Diner Review X: The Eat Rite St. Louis

Diner Review
The Eat Rite
Downtown at 7th and Choateau
622 Chouteau Ave, St Louis - (314) 621-9621

There is something ultimately intimidating about the Eat Rite...even for the experienced and adventurous diner. I have been working downtown now for three years and in that time I have visited the Eat Rite only twice. I now pass it every morning and never stop. Whether it is because the over all impression of filth, the unfriendliness (and apparent uncleanliness) of the staff or the unwelcoming parking lot... it intimidates. The parking lot is sometimes used as a cheap option for Cardinal games. It always has cans, bottles and broken bottles.... nice. It is free standing which is a nice touch but standing their on the corner it looks like a beat up old stripper.

Still, a job is a job and the Eat Rite (or don’t eat at all) downtown is a monument. The net tells me it was established in the 1940’s and is one of the few historic surviving Route 66 Roadside Attractions. The plaque commemorating same says diners stopped by for great burgers and a friendly atmosphere. I cannot as of yet comment on the burgers but the “friendly atmosphere” seems to have expired shortly after the troops came home from WWII. These were without a doubt the meanest, hardest looking two women I have ever seen behind a counter. I would back either one in a knife fight because they both looked like they had made it through several.


Entering the place it is a “classic”. A shotgun diner with one long counter which curves at the end of the door for a nice J with stainless steel front and stools all around. No booths. Two vintage pinball machines and a jukebox crowd the wall. The major dominating item in the place is the menu which is up over the grill and it is impressive but once again belies the friendliness with it’s “absolutely no refills” caveat. The pricing is not bad and the grill area seems pretty clean but food is kept in a home kitchen type refrigerator and you can see to the back storage area and out to the parking lot and you wonder who they know at the health inspectors office and OSHA. The counter is covered with at least 1/2 dozen ashtrays... all full... overflowing. It makes you wonder how they do it...keep them just... brimming with ashes at all hours of the day and night. Miraculous.

Food...yes they have food and it is a good menu up on that wall. It includes a slinger and chicken fried steak and even steak though i have not tried it yet. Looks like they do their eggs well. Sausage was unremarkable and the bacon though not tasted seemed like it would be pretty good if it was as good as it looks. The potatoes were of the “breakfast” potatoe variety, not shredded but chopped up pretty food and were more then passable. The place is typified when one asks for iced tea. Clearly not a normal request for the down on their luck and drunken clientele. The friendly waitress said she didn’t know if they made any or not, when her running mate announced the affirmative and they opened the kitchen refrigerator to get a pitcher of it. Though not old... it was less then fresh.

Check out the RFT Review: http://www.riverfronttimes.com/search/restaurants.php?oid=32203

Over all I have to say again that it probably wins all awards as far as authenticity. The problems are that the food is only passable, the service is bad and borders on unfriendly and the place looks dirty as shit. Other then that it is perfect. 6 Slingers on the 10 scale.

Record Review 13 Okkervil River: "The Stage Names"

Okkervil River
The Stage Names









Sooooo...what do you do about Will Sheff. He is leader, singer, songwriter of Okkervil River. Most of the guys in the band grew up in New Hampshire and started to play together and then split up for college before re-forming in Austin in 1998. Since that time they have come out with 5 full length albums:
• 1999 Stars Too Small to Use - Jound
• 2002 Don't Fall in Love with Everyone You See - Jagjaguwar
• 2003 Down the River of Golden Dreams - Jagjaguwar
• 2005 Black Sheep Boy - Jagjaguwar
• 2007 The Stage Names - Jagjaguwar
They have a number of great E.P.s as well but their album output, is very high on over all quality. Okkervil and Sheff specialize in the atonal work that I love which is so indebted to Neil Young and a lot of their harder stuff leans strongly on Young’s tone and pacing. Sheff pens a lot of brilliant songs and as opposed to much post-Cobaine mopers ennunciates his lyrics beautifully and sometimes painfully. Sheff along with Colin Meloy and Conner Oberst are some of the most talented writers, singers, songwriters and entertainers of this current crop of talent. Each one of them has been christened a "new Dylan" at one time or another and while that is slightly (maybe tremendously) over blown it is not totally without merit.

This CD continues in the tradition although it is tighter and better produced. The CD has been very well review with Pitchfork Media concluding:

“Ultimately, The Stage Names shows how a vastly talented "mid-level band" (Sheff's words) sees itself, but there's no bitterness here, just overwhelming self-doubt and perseverance. Despite its density (they fit worlds into just nine songs), the album remains exciting and accessible, albeit highly sobering. It's about the folly of popular music and its attendant lifestyles, but these songs are so good and so moving that they only give us stupid, stubborn hope.”

That is high praise indeed. The CD merits it. It is just a really tight 9 song effort much in the same way albums used to be crafted with a nice narrative arc and a lot of feeling that rises...and falls. Will Sheff is always thrashing around in a troubled and manic way. He writes some great twisted stuff. The first song booms out....”Our Life Is Not A Movie Or Maybe.” In the song he bemoans the lack of plot, casting and quality lighting. I think it is a metaphor. But the whole CD is good, even down to the 6th song...”A Girl In A Port” where Sheff explains:
“I am not a ladykilling sort,
enough to hurt a girl in a port.”

Reminded me of Rhett Miller of the Old 97’s singing:
“My name is Stuart Ransom Miller,
and I am serial lady killer.”

These poor guys. Anyway...the CD is full of dark hooks and nice rhythms. He broods as he wails but in a way that is rarely less then compelling. While this effort might not be quite as compelling as “Black Sheep Boy” (though it might be) it is a solid collection of songs with nice indie rock sensibility and...the occasional aching steel guitars. Lets call it 9 slingers on the 10 scale. A must buy for the year if you want to listen to stuff you will never hear anywhere else.

Arlington Million

The Arlington Million
It has been a goal of mine to visit every MAJOR north american thoroughbred track before I died or got too old to appreciate it. I have done reasonably well in this noble quest. Gulfstream, Belmont, Chruchill Downs, Oaklawn, Keenland, Hialeah (when it was still operating as a major track)...and a spate of minor tracks like Calder, Remmington, Lone Star, Evageline Downs, Turf Paradise,River Downs, Beulah Park, Hawthorne and even...God forbid Fairmont Park. You might notice missing from the major track list is Pimlico, home of the Preakness because I do not view it as a “major” track but it was historically great and somehow the Preakness became a Triple Crown race. It does NOT make Pimlico a major track.

It has been an interesting tour of these places. From palaces to dumps. From super high priced luxury at Gulfstream to sitting at beulah Park south of Columbus in a lawn chair drinking a Busch tall boy. (I do not know which experience was better.) There is ALWAYS a dichotomy at a horse track. There are rich and mega rich and comfortable people walking around in the Club House...down to the poor people who are betting their government aid checks...down to the poor people who are taking care of the horses on the backside. And there are parts of every track where all three groups mingle and merge among racing forms and cigar smoke and...it is beautiful.

On Saturday August 11 I got to attend Arlington Race Track. I had only been there once before when I was just married and that was “old” Arlington...before they had a fire in 1985 which conveniently allowed them to rebuild it. It is now..frankly...one of the jewels of the midwest. Beautifully designed with two turf tracks and one “poly” (dirt) track. The poly track is all the rage now since Barbaro broke down...supposedly easier on a horses legs. Anyway... my brother in law and sister in law recently moved up there and we came to visit on the same weekend as one of the richest races of the year.... The Arlington Million.

My brother in law is a high functioning obsessive compulsive and he rarely does anything without thorough research. In this case he planned for us to have a nice day at the track and he planned it very well. he realized that the crowds would be VERY large. He realized that we did not want to spend a lot of money. He scoped it out and we brought four nice canvas folding chairs and parked close...and then came in and set up on the back side of the grand stand. They have a huge area where they bring the horses out and saddle them prior to every race...and the jockeys come out and mount them. We set up the chairs under s shade tree and went about betting. The girls got some bloody marys and we got some beers.

We had pre handicapped the races and we made our daily double bets. The daily double is picking the winner of two separate races. It is not too hard and...it is generally known as a “sucker bet” like a quinella, or exacta or a pick six. We lost but I bet the right horse to win and made a nice price...then I did it again in the second race. My brother in law was getting killed as is often the case. For me it created the always poor situation of “playing with their money.” This is always bad because it engenders a certain...lack of discipline.

Anyway...when a track is hosting a big race they end up running several big races as lead ups and this day was no exception. We say some of the best horse flesh in the world. We were also sitting right next to the Jockey’s locker room and before each race these guys would come out in their silks and sit and smoke and talk before they suited up. These jockeys are tiny, hard, athletic men. Some of them have very attractive women who occasionally come over to chat with them. The women tend to be tall and blond and thin. I believe only the very successful jocks have these type of women chatting them up. Anyway... it was a spectacle all by itself.

So...I held my own and had a few beers. I walked around and took in the people at the track and it was a very well heeled and well monied crowd. We were watching races on a jumbo tron TV with a nice picture outside and it was a sweet day. The Million had a large amount of drama around it this year. The Tin Man had won last year and he had an excellent chance to repeat. there was a european invader coming in who was the logical choice but Tin Man had the capability and was going to be a strong sentimental favorite. John Henry was the only other horse to win two Arlington Millions and he won them back to back in the first and second running of the race.


I handicapped the race very carefully as well as the other 40,000 people who were there and another million or so bettors betting at OTB’s and other tracks all over the world. It turns out...almost all of us were wrong and a horse named Jambalaya who went off at 12-1 and won the race going away. In any case that race wiped out my bank and left me...lets just say it left me somewhat lighter then when I arrived. It still was an awesome day. Arlington closed on September 16 this year ending a race season that started May 5. It is a beautiful place to visit in the summer. Even if you do not bet it provides something to see and a great place to people watch. This diner cannot recommend the food but the cocktails were awesome and the facility is beautiful and well...betting is always fun.

Diner Review IX: The Buttery

Diner Review
The Buttery
3659 South Grand Boulevard
St. Louis 63118
314-771-4443

It was with some trepidation on a recent Sunday that I finally made the journey to “The Buttery.” Clearly there was a lot of fear just regarding the name. Certainly there should be no fear in too much butter. There can never be too much butter, or too much grease. As the Diner Reviewers “Home Boy” Martin Luther said...”We hold these truths to be self evident.” No, the fear had to do with the type of building and the location on South Grand. The fear was that there might be a dreaded butter “substitute.” That evil, vicious, yellowish oil that is “butter flavored.” This crap has ruined more breakfasts and frankly more restaurants then any other evil besides “butter like spreads.”

Not to fear. The Buttery provided an excellent breakfast, free of butter substitutes. Unlike some diners that I have traveled to, The Buttery is in a true racially diverse neighborhood. A neighborhood not of all one ethnicity. A neighborhood that is in transistion but know one knows whether it is transitioning from something bad to something good...or vice-versa. The Buttery stands in it’s own free standing lot wedged between an old office building and a Blockbuster. There is metered street parking on Grand and a small lot behind where you would not want to leave your lap top on the seat while you were dining.
Going in you notice all the good things. A grill driectly behind the counter and a long straight counter with a dozen stools with red pleather all ready for a big butt to plunk down on. There are also several two person booths (dueces) and about 5 four people booths. The booth benches and tables are made of the appropriate wood grained plastic that gives a person a feel of quality.... or not. There were no calendars on display which is troubling but a CD juke box was available. On this trip the repetoir on the jukeb ox was not reviewed.

The staff was comprised of a 50 year old lady, a 40 year old man and another lady who was mildly impaired of an indeterminate age. They were not overly friendly (likely because they were busy or perhaps because they were unfriendly) but they did meet every request this diner made quickly and without rancor. There was some friendly banter between the man and the woman along the lines of “when I want shit from you I will squeeze your head.” Good stuff.

The menu is a one page, two sided, yellow laminated presentation which once again stinks of diner quality and professionalism. They have all the important items available for breakfast including a slinger although it was not sampled. The gravy was acceptable and had good flavor although it was slightly gluey and did not contain a lot of sausage or any other meat. The biscuit with the gravy was covered in gravy, unidentifiable due to same and unremarkable other then as a medium for the gravy. Nothing wrong with that.
The hash browns need to be discussed. They are shredded hash browns (the importance of which has been frequently discussed in these pages) but the shreds are thick, more like a Nightcrawler then an Alabama Red Jumper. This leads to a slightly more “meaty” hashbrown patty, and it was a hashbrown patty. It appears that The Buttery uses the Waffle House hash brown form (when you do not order them “scattered”) and as such you hash browns come out in a round patty, about an inch thick, pleasantly brown on both sides. All in all I would have to call the hash browns...out standing.

Brakfast sausage patties were smallish and pre-formed but had excellent flavor. The iced tea was questionable as to what week it had been brewed in but over all I would say that was my only complaint regarding “The Buttery.” In 2006 the RFT voted it Best Diner saying:

Best Diner (2006)
“For so long, we've had so many questions about the Buttery. What kind of a diner name is that? Does anybody actually go in there? And most important, why haven't we gone in there? So we did, and we weren't disappointed. The Buttery boasts one of the best cheap breakfasts in town (served anytime, 24/7). The vibe is mellow (and almost otherworldly, the way everything else seems to fall away as soon as you walk in the door). Then again, there's a kick-ass jukebox stocked with a surprising and wicked array of metal and other high-volume hits to jolt yourself back into reality. And the reality is, whether you're looking for a well-done burger, a tuna melt or your standard eggs-potatoes-toast combo, the Buttery's...well, Best.”
While the RFT vote of “Best” is impressive (i.e. Best Fried Chicken, Kentucky Fried Chicken)

I was more impressed when doing my research to discover it was mentioned as a possible stop for a “Bad Girls Road Trip” in a lesbian website called “Curves.”
http://www.curvemag.com/Detailed/106.html

Can there be higher kudos then the picked breakfast place for a bad girl lesbian road trip? I think not. As is my habit now I gave the diner a second visit with a guest in order to confirm my “findings”. I am after all a professional and must impose rigorous methodology to my efforts. This “personal discipline” is the hallmark of my blog and of course...my life. The Buttery disappointed on my second trip. The iced tea was old, (from at least the night before and then left in a walk in if I am any judge...and I am), the hashbrowns still in their puch shape but undercooked and the bacon...average. My breakfast companion ordered the slinger (with sausage) and was pleased although it was served with beans which pleasing to some I find...distasteful at beakfast.

I was able to visit with the jukebox however and generally found it pleasing. It is one of the CD models and has a a large selection of country and classic rock. On a strong hangover it might be just the thing.
I will keep an eye on The Buttery in the future but for now...6 Slingers on the 10 scale.

Record Review 12 Peter Case: "Let Us Now Praise Sleepy John"

Peter Case
“Let Us Now Praise Sleepy John”

Soooo...what do you do about Peter Case. This guy is now getting old and he has been making quality music for at least thirty years. Case born in 1954 is...jeeez....53 years old. You have never even heard of him and he is one of the greatest singer/songwriter/guitarists of our time. He was in an ealry new wave (skinny tie) band called The Nerves in LA/San Fran and then brokke big in 1980 with The Plimsouls. Of course you will all remember them from the Nick Cage vehicle “Valley Girl” where they were the basement punk band singing their hit “Million Miles Away.” Well...I remember at least. It was a seminal moment in my early college experience...or mid college...I don’t remember. Anyway... he did not really make it big. Plimsouls broke up and like so many others he launched a solo career and became the dreded “critic’s darling.”

Case embarked on a solo career with his epynomous CD which also started the solo production career of T-Bone (Oh Brother Where Art Thou) Burnette. The album was brilliant...groundbreaking and critically acclaimed and...nothing happened. One of the songs on it “Old Blue Car” was grammy nominated and...nothing happened. The CD also had the talents of John Hiatt and Roger Mc Guinn (The Byrds). It is a personal favorite. Perhaps not a desert island CD but close. Very close. His second CD was (for my taste) even more brilliant and brillaintly titled as “The Man With the Blue Post-Modern Fragmented Neo-Traditionalist Guitar.” He recorded that with Ry Cooder and David Hidalgo of Los Lobos and was critically acclaimed and...nothing happened. “Blue Guitar” is a desert island CD with too many great songs and lyrics to recount but.... I can’t help myself...from the albums song “Poor Old Tom”

As we make our way towards our destination,
fortunes are still made with flesh and blood.
Progress and love got nothing in common
Jesus healed a blind man’s eyes with mud.”

GOOD STUFF

Now he has this one...his twelfth album. Check out how many albums.
Discography
• Peter Case, 1986 album
• Fast Folk: Los Angeles, 1988 compliation
• The Man With the Blue Post-Modern Fragmented Neo-Traditionalist Gui tar, 1989 album
• Six-Pack of Love, 1992 album
• Sings Like Hell, 1993 album
• Torn Again, 1995 album
• Full Service No Waiting, 1998 album
• Flying Saucer Blues, 2000 album
• Thank You St. Jude, 2001 album
• Beeline, 2002 album
• Who's Gonna Go Your Crooked Mile, 2004 album
• A Case for Case, 2006 tribute album
• Let Us Now Praise Sleepy John, 2007

All of them have moved over a lot of different ground but always rely on his lyrics and his strong playing. Kind of like James Mc Murtry (another favorite) his guitar playing is totally under rated. The fact is that he can just tear it up bouncing back and forth primarily between folk and blues and then sometimes just playing some straight out rockers. the thing about the new CD is just how perfect and even the quality of it is. case has developedover the years into a monster for social justice and leaves behind most of the simple love song stuff for big worldview questions. He writes about the down and out and injustice and how frankly funny and scary life can be. It is good stuff.

The CD kicks off with “Every 24 Hours” which is just a great song about life, living on the road and that nothing stays the same or constant because...”the world turns every 24 hours.” No shit. he sings and plays with Richard Thompson (another fave) but Thompson does not...cannot dominate either vocally or with the guitar. but they sound great together.
“Underneath The Stars” is a beautiful peann to a homelss woman as she dies. hard stuff but elegant. The next song “A Million Dollars Bail” is for any lawyer or person who has seen the inside of the system and how many and talented lawyers work it for the benefit of the rich and pwerful. “Two Kinds of justice everyone knows. Ones for the people up on the hill, the others down below.” Simple themes. Populist themes. Springsteen was listening to a lot of Peter Case when he wrote some of his best stuff but case keeps on going and going. He conveys righteous without self righteous which is a rare thing indeed. He has a nice website at:

http://www.petercase.com/

Everything about this new CD is worth discovering because even as he casts arrows at the problems of people and the world his music is always hopeful and always looking forward and always calling you to something more...something grand. case is the real deal and this CD is another in a long line of genius and it is... one of the best. Buy it. 8 Sliders on the 10 scale.

Book Review Number 9: Practicing

“Practicing”
A Musician’s Return To Music
By Glenn Kurtz
Alfred A. Knopf
239 Pages

As I have noted and emphasized too much and too many times I love music...all about music, anything about music. I have never been able to get my arms or ears around classical music but the idea of it fascinates much in the same way Shakespeare...or the idea of Shakespeare fascinates but does not really...captivate. Soooo I saw this book and it said it was about a musician’s return to music and although I have half heartedly tried a couple of times...I have never been a musician. So the idea of losing it is sad and returning to it seemd an epiphany of sorts and I was hopeing to be inspired and motivated and... whatever.

This is an interesting book. It is a little hard to read but it is interesting. It all starts with...surprisingly enough...practicing. Out narrator is sitting ina room and looking out the window...practicing. he then takes us back to childhood with hippy parents in the early 70’s... and the guitar center...and being a prodigy and embracing classical music. Then on to the conservatory... then Vienna...then losing music... and then remarkably again findong it again.

Along the way he takes us through two long, long, detailed and yet somewhat glossed over histories. One is the development of a guitar as an instrument. He takes us a long way from the begining of stringed instruments...to the Lute and on... and on. I don’t know...I would like to be interested but I cannot egt there from here. He also takes us through a history of classical guitarists. This is slightly more interesting as he tells us all about these european guys who were classical musiciand but istead picked up and tamed that silly, whimsical, romantic... guitar. A lot of it moves up to and through Segovia who all rock and roll afficianados of the guitar admire and mock. It was interesting to learn more about him and his place in music and classical music.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Andrés_Segovia

He seems like he must have been a real prick. While he works us through that history he educates a little about classical music and Bach and Beethoven and a few others.

The most interesting part of the book for me was his time in the conservatory...practicing...sitting in a small windowless room with his instrument and working on the simplest things. Playing chords for hours. Changing the way his hands worked...changing his fingering in subtle but (according to him) dramatic ways. And playing...playing...always playing. Writers right and I guess musicians play but it just sounds so painful and so beautiful and so amazing. Playing all day...every day. Working on the subtlest nuances of each note. The stupidest of us (me) think that a note is just a note but he explains that it is not anything like that. Every note...every tone is evidently different in the hands of a talented musician. I guess i knew that but I never thought of it.

There is just so much to it. Sometimes too much. His passion for music is so heavy and such a weight. He is passionate and desperate and talented with all these expectations of himself and other people’s expectations of him. He really does not ever reach a realization about why he quits... but the weight ... it seems takes it’s toll and eventually he just cannot do it anymore. Although as a reader you look and see that it all seems so beautiful and magical that...well...how could you leave it. The book can get a little long in it’s history and it’s descriptions and frankly even in it’s passion. But it ends up being a religious story almost of falling from grace and returning for redemption. The redemption comes from realizing whether it is ptacticing guitar or anything else it all rests on what you bring to it.