The Whine List

The Whine List by Gary Benton
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It was Bubba’s birthday and since it was close to the holidays I decided to kill two birds with one stone and take my boy out to eat. We live just a little over a hundred miles from Saint Louis, so I decided, that was where I would take him. Now, I enjoy a nice meal out at times. I don’t mean fast food either, I mean real food, brought to my table. The kind of place that has a printed wine list, not a neon beer list that’s mounted on the wall behind a bar. You know the kind of place I am talking about….the waiter always dresses very formal, has a towel over his left forearm, and servers the wine from a silver wine bucket. Of course, most of us can only go to a restaurant like that once in a while. It is cost prohibitive for many of us.

For some folks in the Ozarks Mountains of Missouri, it may never happen. Their idea of a nice night out in a great restaurant would be Momma and Joe’s Dinner, down on Pine Road. Now, there is nothing wrong with Mom and Joe’s, it’s just not a classy place for a special night out. Bubba likes the place though, with the linoleum floor, patched seats in the booths, and the cigarette burns on the Formica table tops. All of this adds to the atmosphere of the place, or so by buddy claims. Now, when it comes to Southern redneck food, Mom and Joe’s can put it out. I guess, I am saying I wanted to get out of the sticks and eat in a place where the waiter is not wearing bib-overalls and a baseball cap. Besides taking Bubba would be fun… because his idea of fancy dining was Momma and Joe’s.

The drive to Saint Louis was uneventful. We made excellent time and were soon pulling up in front of the restaurant. First thing that impressed Bubba was we were going to eat in a fancy eatin’ place that didn’t even have a casino. He almost started a fight with the feller that, “was a stealin’” my car as they parked it for us. I explained to Bubba they were called a valet and they did the parking.

“Well, we gots us a different name fer em back home.” He stated with anger filled eyes. He continued, “They still got y’alls car keys too.” He shook his head as I laughed and we entered the restaurant. He thought I was a fool.

The place was every nice. Nice thick wall to wall carpet. The drapes were red and the wood was all in polished oak. I fell in love immediately.

Bubba elbowed me and said in a whisper, “Hell, they ain’t even got a spittoon in heah. Must have been designed by a butcher, ’cause everythang is done up in red.”

I was surprised, but I knew Bubba. I approached the reception desk and stated that I have reservations for two and for exactly this hour.

In a matter of seconds we were being led to our reserved table by the hostess. I found her to be a very attractive woman with a body to kill for. Bubba must have thought so as well. He was doing very well in his conversation with her until he sneezed, just as they were discussing coon dogs, and his chewin’ tobacco flew from his mouth and onto his place sitting…just as we approached the table.

Dang, not good I thought, we ain’t even sat down yet.

“Your server will be with you in a moment.” She said in a very disgusted voice as she turned and walked away.

“I reckon she likes me,” Bubba said with his face all a glow.

Our server was a tall young black man with a neatly trimmed mustache. He informed us that his name was William, not Billy nor Willy, but William. I ordered oysters on the half shell for an appetizer for us, then requested a bottle of nice wine.

“Mule, are you really dumb enough to pay fifteen dollars fer a bottle of German wine!? You can get a cold bottle of Rapple for two-fifty at the Eleven-Seven on Rolla street. Lest ways we can say rapple….not sure about that liverfreemilk you ordered.” He stared at me in shock.

“Bubba, it is Lieberfraumilch and it is a white German wine, sweet, but not to excess. I think the name means living woman’s milk or wife’s milk. It is a mixture of different grapes and processes. That is what makes it so good and special.”

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