2004-04-28
Food of the Gods
Have you ever been guilty of living in a place known for something particular, but never in your entire life have you been there? Like New Yorkers who have never been in the Empire State Building. Or people from Orlando who have never been to Disney World. Or those in DC who never visited any of the monuments. Or, like me, who has lived in St. Louis almost all my life, and I�ve never been up in the Gateway Arch or eaten at Tony�s.When I was growing up, Tony�s was �the� place to go. If you could afford it. It was a Five Star Restaurant, and many people from my Prom days would go there after Prom. Some of the family went to high school with us, and kids would save up all year to go there.
I was not one of them, nor were my dates.
It always seemed so silly to spend that kind of money just to eat out.
Plus, of course, there was the rumors of Mafioso-type connections, but hey, what else is new? Around here, there have always been that type, although not nearly as well known or notorious as the Chicago or New York branches of that almost mythical organization.
Anyway � Partner�s family was rather heavily into bootlegging �back in the day�, so I have no issues with that sort of thing.
But back to Tony�s.
The �old� Tony�s had a huge staircase, and the waiters and hosts would walk up it backwards as they led you to your tables, so as not to turn their backs on their customers. The food was said to be excellent. The service was purported to be even better than excellent.
And none of this was experienced by me, other than somewhat vicariously. In fact, not even that, really, since most people would start to describe tantalizing snippets and then stop, wave their hands around vaguely, and say �oh, you just have to go there to see what I mean.�
Right.
Well, last night we did.
Oh.
My.
Gods.
�.
Nothing I�ve ever heard about this place was an exaggeration.
Let me start from the beginning.
At the Lions� Den, part of my job is to deal closely with various vendors. I�ve developed very good relationships with several of these people and they are very good to us, sometimes performing miracles of delivery and setup for us based on my relationship with them.
One of them was in town for his yearly visit of his customers yesterday and offered to take me and Partner out to dinner anywhere we wanted. Partner and I were deciding on whether we should suggest St. Louis Brewery/Tap Room, or perhaps the Summit, which is a high-end, trendy restaurant with a Sinatra theme (there is a huge, life-sized mural of caricatures of the Rat Pack on the back wall and they have live music of the genre). The Vendor�s response was �wherever you want to go. If you want to go to Tony�s, we�ll go to Tony�s � if you want to go to Denny�s, we�ll go there�.
I laughed and explained that neither Partner nor I had ever been to Tony�s and wasn�t that a bit extreme? Well, he�d been to the �old� Tony�s several times and insisted we go to the �new� one last night.
So, we did.
The �new� Tony�s is the epitome of discreet.
First, Vendor got reservations. They were full, but he managed to get reservations anyway, and I�m not sure I want to know how.
This place is on the corner of two well-known cross streets but we couldn�t find it. Eventually we pegged where it should be, but still couldn�t find it. Then I noticed some of the street light banners said �Tony�s� on them so we were then sure we were, in fact, in the right spot. But we still couldn�t find the damn door. I pointed out the two suited young men in front of the bank building door who might, just might, be the valets.
They were.
We got out, and we might have been Hollywood stars arriving in a limo, the way we were treated. We walked up the few stairs and then saw the sign.
An antique brass plaque, about 4� square, that simply said �Tony�s�, next to the bank building door.
We went in.
We were in a standard bank building lobby. There were unmarked and somewhat darkened glass doors in front of us, and this time we looked. Yup � another tiny brass plaque.
We opened the doors and went in. In to a looonngg hallway, with soft, classical music in the background. Very understated and very elegant. A glass panel showed a rather extensive wine cellar.
The maitre d�hotel was very tall and very intimidating, but a shorter, Danny DaVito type was right next to him with a smile. We were greeted and shown to our seats.
We had three waiters. Our chairs were held, the napkins whipped open and placed across our laps. Bread (awesome bread) was placed on the tables along with large chunks of fresh butter. There was a separate butter waiter, I think, who went around with a plate full of a Rubik�s cube of butter bricks, and a pair of tongs.
The menu, of course, was in Italian. Appetizer. First Course. Salad. Second Course. Desserts and Aperitifs. Wine List. All of it a la�carte, of course.
The food was superb.
The service was exquisite.
The cr�me broulee was out of this world.
And it wasn�t all that pricey, at least not for what you got.
We had a blast.
So � if we can ever get gnomad and divamel down here, we�re going back.
Got that guys? Bring dress clothes *grin*
Mitakuye Oyasin
Walk in Balance
(difficult with a belly load of pasta, let me tell you!)
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