Photograph by Kevin A. Roberts
Tourist. Tourist. Office workers. Med-school student wearing scrubs to impress girls. Secretary unimpressed by scrub-wearing med school student. Tourist. Commercial painters. Cop. Part of the joy of lunching at Adriana’s On The Hill is the popular tableside game where, as you eat, you guess the professions of those standing in line around you to order. It’s diverse. Want to take a visitor to an eatery that best captures the panoply of civilization here? You can’t do better than Adriana’s.
This landmark on The Hill (since the days when that was just the last part of the neighborhood’s name) is invariably packed at lunch, six days a week. A recent renovation lightened the atmosphere considerably, with new paint and Mediterranean-looking ceramic floor tiles. The same, original pressed-tin ceiling’s in place, though, along with those classy vinyl tablecloths, and tables are still so crowded that weaving your way between them affords the kind of intimacy with fellow diners you usually don’t expect until the third date.
Portions here could have fed most of the steerage class of those immigrant ships that brought many of The Hill’s Sicilian ancestors over. Sandwiches, on crusty Italian bread, are easily enough for two normal lunch appetites. Soup-and-salad combinations matched with half- sandwiches are a reasonable alternative.
Meatball sandwiches slathered in a rich red sauce; Italian beef, sliced thin and topped with roasted peppers and onions; a Hill Boy layered with mortadella, ham, and pepperoncinis—the menu is an array of Italian-American classics. Be sure to mispronounce salsiccia so they’ll know you’re a local, if you happen to order this sandwich, a testament to vinegar and oil-soaked, sausagey goodness that’ll do for your arteries what Grandpa’s Dodge Dart does for traffic on Highway 40.
We’re suckers for Charlie’s Special, gooey mozzarella and Provolone squeezed between buttered, toasted bread-halves, dolled up with lettuce, black olives, tomatoes, and onions, only a little of which we wear on our shirt the remainder of the day.
Sfincione goes by its better-known name—Sicilian pizza—here, a thick, square of foccacia-type bread, where the toppings merely back up the yeasty, fluffy joy of carbohydrates. A chilly eggplant, caper, and olive caponata goes on the side of nearly everything at Adriana’s and their garlic cheese bread…well, it could bring peace to the Middle East.
From the counter lady who calls you “Hon” to the fill-it-yourself drinks, this place is about as formal as the sweatpants that are on their third drawstring, and just about as comfortable. Aside from licking the Arch, it’s as close a real “taste of St. Louis” as anything you can put in your mouth.
Adriana’s On The Hill, 5101 Shaw, 314-773-3833, adrianasonthehill.com.
