Kabobs and Calypso Salad in St. Louis

I'm back in the Gateway City shooting a documentary about family roots, American values and a couple who launched a pet food dynasty. Just outside our apartment is this dressed up fire hydrant in stars and stripes. I'm bunking in Benton Park in an adorable 3-floor Victorian home restored to it's original beauty.

There's 10 of us who would otherwise be squeezed into a insufficient hotel unless our boy Paul didn't do some digging for this find. And what a find it is! This palace would go for a few million in NYC but here in St. Louis the selling price is just under $350,000. Yesterday we spent the day roaming the good and the bad neighborhoods of St. Louis, both sides of the Missouri river.

East St.Louis is crumbling to pieces but a bright ambitious local by the name of Rocco is doing everything to save it. And it's working. He and the mayor, politicians and area residents are pulling out all the stops to denail boarded up windows and doors to places that have potential at future use again.

Later that evening we stopped at The Venice Cafe, a quirky, colorful, Caribbean bar with a bearded old hippie named Uncle Bill "Green" that both collects the door charge and sings like Johnny Winter . I dragged my Republican cohorts to this peace-loving dive where fountains spray bohemian pattrooli oil and mosaic tile envelope the stairways. They were reluctant at first until I scouted a location on the patio with a wacky speed boat-turned-table to dine at. The table, chairs, hanging paintings, mannequins, bottle caps, license plates, dolls and abstract mosaics were great conversation starters.

Tom ordered the jerk chicken (how apropo), Jay had the sesame pasta (too cold for his liking) and I went for the fried plantains (not bad). Good stuff with a great waitress to help us refresh our thirst but decidedly we all left hoping for a little whiff of something more than chili sauce and tabouli, if you know what I mean!