Pickles with peppermint sticks. Grape jelly with sour cream on white bread. Cake batter-flavored frozen yogurt with Red Hot Riplets. St. Louisans will cop to some crazy food combinations.
We were curious: Are these really an acquired taste that’s only palatable because of the memories? Or is there really something to them?
It all started last week, when a Facebook pageposted photos of Oreos and salsa with the caption, “You’re not from here if you don’t eat salsa and Oreos.” Within a week, the spoof post had 1,700 comments and 1,400 shares.
“Five generations of St. Louisans say this is not factual,” one of my Facebookfriends quipped.
But we thought that combination might have been just wacky enough to work, so we tried it. The naysayers were right: Do not attempt this at home.
Photo by Amy De La Hunt
On the other hand, the commenter who suggested that Oreos with Easy Cheese tastes like caramel was onto something. We didn’t have Easy Cheese, so we substituted shredded cheddar and slightly melted it. Delicious. The sweet-salty-umami combination was a definite winner, even if it did not taste the least bit like caramel.
Second runner-up in our spoof-inspired taste test: Oreos topped with sour cream and a juicy berry—it actually didtaste vaguely like cheesecake, as promised. So when another lifelong St. Louisan shared her family’s proclivity for white breadwith grape jelly and sour cream, we thought it might have some of that same dessert dynamic.
It was much better than expected. We sampled two types of jam, blackberry and strawberry, instead of grape jelly—spreading them on the bread first, as instructed, then dolloping on the sour cream. The result was a refreshing treat on a hot day, perfect with iced tea and other light snacks.
Once we started asking around, the floodgates opened. We got plenty of votes for combos that are popular across the country, such as PB&J sandwiches with potato chips, as well as hamburgers with peanut butter and pickles—which is on the menu at a few local eateries, including Cugino’s in Florissant.
We were encouraged to try dipping pizza crust into soda. “Any dark soda,” my friend advised. “I prefer Pepsi and root beer the most.” And she added an important caveat: “Garlic crust is a no-go.”
DeAngelo Britt introducedus to a holiday treat: a dill pickle skewered with a peppermint stick. The delicacy is believed to have originated in the Mississippi Delta in the 1940s and made its way to Chicago, spreadingto suchcommunities as St. Louis along the way. “This is usually one of my stocking stuffers for my mom,” he said, though he admitted that he’s never been brave enough to try it himself.
We tried it for you, DeAngelo, and here’s the verdict: We wished we had used a more flavorful dill pickle, because this has potential. It reminded me of an old standby from my childhood in North Dakota: cucumbers “pickled” with red hot candies and sugar. I can definitely see why some Chicagoans recommend leaving the peppermint in with the pickle a few days to create a sweet, sour, and minty appetizer.
Photo by Amy De La Hunt
Red Hot Riplets (no relation to the candies) are a homegrown phenomenon that St. Louisans mentioned over and over again. They're enjoyedcrumbled up onto or into almost everythingfrom Imo’s chicken wings (as a limited-time special) to the Buffalo Soldier sandwich at The Gramophone to Serendipity Ice Cream, where it pops up in the flavor rotation every few years. Our local FroYo storefront has also been known to keep a bowl of Red Hot Riplets alongside the sweet toppings. Asked which frozen yogurt pairs best with the chips’ sweet-and-spicy crunch, the server pointed us toward the cake batter, and our extensive sampling confirmed it was indeed the crowd favorite.
Photo by Amy De La Hunt
Opinions were more mixed at a recent party when Dea Hoover, a Southwest Gardens resident who’s originally from northern Missouri broke out one of her favorite snacks: Cheetos dipped in Miracle Whip (not mayonnaise, she emphasized repeatedly—and this makes sense because Miracle Whip has more spices, less fat, and no sourness from vinegar or lemon juice).Some of us decided it might be a worthy snack in a pinch. Others were firmly in the never-would-I-ever camp.
It all makes Oreos with salsa sound a lot more plausible—and it might help explain why TUMS were invented here in St. Louis.
