How many of us take our out-of-town guests for a visit to Crown Candy Kitchen when we do the downtown tour or before or after a game? For many, it's almost a ritual when we have the right potential audience. Crown Candy is simple, we explain, and it's not perfect. But the setting and the food are a great match, nostalgia for the older guests, exploration for the younger ones.
The Karandzieff family will celebrate their business' centennial next year. The river of time brought it through influenza epidemics, wartime food rationing, monster snows and tornadoes. If only the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse would have stopped by Crown Candy, they would have been much nicer guys.
It's nearly always busy, it seems, and it's a favorite watering hole for politicians and media types playing hookey from being dignified. Everyone waits in line, parents explaining to kids what that strange closet-looking thing is (it's a phone booth), and kids wiggling with the effort not to go roaring through the candy on display. There's nearly always a representative or three from St. Louis' Finest there, eating in or waiting for to-go.
Yes, it's an ice cream fountain, but sandwiches get lots of attention here. For most folks, there's their BLT and then everything else. The bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich on white toast was recently featured on The Travel Channel. It's stuffed with bacon, and maybe it's just me, but I think it's gotten bigger in recent years. On my last visit, it was almost as thick as a New York delicatessen sandwich. And at this time of year, it was thrilling to see good, red tomatoes.
A grilled ham and cheese on sourdough was not quite as stuffed, but there was plenty of ham. (The Pork Producers Council should have them on their short list.) My visiting apprentice eater would have liked more cheese to balance all that ham, fair enough, but there's a certain ooze factor to consider, too. And Joe was known to succumb to the chili dog.
As to non-ice cream beverages, there are a few to whom this will matter: Despite the plethora of Coca-Cola memorabilia around, a few years ago, they switched to Pepsi products. A shocking development, certainly.
About the ice cream offerings: That big bowl of bananas on the counter should be a clue about the fresh banana malts being a sort of signature. Chocolate banana is fine lily-gilding, and having grown up with malts arriving on the marble soda-fountain counter with a container of nutmeg to sprinkle on them, the Johnny Rabbit special that adds whipped cream, nuts and nutmeg, is quite logical. And speaking of malt, a young guy seated nearby must have asked what malt was. The server, who was very good on all counts, but very busy, went to the candy case, brought him a candy covered malt ball so he could taste malt. (An older friend then explained to that they didn't throw the candy in the malt mixer, there was a powder they used. I'm waiting for that mix-in at Ted Drewes.) On this visit, twice we saw malts coming out in their handsome steel containers, moisture beaded on them, to be poured into their tall glasses, and each time, the pour brought a large chunk of ice cream into the glass causing a splash and overflow. At least one of those chunks was unmixed ice cream. So beware, or ask for the malt/shake equivalent of "well-done, please".
My favorite is a chocolate ice cream soda, traditionally done with vanilla ice cream, although Himself favored the black cherry ice cream. This is not, young ones, the same as an ice cream float. Chocolate (or your choice) syrup goes in the bottom of a tall glass. A splash of milk is added and the whole thing stirred together a little. A vigorous hit of carbonated water foams things up and mixes them more. Then the ice cream, two scoops, in this case, is added, along with a tall spoon and a straw. The liquid is chocolaty but not sweet, at least at first. A spoonful of ice cream with some of the liquid, perhaps a little frozen from the chill of the ice cream, is just right. Eventually the ice cream at least partially melts down to sweeten the liquid some. Not as handsome as a strawberry ice cream soda, which is like a little girl's party dress, but satisfying.
The banana splits are fine, particularly the one made only with hot fudge, and unless things have changed, their caramel, spelled "Carmel" in many but not all places, is butterscotch sauce. About the only glitch of note is the fruit salad sundae, which talks about fresh and frozen fruit over ice cream. Ours brought 3 strawberry slices, 2 small pieces of banana and what seemed like a whole handful of maraschino cherries. In the midst of the best peach season in several years, this was a disappointment. We opted for chocolate chocolate chip ice cream, which is what the photo shows.
Long may they wave. I look forward to the big birthday celebration next year.
Crown Candy Kitchen
1402 St. Louis Ave.
314-621-9650
Lunch and Dinner daily (Sun til 5 p.m.)
Credit cards: Yes
Wheelchair access: Very tight
Smoking: No
Sandwiches: $4-$8