By Rose Martelli
Photograph by Katherine Bish

Thank God Atkins finally died—not the good Dr. Robert C. Atkins himself, whose untimely passing due to a nasty spill in 2003 was plagued with rumors that the world-famous diet guru was obese at the time of his death, but instead the carbophobic craze he created in the ’90s. Atkins prompted millions of Americans to categorically shun bread, potatoes, pasta—sustenance’s holy triumvirate!—and his diet ranks as a shameful chapter in our country’s culinary history. Had we never come to our senses, husband-and-wife chefs Jamey and Lisa Tochtrop would’ve been forced to open something like the Stellina Mayonnaise Café.

Instead, in January they debuted the Stellina Pasta Café, an urbanely cute yet family-friendly South City storefront eatery and carryout joint that traffics, if not revels, in all things starchy. Highlighting the menu are the daily pasta specials (three at lunch, four or five at dinner) that always include lasagna, a flat pasta like fettuccine, and a stuffed pasta like ravioli or agnolotti. All are made from scratch with organic semolina or flaxseed, which lend an earthier, more complex flavor and a higher nutritional content than an average enriched flour.

This especially holds true for the agnolotti, often prepared as of late with a butternut squash filling. (The Tochtrops believe in seasonal as well as organic ingredients.) The ravioli-like casings burst open, their creamy, nutty interior well complemented by the pasta’s rustic taste yet, thanks to the delicious puréed squash, practically sweet enough to sit inside the dessert case. The daily lasagna is typically layered with veggies and protein (say, spinach and grilled chicken), but here the starch itself proves the star of the dish. Treated to limited (sometimes barely visible) amounts of tomato sauce and cheese, it’s done up in a very homemade way—which is to say unevenly at times. The bottom layer may feel as squishy-soft in the mouth as gnocchi, whereas the top might sport a burnt crust like the bottom of a pizza. It’s enjoyable comfort food, despite its sometimes frustrating inconsistencies.

Fettuccine with smoked salmon, capers and onions in a cream sauce has been a customer favorite so far, and Jamey plans to toss more expensive ingredients into the dinner pastas as Stellina’s menu evolves. For now, sliced-up Italian sausages from DiGregorio’s on the Hill have suited many of the noodle dishes nicely, lending full-bodied taste and heft to meals that, like the lasagna, rank as unfancy and unfussy yet satisfying.

Stacked upon thick, crusty, sturdy slabs of bread—from local bakery Breadsmith, the only foodstuff Stellina doesn’t prepare in-house—the menu’s six gourmet sandwiches include Talking Turkey, a standout combination of roasted turkey breast, sprouts and a creamy smear of avocado spread; and Il Capo, another nod to the cured meats of the Hill—and a carnivore/carbivore’s dream.

One of Stellina’s two deli-style cold cases houses single-serving nests of fresh, uncooked flat pastas sold by weight—and, in a nod to other forms of nourishment, wedges of hard cheese and mounds of olive salad and hummus—while the other is outfitted each morning with Lisa’s tarts, cookies and cakes, like her airy, fluffy amaretto cheesecake or her rich and visually stunning chocolate–peanut butter bomb. Because if you’re going to champion starch, you may as well cop to your true love, sugar.


3342 Watson, 314-256-1600, stellinapasta.com. Hours: 10 a.m.–9 p.m. Mon–Fri, 9 a.m.-5 p.m. Sat.