Photograph by Katherine Bish
For newbie foodies or those with short memories, Patricia Corrigan was the restaurant critic at the Post-Dispatch from 1997 to 2003. Today, she's no less passionate about the local food scene, and maybe even more so. When I interviewed her in mid-October, she was so fired up about the local farmer who was growing late-season tomatoes that I immediately went out and bought some. The same intensity and infectiousness is found throughout her newest book, Eating St. Louis: The Gateway City's Unique Food Culture, a roundup of little-known historical factoids gleaned from interviews at 130 bastions of local food and drink; it's a must-read for anyone who's spent — or plans to spend — any time in St. Louis wining or dining or even shopping for groceries.
I had no idea you've written 15 books. After leaving the Post, I did have a fantasy of becoming a massage therapist until I learned I had arthritis in both hands from typing for 30 years. That ended that career.
Sometimes reputations die hard. Do restaurants still recognize you as a food critic? Even when I was one, very few people recognized me, even though my picture had accompanied my byline for years. Let's face it — a lot of the young restaurant hostesses don't even know there is a newspaper in town, so I was always surprised when I was recognized.
Restaurant owners pay more attention now ... they all think they know the critics. Yes, but the idea that this is a cutthroat "critics need disguises" restaurant town like New York or San Francisco is laughable to me. The Post was concerned that I was getting better food or more food ... but that just didn't happen.
So you never got a better plate of food than the average guest? Absolutely not. I remember lots of burnt vegetables and bad meals. I remember a pork chop we sent back because it was frozen in the middle. When it reappeared, the plate was very hot but the chop was still frozen. When the waiter offered to wrap it, my friend couldn't resist saying, "why, so I can cook it at home?"
Critiquing restaurants is an enviable job. What did you like best about it? Experiencing the independent restaurants in all the little neighborhoods. There are 4,800 restaurants in the metro area, and 60 percent are owner-operated, a very high number for a town this size. According to the Missouri Restaurant Association, about 50 open each year, most of them independent.
And the worst? My fear was putting someone out of business ... but I wasn't going to let anybody get away with anything either. I tried to be fair ... I certainly annoyed some people but I don't think I ever buried anybody.
Good critics understand the complexity of the restaurant business. There is no one I respect more [than a restaurant owner]. You decide to buy fish for a weekend special, and then everyone orders beef. How do you make that work?
You make fish stew on Sunday. It's a difficult juggle. One time, I deconstructed a restaurant bill into how much goes to food, drinks, right down to table linen and the guys who clean up ... It's mathematically terrifying. There's nothing left.
Do you cook much at home? When I retired, I did buy new cookware — actually nightgowns and cookware. That was my hope for retirement. Not really the best purchases, all things considered.
What's your favorite upscale restaurant? Who does it right? Paul Manno's. Zagat called it the best Italian in St. Louis. Very nice people. First was Paulo, then came another Paul, now it's young Paul who's running the place, and he just had a baby he named ... Paul.
Favorite casual? Duff's ... been going there since it opened and I just like the feel of it. Nothing snooty about any part of it. There's always something new and always the old favorites. I like Trattoria Marcella. And Robust.
Eating St. Louis is dense. I can see a lot of work went into it. I interviewed all those people, researched it and wrote it all in three months.
Why the frenetic pace? For me it was no big deal. I'm a trained deadline writer ... that taught me focus and discipline. I remember interviewing a Mother Superior on the phone at 10:10 and getting her story in by the 10:30 deadline.
Was there an interview that just blew you away? Jack Parker, when he was at the original O'Connell's in Gaslight Square, told me of the February night when Allen Ginsberg walked in. After some Greenwich Village small talk, he plopped himself next to the fireplace, whipped off his shoes, put on his finger cymbals and started reciting from [Lydia] Howell's Calling Allen Ginsberg. I so much wanted to have been there ... but I was in junior high ... so I doubt if I would have been invited.
That stuff happens. That's what I like about St. Louis. There is a lot going on here all the time. Sometimes you just have to dig a little.
My favorite bit was Mina Evans' "Golden Fried Chicken Loaf" restaurant. Why hasn't someone replicated that? A cut-up fried chicken served inside a 4-inch-wide loaf of French bread that had been buttered and toasted? No one would eat it.
Sure they would. The place got so popular Mina was raising all her chickens and butchering her own cattle.
And according to your book, she still had time to bake pies. On some days, she sold 300.
The photos are incredible, like the classic Parkmoor shot from 1935, with a full parking lot and carhops everywhere. Or the shot of the men at the Volpi factory in 1906 working through the mountain of what would become prosciutto.
The Volpi story makes its hometown proud. Volpi salami is now shipped worldwide ... and the fact that they passed the reins of their paternalistic company to a woman family member [Lorenza Pasetti] says a lot. She oversees production of 14 kinds of salami — 37 tons of it — every week.
What's new with Missouri wines? Most folks don't know that Lucian Dressel [former owner of Augusta's Mount Pleasant Winery] was responsible for getting Augusta designated as the first American Viticultural Area in 1980. [Napa Valley was the second.] He's now in Illinois breeding grapes ... crossing the indigenous Norton with Cabernet and Zinfandel, hoping that, in time, his hybrid will be the grape that this region will be known for.
I was also intrigued by Maddie Earnest. Just last year, she started Local Harvest Grocery after reading about a similar chain in Portland where 20 percent of the items were locally grown or produced. Her goal is 50 percent. The store is 800 square feet, the same size as the first Schnucks store. I said to her, "It's possible." Researching this book, I met so many driven people like her.
It's nice to see Farmer's Markets are hot. The "going local" movement is going crazy. Every neighborhood wants its own small market. They do spoil you ... the strawberries I get from Thies Farms in the Spring are like rubies. I eat a pint a day. And I won't eat tomatoes unless they are "real" [seasonal] tomatoes ... serve me polyester orange ones and I will sling them around the room.
I loved the Produce Row stories ... my grandfather was a banana broker in those days. Little known fact ... tarantulas used to come in on "hands" of bananas. You'd have to smack them on the counter so the snakes and big spiders would fall out. That's how the Zoo got started ... people would show up with creatures and want to make their contribution. Raccoons, lizards, one woman brought in an owl ... but the best was the guy with a lion who would only donate it with the lion's best friend, a Labrador retriever, claiming "they can't be separated."
You are indeed a wealth of information. That all came from my book about the Zoo.
