I’ve been living in St. Louis now for about 9 months and it’s been fine. There’s a lot of corn. There’s baseball. There a giant horseshoe stuck in the ground, and uhhh that’s about it. I’m fur shurrr gonna offend some of my fellow Nosebleed bloggers here, but it’s just very stereo-typically midwest. Not very cool. There’s no panache to saying you live in St. Louis. It’s the kind of place that isn’t in on the joke. By no means am I a cultured or refined person, but I am originally from Washington D.C. and my family is from the northeast, so I’ve sipped cocktails with a lot of people who are.
One example is how they hosted the PGA Championship last year. In a way, it was a clusterfuck. Concession lines were a million miles long, half of the grounds turned a manure scented, muddy slop pit, and it was kind of a boring tournament. I would say it was the least good tournament (I’m not saying it was bad, but after each day, I legitimately would have rather not gone) I’ve ever been to and I have been to a lotttt of tournaments. Guess what, though? The people of St. Louis fucking loved it. They couldn’t have been more proud. The merch tent sales were out of control. We’re now about 8 months removed and not a day goes by that I don’t see someone wearing a shirt with the PGA Championship logo plastered all over it. At the muni tracks I play, dudes are decked out in gear. Headcovers, putter grips, shoes (not kidding), all with the logo on it. They didn’t even sell Peter Millar at the tournament. I’m getting very catty here (or should it be caddy – cuz of the golf), but it just points out how these kind simpletons are. And I hate to say it, but if you don’t know what I’m talking about, you’re probably the type of person I’m referring to.
Anyway, yesterday twitter went ablaze when someone posted “St. Louis style bagels.” Now mind you, the bagel itself has nothinggggggg to do with the flavor, texture, or ingredients, it’s how they slice it. And boy, oh boy, do we need start instituting jail time for this one.
Today I introduced my coworkers to the St Louis secret of ordering bagels bread sliced. It was a hit! pic.twitter.com/XNGbljtpYz
— Alek Krautmann (@AlekKrautmann) March 26, 2019
WHAT. THE. FUCK. Our Jewish bretheren who brought the bagel to the United States did not make it for a bastardization like this. What makes a bagel reign supreme over basically all other forms of bread (pizza obviously beats it, and it’s probably slightly above sub rolls) is the ratio of the somewhat tacky outside, with the chewy inside. When you slice it like this, the ratio is all fucking wrong, not to mention that you’re eating it perpendicular to how a bagel is meant to be eaten.
I’m not really mad. The kind people of St. Louis aren’t worth arguing with. This bagel suggestion is akin to your kid bringing you their shitty art and even though it sucks, you pat them on the head and hang it on the fridge. Well this is my head pat. Acknowledging that it’s even worthy of consideration as thing that real people do because I’ll tell ya, it’s not. It completely ruins the purpose of a bagel. Bagels aren’t meant to be splayed out on a plate like a common, glutenous whore. They’re meant to be grabbed, split in half, smothered in cream cheese, and carried out into the world so that people can get on with their busy lives while enjoying a carb/fat bomb of a breakfast. Not in St. Louis where people don’t have anything important to do. Nothing better than sitting down and individually dressing each slice while you wait for corn harvesting season.
All of this discussion made me realize how dumb people in St. Louis are for thinking they have a food culture. Here’s a few examples.
Ski – When I first moved to STL, I saw these bumper stickers
Not knowing what the hell they were talking about, I bought one at my local Dierbergs (dumb name for a store) and guess what? It’s Mountain Dew. That’s right. The pride of midwest soft drinks is an exact copy of a soda that the rest of the normal coastal population ignores as a direct flight to diabetes.
Gooey Butter Cake – Now this shit is delicious. I’ve never done crack, but I’ve heard it causes some pretty serious physiological addiction, and I have to say, if any dessert out there has the same effect, it’s gotta be this stuff. I’ve had it in bar form, cookie form, and traditional cake form and they’re all fantastic. But here’s the dirty secret. The main ingredients in this artery-clogging, sugar-based cement mix of a dessert are butter and yellow cake mix. That’s it. Some motherfucker finished up his day of work at the Budweiser factory, flipped on the TV to watch the Cardinals with a nice glass of Ski soda and said “you know what would make yellow cake mix better? What if we just added a ton of butter?” I can play this game, too. You know how Oreos are good? What if we just drenched them in chocolate and peanut butter and made a Reese’s Oreo. We can even add butter.
St. Louis Barbecue – St. Louis is synonymous with barbecue. Dating back to the times of the midwest stockyards, St. Louis and Kansas City are known for barbecue. However, unlike the salty and peppery briskets of Texas or the mustardy whole hog pork of South Carolina, St. Louis’s most popular barbecue restaurant is… Pappy’s Memphis Style Barbecue. That’s right, you can’t make this shit up. Their prized food is a riff on another regions meat. Unbelievable.
Provel Cheese – Once again, the gigantic brains of St. Louis’s innovative food scene has created their own cheese. It’s called provel. The only problem? It’s not even their own cheese. It’s a mix of cheddar, Swiss, and provolone. According to wikipedia “Provel has a low melting point, and therefore has a gooey and almost buttery texture at room temperature.” PUKE. Why the hell would anyone eat that?!?!! Not to mention they cut it into noodle-like strings. And don’t even get me started on what it’s used for. Apparently there’s something called St. Louis style pizza and it’s an abomination, not even worthy of roasting.
Toasted Ravioli – If you’re not seeing the trend of what St. Louis does to food, I’ll spell it out for you. It’s like a kid got stoned and just did whatever they could to make the food in their fridge taste better. Toasted ravioli is simply breaded and deep fried ravioli. That’s it. No nuance. No pride in making fresh pasta or refined filling. They just take shitty chef boyardee ravs and toss them in oil. It’s as low class as you can get. It’s also pretty delicious, but that’s beside the point. It’s the kind of thing you eat in the darkness with a whole bunch of shame. You don’t celebrate it as a local delicacy.
I have to say, this blog came too easily to me. I usually like stretching and spinning arguments as far as they will go, but this is just the truth. St. Louis please stay out of food arguments. It’s embarrassing.