Sauce Magazine // June 2016

JUNE 2016 • VOLUME 16, ISSUE 6

What's your favorite thing about Saucy Soirée?

The gigantic

PUBLISHER

ART DIRECTOR

MANAGING EDITOR

MANAGING EDITOR, DIGITAL

ASSOCIATE EDITOR

EDIBLE WEEKEND EDITOR

STAFF WRITER

PROOFREADER

PRODUCTION DESIGNER

CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS

CONTRIBUTING ILLUSTRATOR

CONTRIBUTING WRITERS

Allyson Mace

Meera Nagarajan

Heather Hughes

Catherine Klene

Tiffany Leong

Catherine Klene

Kristin Schultz

Emily Lowery

Michelle Volansky

Last year, it was drinking cheap beer with the Farmhaus crew at the end of the night.

Jonathan Gayman, David Kovaluk, Greg Rannells, Carmen Troesser, Michelle Volansky

Vidhya Nagarajan

Glenn Bardgett, Andrew Barrett, Matt Berkley, Katie Herrera, Heather Hughes, Kellie Hynes, Jamie Kilgore, Ted Kilgore, Catherine Klene, Tiffany Leong, Meera Nagarajan, Michael Renner, Dee Ryan, Kristin Schultz

ADVERTISING SALES MANAGER

ACCOUNT EXECUTIVES

ADVERTISING ACCOUNTS COORDINATOR

EVENTS COORDINATOR

LISTINGS EDITOR INTERNS

Allyson Mace

Jill George, Angie Rosenberg

Jill George

Amy Hyde

Amy Hyde

To place advertisements in Sauce Magazine contact the advertising department at 314.772.8004 or sales@saucemagazine.com.

To carry Sauce Magazine at your store, restaurant, bar or place of business Contact Allyson Mace at 314.772.8004 or amace@saucemagazine.com.

All contents of Sauce Magazine are copyright ©2001-2016 by Bent Mind Creative Group, LLC. The Sauce name and logo are both registered to the publisher, Bent Mind Creative Group, LLC. Reproduction or other use, in

The people watching

Kathleen Adams, Christian Deverger

whole or in part, of the contents without permission of the publisher is strictly prohibited. While the information has been compiled carefully to ensure maximum accuracy at the time of publication, it is provided for general guidance only and is subject to change. The publisher cannot guarantee the accuracy of all information or be responsible for omissions or errors.

Additional copies may be obtained by providing a request at 314.772.8004 or via mail. Postage fee of $2.50 will apply.

Sauce Magazine is printed on recycled paper using soy inks.

EDITORIAL POLICIES The Sauce Magazine mission is to provide St. Louis-area residents and visitors with unbiased, complete information on the area’s restaurant, bar and entertainment industry. Our editorial content is not in fl uenced by who advertises with Sauce Magazine or saucemagazine.com.

Our reviewers are never provided with complimentary food or drinks from the restaurants in exchange for favorable reviews, nor are their identities as reviewers made known during their visits.

A $30 CHECK TO: SAUCE MAGAZINE – SUBSCRIPTIONS for a

cheese board from Annie Gunn's

PHOTO BY GREG RANNELLS

publisher’s perspective

Niche's The Egg, with custard, roasted shiitake mushrooms and "caviar"

The 2015 Saucy Soirée in Union Station

SUMMER IN ST. LOUIS IS SUFFICIENT GROUNDS FOR CELEBRATION.

Fortified by vitamin D, groups of friends eagerly reunite in backyards and city parks. Our tradition-rich city comes together for favorite rituals of the season, with good friends, food, drink and conversation.

When the spring thunderstorms reach their peak, my mind (and calendar) shift into summer mode, daydreaming about Airstream adventures, sunset rides on my Triumph and fireside cookouts. But

the undeniable signal of the new season is the familiar anticipation of getting my favorite people into one room at the Saucy Soirée.

Now in its 10th year, that’s what the Soirée is all about – celebrating long-standing and emerging relationships with our readers and restaurateurs. It’s our chance to highlight and honor the innovative culinary culture that has evolved in St. Louis and express gratitude for our loyal readership.

The first Soirée was a potluck-style tasting with a dozen restaurateurs at Vin de Set and Moulin. We underestimated how hungry our readers were to share a meal with their favorite chefs – quite literally. I recall the sinking feeling in my chest when Sweetie Pie’s mac-and-cheese vanished from the chafing dish less than 20 minutes into the event. We’ve all learned a lot since then.

The crowds continued to grow, as did the quality and quantity of

dishes and our collective ability to accommodate demand. The third year saw the emergence of my favorite Soirée delicacy: The Egg, created by Niche Restaurant Group’s Gerard Craft. Silky lemon-maple custard supported roasted shiitake mushrooms and bonito "caviar" all nestled in a delicate eggshell. With each passing year, chefs continue to showcase novel, innovative dishes with the thoughtful and generous spirit of our culinary community.

Whether you are a first timer, or the Saucy Soirée is a part of your summer ritual, I invite you to meet and mingle with our fearless, talented tastemakers and Readers’ Choice award recipients. Join us June 26 at the historic St. Louis Union Station. Get your ticket at saucysoiree.com.

Cheers, Allyson Mace

Founder and publisher

EGG

PHOTO BY GREG RANNELLS; EVENT PHOTO BY MICHELLE VOLANSKY

editors' picks

EAT THIS

The key to a great sandwich is a great sauce, and the CHICKEN TORTA at LA VALLESANA has two. A smoky-sweet, chipotle-based salsa and a fier y avocado and chile salsa accompany the grilled chicken, cheese, lettuce, pico de gallo, mayo, cilantro and onion that are pressed inside a telera (Mexican sandwich bun) for a toasty crunch. The salsas bring the heat and round out the flavors of this stellar sandwich.

LA VALLESANA, 2801 CHEROKEE ST., ST. LOUIS, 314.776.4223, FACEBOOK: LA VALLESANA

hit l ist

FIVE ACES BAR-B-QUE

The Mama Josephine’s sign may still hang out front, but there’s no denying the Shaw institution serves up more than comfort food these days. Five Aces Bar-B-Que has been serving up hickory- and oak-smoked fare in the space since late April. Both the pulled pork and pulled chicken special use a secret seasoning blend that complements rather than overpowers the meat. The chicken is juicy, tender and melts in your mouth faster than the peanut butter cup you left in your car. Five Aces still serves up Mama Josephine’s classics like the chicken and dumplings. Fluffy dumplings and chunks of chicken swim in the creamy, peppery broth. Sides like sweet, moist cornbread, pillowy biscuits and crispy onion rings complete the soul-satisfying meal.

4000 Shaw Blvd., St. Louis, 314.489.3481, fiveacesbbq.com

STUBBORN GERMAN BREWING CO.

Chris and Tammy Rahn pay homage to their hometown’s

German heritage with Stubborn German Brewing Co., the first brewery to open in Waterloo, Illinois since Prohibition. Despite the lederhosen-clad curmudgeon on the tap handles, the brewery/tasting room welcomes with the warm glow of string lights, exposed brick and multi-toned wood paneling. Grab a seat at the bar and sample a flight of six 4-ounce pours. Don’t miss the Fountain Creek Kölsch made with a touch of local honey, the balanced Bean Tree coffee stout and the hilariously named Munich dunkel, Schitzengiggles.

119 S. Main St., Waterloo, Illinois, 618.504.2444, Facebook: Stubborn German Brewing Co.

a flight at stubborn german brewing desserts from big baby q and smokehouse the big baby sandwich from big baby q and

BIG BABY Q AND SMOKEHOUSE

Follow the smell of wood smoke in Maryland Heights to Big Baby Q and Smokehouse, co-owned by Ben and Bennie Welch. This fatherson duo knows its way around a bird. As a thousand Thanksgivings can testify, turkey breast is notoriously dry. However, at Big Baby Q slices of white meat remain moist and tender without requiring a sauce. Likewise, the smoked chicken manages both crisp, flavored skin and meat pink from smoke. Billed as an appetizer but perfect as a meal, the loaded smokehouse potato piles a fluffy baked russet potato with butter, baked beans, chipotle sour cream, cheddar cheese, your choice of meat and house barbecue sauce. If red meat is more your game, order a pastrami sandwich with Carolina Gold mustard barbecue sauce. The brisket is dry rubbed and smoked and the tangy sauce makes for an ideal sour bite cut with unctuous fat. Round out your meal with a mini pecan pie, which combines crunchy nuts with sugary filling in a crisp buttery crust. You could share, but you won’t.

11658 Dorsett Road, Maryland Heights, 314.801.8888, bigbabyq.com

, 3133 Watson Road, St. Louis, 314.645.7142, pintsizebakery.com

MEALS THAT CHANGED MY LIFE

CHRISTY AUGUSTIN

Like a free dessert on your birthday, meals sometimes come with an unexpected extra. Pint Size Bakery coowner Christy Augustin’s most memorable dining experiences came with a complimentary side of “Aha!” From staring down sprinkle cookies in Wood River to wiggling her toes in the warm Key West sand, here are the meals that changed her life.

– Kristin Schultz

Mrs.

Siebold’s Bakery, Wood

River, childhood

“The sprinkle cookies were (what) I had to have, always. Every time we’d go in, I’d stare at the case, eye-level with the cookies, and I had to have one. They were the one thing I knew we had to have at Pint Size. That memory of the smell of the bakery and the enjoyment and excitement – I love that. Mrs. Siebold’s is gone now, but I see it as part of Pint Size’s mission to carry on the old-fashioned bakery that welcomes children and makes things for kids or the kid in you.”

Chez Panisse Café, Berkeley, California, 1999

“It is the first time I remember being awakened by flavor. At that time, California cuisine was still getting out

there in the world. (My husband Matt and I) had a lasagna that was just sliced tomatoes, pesto and cheese with fresh pasta, and the dessert was an apple or pear lightly cooked with a light syrup. Before I just ate to feed myself, not really for the enjoyment. And I had never thought much about where my food comes from, but here it was part of the conversation, and was even printed on the menus. It completely changed my perspective.”

Blue Heaven, Key West, Florida, 2002

“My husband and I eloped on a sailboat in Key West, and we went that night to a restaurant called Blue Heaven. It wasn’t anything fancy, but there was a swing in a tree and my feet were in the sand and we ate shrimp and crab and

Key lime pie. That meal was the start of my life moving forward instead of being a kid and just doing whatever pleased me. I don’t remember much about the food, but it was making a conscious decision that my life was going to mean something.”

Home, New Orleans, Louisiana, 2004

“When Julia Child died, (my friends and I) were trying to cook this elaborate meal in her honor using what was seasonal. We made this torte with layers of ham and cheese and peppers and spinach wrapped in puff pastry. We made coq au vin and green beans amandine. Somebody brought profiteroles and we had chocolate mousse and a savory crab soufflé. We thought we were all so fancy. It was the pinnacle of our friendship.”

Pint Size Bakery

rev iews

new and notable

The Muddled Pig Gastropub

BY MICHAEL RENNER | PHOTOS BY JONATHAN GAYMAN

Finding the right gastropub equation can be challenging. Is it a bar with good food or a fun restaurant with good drinks? Finding the key variable that keeps diners coming back isn’t always easy. The Muddled Pig in Maplewood is one of many causal St. Louis eateries working out that equation.

banh mi at the muddled pig gastropub

The Muddled Pig opened in February, just eight days after the previous tenant, The Wood, closed. Like The Wood, it’s casual. Unlike The Wood, the food is focused.

Co-chefs and co-owners Michelle Allender and Austin Hamblin (former executive chefs at Bella Vino Wine Bar & Tapas in St. Charles) have created a menu closely following the gastropub equation: houseground burgers, banh mi, poutine, local beers and, as the name more than implies, cocktails and pork. Half of the 20 menu items include pork in some form if you count the bacon fat-fried cornbread and the pork rind-topped wedge salad. There’s so much pork that I was nervous: How many ways are there to describe one meat?

Turns out this isn’t a problem when Missouri-raised Berkshire pork (a heritage breed known for its rich flavor and marbling) is served. Braising the meat in coffee, as with Muddled Pig’s pork shank, brings out the meat’s true flavor by breaking down its amino acids. Done properly, as it was here, it doesn’t impart any coffee flavor.

The 8-ounce pork steak, first grilled then braised in beer and barbecue sauce, could have easily come off your backyard Weber. However, yours wouldn’t have been served on a bed of mashed potatoes and topped with an apple-blue cheese-currant slaw for a bit of funk and crunch.

Those tired of the small-plates regimen will appreciate the restaurant’s hefty fare. Poutine is practically de rigueur these days, and The Muddled Pig’s version didn’t disappoint, inspiring gluttony with house-cut fries, stout-braised pork, hunks of fried cheese curds along with jalapeno and pickled red onion to cut the richness. The poached egg on top seemed like a dare – poutine extreme – until I noticed the Foie ’n’ Waffles: a rosemar y-flecked waffle topped with seared foie gras, a fried quail egg, arugula and a drizzle of port wine-red currant syrup. Over the top, yes. Worth the adventure? Definitely.

Two other standouts include a 6-ounce burger and a salad of Missouri mushrooms and farro. Houseground chuck, brisket and short rib made up the flavorful patty of the Muddled Burger, adorned with foie gras, rosemary demi glace house ketchup and watercress. But the simplicity of the house burger did just fine with the same patty topped with a hearty slice of cheddar and two slices of thick-cut bacon on a soft Companion bun. Like nearly everything else, the pickles are made inhouse, as are all condiments, including mayonnaise. The salad wasn’t cheap ($9 for a baseball-sized serving) but meaty roasted mushrooms from St. Louis’ Mushrooms Naturally blended beautifully with popped farro, pickled red onion and dollops of creme fraiche. It was also the lightest dish on the menu.

Not everything works as well on the plate as it does in print. The apple-onion soup sounded like an interesting, bare bones take on French onion soup, but it suffered from over salting and soggy fruit. Other dishes try too hard. Bone marrow-crusted strip steak served with truffle chips, Muddled Pig’s version of steak frites, started with an excellent cut

of dry-aged beef. The marrow-salt coating was more a salty slush overpowering the meat’s natural flavor than a crunchy crust. A skillet-fried chicken breast was meaty enough, but arrived lukewarm on my visit. Real pan-fried chicken is hard to find, so the sweet and spicy glaze that softened the chicken’s fried crunch (and didn’t do much else for the dish) was a letdown. Also disappointing: The accompanying cornbread biscuit, which was doughy in the middle.

Like any gastropub worth its weight in suds, the beer list was long, craftcentric and regionally focused, with 16 beers on draft and 40 bottled. The wine list’s narrow bandwidth shouldn’t deter wine drinkers; 14 selections were varied across most varietals, with not one found on a grocery store shelf. Of the two specialty cocktails I tried, one underwhelmed, the other overwhelmed. The Cherry-Rye-It (rye, sweet vermouth, maraschino liqueur, Fernet) tasted unbalanced, especially between the rye and Fernet. The namesake cocktail, The Muddled Pig, (bacon-washed bourbon, dry vermouth, absinthe, grapefruit shrub, maple, rosemary) sounded better than it drank, mostly due to the overly oily mouth feel.

Despite the quick turnover in operations, signs of a reboot were evident: a communal farm table with candles, a line of wooden banquettes replacing The Wood’s retro diner vinyl ones, new paint, dangling Edison lights. But the place felt unfinished, mostly because there was so much space to fill. The concrete floor didn’t help warm things up and a few wooden pallets and small, old-timey farm signs didn’t add enough of the homey, nookish character they were going for. I couldn’t help but think the concept felt forced.

Thankfully, the Muddled Pig’s menu is broad enough to make up for a couple of disappointing dishes. Allender and Hamblin’s scratch kitchen is the elusive key variable that makes The Muddled Pig a gastropub worth exploring.

THE MUDDLED PIG's community table and Edison bulbs aim for a gastropub vibe.

Lunch

Rush

BYRD & BARREL

BY ANDREW BARRETT | PHOTOS BY JONATHAN GAYMAN

Byrd & Barrel swooped onto the scene in September

2015 and has been laying fresh fried chicken on South Jefferson ever since. Proud of its neighborhood and local sourcing, the restaurant offers carryout as well as indoor and patio seating with consistently excellent service. If you’ve been scratching around for something different, Byrd & Barrel has your lunch hour covered.

BANH MI

The banh mi was the best thing I had. Crisp pickled carrots and cucumber complemented soft chicken liver while jalapeno slices cut through for a bright umami bite. Contained in a baguette, it was exactly the right size for lunch. Don’t let fried liver scare you off; the complete package is more than the sum of its parts.

MOTHER CLUCKER

The Mother Clucker combined local high- and low-brow flavors for a funky take on a traditional spicy chicken sandwich. Fried chicken sandwiches can be texturally one-note, but here Red Hot Riplets broke up the monotony and kept

things crunchy, while Provel cheese sauce glued the whole stack together.

PICKLE PLATE

Byrd & Barrel deserves as much respect for its pickle game as its chicken. The pickle plate starter is a selection of its finest. On my visit, it included classic bread-and-butter, Kool-Aid dill pickles, and kimchi, each completely distinct. The kimchi, made with cauliflower stems, deserves special attention; it could have been a snack all on its own. Try these for a break from all the fried food.

MOTHER CLUCKER

NUGZ

This lunchtime classic won’t disappoint. White or dark meat nuggets are soaked in buttermilk, then floured and fried. Nugz can be ordered in five, 10 or 20 pieces – five were a healthy portion, so don’t go overboard. And don’t ignore the sauces, even though you have to pay for them; all are house-made and come in generous portions (Two were more than enough for a fivepiece order.). The ranch was a step up from the average, and the peppadew aioli is a musttry. Nugz are what’s up.

STARTER ROUNDUP

Besides the pickle plate, three starters deserve your

attention: chicken skins (because greasy is good and General Tso sauce is, too), the roasted cauliflower (as a delivery method for the accompanying salsa verde and peppadew aioli, which were good enough to eat alone) and the South Side poutine with the mushroom gravy (a pile of everything you want).

GOOD SIPS

If you’re down for a lunch beer, B&B has you covered with around 50 cans and one local tap. It’s one of the only places in St. Louis to find Hamm’s besides Quik-Trip. If you must stay sober, take your pick of Vess cans (but go for the black cherry).

THE DOWNSIDE

Seating is a real issue. If it gets busy, you’ll get to know your neighbors a little too well. The tables are beautiful pieces by local woodworker Mwanzi, but they’re awkwardly wide and constantly sticky. The rest of the seating is on stools at narrow bars. I really wanted to try the MO Roots salad and Tickled Pickle (a hot dog-stuffed pickle fried like a corndog), but they were perpetually out of both. I can sympathize with seasonal ingredients, but a pickle?

Byrd & Barrel

3422 S. Jefferson Ave., St. Louis, 314.875.9998, byrdandbarrel.com

nightlife Henry's

BY MATT BERKLEY | PHOTOS BY JONATHAN GAYMAN

825 Allen Ave., St. Louis, 314.240.5868, henryssoulard.com

This is a shots and beers place. It didn’t even stock a simple bottle of bitters on my visit, but if you’re set on cocktails, a handful were featured on a chalkboard next to the main bar: standards like the Moscow Mule or the Squirter, a house margarita doused with Squirt soda. What these lacked in imagination, they made up for in frat house-level potency. Amiable bartenders were happy to MacGyver a more than decent martini and other classic cocktails with limited supplies, but the simple, sweet warmweather house cocktails were a great fit for the patio.

Henry’s is best suited for a frosty beer on a hot day. Around a half dozen taps poured out $5 standards like Blue Moon, Guinness and Coors, along with a few highly drinkable local brews such as Urban Chestnut’s Zwickel and Schnickelfritz. Like wise, both the indoor and outdoor bars had coolers well stocked with bottles of Schlafly, Boulevard and New Belgium beers alongside Heineken, Dos Equis, Stella Artois and Red Stripe – plus cans of Stag thrown in for good measure. Standard domestic bottles, or “good ol’ macro beer” as they call them, are cracked open for $1 a pop on Mondays.

Stepping onto the well-trodden brick of the Henry’s back patio has the strange but comfortable feeling of wandering into a house party – with better booze. If you’ve spent any time carousing around the island that is Soulard, you’ll remember this space as the former The Shanti reborn.

The most impressive transformation is the indoor space, which was thoroughly scrubbed of the stale smoke, spilled beer and biker bar funk that festered a few too many years in Shanti. The grand old wood bar remains, but the rock ’n’ roll memorabilia and bumper stickers that once covered the walls so thickly they seemed load-bearing are gone. A tastefully muted coat of copper-colored paint adds

freshness to the space, while vintage blackand-white snapshots offer a little historical charm (albeit a tawdry charm, since the snapshots are primarily artsy parlor house nudes). Combine those with the garish, grand light fixtures, and Henry’s feels like a sexy European-style boudoir.

The soul of this joint is the patio with all its open-air, red brick, back-alley allure. The happy-go-lucky, French Quarter-esque space sports its own sizeable outdoor bar flanked by a few flat-screen TVs invariably tuned to a sporting event. Aside from the addition of a seating area in the form of a green truck bed fitted with bench seats, the outdoor space is practically unchanged from its Shanti days. Presumably, Henry’s figured that part wasn’t broke.

There’s no kitchen to speak of (This is a drinker’s bar, after all.), but management seems to have an arrangement with the nearby Ninth Street Deli, which is happy to deliver.

T-shir ts, flip-flops and ball caps are the standard dress code at this patio party bar. Like the rest of Soulard, Henry’s draws in a super casual, eclectic crowd of young professionals plus plenty of middle-aged patrons and even retirees and old rummies looking to sip away an afternoon. When the sun goes down, so does the age range on the patio as boisterous young drinkers crowd one of the best outdoor drinking holes St. Louis has to offer

Henry’s house margarita, The Squirter, is topped with Squirt soda.

Order a grapefruit Stiegl Radler to beat the heat on Henry’s patio.

Henry’s

dine & drink

dry rieslings are perfect for summer.

A SEAT AT THE BAR /

Four experts tell us what to sip, stir and shake

GLENN BARDGETT

Member of the Missouri Wine and Grape Board and wine director at Annie Gunn’s

Wine geeks love rieslings from the Finger Lakes in upstate New York, the ideal climate for this German grape. The 2013 Dr. Konstantin Frank Dry Riesling captures the essence of a riesling from France’s Alsace region. It’s dry, mineral driven and medium bodied with citrus notes and a finish that lasts until your next bite of trout. $14. Lukas Wine and Spirits, lukasliquorstl.com

TED AND JAMIE KILGORE

USBG, B.A.R. Ready, BarSmart and co-owners/bartenders at Planter’s House

Back in 2005, we scored a copy of the 1947 Trader Vic’s Bartender’s Guide. We immediately loved the classic El Diablo, great for the devilish summer months. Combine 2 ounces blanco tequila, ½ ounce crème de cassis and ¾ ounce lime juice. Shake with ice, then strain into a Collins glass filled with fresh ice. Top with ginger beer, garnish with a lime wheel and enjoy the blend of earthy, salty, sweet and spicy flavors.

KATIE HERRERA

Co-founder of Femme Ferment and manager at The Side Project Cellar

Kick off grilling season with smoked beers.

Start with a classic German rauchbier like Helles Schlenkerla Lagerbier that’s mellow on the smoke and crisp on the palate. For a more intense sip, try Haandbryggeriet Norwegian Wood, a farmhouse ale brewed with smoked malts and juniper. Or go all in with Schlenkerla Märzen, a robust beechwood-smoked malt with a hint of bacon. Craft Beer Cellar, craftbeercellar.com

salted chile lassi from haveli indian restaurant

Keep your cool

BY KRISTIN SCHULTZ

Long before Americans started loading blenders with low-fat yogurt and the superfood of the moment, drinkable yogurt had been a mainstay in many cultures for centuries. Thanks to the diversity of cuisine in St. Louis, you don’t need to hop a plane to India or Istanbul (not Constantinople) to get a cool oldschool sip for a humid summer day.

The lassi is a yogurt drink that hails from India and is a perfect chaser for fiery curries. “It calms the spice in the stomach because it’s a milk product,” said Hema Patel, owner of Haveli Indian Restaurant. “It fits with the design of the meal because it cools and fights the heat of some Indian food.”

Although traditionally flavored with rose water, Haveli’s lassis don’t include it. To soothe your lamb vindaloo burn at Haveli, choose from one of four flavors: mango (its most popular), sweet, salted and salted chile. Almost as thick as a milkshake, most of the restaurant’s lassis put out the fire, but one brings the heat.

The sweet lassi allows the tartness of the yogurt to shine with a touch of added sugar to finish. If you prefer heat to sweet, order Haveli’s salted chile lassi. Fresh cilantro, green chiles, roasted cumin seeds and salt blend up into a spicy, creamy sip with a punch of heat on the middle of your palate.

For the mango lassi, Patel blends tangy, house-made yogurt with mango pulp and sugar for a summery orange-colored drink loaded with tropical flavor. Lassis are available at many other local Indian restaurants, or pick up a mango one at Bombay Food Junkies’ food truck.

At Aya Sofia in Lindenwood Park, chefowner Mehmet Yildiz serves up ayran, a staple in his native Turkey. The mixture of house-made yogurt, water and salt has the consistency of buttermilk. Each sip has a refreshing zing with a light salinity to finish. “Everyone makes it in Turkey,” Yildiz said. “People give it to kids before they go to bed because it helps them sleep.” Order a house-made ayran at Aya Sofia or grab a bottle at Sheesh Restaurant on South Grand.

Similar to the Turkish ayran, the Afghan dough (or doogh in Persia) is a mixture of yogurt and water with the addition of mint and sometimes cucumber. At Sameem Afghan Restaurant, the mix is spiked with dried mint and served over ice. The flavor is similar to ayran but with a milder tang and a light, minty finish. Add diced cucumber for an extra cooling flavor note.

Sameem owner Fahime Mohammad emphasized the balance that dough brings to a spicy meal. He suggested taking a drink after each bite to complement and cool the burn and to take a larger gulp

rather than sipping to taste the full flavor and complexity of the dough.

“When you sip, you taste with the tip of your tongue, and it can taste too sour,” Mohammad said. “If you take a bigger gulp, you taste the whole drink with the middle to back of your tongue.”

Whip up your own yogurt-based drinks at home. To make a mango lassi, Patel suggested using a blender to combine two parts yogurt, one part mango pulp or puree and sugar to taste.

Haveli Indian Restaurant, 9720 Page Ave., Olivette, 314.423.7300, havelistl.com

Bombay Food Junkies, 3580 Adie Road, St. Ann, 573.578.6583, bombayfoodjunkies.com

Aya Sofia, 6671 Chippewa St., St. Louis, 314.645.9919, ayasofiacuisine.com

Sheesh Restaurant, 3226 S. Grand Blvd., St. Louis, 314.833.4321, sheeshrestaurant.com

Sameem Afghan Restaurant, 4341 Manchester Ave., St. Louis, 314.534.9500, sameems.com

mango lassi from haveli indian restaurant

Vegetarian Philly Cheesesteaks

BY KELLIE HYNES | PHOTOS BY CARMEN TROESSER

Last month, I bought a cart full of fresh veggies in the hope a stockpile of healthy alternatives would keep me from stuffing my gob with Mint Milanos. Instead, I later felt annoyed because I had to make something out of all the produce before it wilted, and I felt sad because I had no cookies.

Given my carb craving and new surplus of mushrooms, a Philly cheesesteak-inspired sandwich seemed promising. The traditional version is a hearty torpedo of white bread piled with thinly sliced beef, melted cheese and, if you’re feeling extra fancy, a mound of caramelized onions. Research recipes explained how to make “mushroom meat” out of minced and sauteed cremini mushrooms, walnuts and herbs. The result was a surprisingly beefy mixture unfortunately too crumbly to pass for steak (but I wholeheartedly suggest you try it in a meatless meatball sub).

Grilled portobello caps seasoned with oregano and paprika were more steaklike, but I couldn’t re-create the ribeye’s crispy edges, since the portobellos became spongy when grilled too long. My sandwich’s crunch had to come from another vegetable.

In its natural state, lettuce is the watery roadblock between me and the cheese bits in my salad. But grilling lettuce elevates it from filler to fabulous. I lightly brushed both endive and romaine with olive oil and fresh lemon juice, then grilled them for a fe w minutes on each side. The heat coaxed a smoky sweetness from the romaine, but also made it limp. Bittersweet endive retained its sturdy shape and won a starring roll on my sandwich. A few caramelized onions were all I needed to balance the endive’s sharp taste.

Cheez Whiz is widely known as the cheese of choice for Philly cheesesteaks. Since I forswore vowelchallenged processed foods when I gave up dorm room pig-out sessions and drummer boyfriends, I draped my veggies with thickly sliced provolone. If you prefer spreadable

cheddar, I found Trader Joe’s Pub Cheese to be a lovely, age-appropriate partner to the sauteed onions.

Fans of crunchy crusts need look no further than Companion’s baguettes for sandwich bread. But if you’re hoping for an authentic, tender hoagie roll, visit Vitale’s Bakery on The Hill. Co-owner Grace Vitale (née Bommarito) makes soft rolls using her family’s 50-year-old recipe. Her bread is golden on the outside, yeasty and chewy on the inside. She doesn’t use preservatives, so your rolls will be fresh and delicious – just like the buttery Italian cookies serendipitously waiting next to them.

CHEESE NOT-STEAK SANDWICHES

4 SERVINGS

1 Tbsp. unsalted butter

4½ Tbsp. olive oil, divided

2 medium yellow onions, thinly sliced

¾ tsp. kosher salt, divided

3 large portobello mushroom caps

2 heads endive

1 tsp. minced garlic

1 Tbsp. lemon juice

¼ tsp. freshly ground black pepper

1 red bell pepper, stemmed, seeded and quartered

1 tsp. dried oregano

1 tsp. paprika

4 hoagie rolls, sliced lengthwise

8 slices provolone cheese

• In a heavy skillet over medium heat, melt the butter with 1½ tablespoons olive oil. Saute the onions, stirring

often, until browned, about 20 minutes. Stir in ¼ teaspoon salt. Set aside and keep warm.

• Preheat a gas grill or prepare a charcoal grill for medium-high heat.

• Use the edge of a small spoon to scrape away the black gills of the mushroom caps. Discard the gills.

• Trim the ends of the endive without removing the stem holding the leaves together. Slice each head in half lengthwise.

• Combine the garlic, lemon juice, remaining 3 tablespoons olive oil, remaining ½ teaspoon salt and black pepper in a small bowl. Lightly brush both sides of the peppers, endive and mushroom caps with the mixture. Sprinkle the mushroom caps with the oregano and paprika.

• Add the peppers, mushroom caps and endive to the grill. Cook, uncovered, until the vegetables are charred and begin to brown on both sides, about 3 minutes per side for the endive, 4 minutes per side for the mushrooms and 5 minutes per side for the peppers.

• Slice the peppers and mushrooms into ½-inch strips and separate the leaves of the endive.

• Divide the endive, pepper and mushroom strips among the rolls. Top each with 2 slices provolone and evenly divide the sauteed onions among the sandwiches. Serve hot.

7-inch hoagie roll: 45 cents. Vitale’s Bakery, 2130 Marconi Ave., St. Louis, 314.664.6665, vitalesbakerystl.com

MAKE THIS

STRAWBERRY-CUCUMBER SALAD

ACTIVE TIME: 10 MINUTES

Perfect for a summer brunch or as a steak dinner side, this salad’s sweet-tart dressing complements the berries and cucumber like a string of pearls with a seersucker sundress. In a medium bowl, combine 1 pint thinly sliced strawberries, 1 peeled and thinly sliced English cucumber and ½ cup chiffonaded basil. In a small bowl, stir together ½ cup creme fraiche, 1 teaspoon lemon juice, ½ teaspoon honey and ½ teaspoon lemon zest. Drizzle the dressing over each salad and top with ¼ cup chopped toasted hazelnuts, evenly divided among the salads. – Dee Ryan

To make your own creme fraiche, combine 1 cup cream and 1 tablespoon buttermilk in a glass jar. Cover and store in a warm spot 8 to 24 hours, or until thickened. Refrigerate and use within 12 days.

Down the RABBIT HOLE

An animal lover comes to terms with eating bunnies

BY HEATHER HUGHES PHOTOS BY CARMEN TROESSER

ordered the pappardelle with rabbit. I don’t know what made me do it. This was a couple years ago at the charming Luce in Portland, Oregon. I was visiting friends, enjoying quiet conversation as the sun went down and the bright little windowed restaurant dimmed seductively. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe I wanted a thrill. Either way, the tender braised meat melted into the ribbons of paper-thin fresh pasta and dissolved on my tongue with savory transcendence. I didn’t know what I would tell my friends. Closing my eyes to taste better, I didn’t care.

I’m not a vegetarian and typically don’t feel a need to explain such dinner choices. But at the time I was doubly blessed with an adorable pet rabbit and a friend who regularly threatened to eat her after a couple glasses of wine. On more than one occasion I had explicitly stated, in public at high volume, that rabbits were not food. And here I was, eating her cousin.

Food choices can be intensely personal; they encompass health concerns, religious commitments, social and environmental activism and matters of taste. People have all sorts of reasons for what they will or won’t eat, but sometimes reason has nothing to do with it. We don’t always want to know where our food comes from or how it makes its way to our plates. “Meat comes from the grocery store,” as my friend likes to say – where it’s bloodless, boneless and costs money rather than lives. I enjoy ignoring inconvenient truths as much as any American, but there’s something weird about our abstraction from the things we consume. Now that I think about food choices for a living, I’ve been wondering if the only difference between rabbit and beef is that I’ve never gotten to know a cow.

Like any thoroughly suburban girl born in the 1980s, I was raised on anthropomorphizing children’s literature and hypocrisy – demanding Oscar Mayer salami sandwiches while passionately reading Charlotte’s Web. I cried when Bambi’s mom died; I loved cheeseburgers. The Velveteen Rabbit was my favorite children’s book: a story about how love makes us real –not real enough to eat.

This was perfectly normal for my milieu, as I found out when I was 8 and my family visited the Baby Chick Hatchery in Chicago’s Museum of Science and Industry. My sister and I queued up behind younger kids pressing their faces to the warm, fingerprinted glass of an incubator housing twitching chicken eggs. The ubiquitous whining of tired or bored children heard throughout the rest of the museum didn’t enter this room. We stood rapt, watching the miraculous strength of tiny beaks and claws splitting the shells that contained them.

After a moment my uncle called us over to where slightly older birds with fluffy

Ben Geisert cradles a rabbit at Moonshine Valley Farms.

Colony-raised rabbits in the Grand Army Farms barn

yellow down feathers hopped and chirped with the exuberance of extreme youth. “Hey girls, look!” he said, grinning. “That’s where chicken nuggets come from.” He did not speak quietly. The awe and delight of the children around us instantly bottomed out into horror, while my sister and I (monsters) laughed uncontrollably. If the endless family retellings of this story are to be believed, half the kids in the room started crying and turned to their mothers with some hard questions while the poor women attempted to murder my uncle with their eyes. We got out of there as quickly as we could.

Yes, my uncle was out of line, but he wasn’t exactly lying. Like a lot of comedians, he enjoyed exposing the hypocrisies around him. There is something darkly funny about the most basic facts of an omnivorous diet bringing meat-eating children to tears. I laughed, but I don’t think I had ever consciously associated the hygienic, plastic-wrapped meat my mother bought with animals who jumped and played and looked cute. That is partly why the memory is so vivid: I was forced to consider the reality of my food choices.

Eventually I got used to the idea of eating the barnyard classics, but long after I came to terms with chewing Wilbur with my teeth, rabbit was still a taboo meat. The idea of eating rabbit was akin to eating cat – worse, actually. We weren’t a cat family, but I grew up with a pet rabbit named Floppy. Since rabbits aren’t a big part of the American diet, I was unaware people ate them at all until I read The Lord of the Rings and Samwise Gamgee cooked up a coney stew – something that didn’t seem cool, even for a hobbit.

Despite Floppy’s sour personality and aggressive habits of chasing the dog and trying to bite me (I’m still convinced my dad captured him in the wild.), the real reason I couldn’t eat rabbit was because they’re the cutest. Chicks are sweet, but chickens are basically feathered dinosaurs with beady, soulless eyes. Cows outside a fence are terrifying; they’re enormous and they know somehow you want to eat them. Ducks are severely cute, but groups of rabbits are called fluffles. When pet rabbits feel particularly enthused, they sprint in little zigzagging

circles, jump into the air and twist their bodies in a fit of pure joy called a binky. Seriously, the term for happy bunny jumping is binkying. (Now take a moment to Google bunny binky videos before continuing.)

Floppy would never have done such a thing. I know about all this because of my later pet rabbit, Lyonet Bunny. I did not ask for a rabbit in my mid-20s, but when my boyfriend surprised me with her I squealed like a cartoon damsel. She was a white Holland Lop with brown spots and a clown frowny-face marking over her nose. I let her run around my room, where she was free to chew on stray books and binky with the best of them. Bunny went by her last name, as anyone named by an insufferable graduate student would, but Lyonet was particularly appropriate. She was the only woman in Sir Thomas Malory’s Le Morte D’Arthur (a book of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table stories) who went on a quest. She adventured to save her sister and made life very difficult for some knights with a signature mix of steadfastness and impudence.

Lyonet Bunny earned her spirited name. Anyone who sat on the ground risked her jumping in their laps for a head scratch or jumping up their backs onto a shoulder for unknown reasons (and a risk of panicked claw scratches). She loved being petted and nudged my hand with her head like a dog. She ground her teeth contentedly and gave lots of compulsive licking kisses when she was happy. She also pulled carrots out of timid treat-givers’ hands and kicked her litter around when she was in a foul mood. A rabbit of fine taste, her favorite food was Italian parsley. Her only Floppy-ish trait was scaring my roommate’s dog, stomping her foot violently when he came sniffing around.

It’s a little ridiculous for a grown woman to have a pet bunny, and my friends loved pointing this out. My house is festooned with so many bunny gifts it looks like a design theme – a fact that made it especially awkward to start eating rabbit. I have a triptych of Lyonet Bunny watercolor portraits, a thrift-store painting, a photography print, an entire family of bunny figurines and even a mounted geometric paper rabbit head. I am

what you could call a Rabbit Lady – now, a Rabbit Lady who eats rabbit.

Coming to terms with this clash of identities, I kept thinking about that day at the museum. Children who grew up on a farm would not have had the same reaction as the city kids crowding the hatchery. That kind of cognitive dissonance is only possible for people who whole-heartedly accept contradicting narratives. In this case: Chickens are adorable barnyard animals that cluck-cluck here and cluck-cluck there, and chicken is a totally unrelated food that comes with french fries at all the best restaurants.

I wasn’t going to become a vegan, but I felt the need to resolve this double vision in a way that wasn’t the classic “don’t think about it” option. I wanted to talk with people whose ideas weren’t so abstract, whose relationships with rabbits were professional rather than personal or theoretical. So I sought out local farmers.

Rabbits aren’t big-money livestock in Missouri; people who raise them are primarily hobbyists. Working with such low-demand, low-cost and low-impact animals, rabbit farmers tend to do a lot of other things as well, which explains why I followed Ben Geisert’s enormous tractor to my first rabbit farm in April. He was coming back to Moonshine Valley Farms from an odd job plowing somebody’s land when I got to Washington. This was my first lesson on farming rabbits: the need to diversify.

I was surprised to find Geisert a lanky 20-year-old with wire-rimmed glasses and a baseball hat. He is a full-time student, works at his father’s Todd Geisert Farms, helps out around the family’s new Farm to You Market and is currently renovating the old barn and farmhouse on the land he’s renting for Moonshine Valley. (Indeed, nothing will make you feel lazier than talking to a farmer.)

Geisert has raised rabbits and ducks under the name Moonshine Valley for less than a year. “I wanted to do something on my own,” he said. “I didn’t know anything about rabbits before I started doing this – just

jumped in.” Working for yourself when you don’t know what you’re doing may sound terrifying, but Geisert shrugged it off. “ We’re farmers,” he said. “We dabble in everything.”

He’s worked with a lot of animals, but rabbits are small, cheap, don’t require extensive fencing or space, and can actually improve the land they’re raised on. “Rabbits have the best conversion ratio for pounds of feed to pounds of gain,” Geisert said. That sustainability factor makes them good for the environment and the perfect livestock for a motivated, energetic young farmer looking to branch out.

“When you’re your own boss you’re also taking on the liability. … There’s money in it,” Geisert said, staring at the pens he built with untreated wood (free of chemicals in case the rabbits chew on them). “If I can figure it out.”

Talking to this hard-skinned, young business owner, at times I felt like an insufferable character from the show Girls attempting to communicate with a real human: Does the animals’ cuteness make it hard for you to do your job? Seriously? Geisert opened a pen and lifted out a dappled brown rabbit with gentle no-nonsense. It remained calm as he petted it. He cared for these animals every day with an all-natural feed and humane housing.

Geisert came to raise rabbits because he was a born farmer. One town over in Labadie, Rosalie Truong became a farmer because she started raising rabbits. When I met Truong, petite with a black pixie cut and a big perpetual smile, she was wearing a beautiful angora wool dress that she knitted herself, from yarn she hand spun, from rabbits she raised and sheared. “I like the idea of doing everything,” Truong said.

She was talking about how she got started raising Angoras after taking a hand spinning night class (She also tried Hawaiian dancing, with fewer consequences.). But Truong’s comment rang more broadly true. Along with fiber and meat rabbits, her Grand Army Farm is home to quail, ducks, chickens, geese, goats, some massive guardian dogs and a biodynamic garden. “My husband calls me a collector of hobbies,” Truong said.

A collector of professions is also accurate; Truong is an obstetric anesthesiologist at St.

Luke’s Hospital in Chesterfield, a mother and a farmer. She has a farm manager and hires a few high school students to help with the work, but still. “It’s not uncommon for me to work 18 to 20 hours a day and sleep four hours,” Truong said. “I’m driven. I’ve always been that way. I’m like, ‘This is going to happen because I want it to happen.’”

Truong has raised Angoras since 1988, but she got into meat rabbits, typically the New Zealand breed, just a few years ago. They are colonyraised, cage-free in her barn, which allows them to behave more like they would in the wild. Remember Watership Down? Wild fluffles live in warrens with a dominant male and a pecking order. “It’s fun to see them run around and do what they normally do,” Truong said. “There’s a lot more social interaction (in colony raising).”

Entering the red Grand Army barn amid a swarm of multicolored chickens, I understood what she meant. I’d never seen a whole colony of rabbits before. I could see more than 20 hopping around, sniffing each other and diving into the burrows Truong couldn’t prevent them from digging in the hay-scattered dirt floor. A curious jet-black rabbit came over to inspect me and bite my shoes. Two little white-furred babies snuggled against a wall. They weren’t there just to be cute for me; they were doing their own thing, and it was fascinating to watch.

I had to remind myself that, unlike her Angoras, Truong wasn’t going to keep these rabbits for their whole natural lives. It was clear she loved them. She loved watching them run around and giving them what they needed to be healthy, supplementing feed with vegetables from the garden they helped grow with manure. But she also slaughtered them herself. “People are so fascinated by that, but to me it’s just one part of it,” Truong said after too many gruesome questions.

She uses a device called a hopper popper. “It’s more humane,” she said. “You break their neck, and they’re out instantly.” She didn’t seem to like talking about it, but she won’t allow anyone else to slaughter her rabbits. “I like to control that aspect,” she said. Doing it herself saves Truong’s rabbits the stress of transport, and it also ensures their humane treatment from birth to death. That makes

Truong’s love for her animals different and ultimately more significant than mine.

Hearing me gush over all these farm animals, a co-worker predicted I would become a vegetarian. But that’s not where all this is headed. It feels morbid to ask about slaughtering rabbits, but if I eat meat, then I’m already a part of that process. Knowing someone like Truong or Geisert is involved makes it something I’m OK with. And so, clearly incapable of leaving well enough alone, I decided to test this progress toward animal-loving-omnivore self-acceptance by making my own rabbit ragu with fresh pasta, inspired by Luce.

I went to Bolyard’s Meat & Provisions where I found myself nervously handing my recipe across the counter and talking too loudly about how much better rabbits are for the environment than other livestock. The chatty butchers were enthusiastic about the recipe and quizzically polite when I mumbled something about having a pet rabbit. I averted my eyes while they broke down two Grand Army Farm rabbits, and I left with a paper-wrapped parcel of cuts that didn’t look too rabbit-y at all. Meat’s meat, I thought with a shrug.

At home in my kitchen, I put on some music and poured a big glass of wine. I browned, I sauteed, I deglazed, I braised. I felt pretty good – I’d done this countless times with all kinds of meat. Then it came time to debone and shred. It started fine, but when I came to the ribs and saddle (the back cut), I paused. Rabbits are super lean. When you pet a rabbit, you can feel each fragile rib beneath its fluffy fur. Removing those ribs, I had a horrible memory montage of Bunny wiggling her nose and kicking up her little cottontail in a binky. Then I finished cooking. I had people coming over for pasta.

Yes, it’s disturbing for me to cook rabbit. But I’d rather that discomfort make me care more about the meat I eat than reinforce a childhood taboo. I already knew I could love some animals and eat others. I’m coming around to loving the animals I eat by ensuring they have good lives and then are treated with the dignity they deserve: like by making them into a life-changing pasta dish.

Rosalie Truong holds a young rabbit at Grand Army Farms.

GUACAMOLE ULTIMATE The

BY KELLIE HYNES // PHOTOS BY GREG RANNELLS

recipe on p. 45

DELICIOUS AS A CHIP DIP AND DECADENT AS A SANDWICH SPREAD, GUACAMOLE WINS THE PRIZE FOR MOST VERSATILE SUMMER SNACK. WHILE ALMOST ANY MARKET CARRIES THE GREEN GODDESS, NO THING BEATS THE TASTE OF FRESH HOMEMADE. WHEN A DISH IS THIS SIMPLE, EVERY STEP COUNTS, SO WE CHATTED WITH LOCAL EXPERTS TO MAKE THE ULTIMATE GUACAMOLE FROM SCRATCH. READ ON TO LEARN HOW TO PICK THE PERFECT AVOCADOS, WHY A JALAPENO MAKES YOU CRY, AND WHICH CHIP IS A WORTHY VEHICLE FOR THE GREATEST GUAC AROUND.

INGREDIENTS

THE AVOCADOS

Great guacamole begins with perfectly ripe avocados. Skip the ones that are cracked, dented or mushy. Husband and wife team Salvador and Adela Esparza of Lily’s Mexican Restaurant select avocados that give ever so slightly when pressed. When buying in advance, Adela Esparza suggested choosing hard avocados and letting them ripen on the counter until they soften.

THE SEASONING

We tested batches with kosher, pink Himalayan and table salt with Público chef de cuisine Brad Bardon. Our verdict: The type of salt doesn’t affect the taste nearly as much as the

quantity, so use whichever salt you have on hand, but just a little. “You can always add more salt, but you can’t take it out,” Bardon said. Cumin adds unexpected earthy notes that offset the sharpness of the raw onions.

THE JALAPENO

Contrary to popular belief, the jalapeno’s seeds aren’t responsible for its spicy heat. That comes from capsaicin, a kicky chemical compound concentrated in the pepper’s pith and ribs. For less heat, simply trim the white parts away from the pepper before adding it to your guacamole.

THE CILANTRO

Leaves and stems are equally tasty, so there’s no need to painstakingly remove the leaves one by one – simply chop the whole bunch. The cilantroaverse, for whom the herb tastes overwhelmingly soapy, can substitute a teaspoon of ground coriander, which is the cilantro seed. It adds a deeper, more savory flavor than the fresh green plant.

THE TOMATOES

Tomato adds a beautiful contrasting color and prevents the texture of your guacamole from getting gummy. Just make sure the tomato is fresh and flavorful and scoop out the seeds before you dice to prevent the dish from becoming watery.

THE CHEESE

Salvador Esparza sprinkles grated white cotija cheese as a garnish on Lily’s guacamole. “Use just a little, so that it looks nice but doesn’t overwhelm the guacamole,” instructed Esparza. He prefers cotija because it’s a mild Mexican cheese, similar to Parmesan, but not as salty. La Chona cotija Mexican style grated cheese, $3 for 8 oz. Supermercado el Torito, 2753 Cherokee St., St. Louis, 314.771.8648

TECHNIQUE

Instead of blending it into a smooth paste, Bardon suggested keeping the guacamole chunky by lightly chopping the avocados with the edge of a metal spoon. “I think it’s better to have a little variance,” Bardon said. “Pockets of different flavors and texture break things up.” We combined our ingredients with a few presses of a wavy potato masher for the same effect. The open-style masher mixes the ingredients while preserving precious chunks of avocado.

quick tip

Remove the pit by cutting the avocado in half vertically, then twisting it apart. Place the half with the pit on a cutting board, and then strike the pit with a large kitchen knife. Hold the avocado firmly in one hand, then carefully twist the knife, which will remove the pit.

TOOLS

THE MASHER

For the best guacamole texture, chunk it up with Best Manufacturer’s 11-inch stainless professional masher. $17. Kitchen Conservatory, 8021 Clayton Road, Clayton, 314.862.2665, kitchenconservatory.com

THE MOLCAJETE

A molcajete is the star of restaurant tableside guacamole presentations, but this stone mortar and pestle will pulverize your avocados if you’re not careful. Use a molcajete for serving, not smashing. $19. Carniceria Latino Americana, 2800 Cherokee St., St. Louis, 314.773.1707

THE CHIPS

If you’re looking for the perfect complement, stay away from chips that are overwhelmingly salty (We’re looking at you, Tostitos.) or full of competing flavors, like spicy black bean tortilla chips. Instead, choose an authentic chip that’s packed with fresh corn flavor and light on oil and salt like El Milagro Mexican kitchen style Totopos chips. $3. Supermercado el Torito, 2753 Cherokee St., St. Louis, 314.771.8648

THE ULTIMATE GUACAMOLE

2 SERVINGS

2 ripe avocados, halved and pitted

2 heaping Tbsp. diced white onion

½ cup diced fresh tomato, seeded

1 Tbsp. finely diced jalapeno, seeded

1 Tbsp. lime juice

2 Tbsp. chopped cilantro

¼ tsp. kosher salt, plus more to taste

¼ tsp. cumin

1 Tbsp. grated cotija cheese

Tortilla chips, for serving

• Spoon the avocado flesh from the skins and place it in a bowl. Lightly chop the avocado with the edge of the spoon, or press it with a potato masher. The avocado should still be chunky.

• Add the onion, tomato, jalapeno, lime juice, cilantro, salt and cumin to the avocado. Stir gently until just combined. Taste and adjust seasonings. Transfer guacamole to a molcajete or other serving dish. Sprinkle with cotija and serve with chips.

BEE'S KNEES

Honey Co. Comb Honey

$18.50. Local Harvest Grocery, 3108 Morgan Ford Road, St. Louis, 314.865.5260, localharvestgrocery.com

Honey salted caramel

75 cents. Pint Size Bakery, 3133 Watson Road, St. Louis, 314.645.7142, pintsizebakery.com

Honey Foam

$5. Rick Jordan Chocolatier, 14882 Clayton Road, Chesterfield, 636.230.9300, rjchocolatier.com

$13. Bee Naturals Spa and Massage, 7192 Manchester Road, Maplewood, 314.474.7703, beenaturals.com

Bee Sting cupcake

$5.50. Jilly’s Cupcake Bar & Cafe, 8509 Delmar Blvd., University City, 314.993.5455, jillyscupcakebar.com

Robins

Beard Balm

Fountain Creek Kölsch

$5.50 per pint. Stubborn German Brewing Co., 119 S. Main St., Waterloo, Illinois, 618.504.2444, Facebook: Stubborn German Brewing Co.

Bee Onesie

$18. Sprouted Designs, sprouteddesigns.etsy.com

Drambuie

$35. The Wine & Cheese Place, 7435 Forsyth Blvd., Clayton, 314.727.8788, wineandcheeseplace.com

Stinger’s Bee Pollen

$12. Winslow’s Home, 7213

Delmar Blvd., University City, 314.725.7559, winslowshome.com

Jubilee Diamond Honeycomb Bundt Cake Pan

$34. Kitchen Conservatory, 8021 Clayton Road, Clayton, 314.862.2665, kitchenconservatory.com

Serrano Chile Balsamic Honey Vinegar

$15. Extra Virgin an Olive Ovation, 8829 Ladue Road, Ladue, 314.727.6464, extravirginoo.com

Honey jar and wooden dipper

$140. Lusso, 165 Carondelet Plaza, Clayton, 314.725.7205, shoplusso.com

Mason bee nest kit

$14. Bowood Farms, 4605 Olive St., St. Louis, 314.454.6868, bowoodfarms.com

Woodside Urban Honey

$7. The Wine & Cheese Place, 7435 Forsyth Blvd., Clayton, 314.727.8788, wineandcheeseplace.com

La Rochere French bee tumbler

$10. Sur La Table, 295 Plaza Frontenac, Frontenac, 314.993.0566, surlatable.com

16

Velvet Bees Honey Butter

$9. Parker’s Table, 7118 Oakland Ave., St. Louis, 314.645.2050, parkerstable.com

stuff to do: JUNE

BY KRISTIN SCHULTZ

Best Bar Tales

June 5 – 3 to 6 p.m., Planter’s House, 1000 Mississippi Ave., St. Louis, 314.696.2603, plantershousestl.com

Because the best stories are told at the bar, head to Lafayette Square and sample more than 30 spirits in 14 cocktails created by the capable booze whisperers at Planter’s House and brand ambassadors from William Grant & Sons. Sip scotch and cocktails inside or step onto the patio and sample gin and other spirits at the two al fresco bars. Tickets available online and at the door.

Heritage Festival

June 11 – 1 to 4 p.m. and 7 to 10 p.m., Leonor K. Sullivan Boulevard, St. Louis, stlbg.com/heritage

The St. Louis Brewers Guild is taking it downtown this year where more than 40 area breweries pour their beer at The Arch grounds. Tickets for each session include a commemorative tasting glass to fill with offerings from 2nd Shift to Six Mile Bridge Beer and everything in between. Check out upcoming breweries like Rockwell Beer and Bastard Brothers Brewing Co., as well as familiar favorites like Urban Chestnut Brewing Co. and Perennial Artisan Ales. Fill up on grub from Completely Sauced, Salt & Smoke and others. Tickets available online.

Graze in the Grass: Farm to Fork Experience

June 11 – 5 to 8 p.m., Marcoot Jersey Creamery, 526 Dudleyville Road, Greenville, Illinois, 618.664.1110, marcootjerseycreamery.com

Pull up a seat in Marcoot Jersey Creamery’s pasture for a dinner with James Beard Foundation

Award finalist for Best Chef: Midwest, Kevin Willmann of Farmhaus. Willmann serves seasonal fare alongside Marcoot’s artisanal cheeses, local beer and wine. Tickets available online or by phone.

Festa Junina

June 12 – noon to 4 p.m., Kirkwood Community Center, 1111 S. Geyer Road, Kirkwood, vivabrasilstl.org

Celebrate the harvest at this Brazilian Folk Festival. Learn about traditional Brazilian culture through carnival games, costumes and food like corn-based sweets including cakes, terrines and flans. Sip a caipirinha, the national drink of Brazil made with cachaca, limes and ice. Tickets available online and at the door.

Dine Out for Lupus

June 14 – times and locations vary, Facebook: Washington University Lupus Clinic

Grab a slice of pizza or a porterhouse steak with your friends and help those living with lupus. Choose from more than a dozen restaurants from Clayton to Edwardsville including Crushed Red, Herbie’s Vintage ’72, Copper Pig, Lucas Park Grille and 1818 Chophouse. Present the Dine Out for Lupus flier on your phone or on paper at any participating restaurant and a portion of your bill is donated to The Lupus Foundation of America – Heartland Chapter and the Washington University Lupus Clinic.

Farmers Market Bounty

June 25 – 6 to 9 p.m., Companion, 2331 Schuetz Road, Maryland Heights, 314.627.5257, companionbaking.com What do you do

with mountains of broccoli or piles of kale? What about nettles and sumac?

Chef Cassy Vires guides you through the truckload of produce you brought home from the farmers market during this cooking class. Learn how Vires develops recipes inspired by market ingredients, then try them in your home kitchen to make the most of nature’s bounty. Reservations available online.

sponsored events

Central West End Cocktail Party

June 4 – 5 to 10 p.m., Euclid Avenue between Maryland and McPherson avenues, St. Louis, cwescene.com

It’s believed that the first recorded cocktail party took place in 1917 in the Central West End. Raise a glass to history at the Central West End Cocktail Party. Guests enjoy live music, street performers and Dr. Dan the Pancake Man while they sip drinks from more than 10 CWE restaurants, including El Burro Loco, Sub Zero Vodka Bar and Gamlin Whiskey House. Stick around to watch the final round of professional and amateur cocktail competitions and see who takes the boozy first prize.

Just Five: From Sauce Magazine

June 7 – 6:30 p.m., Dierbergs, 1081 Lindemann Road, Des Peres, dierbergs.com/school

Join Sauce contributing writer Dee Ryan, who regularly pens Make This, for her cooking class based on her online column, Just Five. Learn to make mouthwatering dishes like sugar snap pea and prosciutto salad , flank steak with chimichurri and polenta with roasted tomatoes, all with just five key ingredients in each recipe. Seating is limited; reserve your spot online.

Komen Missouri Dine Out for the Cure

June 9 – participating restaurants, komenmissouri.org

Enjoy a good meal and help fight breast cancer at Komen Dine Out for the Cure. More than 50 area restaurants and food trucks donate a portion of their proceeds from the day’s sales to the nonprofit. Enjoy pizza at Dewey’s, barbecue at

Adam’s Smokehouse or a concrete at Fritz’s Frozen Custard and support local breast health programs and breast cancer research. A full list of participating restaurants is available online.

Food Truck Friday

June 10 – 4 to 8 p.m., Tower Grove Park, 4256 Magnolia Ave., St. Louis, 314.772.8004, saucefoodtruckfriday.com

Gather the lawn chairs, grab the dog leash and head to Tower Grove Park for Food Truck Friday. Check out favorites like Go Gyro Go, Slice of the Hill, Totally Toasted and The Sweet Divine. Urban Chestnut Brewing Co. and 4 Hands Brewing Co. pull pints, and The Porch in So�lard offers wine this year, while Emily Wallace rocks the evening away.

The Picnic in the Park

June 12 – 4 to 7 p.m., Tower Grove Park, 4256 Magnolia Ave., St. Louis, 314.771.4424, towergrovepark.org

Grab a picnic blanket and join hundreds of your closest friends at The Picnic in the Park. Get your grub from food trucks like Taco Truck STL, Farmtruk and Destination Desserts. Browse historical photos of the park while sipping an Urban Chestnut brew and enjoying live music from Letter to Memphis. This familyfriendly event also includes a petting zoo, crafts and balloon animals.

Saucy Soirée

June 26 – 5 to 10 p.m., St. Louis Union Station, 1820 Market St., St. Louis, 317.772.8004, saucysoiree.com

Get your tickets for the best foodie event of the year, our 10th annual Readers’ Choice party in beautiful Union Station.

Be the first to know whom you voted this year’s favorites in the St. Louis food scene. Mingle and try fare from dozens of top restaurants, wineries and breweries, and rock out to live music from Miss Jubilee and the Humdingers and Javier Mendoza.

Tickets include unlimited food and beverage tastings from about 40 St. Louis-area establishments and a signature drink.

Tower Grove Farmers Market

Saturdays – 8 a.m. to 12:30 p.m., Tower Grove Park, 4256 Magnolia Ave., St. Louis, tgmarket.org

Farmers market season has returned to Tower Grove Park in all its glory. Get there early to enjoy free yoga and qi gong classes before stocking up from new farmers like La Vista and Three Spring farms, as well as organic baby food from Stellie Bellie, salad dressings and barbecue sauces from Simple Girl and juices and plant-based treats from Core & Rind.

Reine Bayoc WHAT I DO

Step inside SweetArt during a bustling Saturday afternoon, and you’ll find it hard to believe co-owners Reine and Cbabi Bayoc had never worked in a restaurant when they opened in 2008. Cheerful staff pipe frosting onto mini cupcakes and prep vegetables behind the counter while they chat with regulars. Others dine at a community table, surrounded by Cbabi Bayoc’s colorful, family-focused artwork. The Bayocs’ recipe for success: hard work, relentless optimism and a menu that delights omnivores and herbivores alike. Here, Reine Bayoc shares her thoughts on baked goods, honest conversation and serving more than great cupcakes.

– Catherine Klene

Starting out

“It worked in the beginning because it had to. We spent all our money to open this, and we didn’t take out a loan. We had three kids and a couple hundred dollars left. When you’re in that sort of do-or-die situation, you do. So we did.”

On vegetarian and vegan food

“We don’t put out anything unless it tastes delicious. It’s not one of those ‘It’s delicious – for vegan.’ It has to be delicious, period.”

Mom’s buttermilk biscuits

“On Saturdays we have these biscuits … that remind me of my mother’s biscuits, and they are the best baked good in the shop. … I’ve had people come in and say, ‘This is better than Popeye’s!’ And look, to black people, when you come in and say a biscuit is better than Popeye’s – what? That is a spectacular biscuit.”

Beyond sweets

“It’s so not about cupcakes and cookies. People come here (when) they could go anywhere and they come here for a reason. … That’s the energy that we are trying to create. Everyone has a day; some people have really long days. Everyone has a life, and some people have really hard lives, and they come here to release a little bit.

Fostering dialogue

“We have people from all walks of life and all

nationalities and ethnicities who feel comfortable (here). And I don’t know how that happens. I don’t know if it’s the art, I don’t know if it’s (the) cupcakes, I don’t know if it’s the staff, but they come and they feel safe, so I feel like that made it easier for us to have those open dialogues (about) racial issues.”

Pursuit of perfection

“Everything evolves. Even our traditional baked goods evolve. I’ve changed probably 90 percent of our recipes in the last year. I’m constantly pushing it just a little bit further.”

On confidence

“In the beginning I questioned myself so much because I didn’t go to culinary school. (I thought), ‘Oh, but I’ve worked really hard and I think I’m good at this and people seem to like it.’ … Now there is no ego in this. I come in, I put on my apron, I get to work, and I don’t question myself. If I think it’s good, it’s good.”

BY

PHOTO

ASHLEY GIESEKING