The last thing on my mind as I sat at the long table in a private room at Rococo Steak was my annual well-woman exam. But the man next to me started chatting about the food blog he kept for his wife's practice, then introduced me to his wife. I realized this woman knew me far better than anyone else attending the downtown St. Pete steakhouse's Wine Dinner with Friends Friday night.
"I didn't recognize you without the speculum," I told her.
She laughed. Apparently it's a common problem. She didn't recognize me, either, and, honestly, that's fine. I don't want anything about a pelvic exam to be so memorable that my doctor knows me instantly.
Our meal garnered greater interest than anything to do with doctors and exams. Rococo chef Matt Rainey outdid himself, serving easily the best meal I've eaten in St. Pete proper: ahi tuna crudo, lobster with apple tortellini in port wine butter, quail and short ribs. Throughout the dinner, Jimmy Kawalek from Ancien Wines and Janice Mondavi of Aloft Wine also paired their offerings with the spread.
While the wines were spectacular — I'm looking at you, Aloft 2010 cab from Howell Mountain — the evening's brilliance shone most brightly through not only Rainey's treatment of the food (I dreamed about the quail), but in the arrangement of one long table, where we all sat, chatted and got to know our new, as the meal's title suggested, friends. (Ah, yes. Wine helped in the whole making-of-friends thing.)
Aside from studiously not discussing my ladyparts (can I write "vagina" in a food post? Eh, I'll err on the side of caution here) with my doctor, I spent the evening discussing food, nutrition, how Portlandia ruined Portland (welcome to Kenwood, Portland-ites!) and how much St. Pete has evolved from a run-down waiting room for an audience with the almighty into a community where you can get a vegan brunch at Cider Press or dinner from a steakhouse living in the 1926 YWCA. The only time the conversation stopped flowing was when Mondavi and Kawalek asked for our attention to explain the wine matched with each new course.
As I bade my dining companions good night — full of excellent wine, food and conversation — I walked to my car through the St. Pete night. I thought about the dining scene, or its absence, 25 years ago. Perhaps, I mused, the most telling sign of the city's evolution doesn't come in the form of the mayor's exaltation of the 'Burg as a "sunshine city" or murals on every other downtown corner, but the ease with which Rococo sold out a $165 wine dinner in the slowest month (tourism-wise) of the year.
This article appears in Sep 22-29, 2016.