Well I've lived in the Midwest for 18 years. And for the first time in those 18 years, I vacationed in St. Louis. And after 27 hours, I'd had enough of St Louis.
Unfortunately the first flight out of Chicago on Saturday left at 10:30 am. American has five flights a day, and the first one doesn't leave till the end of the morning, which makes no sense at all. So I knew since the Mets game started at 3, I had to land, take the train downtown, check into the Hyatt, and hurry over to Paddy O's. My plans nearly got interrupted when the plane landed in Chicago a half hour late. The lavatory wasn't working, but thankfully they didn't delay takeoff just for that. With an hour on board, it's not the biggest concern anyway.
We landed and I jumped right on the red Metrolink line to head downtown. The stop at 8th and Pine was a four block walk east to my hotel which sat right off the Mississippi River and next to the Gateway Arch. My room wasn't even ready at 1 pm so I dropped my duffle bag and backpack at guest services and hurried south to Paddy O's.
The 7 line army came ready to cheer and ready to drink. I drank three Budweiser beers and lunches on two very enjoyable rib tacos. I saw my pal Rodolfo from Houston and I met a guy from Colorado named Dan. We chatted with a father and son from Michigan. It was fun venting about the sorry state of the team, and also sharing stories about baseball, food, and travel.
Then it was time to go. We marched loudly and purposefully up 7th Street to the third base entrance of Busch Stadium. Screaming "let's go Mets" with a thousand other people is just so invigorating. I even got a Tim McCarver bobblehead. Before heading to my seat in section 129, I drank a Schafly summer lager, a very refreshing crisp local beer.
As for the game, it sucked. That scumbag Adam Wainwright reminded us of all the misery he's instilled in us for years. And that asshole Yadier Molina had an RBI double. It was reliving one of the worst sports days ever, even it's 11 years ago. At 2-0 in the sixth inning, I knew it was over. And I was right again, they lost 4-1. But by then, I'd already showered in my room, gotten into clean clothes, and boarded the westbound MetroLink for the Grand station. My destination was the Italian section of St Louis known as the Hill.
I got off the train and had no idea where I was going. I was surrounded by medical and college buildings; I was just looking for the 14 bus. When I realized it only came every 40 minutes, I said screw this, and I summoned an Uber. It was the first of four Ubers I'd use in 20 hours. Without a doubt, one of the worst parts of the city is how hard is to get around without a car.
I was let off at Berra Park, where a little league tournament was going on. I thought the park was named after Yogi, but it was for another guy who passed away in the 60s. I'm sure he was a lovely man anyway. As I walked down the streets, it feels like the classic Italian neighborhood. No parking room, a line of brick houses with nearly manicured yards, eateries on the corners, and most of the businesses were closed by 4 pm. It definitely had that Brooklyn feel to it or even Fell's Point in Baltimore.
My restaurant of choice was Zia's. By 6 pm, there was no room in the bar area to move. They told I'd wait 45 minutes to an hour for a table. I spent the time walking around the neighborhood, noticing the local scene, and sitting on the curb with other people waiting to get in. I refused to sit at the bar as I did not want to face a TV that would have just reminded me of the lousy game. Of course with a lot of people wearing that ugly red, I was reminded of it everywhere I looked.
After 45 minutes I went back in, and I wound up waiting another half hour. Finally I got a table against the wall. I started with toasted ravioli, a staple of St Louis Italian cuisine. I got about ten small raviolis topped with Parmesan asking with a side of marinara with even more cheese. Those suckers are pretty addictive. Crispy and cheesy, they're a great start. The house salad was included and it consisted mostly of iceberg lettuce and red peppers with a ton of cheese tossed in their sweet house dressing which had a distinctive red wine vinegar flavor to it.
For my entree, I went with the chicken speidini. My waiter told me it was one of their most popular dishes. I was given a plate of chicken pieces arranged in a straight line, like a kabob without the skewer. It was served in a light sauce, with proscuitto, mushrooms, and Italian cheese. What impressed me was the seasoning on the chicken. I could taste the garlic and pepper. The chicken had a nice crust on the outside and was very juicy on the inside. It came with a side of shells and I asked for marinara. This was the most disappointing aspect of the meal for me. The sauce was just too sweet, it had no zest or kick. It was just straight tomato.
I passed on dessert as I'd just had a cannoli two days prior and the other two options had chocolate. Three dessert options is just not enough for an Italian restaurant, I'm sorry. The bill was reasonable, $27, and the service was reasonably good. But if this place is one of the best Italian restaurants in St Louis, I'm not sure I'd want to try the others.
I took an Uber to Laclede's Landing, a neighborhood which sits just north of downtown right on the river. It's sort of a step back in time, with a lot of brick buildings and brick roads. I suppose the city is trying to revitalize it by opening up bars and restaurants. I walked into the Morgan St Brewery. I saw they had peach flavored Jeremiah weed sweet tea vodka, so I got that on the rocks mixed with lemonade. But the place was quiet and mostly empty. After fifteen minutes, I was gone. I tried to have fun, as I walked back south to the ballpark village, which has a lot of bars and clubs. I went into Howl at the Moon, a duelling piano bar that I've been to many times in other cities. But this was the first that didn't charge a cover. I hung around for twenty minutes, but I realize I didn't feel like going out drinking by myself especially after a Mets loss. So by ten, I was back in my room for the night.
But I could not get to sleep so easily, between 1 and 2 am, I could hear my neighbors speaking really loudly through the walls. It got so annoying that I called security. The next morning when I woke up, they'd slid a Starbucks gift card under my door. I wish they could have given me a breakfast buffet with the omelet station, but I was thankful that they did anything because I did not expect it.
So Sunday came. I did thirty solid minutes on the elliptical and cashed in my Starbucks card for a green tea peach lemonade. Then it was over to the arch. Even at 8:30 in the morning, I could feel the intense heat and I knew I'd be staying in the shade when possible. To take the ride up in the arch, I had to go through a full metal detector. Electronics, metal, belt, all out. About the only thing I didn't have to do was remove my shoes.
They hooked me up with four other Mets fans, I guess they figured, eh, stick em all together. Basically there are eight separate elevator cars and each one seats five people. But there is so little room in these cars that you can't move during the entire four minute trip. Me first thought was hoping nobody would break wind.
We got up to the observatory deck, 630 feet high and each side had windows to gaze out from. One side showed St Louis and the other side was Illinois. There was nothing really notable ok the Illinois side. But with St Louis we could see some tall buildings, the old courthouse, the dome, and other sights. I thought the whole thing would take an hour, but after five minutes, I was ready to go.
With an hour to kill, I sat in the shade. I took the first river boat ride at 10:30 which took us down the Mississippi and pointed out a few features of the city and its history. Safe to say, this wasn't quite the architectural tour in Chicago, it wasn't even as interesting as Milwaukee.
Hungry as can be, I caught a ride to Pappy's smokehouse. I would never come to St Louis again without visiting here. By 11:30, the line was already twenty or thirty people deep. I had a half rack of ribs, sliced burnt ends, turkey, potato salad, vinegar slaw, and deep fried corn. The first part that impressed me was that my order was ready not even five minutes after I paid. I took a seat, went to wash my hands, filled my sweet tea, sat back down, and I had my food within a minute.
The ribs were seasoned nicely, and the apple and cherry wood gave them that subtle smoke flavor. The meat was juicy, as it came off the bone easily but it didn't collapse off the bone. The original sauce was well balanced and worked perfectly. The turkey was juicy as well, the burnt ends surprised me though. I expected cubes, but I got sliced meat. I used the hoodoo sauce on the beef. The slaw and salad were both fine, but the corn was crazy good. I don't think I can go back to boiled corn again. This corn was sweet and satisfying and I'll have no problem flossing later. It doesn't even bug me that they're missing cornbread from the menu, the fried corn makes up for it. I only wish they had more dessert options than just toffee chocolate cookies.
It was 1 pm and I really didn't know what else to do. I thought about vising the city museum, but I just walked the two miles back to the hotel. The Mets were dead by the third inning and not wanting to suffer anymore, I just left, getting to the airport five hours before my flight. But it gave me time to organize, and edit pictures, and play two podcasts.
And it's almost time for Samoa Joe vs Brock Lesnar...
