Photography by Kevin A. Roberts
Once upon a time, this town had plenty of little neighborhood eateries. Families—or maybe curmudgeonly bachelors—ran them, none of the wait staff dressed up, half of the customers were known by name, and only the schoolteacher from down the street had heard the word “franchise.” There are, happily, a few such places still around, not temples of haute cuisine, but places serving regular folks’ food. A new one seems to be thriving on Telegraph Road in South County.
Café Telegraph at the Barracks is indeed about a block from Jefferson Barracks. There are plenty of military items in its decor. It also has some great recycled items from the old Arena and other curiosities, in both the bar and the dining room.
In terms of food, plan on the smoked wings. Huge, moist, and absolutely remarkable, they are great even without the optional pass through the deep fryer. And by all means, either here or with another dish, try adding the house-made sweet chili sauce, redolent of garlic, with a medium amount of heat. Use it as a dip, to savor the wings. The same sauce arrives with the onion rings, which are crunchy, thick, and perfectly drained.
And speaking of smoke, visit the café on Mondays or Thursdays for the day’s special: smoked meatloaf—a thick slice, wonderfully juicy, arriving alongside house-made coleslaw that’s lightly dressed and a touch sweet. Love smoked pulled pork? You can have it on nachos, in a signature wrap, on a sandwich, or even on a pizza—have it your way, indeed. It’s moist and properly smoky, but it doesn’t beat out the wings or meatloaf.
The Barracks burger is pattied by hand, although no one inquired how well done we wanted it, and it arrived far too dry. De Smet chicken Modiga (almost everything here bears the name of a person or school) is almost chicken-fried chicken. It was boned, breaded, and fried, then served with cheese on top and a bacony white sauce, along with fresh mushrooms. But the promised lemon and white wine were MIA.
Among the sides, the house salad resembles that served at The Pasta House, iceberg with a sweet dressing. The sweet-potato fries are delicious, crisp-crunchy with no added sugar. And a cavatelli with white sauce channels Italian comfort food. In the interest of real nostalgia, sides of cottage cheese and applesauce are offered as well.
The signature dessert is the hand grenade, the café’s name for its donuts, cooked to order, 10 small pillows tossed in powdered sugar, topped with gooey chocolate icing, or covered in a peanut butter–honey mixture. We’re partial to the last, which reminds us of one of the few edible things in our elementary-school cafeteria, the Friday sandwiches. But the powdered-sugar kind is nice, too, evoking beignets after a night of carousing in New Orleans.
Service is pleasant, though it occasionally gets a little stretched. But this is the sort of place where there may be a wedding shower in the bar for one of the servers. Congratulations to one and all.
2650 Telegraph
314-200-9952
Lunch and dinner daily
