Wednesday, November 11, 2009

I Found the Perfect French Fry (The Bleeding Deacon)

My mother was afraid that with the new job and all, my blog would suffer. And the truth is, between training and The Captain being in and out of town, the most action my kitchen has seen is when I walk through it on the way to the basement to fill kitty bowls. The good news is that I have been letting others cook for me. In the past couple of days, I have enjoyed pizza from Joanie's, a ribeye from The Iron Barley, and, just last night, the most heavenly veggie burger and french fries from a little tavern in South St. Louis - The Bleeding Deacon.

Now, typically this blog isn't about other people's food. But I enjoyed this veggie burger so much, that I felt it was my civic duty to share this information with you.

Let's get this out of the way: a "Bleeding Deacon" as I interpret is someone who has given up the bottle (with the help of AA) but still hangs out at the bar, judging everyone. I'm not sure that this the correct meaning, or what the owners were looking for, but I like it so I will stick with it. A google search was no help in confirming this. There are lots of meanings out there.

Anyway, it was 9:30 on a Tuesday night and I was hungry, and The Captain had just returned from a work dinner, and I was tired, and had little hope of finding something to eat that wouldn't be served to me in a bag with plastic ketchup packets. At the insistance of Urban Spoon, we decided to check out The Bleeding Deacon. My first impression upon seeing that sandwich board was that the people there couldn't spell. The place was pretty packed and the bartender was rocking some skinny jeans and some old skool Nikes. We sat at the only open bar seats right in front of the tap. There was a nice selection of beers. I ordered a Delirium and The Captain got a Stag. I looked around and we were surrounded by cheap beer drinking hipster punk rockers who were at least 10 years younger than me. Then someone broke the silence and played the jukebox. And they played The Smiths. It was like it was meant to be.

There was a regular menu and a seasonal menu. The seasonal menu had some kind of pork tenderloin medallion dish that was soaked in Schlafly APA and wrapped in bacon and I was >< this close to getting it, but when I asked the bartender what he had eaten that night, he mentioned the veggie burger. The Veggie "Boudin" Burger, a burger made with white beans and rice. After a discussion about how neither one of us like remoulade or mayo, I decided that this guys taste was aligned with mine, so I ordered it with some french fries.

The burger came out with these amazing french fries that looked like McDonald's fries. They were hot and crispy and lightly salted. The burger itself was definitely house made and had a nice crust on the outside and packed some spicy heat. It was served on a whole wheat roll that was nice and sturdy and held everything together pretty well. I told the bartender that it was the best veggie burger I had ever eaten and he told me that The Riverfront Times agrees with me. So much for blazing new paths. This guy was already in "The Best of" edition. Oh well.

Things of note: the ketchup and mustard came out in little metal ramekins and were nice and cold, just the way I like them. Bar condiments can be pretty gross. All indications were that there were well taken care of. Also, the punk rocker hipsters were a friendly bunch. Despite the fact that we didn't look like we fit in, they were friendly and we enjoyed a rousing discussion about where to get good veggie burgers. There was a chalkboard wall full of beer options. (The website says 40 are available.) The food was inexpensive. I think that pork tenderloin special was the most expensive thing at a whopping $10. My burger was $7 I think. So was my beer. If I had cheaper taste in alcohol, I could have been a pretty cheap date last night.

For more about The Bleeding Deacon go to:
(Unfortunately the menu is not available online. Crazy!)


  1. I love this little place, too. However, I was told that the name comes from an old story about a deacon that hung out at a tavern, and talked too much. The other patrons said that he "bleated" like a goat...thus the Bleating deacon and summarily the bleeding deacon.

    Good to see that this place is hanging on!

  2. The wife and I have been here once. The cow burger we got that day was way overcooked...but those fries were spot on--and good call on condiments. I didn't care for the ketsup but could tell it was made in house. The sweet potato salsa was pretty damn good too.


  3. Wineguy, its good to know what it officially means. A couple months ago on the Post Dispatch boards, someone posted about the place and people were like "gross" and "what a terrible name". I thought it was funny to see people all riled up.

    Mac, I was wondering if those were made in house. I couldn't tell.