Stew's Food & Liquor Offers Really Good Food — and Cocktails, Too

I loved it before I even went. Based on the menu, I knew Stew's Food & Liquor (1862 South 10th Street) was going to be special.

I don't mean that the food on the online menu tipped me off (even though it did). I'm talking about the script of it — the handwriting it's written in. Actually, two different hands are responsible for this scratch. Owner Nate Burrows wrote the drinks portion; chef and owner Brent Petty penned the food. The third owner, Kristen "Stew" Leahy, probably has penmanship a little too neat for this Basquian work of art. "I tried my best," Petty says of his contributions, looking ashamed. Either way, whoever it belongs to, this graffito could pass for the work of a 10-year-old boy — a boy with soil under his fingernails, a length of string and a buckeye in his pocket.

It was a thundery night. A tornado warning had been issued for the City of St. Louis. The roads were silvery with rain; there weren't many people about. But on South 10th Street, pinched between Soulard row houses, a little hatch was open. Light was falling out and Petty was sizzling things in pans — laughing, yukking it up. Stew's is a hobbity place — snug and low-ceilinged. You can bump your head on these ducts and you couldn't swing a cat even if you felt like it. There are seats for four at the bar, a few low tables and a couple of high ones, and some picnic benches outside (a total of 55 or so seats). At times, the door seems to swing open and shut with the regularity of a Taylor Swift concert turnstile. It's busy. There are butts in the chairs and a crowd is forming.

This isn't fancy food. It's just really good food. It's the kind of nosh you might hope to cook up at home on a Saturday when you've pulled out a few books and decided to make an effort for a change.

click to enlarge

MABEL SUEN

Stew's braintrust, from left: Nate Burrows, Kristen “Stew” Leahy and chef Brent Petty.

For instance, in theory, you could whip up some edamame hummus. You could cobble together a cucumber salad sweet with rice vinegar and tamari. And you might think to thread a few half-hats of shiitake onto a skewer and brush them with something soy-ish. But the truth is they wouldn't taste like they do at Stew's. Your wonton chips would be wanting (no deep fryer), and you probably wouldn't have the wherewithal for buffalo popcorn chicken ("Stew's way") that has exactly the right nuggetiness and is lifted to cosmic heights by the brainwave addition of a faintly chewy mozzarella "fondue." This is late-night food of the gods. Or hobbits.

Yes, in the main, the menu leans East. A coconut curry might have been spicier, but we respected — and were glad of — the decision to make it creamy and mild. It's a generous noodle bowl with fingers of chicken that taste smokily street-foodish — as though they've been tonged over a makeshift grill on some faraway, sun-blazed roadside. We wondered if the gentle soy beans in that hummus could have been more exciting if their slick of ruddy chile oil had had more heat. And if the Brussels sprouts — crispy in places and doused with delicious sweet chile sauce — could still be eaten in great quantity since they were only vegetables. We decided they could. That sauce, those little pops of crunch provided by a scattering of crispy rice, turned those little common cabbages into things of beauty.

click to enlarge

MABEL SUEN

Nate Burrows works his magic behind the bar.

As for the drinks, we knew the "and Liquor" in the restaurant's name probably didn't mean 99 Bananas. We fully expected to be in for some superior treats. I got off to a bang with something dainty: a lychee gimlet — a little ballerina of a drink, perfectly poised between faintly tart and faintly sweet, and wisped with strawberry.

"Aren't you driving?" I said to my friend, who was sucking the life out of her own bev, called Fat Man in a Yellow Suit. It was easy to see why she was behaving that way; it's a sno-cone rum drink with Haitian and Jamaican rums and some tropical fruits. With a hint of clove from a tiny wash of Angostura bitters around the lip, it tasted, rather joyously, of Christmas.

Meanwhile, I had a few more "liquors" of my own. The Desperado sounded good to me: Espolon tequila, pineapple and cucumber. And once I'd done away with the straw and slurped through the huge bollards of ice, the taste was certainly lovely. But something felt wrong. Being picky and egregiously entitled, I asked for a second — but in a different glass. It turned up a few moments later in something short-stemmed and graceful, the ice crushed to tiny beads. It was one of the best cocktails I've had.

click to enlarge

MABEL SUEN

The interior of Stew's is small — but that makes it a perfect spot to huddle to with friends.

But back to the genius of this printed menu. What was it about that chicken scratch that had me putting on my shoes and heading out into the rain? I think it was this: the whiff of authenticity, a scent of fun, the rumor I'd heard of three young people taking a risk, going for gold and maybe already striking it rich. For what it's worth, I'm done with QR codes. I've had it with that cool convenience. Because cozying up together over a paper menu because some goofball chef's handwriting isn't just bad, it's tiny, is one more intimacy we are losing to the technology age. We need to get closer. For all sorts of reasons, and in all kinds of ways, this can happen at Stew's.

Slideshow

12 Great Places to Eat Near Busch Stadium, According to Sauce

Click to View 12 slides