STL readers (all handful of you): Ever alert for publications of interest, you should see if you can find a “Sauce" magazine. Apparently it’s free so it’s probably in specialty stores and maybe those little pull open devices that have contents of various subjects, some seemly some not. Anyway, for anybody trying to stay current on the St. Louis dining scene it’s pretty handy. Lots of reviews, real reviews, not like we get in our newspaper. For instance in a review of Kevin Willmann’s Farmhaus (starts out with “is a very, very, very, fine hou….er… restaurant”), the reviewer (Michael Kenner) relates how his companion's dish arrived at the table and …”20 minutes passed before my dish arrived, prompting the sweet woman sitting next to me inquire in the interim, “are you not eating?”. Besides that incident he pretty much liked the place.
And in the same issue there’s an article about a place called The Scottish Arms, in the CWE. The gist of the article is that they try to use the whole animal, sort of a nose to tail concept: “The carcasses come in on Wednesday, and get broken down Thursday morning. After it’s broken down or during the process of breaking it down, we start brainstorming…”. I was pretty much with them until I read the final paragraph: “if you wanna come in and get jowl, you can come in and get jowl. If you want snoot you can come in and get snoot. If you want testicles, you can com in and get testicles. We’ve got this animal, and we’re here to prepare it for you – what part of it do you want?”. To prove the point there are photos of this last dish, that well, look pretty much like you would imagine. I’m fairly adventurous but golly, this brings a whole new meaning to “soup to nuts”.
Back to the Park…My little part time job requires me to be in Exploration Park (home of the Wyle buildings) during the day. Local residents will know that the exit onto Route 235 is governed by a stoplight whose timing mechanism appears to be a glacier. I’m sure the demons from Millstone have relatives there. Anyway there are two lanes out of the complex. There are arrow signs across the road that indicates that the left hand lane is left turn only, but the other lane is that split arrow thing allowing left or right turns. After the damn thing lets you go, I will say that it pretty much exhausts any lines. So, because I normally want to go north I meekly get in the left lane even if I’m the tenth car. Today, I was maybe leaving a little early as when I and the car ahead of me came to the intersection there was only one car in the left turn lane. The car ahead of me veered into the right lane so to be first instead of one car back (which fell to me). The next car to arrive was also in the right hand lane, but had its right turn blinker on. Right turn on red is allowed so if it wasn’t for the roadblock in front of him, he could have gone on his merry way. Nope! ME FIRST sat there the good 15 minutes (seemingly) until the light turned green, made a wide swinging left hand turn, blithely ignorant of the poor soul behind. Sometimes there’s civility and sometimes not. Be kind…..
I may be wavering in my time honored “dry Manhattan, on the rocks, with a twist”. Spurred by my pleasant experience in Easton I re-created it last night. Not too darn bad.
And, since I was in the digs, I didn’t have to
DFD
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