Photography by Kevin A. Roberts
A restaurant based on something as mundane as milk and toast? Chefs Rachel Moeller and Colleen Clawson say it’s a testament to the St. Louis culinary scene that such a place is possible. If you’re in the mood for Nutella, bananas, peanut toast, and a really good chocolate almond milk, now there’s a place to get it. 2212 S. Jefferson, milquetoastbar.com.
How did you two get together?
RM: Colleen was a new bartender at Venice Café. She claims that I was her first regular.
CC: We worked together at Remy’s [Kitchen & Wine Bar in Clayton] until I got pregnant and went over to Big Sky Café so I didn’t have to climb stairs. I became the chef and worked up until my due date.
Rachel, when did you leave Remy’s?
RM: A year ago, I discovered I had food allergies and left to open an in-home, personal chef company—Healthy at Home Culinary Services—that addresses food allergies and dietary issues.
Who came up with the idea for Milque Toast?
CC: It came together a year ago, when several conversations morphed together… The back yard of Milque Toast is right behind mine. One day, while looking out my window—and discussing a goat, of all things—the conversation moved to putting a goat in that yard and the possibility of goat milk and doing a milk bar and how toast goes with milk. Since Nutella toast is a favorite breakfast at our house, at that point it all magically came together.
Is there anything like this anywhere in the country?
RM: I know there are places in San Francisco and New York that feature toast, but none that feature different milks.
How many milk varieties will you offer?
RM: We’ll have high-quality local dairy milk and a rotating selection of grain milks—such as oat or rice milk—and nut milks—like cashew, coconut, and almond—plus house-made syrups and flavorings.
How many kinds of toasts will you offer?
RM: Half a dozen to start, using bread from local bakeries, but with a wide
selection of butters, jellies, and savory spreads. On the weekends, there’ll be open-faced sandwiches, like the Danish smørrebrød—topped with things like Gorgonzola, fig, and spinach—as well as slow-cooked stews served with a big chunk of bread. There are countless options—the bread is only the vehicle, the palette.
Explain the basic concept and if it changed.
CC: The concept hasn’t changed, but it has fleshed out. We just wanted a place for people to hang out—a place that wasn’t a bar—a daytime place that’s inclusive and welcoming.
Will alcohol ever enter into the mix?
RM: Since we’re not open at night, I’d like to investigate hosting special dinners where alcohol would play a part.
Describe the restaurant’s layout.
RM: Tiny and narrow, like a shoebox. There will be 12 seats and a counter that tapers at one point, because kids are short—and we’re short—plus an additional 30 seats on the patio, next to raised garden beds.
The walls are brick, I assume?
RM: The building has a unique history in that it was never a building… It doesn’t exist in the records.
CC: Our side walls are two former exterior walls. We left them as untouched as we could. All of the natural light, the painted and weathered brick...so charming. It represents everything that I love about living on the south side: fresh ideas, new energy, the juxtaposition of old and new.
What’s on the walls?
CC: Both Rachel and I have fine-arts degrees, so art and aesthetics are important and will be something we’ll promote.
What’s been the response?
CC: St. Louis has progressed to the point where something like this can be supported.
RM: And we’ll be supporting other locals, from bread bakers to jam makers.
CC: There’s really not much confrontation regarding toast and milk.
RM: And do you know anyone who doesn’t like chocolate milk?
