clayton
Forsyth Boulevard wends west, north and every which way, from the StL city limits through Clayton to U. City, where it becomes Old Bonhomme. My late stepmother-in-law, who was born in Clayton in 1921 and lived on the boulevard as a girl, used to backdate anything by saying, “Back when Forsyth was a mud road …” There’s a gentle curve on Forsyth from Brentwood Boulevard to Maryland Avenue, the outside arc of which is defined by a not-so-old, two-story building at 8230. The building may not be as much of a white elephant as the long-vacant former Schnucks at Hanley and Clayton, but a bona fide mystery is the metal lettering above the entry doors: ‘CLAYTON FORSYT_E BLDG,’ pictured at top. (The ‘H’ is missing. But there’s an ‘E.’ Huh?) It once was home to hair salons … and attorneys, as revealed by peering through the front doors, where the register reads ‘Lawyers Title Building.’ Google’s street view shows it is or was for sale by Desco Group; we noticed no such sign upon poking around recently. But our state-of-the-art Internet info retrieval machine shows that any number of businesses once were located there: An acupuncturist, insurance agency, title company, commercial property broker … and lawyers. Fading posters of the same colorful scene—diners relaxing beneath umbrellas on a patio—are pasted inside the first-floor windows. The awning at 8220 reads Dominic Michael. Different coifs could be styled at 8234, Earl’s for Hair. A section of the stone façade has crumbled and fallen next to the building’s entryway. But the mystery remains: Back when it was a mud road, did Forsyth used to have an ‘e’ at the end? Mary Catherine Urian-Griesedieck died at 95 on Christmas Day in 2016 and can no longer be consulted about such historical details. But she would have made up a pretty good story, anyhow.
the metro
‘In Sight, It Must Be Right’ was a Steak ’n Shake slogan to make one’s mouth water. Whenever you’re famished and slide onto a stool at the counter, it is fascinating to watch the grill routine. (If you have a touch of ADD, as I do, trying to follow it can make you a little nutty.) The Rock Hill location closed and became a Dunkin’ Donuts in the aughts, as far as I can recall. Thankfully. You could skate on the floor, it was so greasy. Well, 11 locations throughout the metro are now closed ‘temporarily.’ Many may not be missed. I used to eat at one or another a couple of times a week when my daughter was in high school, and I’d grade the overall experience between a four and an eight on a 10-point scale, depending on the location and time of day. The initial word from the company’s former flacks was ‘remodeling.’ Uh-uh; finger wag. A flap between corporate and franchisees could be about pricing, or it could be about quality and customer satisfaction. I vote for the latter. We’ll see.
grand center
I think veteran broadcaster Don Marsh looks great. But what do I know? Recently, he was only on the radio. Marsh, 80, suddenly resigned from KWMU (90.7 FM) two weeks ago (March 27) after speaking with management about his comment upon greeting his female guest before the interview: “You look great.” Somewhere at the public station, apparently, a #MeToo meter swung into the red. Marsh was interviewing former KSDK-TV Channel 5 anchor Karen Foss, 75. (OMG. Did he actually touch her? Like, shake her hand?) Facebook and Twitter have blown up since the news broke, especially after Foss’ post March 30, which reads, in part: “I am appalled. As a woman who has long argued for the equitable treatment of women, I am highly alert to sexism and discrimination and I sensed absolutely none of that in his greeting. … It is a common way for those of us who are aged to greet each other—meaning we share our pleasure at being vital and healthy. It is no way leering or meant to diminish anyone’s intellectual or professional contributions.” At this writing, more than 1,200 people had shared the post. Nearly all of the dozens who commented supported Marsh, who’d been with St. Louis Public Radio since 2005. Criminy. I don’t want to be the next man accused of being a sexist dope, but I’ve bussed women on the cheek, sometimes both sides of the face, and not just at formal occasions. And I’m a hugger who spares no one. Family, friends, co-workers present and former. Hundreds of people have been subjected to (nearly) full body contact with me. Old, young, male, female. The ‘research sample’ is considerably less than 50 percent women. The lion’s share? Men. And if that creeps you out, you’re just plain weird and need to get over yourself.
st. louis
The robust Italian restaurant scene in the StL never will be the same, but for eternity, St. Peter will be served some of the best meals available in the universe as he works his post at the heavenly ‘border crossing,’ the Pearly Gates. Two legendary restaurateurs and civic icons have passed on in the last few weeks. Kim Tucci, co-founder of Pasta House, died March 25. He was 78. Just more than a week later, on April 2, Vincent Bommarito Sr. died. He was 88. The outpouring of tributes and reminiscences for both men was remarkable; to print them all would take up the next three issues of this magazine. Of Tucci, former U.S. Sen. Claire McCaskill tweeted: “Kim Tucci. How lucky I was to be in his large circle of love and light. Few will ever accumulate as many true friends as this special man. His place in my life can be filled by no other. I’m heartbroken.” He was a supporter of the Loop Trolley and was instrumental in the renovation of Soldiers Memorial. And, IMHO, nobody can match the toasted ravioli, a St. Louis staple, at Pasta House. Tucci’s culinary career started as a cashier at Tony’s, which has regularly been rated as one of the nation’s best restaurants by respected authorities, from Condé Nast to Forbes. Yes, you expect the waiter to whisk your crumbs off the table at an eatery as fine as Tony’s, but where else does the maître d’ face you as he retreats … since Bommarito never turned his back on a customer? As a SLU High senior, Bommarito got an unexpectedly early start as restaurant operator in 1949; his father died just three years after establishing Tony’s Spaghetti House, which transformed into a popular steakhouse in the 1950s and evolved into the fine-dining establishment it is today. Half a decade ago, the would-be cognoscenti snickered when Bommarito claimed that Tony’s would be the best restaurant in the city. It was no idle boast. Condé Nast has rated it the nation’s best Italian restaurant. For dozens of years, rumors have swirled that Tony’s was moving here or there, like to Cheshire Inn at the city/county line. But in the last three decades, it only moved in 1992 from 826 N. Broadway south a couple of blocks to the space in the Equitable Building once home to the first brick-and-mortar location of Brooks Brothers.
notable neighbors
Saint Louis Fashion Fund (SLFF) began as a unique business incubator at 1533 Washington Ave. Its ambitious mission hasn’t changed: To revitalize the district and serve as a catalyst for attracting full-scale garment manufacturing and production to the heart of the city. A new class of designers just moved in for one-year fellowships on a block that is redolent of its manufacturing history: shoes, clothing and hats. Full-scale hat production dried up when mid-20th century fashion no longer necessitated the accessory. Alas. Many baby boomers remember dad coming home from work in a suit and fine hat, carrying a briefcase. But hats for women? These days, you may see them only on women in their Sunday best or at the Kentucky Derby every May. Or, at the Forest Park Forever Hat Luncheon in June. Dianne Isbell of Belleville has designed and created dozens of hats for this local annual event and has had a winning design a half dozen times. Isbell is among the Fashion Fund’s eight new design residents, all from the metro (the first contingent included designers from Dallas, NYC and elsewhere). When we met near her hat display—the first thing you notice when you walk in SLFF’s front door—she was in a hat, of course. It was not nearly as awe-inspiring as the splashy array of pheasant feathers making up one of her award-winners on a stand against a wall. Another was a large, soft pink rose bloom. All are head-turners, which is precisely the point. “When you aspire to something higher,” she says, “why the ripped jeans?” Isbell lets her imagination run free, such that one of her creations was displayed at the Derby Hat Museum. Her son, a finance wizard, has recommended mass production. Isbell rolls her eyes. “I couldn’t do the same thing over and over! It’s boring.” See one of her Derby models, and more of her exquisite millinery, at hatsbydianne.com.
