The BLT That Justifies the Wait
Crown Candy Kitchen runs on two things: a soda fountain that predates almost every trend it now gets credited for starting, and a BLT that arrives with enough bacon to make the sandwich a two-person decision. This is Old North St. Louis, and the shop's 1913 claim gives it a real argument for being the city's longest-running counter of this kind. The BLT is the order that comes up again and again, a full pound of bacon stacked between toast, generous enough that the bread-to-bacon ratio tips toward meat and some regulars would trade a slice of that bacon for more lettuce and tomato.
It is not a delicate sandwich. It is a statement about what a diner BLT should weigh. The milkshakes are the other half of the reputation, thick, old-fashioned, malt-shop style, and they hold up against anything else claiming that title in the metro. The Crown Sundae is built for splitting, a dessert-course-sized commitment that two people can work through without either one finishing it alone.
A Reuben also gets mentioned as a strong option for anyone who wants the counter's cooking without going full BLT. The room itself reads as small and old-school rather than styled, the kind of corner counter where families with kids fit easily and the service moves with warmth rather than polish. Pricing sits in the moderate range, which for a plate this size and a shake this thick counts as fair. This is not a room built for solo lingering; it is built for a family lunch, a nostalgia stop, or a stand-in-line-in-summer sundae run.
It rewards patience at the door and a willingness to share. St. Louis has other counters trading on nostalgia, but few pair a BLT this aggressive with a fountain program this confident, and that combination is the whole case for making the drive to Old North.
