Rolling Toward Breakfast Bliss

To steal a phrase from a bear named Pooh, I was feeling rumbly in my tumbly a few mornings back. Lacking the time to hit my Friday breakfast haunt in Clayton, I instead visited a petite eatery past which I drive almost daily and which I've intended to investigate for ages: Kolache Factory (2604 S. Brentwood Boulevard, 314.968.2253). From among its 25-plus middle European–style pastries, I ordered a brace of bacon, egg, and cheese kolaches ($2.29 apiece plus tax) and continued to the office. The two tidy oblate spheroids, which each had a rough diameter of 3 inches, went in the microwave for 30 seconds while I brewed coffee. Then―"hum dum de dum"―I tucked into them, savoring the sweetish, stick-to-the-ribs dough and the filling, which tasted house-made and, to my relief, nothing like the roadkill nastiness of Hot Pockets. (At that point, by the way, I also reviewed the eatery's menu at greater length; it tantalized me by listing a "Texas hot Polish sausage with jalapeño" kolache for $2.99.) One caveat seems needed, though. Two kolaches served amply even for a hearty eater like me. Indeed, on finishing them, I felt distinctly like continuing the morning's ursine trend and hibernating. -- Bryan A. Hollerbach