Sure, Crown Candy Kitchen sells candy. But fans of the ol’ sweet shop also down their malts, sundaes, sodas, and XL-size sandwiches with great gusto. It all started back in 1913, when two immigrants opened the store in the North St. Louis neighborhood. More than a century later, candy is still made with meticulous pride along with an array of old-fashioned treats from the soda fountain and a stellar selection of lunch items.
Restaurant Signs to Instruct and Amuse
Upon entering Crown, you learn from several placards, that there are “No Separate Checks.” I don’t mind that, in fact, I always appreciate seeing the word “separate” spelled correctly in public signage.
The largest sign is next to the menu board. It reads: “Please keep feet off booths.” I suppose that’s a problem when you have white-painted furnishings. But while we were there people were respectful of the request; no one was bounced for non-compliance. 🙂
There were other signs, appropriately placed. The one next to the candy jars declared: “Quarter pound minimum on all candy.” I’m assuming you can mix varieties of the same price to reach the goal, but I didn’t ask.
A step back in time.
I smiled as I read the poster plastered near the carry out counter, that told waiting customers where to que: “Waiting for an order to go, please stand to the left of the Pepsi machine.” All conformed to the house rule and things moved smoothly.
Confession
I hate to admit this, but Cyndy and I inadvertently jumped the gun on seating. There was no line, so when we spotted a table in the corner, we ignored the flimsy print out taped to a booth: “Please wait until tables have been cleaned and cleared, then you may seat yourself.”
Our server looked at us askance as she flecked a few crumbs from the table. We apologized. She seemed only mildly displeased by our disobedience, smiled, and handed us menus.
Menu Madness
We learned from our server that there are no small sandwiches or sodas. Everything is grande. Want a BLT? You have to get the “Heart-Stopping BLT,” a tower of porcine extravagance, that includes 14 strips of bacon! Hmm. . . to salve your conscience, I guess you could take half the bacon home and divvy it up with Fido.
The “Heart Stopping BLT” (from another table, not ours).
The Chicken Salad Mystery
I ordered the chicken salad sandwich (which the menu notes is only served on Tuesday and Thursday and in limited supply). I pondered the rationing. Was poultry delivery only twice a week or the salad made by a part-time employee? I’m sure there’s a logical explanation. If you know the rationale for restricting the availability of the chicken salad, please let me know.
For some reason, chicken salad is only served two days a week!
Pace Yourself
One sandwich is large enough for two! Fortunately, the take home boxes are also grande, so we left with two halves of our sandwiches. Both the Chicken Salad and the Reuben were as good—or better—than any I’ve had around town. We weren’t about to leave them behind.
As to the malts and sodas, one size fits all: grande, again. The tall, 24-ounce metal ice cream mixer comes with three large scoops of ice cream. Take it or leave it. We chose to take it.
Cyndy pours a Dreamsicle Shake that features a hint of orange flavor.
I couldn’t let Cyndy drink alone
Gastronomique Conclusion
By the time you waddle out of Crown Candy, you’re vowing never to return. . . but you know you will.
Crown Candy Kitchen. 1400 St. Louis Avenue; Open: Mon-Thu 10:30a-8p; Fri-Sat 10:30a-9p; Closed on Sunday.
