LOUIE (2026 EDITION)
I don’t know if it’s because I’m getting older and wiser or if it’s because my spirit was completely broken during COVID and I’m now a different person who will need years of therapy to become whole again, but I’ve grown to be much more appreciative of restaurants that have stood the test of time instead of simply chasing the hype.
That’s not to say a new restaurant can’t be good—even great.
Louie just celebrated its eighth birthday, which I believe is equal to 56 in restaurant years. Owner Matt McGuire has achieved his goal: the restaurant is a St. Louis classic. An institution. Like Keen’s Steakhouse in New York or Carol House Furniture.
I last wrote about Louie in 2019, and if you compare the menus, not much has changed. In fact, I think the only item on the menu that’s new-ish is the Grilled Spanish Octopus. Normally, this would be a turn off to me. The same dishes? Over and over? Boring. Yet here we are, eight years later, and I’ve been to Louie enough times to pay for Jordy’s annual trips to Mexico. And I still have a hard time picking what to get.
The Cauliflower Fritto is still my number one choice for a starter. The pickled cauliflower, the glassy club soda-infused batter, the dill aioli. I don’t even order it that much these days, on account of the fact I cannot stop myself from eating every last morsel, and then I’m too full for the rest. The Prosciutto di Parma with Parmigiano Reggiano and a drizzle of Partanna olive oil is probably the best charcuterie plate in St. Louis. And the fresh-out-of-the-oven hearth bread? Come on. I love the Charred Eggplant Dip and the White Bean Hummus with mint, but let’s be real: I’m ordering those because I am too ashamed to just ask for a stack of hearth bread. A spread is needed to alleviate the shame.
The Roman Gnocco may be listed as an entree, but the pros know to get it as an app. On the flipside, order the Broccolini with Calabrian vinaigrette as a side with the entrees. Or, if you want to be just like me (you don’t), swap out the rapini on the chicken entree with the broccolini. I hope you’re taking notes.
When it comes to the mains, I’m either going casual with a pizza or hard with a standard entree. If it's pizza night, it’s going to be a coin toss between the Margherita (tomato, mozzarella, basil) and the Secret Pepperoni. Sometimes the Salsiccia with red onion and cherry peppers. If I’m loaded up on Lactaid, the ricotta-based Broccolini with lemon and chili.
What I’ve ordered the most is the Roast Chicken with chicken jus. “I would never get chicken at a restaurant! Chicken is so boring,” think the fools and non-believers. It’s incredible. It’s juicy, it’s crispy, it’s intensely chicken-y. I’ve never had a better roast chicken anywhere.
If I’m feeling like red meat, it’s the big boy Grilled Pork Chop with shishito peppers and chermoula; if seafood is in the cards, it’s likely the Mussels with white wine-garlic broth, but I can easily be swayed to whatever the fish of the day is. Chef Sean Turner is a fish whisperer.
Oh, and the pasta specials. By now, any Louie veteran knows them: in fall/winter, it’s the Sweet Potato Ravioli; in spring/summer, it’s the Sweet Corn Ravioli with basil and tomatoes. I usually split one of those as a little ragazzo grasso intermezzo, as they don’t call it in Italy.
The only dessert I care about is the ice cream sandwich. What kind of psychopath would think of making a compressed macaron for the cookie part? The flavor changes with the season. Back when I wrote my 2019 piece (that’s what I call blog posts now), it was cocoa nib macarons with chocolate ice cream, which is nothing compared to the more recent ones. Blueberry and sweet corn? Earl grey? Coffee? Picking a favorite is impossible.
I started the 2019 piece with, “I’ve never believed there’s such a thing as a perfect restaurant, but damn if Louie doesn’t make me wonder if I’m wrong.” I think it’s safe to say I’ve been proven wrong.
