Two weeks sampling St. Louis area delights

It has been at least a decade since I spent two full weeks in St. Louis. And although my career and life has moved me beyond ever living in a mid-sized American town again, I was reminded that the place (and its environs) offers a lot of fun times and some very fine dining.

I had planned to write a wealth of blog entries but I was, frankly, swamped. I was working remotely, so was generally at my computer from 5:30am. I'd run errands and spend time with my mother from 2pm, then generally be out to eat with Mom or friends in the early evening ... dropping with exhaustion by 9:30. The prevailing heat for the first 10 days of my visit didn't help my energy levels; I'm not used to high 80s and humidity any more.

And so, rather than loads of detail, here's an overview of my St. Louis highlights.

Busch Stadium: Thanks to generous friends with excellent connections, my second trip out to the ballpark this year. I miss baseball more than any other aspect of American life, so watching my team play live is the highlight of any trip. Of course, they were well into their spectacular late-season slide by the time I got home, my dreams of watching a tight pennant race downgraded to the simple appreciation of a night out drinking in the atmosphere of the game. The new stadium is a marvel. Whilst I shed a tear or two when the old Busch (cradle of my formative baseball years) came down, the new version is better in every way. They've somehow managed to make it feel smaller and more intimate, whilst building in better facilities and giving an amazing outfield view towards the arch and the city skyline. They've payed huge attention to architectural detail. I particularly appreciated the bronze cardinals sitting atop all the signposts and the wrought iron redbirds worked into the end of each row of seats. And Mom really appreciated the escalators that now speed you to your seats. Only one thing is missing: the old scoreboard on which a neon cardinal would flutter back and forth whenever our boys hit a home run. I suppose he was far too low tech for the digital delights of the new board.

Lake of the Ozarks: Another trip down memory lane, though this a more distant byway. I bet I haven't been to the lake since I was 10 years old, and I'd certainly never been to the upscale Lodge of the Four Seasons. I followed long-standing St. Louis tradition and made the four-hour drive southwest for the weekend. It's a lovely place for a break; and that's coming from someone who's used to a wide and elegant variety of weekend options. The Lodge sits on a beautiful hillside, and the expansive views of forests and winding inlets are impressive. Service is excellent and the late '60s architecture, once probably in danger of a tear down, is now looking quite classic and historic. The main pool, set amidst a lovely Japanese garden, was nearly empty but still open thanks to the late-September heat wave.

Food at the lake was particularly good. Li'l Rizzo's is one of those places that sends Europeans reeling on the value for money scale: the size of the portions versus the low price was amazing. And the food was good, too. On the high end, we dined at the Potted Steer, supposedly one of the two best restaurants on the Lake. Its homespun, almost New England Seafood Shack decor belies the elegance of its menu. This is a place that could stand up against most fine restaurants in big cities, and the wine list was bloody impressive. I had a perfectly cooked rainbow trout, Mom went for their specialty deep fried lobster tail and I have to confess to not remembering what Dad ate. But all were very satisfied. Back on the down home, unsophisticated side of the scale we finished our night at Andy's frozen custard stand which, though it is probably heresy for any St. Louisan to say this, was actually better than establishment favourite Ted Drewes.

Annie Gunn's: I would happily send any sceptical European foodie to Annie Gunn's to prove that Americans can do much more than burgers, BBQ, corn on the cob and junk food. (I'd sendthem to the Potted Steer as well, but the idea of a European getting to the Lake is a bit much. The St. Louis suburbs would be enough of a stretch.) I remember when this place was just the dive bar next the the local butcher and smokehouse in Chesterfield's bottom lands near the Missouri river. Now it's probably one of the finest restaurants in St. Louis, obsessed with local ingredients, quality sourcing and variety of flavours. The wine list is surprisingly broad, with interesting choices from America, the New World and Europe ... and a staff knowledgeable enough to comment on my choice of a vigonier and discuss the merits of the grape. The old smoke house next door has become a luxury market with gourmet foodstuffs from around the world. The only thing "countrified about it these days is the sculpture of the happy sow in front. A far cry from the old place where we used to buy beef jerky after Sunday mass. And a great improvement, as long as you're in the mood to spend a bit of money. American restaurants are not the deal they used to be, even with the strong pound.

Bacana's: Also in Chesterfield, I spent my last evening with Mom and our friend BJ at the latest sensation: Bacana Brazilian grill. After my last blog entry about St. Louis and tradition, you might think that nothing ever changes. But this place is proof that a few things do edge in and transform the establishment. A restaurant with South American cuisine, staffed by a multi-ethnic team of waiters some of whom barely spoke English? Impossible 10 years ago. The concept is an interesting one, ideal for meat lovers or people trying to avoid carbs. Vegetarians stay away. Everyone pays a flat $29.99. That gets you access to a massive buffet of salads and unusual vegetable dishes. Then the meat comes to your table throughout the meal. 20+ different options of beef, chicken, fish and pork, all grilled or barbecued in different ways, sliced off long skewers onto your plate by guys dressed as Brazilian cowboys. (The costumes were a bit over the top at first, but you get used to them.) It reminded me a bit of a tapas bar, because you're taking nibble-sized portions of each thing and could thus sit there all night. Throw in some Brazilian cocktails and salsa played by a band in the bar, and it was a fine evening.

Shopping: God bless America and her weak dollar. I doubt I've ever shopped so much in one trip, and my bulging suitcases provided evidence. It was hard to pass anything up, given the lovely combination of stores more lavish and comfortable than anything in Europe, magnificently friendly sales people and a currency exchange that made everything half price. My autumn and winter wardrobe has been rejuvenated, and I've made a dent in my Christmas shopping. Why any European with enough money to get to America buys clothes here, I shall never know. And why Americans want to shop in Europe is an even greater mystery. Do culture on this side of the pond; do consumerism beneath the Stars + Stripes.