Italian Job
Other than the four main downtown hotels, there aren’t that many places to get a decent hot breakfast between 16th Street and the Missouri River. Yes, there are the two longtime standbys, the venerable Cascone’s Grill (17 East Fifth Street) and the somewhat grittier City Diner (301 Grand). And, yes, there’s the charming Succotash (15 East Third Street), which is always delicious but more pricey.
The coffee shops, including the attractive Tchoupitoulas (1526 Walnut), will heat up a muffin or a scone or a ham-and-cheese croissant, but they’re not scrambling any eggs and bacon on the grill. Neither is John David DiCapo, the cheery owner of the seven-month-old Chili Shack (1128 Oak), but he’s serving them up anyway — precooked, heat-and-serve eggs and bacon, that is.
DiCapo, who inaugurated his limited breakfast menu three weeks ago, says he’s doing pretty well with his breakfast burritos (scrambled eggs, bacon or ham or sausage, potatoes and peppers, and cheese), breakfast sandwiches, and biscuits and gravy.
When I stopped in the other day at 9:30 a.m., DiCapo had sold the very last biscuit. “But we still have gravy,” he said.
Inexpensive weekday breakfasts are DiCapo’s newest competitive salvo against the mobile food vendors who park their cafeteria trucks around 12th Street, cutting into Chili Shack’s business. On the day I visited with DiCapo, workers were installing stainless-steel tables and stools on the concrete “patio” area right in front of the city-owned public parking garage where Chili Shack and two other fast-food venues do business.
“I just hope people don’t buy their food from the trucks and come and sit here to eat,” said DiCapo, who has been steadily building a regular lunch clientele by offering hot dogs, chili dogs, burritos, Italian steak sandwiches and tamales. Breakfast business is already turning a profit for DiCapo, who whips together those speedy (and cheap) breakfasts with his uncle Phil.
The cappuccino comes from a convenience-store-style machine, so it won’t be stealing any serious coffee customers from Tchoupitoulas, but for patrons craving the prework jump-start of a big biscuit generously laden with peppery sausage gravy for $1.49, Chili Shack is the answer. Even a devout cinnamon-roll lover like me can’t stomach the idea of the cellophane-wrapped “Big Texas” rolls that DiCapo sells. So I ate half a plastic container of DiCapo’s Italian cookies instead. My Sicilian grandfather ate Italian cookies every day and lived a long, healthy life.
