TheVillage Editor-in-Chief Vickie Newton Resigns From Anchor Job But Retains STL Connection

My dog and I are sprawled across the sofa today, watching the Olympics.  Thirty-six years ago, I did the same thing but that summer I was glued to the television along with my cousins from Saint Louis. We watched television in my parents’ family room in Arkansas.

Any time my cousins from Saint Louis came to my hometown I felt like rock stars had arrived from some exotic locale.  They were so cool, and they left behind a “big city” impression I just couldn’t shake. So, understandably when my family and I visited Saint Louis, I tried to return home with some city girl swagger. One summer in the ‘Lou I discovered black eyeliner. Talk about eyes wide open! My, how a steady hand and a kohl pencil can make a small town Southern girl dream big dreams.

Years later, I am still a fan of black eyeliner (upper and lower lids) and…yes, Saint Louis. In my three remaining weeks, my biggest challenge is balancing a new weight loss goal with my love of the city’s mighty impressive menu of culinary samplings. In London, they’re cheering world-class athletes. What they need is to make grazing a sport, and watch me go for the gold.

I think I’ll start at Anthony’s where I will have the Tony’s salad. That will also give me a chance to thank Mr. Vincent Bommarito for his charm, and son James for the pound of butter he once gave me so I could savor the buttery richness in the comfort of my home. Full disclosure: I am a butter connoisseur similar to a sommelier but without the buzz.

From Anthony’s, I’m going to Niche. Food & Wine is spot on about chef Gerard Craft. He is the only man I have not dated who I want to have my parents’ telephone number. Just in case he wants to cook dinner for me when I relocate.

My mom and I ran into Robbie Montgomery of Sweetie Pie’s fame at LAX last spring. We were returning from a girls’ trip, and Ms. Robbie and her son, Tim, were wrapping up some business meetings with Oprah’s people. By then, I had already eaten enough peach cobblers to recognize the real deal when my palate ran into it. And, Ms. Robbie’s peach cobbler is like old money: steeped in tradition. I hope Ms. Robbie is charitable like some of the very wealthy and donates a vat of cobbler as a parting gift.

At this point, I am very clear about my goals these last weeks in my adopted hometown. It’s all about the food and folks. Meetings are being scheduled at or near my favorite places.  I know I am pushing the limits of friendship when I ask friends who live west to meet in Dogtown just so I can have one more cupcake from The Cakery. There will be a little something extra bequeathed to my eastside friends   who brave construction on the Poplar Street Bridge allowing me to stuff myself on chicken and waffles at Goody-Goody.  For sure, I have overreached when I ask if they mind sitting outside in 100-degree weather so we can linger over the potstickers at Mosaic along Washington Avenue and people watch.

The big time makeup artists advise women of a certain age to use less eyeliner. I know they’re talking to me. And, I am using less besides my hand is not as steady as it used to be. Fortunately, there is no shelf life on first loves.