I live in a bubble. You can tell by how often I fill my car with gas, which isn’t very often. There seems to be an electric fence around me; I never wander west of Hwy. 270 or east of the Mississippi. I only drive farther south than Hwy. 44 when I am heading to O’Connell’s for roast beef. I’m not sure I have ever driven on Hwy. 55 except on the part that takes you to Memphis.

Oh, and to get you really going on what a protected little snowflake I am, let’s talk about my ‘unsophisticated palate.’ I actually never knew I had one until about 10 years ago. I was co-chairing an auction, and it was time to select the dinner menu. During a discussion, a fellow volunteer mentioned that she should go to the menu tasting in my place because she had a ‘sophisticated palate’ and I did not. I guess my bologna on white bread with a little mustard for lunch was the tell-tale sign. It was insulting but also rather amusing since, well, she was right. I tend to stick to food I had as a kid and don’t eat things I can’t pronounce. I have never found a reason to be an adventurous eater when I always can find a Diet Coke and a bag of pretzels somewhere.

And then I got an invitation where these two worlds collided. Let me explain. Our editor Karyn gets invited to events in the community. It’s a great way for her to see what’s going on in St. Louis and do a little PR for the paper at the same time. Karyn was invited to a lovely five-course wine tasting dinner at Balaban’s. Who wouldn’t want to go to that? Well, someone who is pregnant, that’s who! Nothing worse than watching everyone around you drinking wine while you stare at it longingly. (I don’t know if that’s what Karyn would do, but it was what I did when I was pregnant.) Anyway, since Karyn declined, the hostess asked if perhaps I would like to come. Me. Ha. The person that doesn’t drive west of Hwy. 270 and eats bologna for lunch.

I got the invitation, reviewed the menu with my friend Val and said, “There is no way I can go and eat this stuff. I don’t know what it is.” Unfortunately for me, Val’s reaction was quite different: “OMG. You have to go! It looks amazing.” I then decided that I would use my husband Carey as an excuse since he doesn’t drink wine. Val offered to come with me instead. So that’s how I found myself one Sunday night at Balaban’s (now located on Clarkson Road in Chesterfield) eating braised guinea fowl. The bubble has been popped!

First, I love dinner with strangers. I know that sounds odd, but I love meeting a new group of people. You never know who you are going to sit next to; sometimes you’re lucky and sometimes you aren’t. This
time I was lucky! Balaban’s was one of my favorites in the Central West End, but when I was in college, I could only afford one drink, so it was nice to actually enjoy the food I’ve heard so much about. Oh, and the wine! Again, I don’t really have the right words, so I will just say it made me happy. It was an evening with strangers outside of my bubble, eating food I can’t pronounce, and I lived! Which just goes to show you I am not such a protected snowflake after all.

Contact Patty at phannum@townandstyle.com.