After years of plotting and scheming, we have now lunched at Club 33. For the uninitiated, there's a private dining club above the the Blue Bayou restaurant. It's entrance is a benign looking door with its house number, 33, posted next to it. Liz was chosen as the lucky one to push the doorbell. Over the intercom, we told them we were here for lunch. A hostess then confirmed our reservation and let us in.
This is the Club 33 china, manufactured in England exclusively for the club. No food ever got on this plate. We sat down, put the origami napkins on our laps, and then got up to go to the appetizer buffet line. At the buffet, you get a new plate, and when we came back they had cleared these charger plates away. It was quite fancy and very fun. I was going to describe our waiter's accent as eccentric gay Canadian, but then we found out he was from Scotland originally. So, I will describe it as eccentric gay Scottish. We dined in the hunting room of the club, which was built to be Walt Disney's private dining room for entertaining his guests.
Another highlight of the club experience was the totally decedent dessert buffet. We're grateful that one of Kate's strongest talents is networking. She goes to school with someone who's father has a membership. Kate had her classmate book us a table and hooked the classmate's mom up with a new windshield as a thank you. Everybody wins. Not only is it a ridiculously expensive venture to belong to Club 33, there's a ten year wait to get a membership. It's a lot faster and cheaper to make friends with a member.
2 comments:
Kara, You are so incredibly fancy! But seriously, when are you coming back to the heat and humidity and non-fanciness of STL?
vety vety posh, dawling.
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