First Look: Fleur Honors Legendary St. Louis Diner Eat-Rite

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From left: Cory Stieb, Oliva Diggs and chef-owner Tim Eagan can be found at Fleur at any given time.

For any diner to be considered good, it's best to be able to see what the cook is making. You have to hear the sounds of sizzling eggs on the grill and fries crackling as they enter the oil.

Hopefully, some retro music plays overhead, preferably R&B (extra points for the Commodores).

Most importantly, the customers have to be eclectic. People of all generations, backgrounds, desires and stories need to be communing together over biscuits. The biscuit better be thick, too.

Luckily, Fleur meets all of these requirements — and adds some chef-driven noshes.

Patrons entering Fleur will encounter at least one of the three people behind the operation. One is Cory Stieb, the front-of-house manager, bartender and waiter. He met chef and owner Tim Eagan on social media. After DM-ing back and forth, Eagan mentioned he was opening a restaurant, they started talking about the process and Stieb was hired the day before Fleur's opening. He still works at a bar, but Fleur is his day-time gig.

Then there's Eagan himself. He cooks the majority of the food and also serves as a waiter. He's sporting a Made In the Lou hat and grooving to the tunes Stieb put on, typically '80s or '90s jams, sometimes '70s road trip or soul.

Finally, there's Oliva Diggs, the newest addition, who joined the team three months ago, and is their chef in training. She's likely laughing, a highly infectious giggle which keeps going up and up.

It's a collaborative environment, perhaps because of the nature of the beast — the space only can seat, at max, 19 people: 15 at the counter and 4 at the windows. The kitchen is small, often only allowing for a two-step tango or shuffle step, which makes for good entertainment as you eat.

The menu is also small, with only nine food options, five alcoholic beverages and classic diner drinks like coffee. Eagan wants to keep the menu on the smaller side but plans to change things up periodically, experiment. He's classically trained and worked as a private chef previously.

Coffee comes in the form of a personal French press, and Stieb will come over to press it for you. He is in charge of all beverages, bringing in his bartending expertise.

The team recommends the Brussels sprouts with whatever meal you get, regardless of the time of day. The Brussels are Fleur's best seller, which makes sense. They're made with a cider reduction, which gives them a nice sweet and sour finish, which Eagan then pairs with the fatty bacon and crispy leaves.

They have a rotating seasonal eggs Benedict. Currently, it features a coffee-crusted tenderloin. Diners can pair it with the soup of the day, which on a recent Friday was gumbo.

But even beyond the food, there's the culture that Fleur serves up. The patrons of Fleur span all age ranges. There's young couples as well as older and quieter gentlemen who've been eating on these barstool for a good, long while.

Like any good diner, Fleur is deeply rooted in St. Louis lore.

Eagan hadn't been planning on opening a restaurant, especially in the former Eat-Rite. But then a buddy on Snapchat posted a picture of the boarded-up building. Eat-Rite had closed its doors on December 12, 2020, after a hard-fought battle by former owners Joel and Shawna Holtman. Eagan immediately got a feeling.

"I screenshotted it and zoomed in to the number of the relator," he says. "I had no intention of opening a restaurant whatsoever. I was going to open a to-go wine and charcuterie place. I had the LLC, and everything was ready to go."

Eagan says the renovations took 22 months during the heart of the pandemic. It took a great amount of time and money to get the place fixed up. Eat-Rite was an institution but not exactly known for its beauty or cleanliness.

The building was erected just after the Great Depression in 1936. It's in the Route 66 National Register as an iconic piece of history, but not much is known about its past, besides people's personal experiences.

A customer mentions how patrons had to be buzzed in through a padlock-secured door. Eagan laughs, saying it was probably for a good reason. "When redoing the bathroom, we found shrapnel still in the walls from a robbery in the '80s," he says.

Along with the bullet holes, they had to clean up the kitchen's floor, which was covered in kitty litter that had been sprinkled there to stop grease fires, an old trick in the diner trade. It had gotten caked into five-pound chunks and took a whole day to clear out.

They kept the majority of the stainless steel in the kitchen and repainted, retiled and refurbished the walls, ceilings, backsplashes and countertops. The barstools around the counter were relatively untouched, except for some much-needed tuneups.

Throughout the process, Eagan wanted to make sure he was honoring what came before, even as it transformed into his vision.

The name Fleur — a reference to the fleur-de-lis — calls back to the city.

"The name fit, and it's a symbol of the city," he says. "It's very St. Louis, and ultimately, the place flourished into a rebirth of sorts. Fleur, flower."

Much of the decor pays homage to what surrounds the tiny spot: a black-and-white print of North Grand, an aerial of the old Rams' stadium and the Arch, half built, waiting to realize its full potential. Eagan and company are looking to get the marquee painted with the new name, to welcome both old and new patrons.

Fleur has held small, private dining experiences for New Year's and Valentine's Day with a five-course tasting menu and reservations. The restaurant will be making that a regular, monthly event.

Besides making the tastings a staple, Eagan also hopes to expand with an outdoor patio. With fingers crossed, he's looking to get construction done in time for the start of the Cardinals' season.

But true to form, Eagan doesn't worry about it too much. At most, Eagan's worries ultimately come down to whether his customers feel taken care of. He makes sure to check in on each one throughout their meal.

"The nice thing about the size of a place like this is that I'm right here," he says. "I can turn to my customers and ask if they like it, if they need something changed."

This tiny spot has always been about making food that the people of St. Louis want. Now, as a more refined establishment, Eagan and team hope to keep that legacy of 622 Chouteau Ave alive, while doing the things they love for the people of the city they love.

As Eagan puts it: "St. Louis food is all about doing good."