fish, and veggies are also options for the Tex-Mex offerings and as add-ons. The brisket and pork were both great, though it is not clear if there is any real smoking going on. The pork had burnt edges while the brisket starts chewy and then quickly melts in your mouth. The turkey was less interesting, coated in a too sweet sauce. A steak tostada was amazing, with a generous helping of firm black beans covered with slices of crispy edged steak, a bit of cheese and some cabbage (a great deal for $2.25). By default the tacos are in crispy shells, but you can ask for soft. The fish taco was a bit of disappointment -- the subtly of the grilled fish was lost amid the chewy tortilla, cabbage, and cheese (oh Flacos Tacos, where art thou?).

El Scorcho Tostada

The main items, as good as they are, really are just an excuse to order the sides. Glorious sides. Maco & Cheeso (creamy with Pepper Jack cheese) may be the best mac & cheese you will ever eat. Viva La Frickles are dill pickle slices fried in corn meal, the acid of the pickle cutting through the crisp fried shell. The O Rings are thick sliced onions coated in Lone Star Beer batter and fried. The cornbread is a massive block of moist cakey goodness. Those are the 4 sides that I tried. There are another 12 to go. There are also starters (the Tortilla Soup was a thick puree tasting of lime, chicken, and corn studded with pozole and flecks of carrot and cilantro), 4 styles of chicken wings, burgers, sandwiches and one dog, plus assorted dips for the nachos. Whew.

Chicken Wings with El Scorcho's juicy sweet honey blend w/ garlic and chilies

The servers tend towards the dressed-in-black-faux-hawk set. They seem to be having far more fun then anyone should at work, while doing a kickass job. The music streams from an iPod and ranged from Johnny Cash, to the Stones, to 80's ballads while I was there (oddly no Weezers). In slow periods they do customer requests. El Scorcho opens its doors at 11:00 am 7 days a week. The kitchen stays open till 1:00 am and the bar till last call, Monday through Saturday. On Sundays they close up at midnight. The portions are generous, the prices reasonable, and the food is seriously good. Make no mistake, it is not Haute Cuisine (more like Haute Camp). But Johnson and Lucas have demonstrated time again they know how to grab a culinary vernacular (Tapas, Creole, Caribbean, Tex-Mex) and give it a couple of imaginative twists that can engage the locals without scaring anybody. At heart, this is a kickback neighborhood joint where you can stop in and have a beer and a tostada at the bar. We should all be so lucky to have an El Scorcho in our neighborhood.

(NB: This is not a review. This is only a test (well not really). If this had been an actual review I would have waited longer (they have only been open a couple of weeks) and I would have checked back a couple of more times. Also, I would probably have included their phone number (314.644.5566) and the fact that they do takeout and DELIVERY!!).