I'm quite surprised that a thread on this place hasn't blossomed yet. I'm a fan.
I was scratching my head when I first heard the address, east of the expressway on Lake? But cruising northbound on 90/94 provided that a-ha moment when I could not have possibly ignored the giant primary yellow mural on the side of the building. Oh that place! That little frumpy brown-brick dive right off the exit ramp at Lake.
I'm digging the retro 60s/70s looks that are coming into style these days, I'm thinking the fern-y porn set of Heavy Feather and the harvest-yellow and burnt-orange hex tile at Dove's. St. Lou's looks like they merely deep cleaned whatever that frumpy dive was in its previous life, drop ceiling tiles, lacquered brick and all. I also love their graphic design, that yellow, the tiny typeface with anecdotal quips about Finkleman's meatpacker grandfather.
My first visit was early in. It was packed on a Friday lunch and it seemed as though they were still getting their sea-legs on how to manage cafeteria-style service. Counterproductive to the steam-table format, the line is populated by dinner-plate sized dishes of each offering that are hustled to and from the kitchen by a clusterfuck of easily a dozen food runners. Big troughs would make the assembly line move efficiently. But I appreciate their commitment to keeping the food moving and fresh. And on a more laid back dinner service on my repeat visit, things were operating much more smoothly.
The food?

Its like comfort food that most of us around here are capable of pulling off at home. And I mean that as a compliment. On a busy, freezing early spring afternoon, it was exactly what the doctor ordered, rib-sticking and soulful. That fried chicken, despite their attempts to expedite the hot-holding process, still had the heat-lamp-sog of your favorite soul-food-line rendition. It maintained enough crunch it its crags, but I'm somebody who likes it cold by the light of the fridge. The mildly seasoned breading let the slight gaminess of what must be a yard-strutting bird and an assertive brine shine through. For dinner on my second visit I opted for prime rib, carved right in front of me on the line. A thin cut, but still an ample size. With all them sides, it seems impossible to leave this place any shy of stuffed.
The sides are where its at. I loved the smashed potatoes, just like the best griddled breakfast version, crisped up edges yielding starchy interiors. Especially dipped in a rosemary-scented gravy and doused in house hot sauce. I gotta say though, I experienced inverse consistency issues with this dish and another side. On trip #1 the green beans were served green and crispy in what you would not expect from a "casserole" though were still delicious bathed in a mushroom béchamel topped with crispy onions. On trip #2, the beans were served properly cooked-to-death grey/green but the spuds lacked much crunch. They have a way with leafy greens here, kale cooked down all sweet and sticky and ginger-y bok choy straight out of the Cantonese playbook.
Likely a result of its address, prices here exceed what you'd expect from a down- home cafeteria and you could do this stuff for pennies at home (though it would take you all day). But this is really good comfort food. The short beer list is fun and diverse and my Penrose Devoir washed down perfectly the gamy chicken. Add this to the growing list of tasty chef-casual spots in bustling neighborhoods I frequent.
St. Lou's Assembly
664 W Lake St, Chicago, IL 60661
(312) 600-0600