After 23 years there, he considers himself partially retired, but continues writing about food, wine and travel and other things on a freelance basis. The rest of the time, the veteran Hill restaurant, back after a major fire last spring, attracts everyone else. People who are all substance, and others who are all style, flock here to find a good bargain for filling fare and a casual, comfortable atmosphere. The venerable St. Louis restaurant reopened in December after an eight-month rebuilding project. It's larger, cleaner, and brighter, with restaurant art and some sports memorabilia as decor, and the kitchen produces similar fare in similarly huge portions, and the crowds are just as enthusiastic and hungry as they were in the past.
Service remains quick and the beer supply remains large and well-chilled.
In some respects, the Hill shows two different faces when it comes to serving food, almost a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde of restaurant operation. There are the upscale, white tablecloth places led by such as Dominic's and Giovanni's, and the other end of the spectrum, whose banner, often waving from the tops of the beer taps, is carried by Rigazzi's and friends. My objection to it, regardless of whose product fills it, is simple. The schooner is surprisingly heavy, and the beer tends to warm up faster than I like. Nothing larger than a pint for me, thank you.