By Dave Lowry
Photograph by Katherine Bish
This always happens. We get some boondoggle—this time it was the private tour of the kitchens and food booths at the new Busch Stadium we were offered last spring—and even though we initially think it’d make a story only slightly more engaging than the one about “That Time We Set the Digital Clock,” we go. Then we meet someone such as head chef Jeramie Mitchell, grand overseer of the food served at 287 sites in the ballpark—everything from the prime-rib carvery in the exclusive Cardinals Club to the terrace-level pretzel stand—and he’s fascinating. Our questions, meant purely to be polite, initiate such interesting answers that by the time we’re halfway through the tour—and into our second plate of fried portobello slices—we’re already thinking, “Damn. This is actually a good story.”
The main kitchen at the new stadium alone is a good story. Gleaming, spacious, with pots, pans and trays stacked to the ceiling—there isn’t a chef in the country who wouldn’t trade his toque to work in this place.
If your idea of ballpark eats is hot dogs and a pretzel, wake up and smell the fajitas, Gramps. On the main level of the stadium alone, you can spend almost as much time contemplating food choices as you will waiting for the MetroLink train to take you home after the game. Busch’s Plaza Grill sells grilled barbecue-chicken sandwiches with bacon and smoked cheddar piled on, as well as brat burgers, with the familiar wurst squeezed from its casing and into a patty, depriving you of the fun of spraying brat juice all over yourself and your companions with the first bite. Not far away is the stadium’s own Broadway BBQ. Mitchell’s got a state-of-the-art slow-smoker, and from it comes pulled pork, beef brisket and wings, served along with whole roasted corn ears and homemade coleslaw and potato salad. (Mitchell’s a graduate of a culinary school in South Carolina, which explains the Sweet Baby Ray’s sauce used at Busch. Carolinians like their sauce the way they like their tea and their women: sweet.)
Another main-level place that’ll make you forget all about the game is Dizzy’s Diner, featuring patty melts on grilled rye, grilled-chicken clubs and beer-battered onion rings. The “fries supreme” come with a nearly hallucinogenic topping of chili, cheese, chopped onions and sour cream.
Lord knows why, but Cardinals fans gobble more nachos than do the denizens of any other ballpark. That explains the expansive El Birdos Cantina, peddling nacho chips fried from fresh tortillas. Remember when a concession stand was cutting edge if it had an electric hot-dog rotisserie? The Cantina, whose staffers make fajitas, burritos, quesadillas and soft tacos on site, has a four-burner Garland stove that Martha Stewart would enjoy piloting. In addition to a good batter’s-eye view of the field, you can get beef cannelloni, garlic cheese bread, calzones and fresh Caesar salads at La Colina, an Italian-themed concession, also on the main level.
Now, if only there were someplace down there that sold beer ...
