Off the beaten shopping path in St. Louis

If you’re planning a St. Louis holiday shopping trip, why not check out some independently owned stores and get away from frenetic mall mobs for at least part of your trip? There are hundreds, from funky shops in University City’s Loop on Delmar Street, to antique stores on Cherokee, to pricey boutiques in Clayton – so many that it can be hard to choose.

For those with a culinary bent or buying such a gift, here are two recent discoveries. Both are now in my top St. Louis holiday and year-round shopping destinations. Both are relatively new. Both offer unusual goods and artisanal products, many/most made in-house or locally sourced. And both provide unique and uniquely pleasurable shopping experiences.

I’d driven past the old building on Delmar about a mile west of U. City’s Loop several times in the last few years. Each time, I’d think, “That looks interesting.” But each time, I was on my way somewhere else and, though intriguing, the small sign said only “Winslow’s Home.” Was it a store? A restaurant?

Now I’ve been there, and can say yes, it’s a store. And it’s a restaurant. But it’s more than that, more than the sum of its parts.

I walked into Winslow’s Home and stopped dead. It was impossible not to; there was so much to take in. A barrel on one side held rolls of genuine oilcloth, a plastic tablecloth precurser that’s tactilely and visually superior. Rugs made from recycled materials protruded from one on the other side. In front of us was a wooden display case. Floor-to-ceiling shelves held an eye-catching assortment of toys on the left, equally interesting dishes and tableware on the right.

Shelves and displays continued into the store: hand-lettered signs announcing sections for kitchenware, eco-friendly household products, groceries, books, fanciful decorative items, and more. On the right, an old counter ended with a wine room off to the side. Interspersed between everything were iron trestle-supported tabletops around which clustered folks contentedly eating, conversing, and pecking at computers. Delicious smells wafted from the back, which sported a counter of sweet and savory baked goods, blackboards listing breakfast, lunch and dinner possibilities, and a tantalizing glimpse of a bustling kitchen beyond. It was as if we’d stepped back into the nostalgic past of a general store and neighborhood diner, viewed through a contemporary lens.

My husband and I slowly wandered back and ordered lunch: a pulled-pork pot pie and WH’s signature brisket sandwich that Riverfront Times’s (IT’s St. Louis counterpart) Ian Froeb, listed among his hundred favorite St. Louis dishes, calling it “a triumph.” Waiting for the food to arrive at our table was a pleasure; providing time to further peruse everything around us. Lunch matched the surroundings: unpretentious, a bit unusual, and utterly delectable. The brisket was as advertised. The “pot pie” wasn’t a typical American version, rather an American take on a classic English meat pie: a cylinder of tender meat completely enclosed in buttery hot-water pastry. Both were accompanied by salads and vegetables that we learned came from WH’s own four-acre organic garden outside St. Louis.

Our purchases, an old-fashioned remedy for furniture scratches, a mesh food mill and a lacy paper garland, were only a fraction of what we wanted. It took self-discipline to resist, for example, the child-sized functional wooden catapult, not because we needed one (although, come to think of it, I could use it for lobbing nuts at squirrels on the bird feeders), but because it was beautifully designed and fun. We left with appetites sated, smiling faces and plans to return as soon as possible.

Winslow’s Home is the result of owner Ann Sheehan Lipton’s creative, community-based vision, serendipity and hard work. In 2006, after 13 years as a stay-at-home mom, Lipton, with a background in architecture and design, was ready to return to the workplace. She’d initially thought she’d work in a firm, but spying a “For Sale” sign on the old building in her neighborhood changed her course.