Gluten Free Chocolate Chip Brownies (Trader Joe’s)

I do this for you. All of you gluten-free junkies and freaks have a friend in the business. I could go out there and fuel up on delicious wheat filled products and stuff myself full of pastry as you drool at my screen wishing you could enjoy it as much as I did. Alas, you cannot and the food industry makes feeble attempts at re-creating dishes normally packed with gluten to cater to your needs. These wheat free concoctions have about a 20% success ratio, and if a restaurant had this rate of failure, there’s no way that I would ever go back. But, again, I do this for you. When I picked up Trader Joe’s Gluten Free Chocolate Chip Brownies I knew exactly the chance I was taking, and if the tone of this blog has steered you anywhere. You know exactly how this went:

First off, I toyed with the idea of picking these up. The price tag wasn’t astronomical, but for two brownies it was a little steep. Then I thought about the fact that you could probably throw chocolate into just about anything and I would like it enough to justify paying that much for 2 brownies. So, I took it home and ripped open the first of the two individually wrapped brownies. I set it on a plate and warmed it up in the microwave for about 20 seconds. These instructions aren’t on the packaging, so don’t go looking for them. This is just how I prefer my brownies. I took the chocolate chip square out, and snagged my first bite. It crumbled in my hand. I grabbed the biggest piece that I could and popped it into my mouth. The dry bits on the outside flaked in my mouth like bits of chocolate flavored chalk. Moisture followed, but it wasn’t the thick velvety texture that I was used to out of a brownie. But, this wasn’t really a brownie. It was fake attempt at one, and failed.

I’d leave this one on the shelf. There are plenty of other gluten-free goodies to choose from, and unfortunately this one is among the 80% of wheat-less items that fail miserably. There are just some things that aren’t meant to be gluten-free. Brownies aren’t one of them. So, FORK the fool who tries to push one off on me.

Capitalist Pig (Soulard)

*UPDATE* The Capitalist Pig will be closing and changing concmuepts for the winter. Details are fuzzy at best, but the buzz is: They’ll be crafting a micro restaurant that will use more of the Mad Art Gallery for seating and service. I’ll post more as information becomes more clear.

The Capitalist Pig is Soulard’s newest addition, cramming itself into an already dense barbecue landscape in the Saint Louis area.  We already have a few really good places to get our ‘cue around these parts and the two that are paving the path are both really damn good.  So, if you’re going to invade the world of Bogart’s and Pappy’s, you had better have something special.  As I walked up to the Capitalist Pig, I noticed a few odd things.  Here’s how my experience went:

For starters, the concept of ordering out the tiny window of a kitchen that is attached to a gallery isn’t going to work for long.  There’s a couple of 8′ tables if you want to sit, but they look a little less than comfy.   Essentially, this place is a food truck without the wheels.  However, those prices aren’t food truck prices and actually are a little more expensive than Bogarts and Pappy’s.  A little of their cost is wrapped up in employees and a place to sit with character.  This place lacks all of that, so what’s the deal with a $12 brisket sandwich.  I’m a curious kid by nature, and, although, there were all these warning signs, I placed my order for the beef brisket and two sides of potato salad and mac ‘n cheese.
Since the seating arrangement didn’t look all that comfortable, I made my way to work to wolf down this massive bag of food.  For my $12, I did get a decent amount of grub.  Opening my brown paper bag, I could already see that there was something amiss.  The container that was supposed to hold my potato salad (which I was wanting to try more than anything else in that bag) was filled with watery baked beans.  Nothing I could do about that now.  I decided to sample them, still a little disappointed about my potato salad, and they weren’t terrible.  I’ve definitely had better, and the thick slices of bacon really didn’t do anything for me.  Next up was that mac ‘n cheese which was flavored with nutmeg.  I opened it up and revealed a monotone mix of macaroni that looked like it came out of the grocery store deli.  It was pretty lame and there was hardly a hint of nutmeg anywhere.

I moved on to the brisket and it had a nice ring of smoke around it and looked pretty tender.  It rested on a dry halved ciabatta roll which I discarded.  I had grabbed one of each of their house made sauces to dip my brisket in (Mustard, Ancho Blackberry, House, Sweet and Smoky)  The brisket was really good and the sauces were pretty original.  Going back and forth between the sauces was my favorite part, with the winner being the House.  The Ancho Blackberry was probably my least favorite as I tend to prefer savory over sweet, and this sauce was a little too reminiscent of jam.  Kudos for creativity, though.

I saved the cornbread muffin for last, and this is probably what saved this joint from a 1 star.  Little chucks of corn highlight what turned out to be the winner of the dish.

I wouldn’t tell you not to go, and I may give it another try.  It’s just that this concept needs some work.  Here’s what I would do.  Get a real space with seats and a door so folks want to stick around.  Lose the ciabatta and go with a nice, soft absorbent bread.  Those sauces were pretty damn good and I wouldn’t mind soaking the extra up with that bread.  Lower the damn prices.  I’d pay that for a nice, sit down dining experience.  Not window service with two long tables in the foyer of an art gallery.

Here’s an interview with the owner of the place with Feast magazine, a popular STL food magazine.